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buckyownsmylife · 9 months ago

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out of the woods (chris evans x famous!reader smut)

the one where Chris watches an interview of you on the Ellen show

Warnings: mention of small stature in comparison to Chris, smut thoughts, Ellen Degeneres trash talking/thinking, cursing, mention of prescription medicine, talk of age gap (reader is younger than Chris), jacking off, daddy kink

WC: 3k

A/N: this doesn't really have an ending, so if you all like it, I might make a series out of it - the idea is that you are also famous (for acting, singing, writing) and have been friends with Chris but there's always this underlying tension between the two of you. It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: no, he's not married in this story nor do I intend to feature Alba in any part of it whatsoever.

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was scrolling through Twitter when I realized some fans were tagging me in a short video of Y/N on Ellen DeGeneres’ show. I knew she had gone there by herself, mostly to promote her new album, but also to give some publicity for our movie, so I was aware that she would probably talk about me at least a bit… Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked the link to check the video for myself.

She looked gorgeous as always, her hair down in that way I loved so much and her skin seemed to be as soft as ever under the mini dress she chose to wear, her legs stretching out and making her look taller than she actually was. I chuckled, remembering just how small she looked by my side.

I remembered one time when I lifted her up, bridal style, and spun her around the pub we had close to the set, after the Patriots had won a game. Despite not understanding the game, she tagged along and celebrated every time I got excited, like the cute person that she was. I got so transfixed by her giggles back then. They were the sweetest sound and the only thing I heard, despite the fact that we were in the middle of a very loud bunch of dudes.

I found myself imagining again, as I had then, what it would be like to have her under me, trapped by my arms in bed, or better yet, against a wall, only my thighs securing her in place while I made her moan with my touch. How would she sound? Or, better yet, how would she feel?

Christ.

Shaking my head, I tried to gather my thoughts so as to not let them stray too far in that direction, something I didn’t have much success in doing, despite the fact that I had been practicing that simple habit every single day since I met her. But it was proving to be a nightmare. She was just far too tempting.

Shaking my head once more, I focused on the video in front of me. My heartbeat had sped up as soon as it started, but I tried to tell myself it was because I was scared for her, since I knew how Ellen could get invasive sometimes.

“So, Y/N…” She started, eyeing my co-star. “You have just finished working on a movie with someone we’re very familiar with, isn’t it?”

Y/N giggled, nodding at the blonde woman. “I suppose so. We have just finished the promotion for it, maybe you guys have already seen it?” She asked the crowd, who went nuts at her. It was sweet to see this kind of feedback, I truly believed in our movie and the fact that I got to know her was just an added bonus.

“For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, it’s called ‘Be Here Now’ and it’s currently in a theater near you. Y/N stars alongside Chris Evans, who we love so dearly here, and they play brother and sister as they try to reconnect after their parents' passing.”

More applause at that. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes at her idea of love. Last time I was there, she made me pretty uncomfortable, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“So, how was the process for you? We know you’re familiar with the filming process, since you star in your own series ‘Evermore’, that sent you to stardom, along with your songs, but you had said before you’d never act outside of it, since your true passion relies on music. What changed your mind?” Ellen sat back as she said that, already comfortable with the fact that something good would come out of this interview, since Y/N had been pretty vocal about what made her decide to do the movie, even with me.

“Chris did, actually. Or, in fact, the fact that he was cast in it.” A chorus of “aws” echoed around the room and there was no way to know if they were real or prompted, but they were quickly interrupted by the host.

“So, you were a fan?” She instigated, as to what Y/N nodded again.

“Of course. Well, my mom more than me, but I was the one who introduced his work to her, so…” She poked her tongue out at the camera, to which my heart (and my cock) jumped in response. “Ever since I got into this, when I first had the idea for Evermore with James, I told him time and time again I would never act outside of this, because I had no intention whatsoever on becoming an actress. I have always been in this for the music. Well, the writing. I’m a writer, I like writing scripts and songs, I’ve fallen into this performer thing by accident. But I’ve always been adamant about the fact that if I ever had the opportunity to act alongside Chris, I’d take it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m good enough. It didn’t even matter if the script was terrible, which thankfully wasn’t the case, I just really admire him and his work and I would never live with myself if I turned this opportunity down.”

Even though I knew most of this, I couldn’t help but to gloat at the fact that this incredible woman actually admired me. She was so much better than me in so many things, even acting, and she still thought I was great enough to get her to participate in a movie.

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a little crush, that’s right?” And there it was. The coup. Of course. That evil wench…

“That’s what you took out of everything I said? Jesus, Ellen, has anyone ever told you that you listen like a man?” Ouch. That one was perfect. Being the ambassador for females and lesbians everywhere, it couldn’t not hurt her, especially coming from someone as angelical, sweet and universally-loved as Y/N. I appreciated the quick second her smile faltered before it became plastered on her again.

“No, I haven’t heard that before… But tell me, have you met any of the other Marvel actors? I mean, granted, there are a lot of them now, but especially those who have worked closely with Chris?” Y/N shrugged at that.

“I have been friends with Elizabeth Olsen for a very long time, we’re very close, but other than that, no. I haven’t had the chance to properly meet, or rather, hang out with any of them.”

“Who’s first on your list?”

“Anthony Mackie,” Y/N promptly responded, getting a few laughs and claps from the audience.

“My, you had that answer ready” Ellen teased, to which Y/N simply shrugged again.

“We talk through social media sometimes and I know for a fact he’s hilarious. I hope we get to meet sometime. I might just have to bug Chris about it.” She had already, in fact. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to each other and I was already planning my next party just to be able to make that happen.

“What about Sebastian?” Ellen asked, a glinter of something extremely suspicious in her eyes.

“Sebastian Stan? No, we haven’t met, but I’d love to get the chance to someday. He seems extremely sweet and I know he’s very talented and Chris loves him, so I think it’s a matter of time until it happens.”

“I heard somewhere you had a bit of a crush on him, right? Even if you don’t admit that you have one on Chris?” This fucking woman. I could fucking kill her right now. But, to my surprise, Y/N simply laughed.

“Truly, you have got to check your hearing sometime soon, because that is absolutely false.”

“Really?” Ellen pushed, to which Y/N beamed even brighter at her.

“Positive.” A beat as the two women stared at each other down. “I think what you meant is that I have had a huge crush on his character, Bucky Barnes.” Y/N explained, laughing at the host. “I admit that only happened after I saw Sebastian’s portrayal of him, but my attraction to a fictional character can’t be really connected to him.”

Ellen nodded, obviously not paying attention to anything she was just saying. “Well, let’s figure out who do you actually feel attracted to, shall we? Let’s play fuck, marry or kill!”

The audience screamed and, to my surprise, Y/N didn’t even blink, a patient smile painting her lips as she calmly watched the interviewer. “So, Y/N, between Anthony, Sebastian and Chris, who would you rather fuck, marry or kill?”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling at the older woman. “I couldn’t possibly answer truthfully to this question, Ellen, mostly because I am not capable of feeling carnal attraction to people I have never met, but I can 100% assure you that I would marry Chris without blinking twice if there was a choice.”

My heart skipped a beat at her words. The crowd went crazy, obviously satisfied with the answer.

“And you’re sure you don’t have a crush on him?” Ellen’s eyes glistened with mischief, as she stared at the younger woman.

“Ellen, I think the question here is… Are you sure *you don’t have a crush on him?” The laughs from the audience was the last thing to come from the video before it stopped, and I found myself echoing them in the silent living room. Oh my, how I missed this girl.

I tapped my fingers nervously on my jean-clad thigh, looking around the room. I had been staying in Boston with my family for the last few weeks, since the movie premiered and we had finished promotion, and I had found myself constantly calling her to share funny stories from my nephews or to hear about her day. I knew she wanted to meet my family, she had always said she admired the fact that we were so close, despite there being so many of us.

My mom obviously loved her, having been a fan of hers long before I even heard about her existence. So what if…?

Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed call in the name of the woman I had been thinking about. The phone rang three times before she picked up, stopping me from giving up on this crazy idea.

“Hey, Chris! How are you? I missed talking to you, it’s so weird seeing you everyday for four months and then suddenly not at all anymore.” I know I was literally forty, but I literally melted at this girl’s words.

“Did you now? Is that because you wish we were married, so we could see each other everyday?” Her breath hitched as she realized I had seen the video and I could just imagine the cute little embarrassed expression she was probably sporting right now. I tried to ignore the fact that my words and tone of speaking had suddenly become way too similar to when I was flirting with a girl.

“Fuck, you saw the interview.” I had never heard Y/N curse before, so the fact that I suddenly had no control over my mouth could be explained by the unavailability of blood in my head, since it had all gone south.

“Come stay with me for a while,” I spilled suddenly. Silence was the only answer I got from the other side of the call and my heart sped up in a way that only happened when I was truly anxious. I was already cursing myself out for scaring the poor girl when she finally answered.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her voice barely over a whisper. It was obvious how vulnerable she was feeling, and a sense of overprotectiveness overcame me. “Please don’t joke about this, Evans. This better not be a prank. ‘Cause I really do miss you a lot.”

Fuck indeed. There was no way something good would come out of this idea, but there was no way I would go back either.

“Of course I’m being serious. Come to Boston. You can stay with me, but I think my mom is going to steal you before you even settle in.” A large breath came from the other side.

“Okay. Okay! I’m going to pack my bags. Yay! I’m so excited!” She was clearly jumping up and down with the perspective of what was to come, and I couldn’t help the smile that painted my lips not only at her cuteness, but also due to my own excitement at her arrival.

“Great! I’ll be waiting.” My heartbeat still hadn’t gotten back to a normal speed. “Text me the details of your arrival, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Chris, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I knew what she meant. If someone caught sight of us together at the airport, or even the fact that she was here in Boston, all hell would break loose in the press.

“Shhh, don’t worry about it, baby girl. I’ll take care of it.” I froze, only then realizing what I had just called her. A few seconds ticked by while I silently freaked out, wondering how I could brush this over, when she intervened.

“Thanks, Chris. That was pretty much the best thing I’ve ever heard. I just might forgo my prescription medicine while I’m over there, because you’ve been able to completely relax me with just two sentences.” She giggled and if I was at first leaning towards thinking she was sarcastically teasing me, just by the nature of her words, the tone of her voice made it clear that she actually meant what she had just said.

Once again, I was at a loss for words, especially because I couldn’t help but to allow myself to imagine that this was her, flirting with me a little bit. The blood I so desperately needed in my brain had once again left to pump another organ full of life. I was saved from having to answer, though, as Y/N quickly wrapped up the conversation.

“I’ll text you the details of my flight in a little bit. See you soon, angel.” She hung up before I could process the nickname she had given me.

“Fucking hell,” I whispered, finally relenting and getting up from the couch to take a shower to rub one off.

I had found myself in this situation more times than usual after meeting Y/N. Normally, I’d only do it out of boredom, preferring to fuck someone whenever I’d get sexually frustrated. But the last few times I had taken girls from parties into my bedroom, I could only see her. Y/N. And I hated how disgusting I felt after it was done, the fact that I didn’t care about the girl I just fucked and the fact that I imagined my younger friend.

So now I resorted to this kind of activity. As the warm water started to hit my body, I allowed my right hand to travel the extent of my body until I found my hardened member. “Fuck,” I found myself whispering into the bathroom as I tugged on my cock. Images that I had spent a lot of time concocting in my head flashed in front of me, all of them starred by Y/N.

I imagined her nude body here with me, under the falling water. How her breasts would heave with every breath she took. Would she be as filled with desire for me as I was for her? I imagined the path the warm droplets of water would run across her skin and how I wished I could lick its remnants.

Maybe she’d fall to her knees before me, looking up from under her eyelashes with that coy expression that drove me crazy. Her lips would softly kiss the tip of my cock and she’d still be watching me, analyzing my reactions. I would do my best to restrain myself, allowing her to get accustomed to my member, but my hands would eventually find their way to her wet strands, creating a makeshift ponytail that would facilitate my vision of her work while I still managed to control myself and not use it to guide her.

She’d kiss the skin all around my cock, quick little kisses just to tease me before going further down to suck on my balls. I’d throw my head back, begging her to do what I needed, and she’d finally succumb, wrapping her lips around my tip before slowly sucking further down my dick. She’d be relentless, eventually being able to swallow my whole member down her throat, and I would look down again to see her looking up at me with a proud gaze in her eyes.

“Such a good girl,” I would whisper, just before I finally snapped, using my grip on her hair to pull her from my cock until just the tip remained tightly squeezed by her lips, until I pushed her all the way against me again. “Take this fucking cock like the little perfect girl you are for daddy.”

And she’d take it like a pro, a satisfied smile on her lips as I fucked her mouth, eventually breaching into her throat, making her gasp for air, tears in her eyes as her hands flew to my hips in an attempt to slow me down. But she wouldn’t really, opting for simply carving her nails on my flesh as she took every single rope of cum I’d deposit between her eager lips.

Fuck. I let the water wash away the sin I had just committed while sending up a prayer for better control when Y/N arrived. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in the bathroom, touching myself while she was at my house.

#my fics #chris evans smut #chris evans #smut #rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader

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f10werfae · 2 years ago

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Teething Triplets

pairing: Husband!Dad!Chris x Wife!Mom!Reader

summary: Chris finds himself in trouble alone with teething triplets and Y/n saves him with offers of a sleepover (Dilf!Chris)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Chris Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

“y’all look like your daddy, too cute” Y/n cooed watching her three 8 month olds in the bath tub with their daddy. Chris clad in swim shorts sat at the end with all of them between his legs, a soft smile on his face as he gently poured water over Noah’s head first. “What bout me honey? Am I cute too?” Chris smirked tilting his head up, his lips puckered out for a kiss, only for the triplets to attempt to mirror him and want a kiss from their momma too.

“Sorry baby, my little tots get theirs first” Y/n giggled bending down over the side of the tub and kissing each Noah, Jacob and Isabella; all of them flailing around happily once their momma kissed them and tickled their sides to release those heavenly giggles. “Now for you daddy” Y/n smirked kissing her husband quickly but passionately on the lips, pulling back once they felt water being sprinkled at them.

“Awh you don’t like momma kissing daddy?” Y/n pouted seeing all three triplets were pouting with their eyes as big as saucers, their hands holding onto Chris’ leg hair harshly making him wince out. “Let’s just shampoo their heads and get these monsters ready for bed” Chris groaned prying their small fingers off his legs.

Grabbing their johnson baby shampoo, Y/n and Chris lathered them all up, smiling at how they all looked with shark spikes in their hair. “Okay wait let me get my camera babe” Rushing back into the bedroom Y/n grabbed her polaroid, running back and ushering them all to pose. Noah and Jacob did the typical grumpy pout as their pose, whilst baby Isabella cupped her face with her hands like an adorable little princess.

“Hey let us get a picture too baby” Chris whined pulling his wife closer to the big tub, kissing her cheek as she took a selfie picture of them both, wide smiles all around the bathroom. The triplets now preoccupied with their marvel bath toys, the water sprinkler they had and their,,, Daddy’s leg hair.

Once they had gotten each baby into their respective towels, lotioned up and clad in diapers and onesies. It was finally time for beddy byes. With Isabella and Noah in Chris’ built arms and Jacob in Y/n’s arms, they tucked them into their beds, but within seconds they had all cramped themselves into Noah’s side by whimpering out for their usual sleepover; the triplets hated sleeping without the other for now.

“Well hopefully if they sleep well, we can have our own fun time momma, maybe have another set of-“

“Chris! Don’t even say that, you’ll manifest it” Y/n whimpered turning on their bunny nightlight, watching her three babies turn on their side and hug each other as tight as possible; there was barely enough room left to breathe with all the stuffies on the bed too. “Is there something so wrong about finding my wife absolutely gorgeous when pregnant?”

Chris smiled clutching his wife’s hand tightly, pulling her shorter stature back to their shared bedroom, which also was full of plush animals for when the kids decided they wanted to sleep with momma and daddy. Pushing them off the bed Chris gently laid his wife down, hovering over her, soft loving smiles on their faces as their hands started wandering.

“Ya know Bella would kill you if she saw you pushed bluey off the bed right?” Y/n laughed kissing up his neck, her fingers tracing over her name and her babies’ names tattooed over Chris’ chest, her heart pounding with so much love. “Ah well as long as her momma doesn’t tell her, we won’t have to worry will we? Come on baby, it’s been weeks, m’missin ya so much”

“I know honey, been neglectin you haven’t I?” Y/n whispered with her lips ghosting over his, his hands lingering underneath her silk robe as her hand palmed him through his pyjamas pants; both of them panting the more heated their kiss got, their tongues meeting out in the open. “What the shit?” Chris suddenly broke away sitting up right, both of them sighing when in an instant a loud cry came from down the hallway, the cockblockers. “You wait here baby, i’ll go see what’s up”

“Babies what’s wrong? have a bad dream” Chris whispered seeing all three of his tots sitting up right, all hugging onto each other as they cried into their onesies. Sitting onto the edge of the bed, Chris brought all three onto his lap, all of them nuzzling into his chest and grabbing onto it for dear life.

Their nappies weren’t dirty, they weren’t hungry so what was going on? Lifting up Noah to face level, he tucked him into his neck seeing as he was crying the loudest. Noah was a complete sucker for cuddles, just loving the warmth and love he got from his daddy and momma; so Chris knew this was the best way to comfort him, but for some reason his cries still didn’t subside.

“OW” Chris exclaimed suddenly feeling his little bugger take a chomp out of his cheek, suckling onto his skin whilst chewing on it like it was his favourite baby food. “What the fahk” Chris whispered to himself watching his baby boy just chew on his cheek, trying to pry him off before suddenly, he felt another mouth latch onto his pointer finger. They were teething.

Then he thought, where’s Isabella, who was sitting there also red-eyed watching her brothers chew at her daddy as if he was some chew toy. “Bella, don’t bite daddy, ya hear me?” Chris said warningly watching his little girl come closer and closer, her mouth wide open and ready to chomp, now her small mouth was closing in on the arm wrapped around Noah’s body. Here we go…

“Gotcha baby, knew they’d start their munching soon” Y/n whispered grabbing Isabella from behind, before she could even bite down on her daddy’s arm, immediately placing a pacifier full of cold breast milk into her mouth; watching on as her mouth just bopped up and down cutely, her cries subsiding to quiet sobs and hiccups as she clawed onto her momma to snuggle in tight.

“Mama please tell me you have more of those amazing devices” Chris whimpered trying to pry Jacob’s mouth off his finger, the poor little boy just in so much pain from teething. “Of course, have a special one just for Jacob” Y/n smiled pulling an airplane themed paci out of her robe pocket, setting down Bella onto the bed, she grabbed Jacob gently and popped the cool tasty dummy into his mouth.

“Now get this bugger off, he’s practically eating me alive” Chris motioned to Noah who was busy try to bite at his cheeks, watching as Y/n swooped in, her hand carefully prying his mouth off and giving him his penguin paci, all three babies now more or less calm. “You’re amazing ya know that? How’d you know what was happenin?”

“The baby monitor babe” Y/n laughed pointing to the camera settled in the corner of the room, a camera they used whenever the babies were down for the night or were napping. Jacob and Noah sat peacefully between their daddy’s thighs, both their hands fisting his shirt to keep him from standing up, their big puppy eyes looking up at him.

“Oh hell” Chris sighed feeling his heart break seeing all three babies now pouting up at him not wanting him to leave them, he hated how each of them had his wife’s features, making it even harder for him to say no. Y/n on the other hand saw Chris in all her babies, seeing the perfect mix of them both in three tiny clones. “M-maybe they can stay with us tonight? We did get an extended bed for a reason daddy”

Y/n cooed picking up Isabelle, her pacifier cutely bopping away with her growing teeth, her hands wrapped around her momma’s neck clearly ready to go to bed with her. “You read my mind momma, let’s go to bed” Chris sighed happily picking up Noah and Jacob in each arm, all three babies now smiling around their paci realising they’d be sleeping with their momma and daddy in their big, nice, warm snuggly bed.

Within seconds of entering the bedroom Bella instantly started whimpering, pointing to her baby bluey that was on the floor, from earlier’s shenanigans. Y/n gasped playfully, “Oh no poor Bluey” pouting she picked up the stuffy, handing it to her baby girl who hugged it dearly to her chest, nuzzling her head into it.

“Night night loves, momma and daddy love you so much” Y/n said softly kissing each of them on the forehead, hugging her boys who were still in Chris’ arms.

“My heart is going to burst from how cute they are” Y/n whispered setting her down onto the plush mattress, watching as she rolled over to her older brothers who were on the other side of the bed. “My heart already bursted, like four times, one for you and one for each of our tater tots” Chris smiled putting a pillow onto the edge where the babies were, also setting up the baby fence they had installed on that particular side, for nights like these.

“Stop it you, the babies are here, so no play time tonight” Y/n giggled hitting his shoulder as she slid in beside her babies, her arm hugging over all of them as they all hugged onto each other; Isabella scooting closer to her momma’s chest. “Can’t help it, still feels like it’s the first day I met ya” He whispered against the shell of her ear, his arm stretching over her waist and as far over his sons as possible.

“I love you Chris, thank you for this, all of this” Y/n whispered reaching for his hand and intertwining them together, “I love you so much more Mrs Evans, so much more and the little family you gave me. N’ maybe we can discuss having another-“

“Shush Evans”

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @patzammit @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @chrisevansdaughter @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @tojisbabymomma @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @tinyelfperson @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @royalwriteroftheuniverse @fdl305 @mirikusashes @marvelgurl @xoxokiaraaxoxo @caps-shield1918 @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @adoreyouusugar @imboredat2am @cevansgurl @girl-of-multi-fandoms @meetmeatyourworst @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @s-void @aerangi @roofwitty779 @ravenhood2792 @feltonswifesworld87 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @lastwandastan @angelmather1 @bval-1 @stuckysgirl27 @wintasssoldier @daddymack01 @keiva1000 @acornacre @thebaileybugle @seungcheol17daddy

#chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans one shot #dad! chris evans #chris x triplets!mom #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans rpf #husband!chris evans #chris evans fanfic #dad chris evans

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storiesforallfandoms · 10 months ago

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not used to normal ~ chris evans

word count: 2533

request?: yes!

@vrittivsanghavi

“Hey! I love your imagines!

Would you be up for writing one with chris x reader? Something similar to this song?

Love youuu”

description: in which she struggles to adjust to normal after a toxic relationship, but he’s willing to help her figure it out

pairing: chris evans x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of a toxic relationship, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

You and Chris could not be more different. Your entire life was chaos and mess, from your family to your past relationships. Your definition of “normal” was leagues different than most people’s. Then there was Chris, who had the healthiest family out of anyone you had ever known and, for the most part, he didn’t have anything bad to say about his exes and their relationships. He just said the relationships came to an amicable end.

You were just out of a particularly toxic relationship when you met Chris. You weren’t looking for another serious relationship and were instead just hooking up for some rebounds. Chris was very sweet, but you couldn’t let yourself fall for him. You weren't ready to let someone in, even if they were sweet and incredibly handsome. You were a little surprised when Chris was so understanding of your rejection, and something told you to give him your number anyway to keep in touch.

That was a few months ago, and now you were going on your first date.

He hadn’t pushed for it to happen. He had been very respectful and hadn’t once brought up going out again since your initial meeting. To your surprise, you were the one who asked him about getting dinner. You found yourself falling for him with every passing day and eventually you just couldn’t stand being only friends. And thus, you asked him out for dinner and he happily agreed.

You were mere minutes away from Chris coming to pick you up and you were still struggling to find an outfit. Everything in your closet gelt wrong. Jeans and a blouse? Too casual. A long, elegant dress? Too fancy. A maroon cocktail dress that was just above the knee, had spaghetti straps, and showed off a little cleavage? Well, you really liked that one actually. You thought with the right makeup and maybe a cardigan just in case, that it could be the perfect first date dress.

But you couldn’t stop the nagging voice in your head. It sounded like your ex, and he was snapping at you for wearing something so short and revealing. You could hear the insulting names he had called you so vividly, as if he were still there yelling.

You had to remind yourself that your ex wasn’t here anymore. Even if he was, he had no control over what you wore. No one did, besides you. But even reminding yourself of that didn’t do anything to ease the memory of his voice. Before you knew it, so much time had passed and you were still staring at yourself in the mirror. Chris would be here any minute and you still didn’t have your hair or makeup done.

You were just finishing your hair when a knock came at your front door. You cursed under your breath as you raced to answer it. Chris was stood there, looking handsome as ever. You couldn’t help but smile upon seeing him.

“Hey,” you said. “You look great.”

“So do you,” he said.

You shook your head. “Ah, I’m not fully ready yet. I don’t have my makeup on or anything.”

You were stunned into silence at his comment. You were almost tempted to call his bluff on it; to say you didn’t believe that he actually meant it and was just saying it for your sake. But you knew Chris was an honest man. He genuinely thought you were beautiful without makeup.

There wasn’t any time for you to try and do your makeup anyways, so you grabbed your purse and followed Chris out to his car. Like a gentleman, he held the door open for you as you got in. The ride to the restaurant was mostly some small talk. Since you two had been talking for months, you had already gotten past the getting to know each other phase, which was good because you usually hated that phase, but it made first date conversation incredibly awkward.

He opened the door for you again and even offered you a hand to help you out of his car. You were continuously shocked by how much of a gentleman he was. You made a mental note to send his mom a bouquet of her favorite flowers.

The restaurant was one of the most fancy places you had ever been to. You had been to a number of fine dining places before, but nothing as upscale as this. Looking at the prices on the menu almost made you nauseous. It was the one moment you were grateful for Chris’ celebrity status.

He ordered a bottle of wine for the two of you to share. After pouring up two glasses, he raised his glass towards you.

“What are we toasting to?” you asked.

“You decide,” he said.

You thought for a moment before saying, “To finally giving this a chance.”

His smile was like a child on Christmas morning.

You ordered an appetizer and your entrees. When the appetizers came out first, Chris started digging in right away. You hesitated, another unwelcome memory coming up in your mind: your ex telling you how gross you looked when you ate. He had told you it was his biggest pet peeve about you. You tried so many times to fix the problem, but it never worked and he just continued to complain.

“Are you okay?” Chris asked, bringing you back to reality.

“Oh, yeah,” you said. “Just zoned out, sorry.”

You took some of the appetizer onto your small plate and began eating, being mindful of taking small bites and covering your mouth as you chewed. When your main course came, you repeated the process.

“I’m not used to knowing so much about someone before the first date,” Chris said at some point after the two of you had been silent for a while. “It kind of takes away every talking point I had.”

You chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing. Like, what do people who know each other even talk about on first dates? The weather?”

“Well, you’ve never told me much about your family. Maybe we could talk about that, if you want.”

Your smile faltered, but only a little. You hoped Chris didn’t notice.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love your family. You did, very much so. And they weren’t bad people or anything. They were just messier than Chris’ family, so to speak. Your parents had gone through a messy divorce, the kind where they still hated each other’s guts to that day. They couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as one another. When you graduated, you had to have them sit on complete opposite ends of the auditorium for your cap and gown ceremony. You were an only child, and you had a good connection with both of your parents. There was just always some sort of crisis between them, and they always managed to drag you into the middle of it.

“It’s just me, no siblings,” you started. “My parents got divorced when I was a kid.”

“How young?”

“I was like, five or six I think?”

Chris whistled. “That’s rough. I thought it was hard when mine got divorced when I was 18.”

There was some comfort in knowing that Chris was also a child of divorce. At least his home life wasn’t as picture perfect.

“Do they get along, at least?” he asked.

You laughed, humorlessly. “Yeah, they get along about as well as cats and dogs. Actually, that’s giving them too much credit. They get along as well as cats and mice.”

“Jesus. I can’t imagine having to deal with that at such a young age.”

“Be lucky you didn’t have to.”

You tried not to sound too bitter, but you also couldn’t help but stab your food with your fork as if it had personally offended you.

“I think their divorce must have something to do with why I usually date such shitty men,” you said before you could stop yourself. Your eyes widened as you looked back up at Chris. “Ignore that. I don’t even know where that came from.”

But he didn’t seem offended or weirded out by what you said. Instead, he responded, “It’s alright. You mentioned you had a bad breakup when we first met. I assume he was also a bad person in general.”

You nodded. “You have no idea.”

You thought back every time you heard your ex’s voice in your head. Not just tonight, but in general. Even when you were just trying to go about your day to day life, you could hear the way he criticized and berated you. You had always known while you were in your relationship that he wasn’t a good guy, but you turned a blind eye to the red flags for so long that it just felt like a normal relationship. It took a lot to get you to finally come to your senses and dump his sorry ass, but by that point the damage had been done. He gave you trauma that you would be carrying around for a very long time.

You glanced up at Chris, who was still looking at you as well. You wondered if he really deserved to be with someone with so much baggage. Sure, he liked you now, but how much would he like you once he knew what he was dealing with? He was such a nice guy, he deserved to be with someone else who was just as nice and not damaged as he was.

The thought brought tears to your eyes and you quickly looked away from him. Not quick enough, though, as his hand quickly reached over to take hold of yours and he said, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

A noise came out of you that was half laugh and half sob. You shook your head. “You didn’t make me upset. Trust me, you’ve made me very happy in the few months that we’ve known one another. You are one of the most genuinely good people I think I have ever met.”

“Thanks, I pride myself on not being an asshole.”

When you laughed this time, it was definitely just a laugh. “I just worry that...if things go further with us, that it won’t be good for you.”

He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, my last relationship went on for a long time. Far too long. To a point where the only thing I knew was a toxic and shitty relationship. I have a lot of bad hardwiring in my brain right now around relationships. That’s why I turned you down when we first met. I wasn’t ready to get back into anything serious because I was too afraid. But I really like you, so I wanted to give this a try, and now I’m worried that my baggage is going to be too much for you to handle and you don’t deserve that.”

He squeezed your hand, which caused you to stop talking. You realized you had been rambling, and you weren’t really sure if you were making any sense.

“Listen, I understand,” he said. “When something like that happens, it fucks with your mind for a long time. I never wanted to rush you into something you weren’t ready for, but I also don’t want you to push me away because you think it will be better for me. Whether you want me to be a friend or a boyfriend, I’ll be here for you. I’ll help you through whatever you’re going through. I really like you, too.”

You tried to blink back the new tears that were forming in your eyes, but it was nearly impossible. To try and lighten the mood, you joked, “Stop being such a good guy. Seriously, have one flaw please.”

He laughed, and the mood was successfully lightened.

You continued on with your date and it went very well from there on. You were so full from your appetizer and meal, but Chris insisted on ordering a dessert to take with you. He said it was some of the best dessert he had ever had, and if you didn’t eat it now you had to have it later on (his words).

He paid for your meal and the two of you left. It had gotten a bit colder while you were inside, and you only then realized that you forgot to bring a cardigan like you planned. You shivered as the cold air touched your bare shoulders and legs, and wrapped your arms around yourself to try and retain any heat you had left from being in the restaurant.

“Are you cold?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, I forgot to bring a jacket or anything,” you responded. He started to shrug out of his jacket. “You don’t have to give me yours! Your car isn’t parked that far away.”

“Once you catch a chill, it’s hard to get rid of,” he explained. “Here, just wear it till we get to the car at least.”

He wrapped his jacket around your shoulders. You pulled it close to you, letting the heat from it warm you up. You took a moment to breathe in the scent of him that was on the jacket.

The ride home was more lively than before. You had managed to finally find a good conversational stride that hadn’t died down since you had been eating. At some point while driving you home, Chris reached over to take your hand in his. He held it the rest of the way back to your place. You hoped he couldn’t feel the fact that your body was on fire just from his touch.

He insisted on walking you to your front door once he had reached your house. You weren’t about to say no. You almost didn’t want the night to end and any amount of extra time you could get you were going to take.

“I had a great time tonight,” you told him once you had reached your door.

“So great that you’d like to do it again?” he asked, a hopeful look on his face.

You smiled and nodded. “I would very much like to do this again, yes.”

“Great. Okay. Yeah, great.”

You giggled. The two of you lingered for a moment. You wondered which of you was going to break and leave first.

“Can I kiss you?” he finally asked after some time.

Instead of responding, you moved to kiss him first. It wasn’t perfect, you kind of lunged at him at first. You both stumbled and laughed about it. Once you had regained yourselves, Chris kissed you again. This one was definitely better than the first, but now it also made it difficult to want to stop kissing.

When Chris finally pulled away, you tried to follow him, but he laughed and held you back.

“If I don’t stop, I won’t leave,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound too terrible, though.”

He shook his head, but had an amused smile on his face. He kissed your forehead and took a step back. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You couldn’t stop smiling until you fell asleep.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #rpf

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k-evans-reads · 2 months ago

Text

The Spare

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Summary: When Princess Rosie unexpectedly is thrust into a political tour of the country, a working-class Air Force Captain is assigned to be her pilot. Although the princess is unhappy about the decision, she realizes she’s stepping into unknown territory when the unexpected happens

Chapter 1 l Main Masterlist | The Spare Masterlist

By @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

Word Count: 7,725

Chapter 2

Four Years Earlier

The sound of loud voices booming and laughter still followed Chris as he shook his head to himself, rolling his eyes as he walked further into the hangar, headed toward his fighter jet. He didn’t understand how one visit from a member of the royal family could cause such an uproar on the air force base, especially when the crowned prince was in their unit and most had gone through university with James as well. Sure he had seen the way other people treated James, knowing that one day he would be their king, but the further they had gotten knit together as a unit, the less it had mattered to all the guys. Chris figured because of that it wouldn’t be as shocking when another member of the royal family made an appearance on base, but the chaos that seemed to ensue the minute the princess had stepped out of the shiny black car was something that Chris just couldn’t seem to understand.

Well… that wasn’t completely true.

Having been born and raised in Ellington, Chris had been well aware of the royal family. He was constantly reading, hearing and seeing so much about them, although he had been too busy as a teenager working to help support himself and his mother to pay much attention. It wasn’t until he received a scholarship for university that he had met James, the future king of Ellington. He saw the way everyone treated him, varying between fawning over his every moment to completely avoiding him so they didn’t run the risk of saying or doing the wrong thing.

Maybe it was because of their first meeting when he laughed at James for missing the easiest layup on the basketball court, but from the moment Chris met him, the two had just connected. To Chris, he was just James, one of his best friends. And to James, Chris was what felt like his first real friend. The only guy who didn’t care who he was or what his position was but was simply just his friend.

They were constantly together throughout university and somehow ended up in the same unit once joining the royal Air Force afterward, something Chris knew was probably some special strings that were pulled but he didn’t care. He had come to see over the years that even though being a royal might have seemed glamorous, he’d seen the reality of how isolating and burdensome it was, and if he could be there for James, he was happy to be that.

With Chris being virtually the only person that James trusted implicitly, he heard a much more honest and unguarded version of James’ life as opposed to the highlight reel that was on the cover of newspapers. He knew of all the hard things like the strained relationship James had with his father, the virtually non-existent one he had with his mother, how insane his boarding school experience and schooling was, the immense pressure he had growing up, how he felt disconnected from his youngest sister Annie with her being so much younger and him already gone away to school. But he also knew that the saving grace of his growing up years and even now, was his sister Rosie.

By this point Chris had reached his cubby in the base, taking his time as he changed into his olive green flight suit and boots, preparing to go on a test flight but found himself smiling as he thought about the way James had talked about Rosie over the years. Chris couldn’t even count the amount of times their classmates or now even guys in their unit made comments to James about getting them an introduction to Princess Rosalie. She was arguably the most popular person in the country amongst most people, bringing a relatability and normalcy to the royal family who often felt out of touch with most of reality.

It was fairly often that one of her comical faces revealing everything she was thinking was photographed and put on the front page of the paper, or reports of her sparkling personality was talked about in contrast to the stoic and demure ways of most nobility. She felt more attainable, more in-touch with what was going on in the country and that made everyone look forward to seeing her more in the press in the coming years now that James would be serving in the Air Force.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed to Chris that James had always clammed up anytime someone mentioned his sister and that it was a long time before he even talked to Chris about her. James was fiercely protective of his sister and loved her so deeply. They were each other’s person, the only ones they could really trust and rely on, but once James started telling Chris more about her, he understood why. He had never even met her and Chris could feel a softness in his heart toward her just from hearing about her for so many years now. It was no wonder to him why James loved her so much, but when he saw her for the first time in person today, stepping out of that car, it also was no wonder to him why she caused such an uproar amongst the Air Force unit because as beautiful as those pictures of her were on the newspaper, they didn’t hold a candle to her in person.

As much as he would have liked to meet the girl he’d been hearing about for years, his dedication to his duty and annoyance at the way his unit turned into a bunch of ogling school boys at the sight of the princess made him need to get away. Chris had worked his ass off to get through university on his scholarship and was committed in every sense of the word to the Air Force, wanting to serve his country well and he wasn’t going to let himself be distracted by the loud chaos that was ensuing outside the hangar, instead focusing on making his way over to his jet to prep for his test run.

He hadn’t quite made it when the sound of a door opening echoed in the virtually empty hangar and a voice he’d only heard in a more restrained and proper tone on the television before echoed as she laughed, “It looks like coming to visit you is more dangerous than I thought.”

“I think you’re right, that was fuckin’ insane out there,” James laughed back, and Chris could practically see the look on James’s face from behind, the crinkle of his eyes, the smirk on his lips. “I don’t know that i’ve seen those guys go that ape over a girl before.”

The footsteps stopped just on the opposite side of the plane, blocking Chris from their view as the laughs continued to echo. “No I was more meaning the fact that your commander stands way too close to me and spits while he’s talking,” the princess snickered.

With a quick wipe of his hands on a rag, Chris poked his head out from behind the plane. He shot a kind smile to the princess before his eyes returned to James.“Try sitting in the front row at his briefings,” he chuckled, a smirk growing across his lips.

“Hey! I was wondering where the hell you went!” James greeted Chris, shaking off the hand Chris offered to him. “Chris, I want you to meet my sister, Rosie.”

Chris saw the way that Rosie visibly shifted, her posture tightening and her undoubtedly years of training kicking in as she put a beautiful but seemingly surface-level smile on her face as she put her hand out to greet him. Chris bowed to her but before he could take her hand, he saw James nudge her side, making her stumble slightly in her precarious heels as James told her, “Rosie, this is Chris, my best friend who I told you about. You don’t have to be formal with him.”

It was as if all those years - undoubtedly - media and publicity training slipped and it seemed as though the real Princess Rosie came out. A familiar look crossed her face, one that mimicked James’, as she mischievously arched a single brow and told him, “Oh yeah, I’ve heard about you…”

A strange feeling settled in Chris at those words, but he let the humor lead as he shook his head, admitting, “That could be dangerous.”

But his worries melted away at a simple shrug of Rosie’s shoulder as she conceded with a playful smile, “Maybe.”

Now, even all these years later, Chris could still vividly remember that smile. Sure he’d seen hundreds of photos of Rosie smiling in the papers but that smile he saw that day was different. It was one he still couldn’t forget even now as he walked up the steps to the grandiose palace, two immaculate guards opening the doors for him as he walked inside.

It felt weird to him to be entering in the place he’d seen in his history books in school on just a normal Monday. Although he’d been so close to James for years now, he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around that his best friend would one day be his King. The Air Force had been a level playing field for them all, but stepping in the palace just to meet his friend was the most surreal feeling he’d ever experienced.

Before he had a chance to dwell on it too much, he felt a hand clap on his back as James appeared next to him, smiling wide as he greeted him, “I’m glad you could come today.”

Chris suppressed an eye roll at those words, knowing there was no choice on his end - or anyone's end, really - once the royal family got involved in affairs. “Don’t even act like you didn’t pull rank and get me out of a briefing I was supposed to be in,” he muttered, only half serious. “I knew the second that they told me I suddenly wasn’t needed in it, I knew something was up.”

Chris’ words didn’t seem to affect the charming royal much. “Hey, being the prince does have its perks every now and then,” James admitted teasingly, before he turned serious. “Did you have a good time at the ceremony last night?”

He huffed out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a wry smirk. “You know I hate that shit,” he reminded James. The odd…. Well, he didn’t know whether it was a blessing or a curse, the extended invitations and offers of accompanying James to events, whether to charity visits that always warmed his heart within seconds, taking in the countless sporting events from the royal Box with beers in hand and the sun on their skin, or sitting through an admittedly painful dinner of tucked elbows, stick-straight posture, the pricks and pinches of safety pins on his hastily-altered suits. It was all just a bit much at times.

The gravel crunched under their feet as they rounded a bend in the path, following the carefully and overly lush landscaping through the gardens as a few members of the security team lingered about. Their presence was not lost on Chris as he felt their eyes on the pair every so often, keeping a respectable distance from them. James’ sarcastic laugh seemed appropriate as he pointed out, “Try being royal, it’s shit like that every day of the week.”

Chris raised a brow, his lips curling again, this time in genuine amusement. He’d always felt for James, knowing how desperately his friend wished to disappear in a way Chris and their peers always could. “If you’re trying to make me envy you, it’s not working,” he teased him playfully, keeping the tone light as birds chirped, flying above them.

“I am wondering though if now I have to only refer to you as Captain?” James asked, his shoulder bumping into Chris’ as he shoved his hands into his pockets, a playful twinkle in his eyes at his friend’s suddenly unamused expression.

“Only if I have to refer to you as prince now,” he retorted dryly.

His friend’s jaw dropped nearly instantly, causing a smile to grow on Chris’ face. James moved a hand, shoving a laughing Chris. “That’s a low blow.”

He shrugged, turning his head over his shoulder momentarily to catch a peek at the lake behind them before they turned to head back inside the large, ornate doors. “Well, ask a stupid question,” he answered, quickly thanking the guard as the doors were pulled open and they stepped back inside.

The doors closing echoed momentarily until the only sound was their soft footsteps on the pristine floors, reverberating off the walls of the estate.

James turned serious and his hand reached out, resting on Chris’ shoulder, making them come to a stop in the middle of the entrance hall. “Seriously Chris, I’m proud of you. Nobody is going to make a better captain than you,” he congratulated.

Chris gave a soft smile, nearly uncomfortable with the honest praise. “Let’s hope so,” he sheepishly answered, grateful for the trust James placed in him. “I still haven’t gotten my first posting yet so we’ll see where things go after this. I know there were some things on hold until this ceremony happened.”

There was a look on James’ face that Chris couldn’t quite read, but he figured out why when James began, “Funny you mention that because that’s part of the reason I asked you to come today. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…”

“I don’t know that I like the sound of that,” was Chris’ admission with a raised eyebrow, looking quizzically at his best friend who had become more like a brother to him over the past years.

“You probably won’t,” he saw James’ eyes crinkle up as he loudly laughed, Chris joining in with a chuckle of his own before his pace slowed as they ventured down the lengthy hallway Chris swore was longer than most of the Air Force hangars he’d been in. He shoved his hands in his pockets while turning to glance at James, his face more stoic as he started, “I know that you know about a little bit of what’s happened with my father.”

He just nodded before James motioned toward an open room, directing him to go in which Chris did, admitting on his way by, “Well, I’d still have you in my unit if it weren’t for that.”

There was a silence that hung in the air as James closed the door behind them, the sound echoing in the ornate room. Chris awkwardly stood, his hands fidgeting in his pockets with discomfort. He’d been with James nearly every day for years on end now, knowing him so well, better than just about anybody, but somehow this just felt different. He was standing here in the fucking royal palace and his best friend was the heir to the throne of the entire country. Here he wasn’t just his best friend James. Here he was the crowned prince.

Chris waited until James sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs, seeing him motion to the empty one before he sat himself, listening while James started explaining, “Things are actually a little worse than we thought. He needs a few months to recover which means I’m going to be here taking over for him more to give him space to rest and I’m sure you’ve seen in the papers that now Rosie is going to be taking my place on the tour.”

Over their years of friendship, he’d heard his fair share about James’ beloved sister and that coupled with what he’d read in the papers it wasn’t hard for him to imagine her reaction and couldn’t help but chuckle sarcastically, “I’m sure she’s thrilled about that.”

“You can imagine,” James just shot him a look through his own laugh, knowing just how accurate his satirical comment was. He ran a hand through his perfectly swooped over hair, his gaze falling to the carpet before admitting, “Honestly, I think Rosie has been struggling these past few years while I’ve been gone more than I realized. I stayed in the Air Force longer because I loved it and it’s what I wanted to do and honestly, I don’t think I really looked at how much it put on her.”

Not quite following him, Chris’ brows furrowed as he asked, “So are you trying to get her out of doing the tour?”

“No, I can’t really do that. I need her to do the tour because we just don’t really have a choice but the reality is that there’s a lot of pressure being put on Rosie in some different ways.” He vaguely motioned with his hand.

Chris knew there was a lot about royal life he didn’t understand and never would. Growing up with a single mother and an after school job to help buy groceries felt like night and day to how James no doubt grew up. With just a glance around the huge room with oil paintings on the wall, ornate furniture, and guards stationed right outside it was obvious how different their lives had been. But Chris had come to see just how burdensome James’ life was in a way he couldn’t imagine and couldn’t seem to understand what he alluded to with Rosie and point blank asked, “What do you mean by that?”

“There’s just a lot riding on this tour. There’s a lot of pressure on her for being a little more stable, being viewed differently, and it’s no secret about all the unrest there is along the coast which brings a pretty real level of a security threat that kind of scares me,” James admitted honestly to the person he knew he could trust more than anything. “It would make me feel a lot better if I knew there was someone there looking out for Rosie and making sure she’s alright and so I’m wondering if you’d be willing to be her pilot and on the security team for her during this tour.”

Hearing this struck a pang of fear in him, feeling like every bit of this was out of place for him. He was an Air Force captain, not someone who was prepared to do any of this. He rubbed a hand along his short beard, muttering, “Shit, I don’t know about this. I’m not trained for that and I’m not sure I’m the most qualified to be doing that for the Princess of Ellington.”

“It’s not like you’d be alone, there’s going to be the most highly trained people in the country and you’d go through a training before the tour. Also, because of what you’d be doing, it’d be double the salary you’re making now," he tried to convince him but with just the mention of a pay bump, Chris instantly felt more intrigued. For years he’d been sending most of his paychecks to his mother to help take care of her and lift some weight off her shoulders, but he knew a bump in pay would not only help him get ahead on some things of his own but fix up some of the things his mother’s home had been needing. Chris was busy making a mental list of all he could do with that when James added, “This isn’t something you have to say yes to, it’s not an order from the prince, it’s just a favor for a friend.”

With a laugh and a wave of his hand, Chris rolled his eyes playfully, “You had to fucking go there, pulling the friend card!”

“Well I know the prince asking you to do it wouldn’t be enough to pull you away from active duty,” James said through a laugh, knowing it was completely true but also that Chris was just about as loyal as they came and that he could rely on him for just about anything.

“I am going to be a little pissed at you for that," he emphasized playfully with a point of his finger.

A smirk gave away James’ feelings before he asked, “Does that mean you’re going to say yes?”

“Only because it’ll keep me busy enough that I won’t have to watch my best friend turning into a spoiled ass now that’s back to being a prince,” Chris snorted.

That response got a good laugh out of his best friend before a genuine smile crossed his lips and he admitted, “Seriously, thank you Chris. This means a lot to me.”

Unable to keep the teasing smile from his lips, he joked with a nudge to James’ knee, “Remember that when you sign my check.”

And with just that one conversation, Chris got swept into a whirlwind he wasn’t quite prepared for over the course of the next month. Being pulled from the Air Force had been tough enough, but having to sit through meeting after meeting about all of his responsibilities, safety protocols, and royal decorum and he felt like he couldn’t quite keep his head straight. There was no part of him that wanted to be doing this. Everything in him yearned for his unit and to be up in his fighter jet, following the duty for his country, but he knew that this duty was just as important.

Thinking back to when they’d first met, Chris wished he could tell his younger, scared, and intimidated self just how much James would quickly become like a brother more than anything to him over the years. Sure, he had been there for James, and he’d helped give James a sense of normalcy amongst prying eyes and intense attention, but the prince had been there for him just as much. Growing up with a single mother and tight finances had been difficult and without anyone else to rely on, Chris had felt the full weight of that. He had grown up well before his time, having to worry and bear the responsibility of more than his age normally would demand, and a way he knew James struggled to fully understand. Because of this, he knew there was a bit of an emotional wall that he’d put up, trying to always push away his vulnerable emotions to do what needed to be done, but James had been the first friend he could really be open with.

His best friend had proved to be such a loyal friend through and through, always being there to support him and able to pull out his real feelings in a way Chris didn’t even completely understand. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for James, and if it meant doing this, he decided he’d be able to handle it for a couple months. With his days being so packed full and being hours away from where he grew up, he hadn’t been able to see his mother for weeks but with only a few days before he set off on the tour, he carved out a time to drive toward the familiar terrain.

Chris recognized the sound of the rhythmic bumping of the car tires over the many potholes on the street as he slowed down to park in front of the old building. He climbed out and locked the car before starting to walk toward the building but seemed to linger on the sidewalk for a moment, his blue eyes just taking in the sight in front of him.

He knew the house he had grown up in wasn’t much to look at, sandwiched in the cramped neighborhood and right on the street. He knew how many times he had fixed the leaking faucet, had to install new windows a couple winters ago when the frames had rotted on the old ones, and how you could feel the vibrations of the cars driving by when you laid in bed. The house wasn’t pretty. Or new. Or spacious. But this house would always hold a special place in his heart thanks to the woman that lived inside.

Growing up with a single mother hadn’t always been the easiest life, remembering the many times as a teenager he’d close that black iron gate behind him late at night after working a job after school to help buy them groceries or make rent. He certainly had never gone without food or a roof over his head but things weren’t easy for them and he had seen just how tirelessly his loving mother worked to make sure he was taken care of. He remembered her saving up to buy a sewing machine, making it easier for her to be able to make their own clothes and fix any holes or tears that happened to existing ones, allowing them to get every bit of use out of everything they had. She was often up late clipping coupons or baking pies to sell to help bring in some extra money, all while still giving Chris all the love and nurturing in the world.

Chris leaned against that gate, just gazing at the house and remembering when he had gotten a scholarship to university and that deep drive and determination he had to make sure not one bit of it was wasted. That grit proved to be useful when his mother started developing some sharp pain in her back and knees, preventing her from keeping up the grueling work she had been doing and Chris stepped in to take care of her, sending most of his check from the Royal Air Force home to care for her, only keeping enough for himself to rent a tiny apartment and whatever else he needed for basic necessities.

There hadn’t been one moment of hesitation for him, wanting to do anything he could for the woman he loved more than anything and could still to this day put him in his place in the way only she could. She had always been there cheering him on, encouraging him, and loving him wholeheartedly with that same smile she had on her face now as she opened the teal door.

Her silvery gray hair was falling around her kind face, that sweet smile on her lips as she held her arms open, “Well don’t just stand there looking at the dead landscaping, come over and give me a hug!”

“Hey Ma," he smiled, walking over to wrap his arms around her short frame, feeling warm from the inside out as he genuinely said, “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s always a good day when I get to see you," she said with a hand rubbing his back before ushering him into the warm house, motioning around the kitchen as she started looking through cabinets, “What can I get you, honey? Coffee? Some cake?”

Chris was watching her through an inquisitive eye, seeing something she hadn’t admitted and spoke up, “Ma, you need to sit down. I can see you’re still favoring that knee.” She turned around, tucking her gray hair behind her ear before averting his gaze as she turned her back to dish him up a piece of what she knew to be his favorite cake as he questioned, “I thought you said it was getting better?”

“It is, just slowly," she shrugged, pouring him a glass of milk and without even looking up, shot back at him,“Don’t give me that look, Christopher.”

But Chris just laughed from where he sat at the worn wooden table and tossed his hands in the air, “I will if you keep refusing to take care of yourself!”

Margaret put down the piece of cake that he knew she made just for him, down on the table before patting his shoulder as she sat down in her own chair, “You just worry about me too much.”

“I’m afraid of what other shit you’re going to be feeding me while I’m away on this tour. Before I know it I’m probably going to find out you’re out dancing every night while I’m away,” he teased her easily before taking a bite of the cake he loved so much.

“Don’t you worry about me, I’ll keep on resting my knee like the doctor said,” she waved him off, being just as stubborn as he knew he could be before changing the subject, “Are you officially done with all your training for the tour?”

A deep sigh escaped Chris as he leaned back in the creaky chair. “Yeah I finished yesterday, although I don’t feel like it’s enough,” he admitted, his voice sounding befuddled even to himself. His hand twitched on the worn table, well-loved with everything from rings from glasses to paint from his youth and a frown on Chris’ face as his eyes bore into streaks of red paint. “I mean, I’m not the head of security, I’m mostly just the princess’ pilot and then will be the one escorting her to events but she’ll have a whole security team.”

But Margaret’s eyes never left her son’s face, her brow raising sharply. Her voice, however, was kind and curious as always as she mused, “That seems unusual that the pilot would be doing that.”

He shrugged helplessly. “I think it is, but I think it’s more James wanting someone he trusts with his sister,” he agreed, then added, “He made it sound like she’s maybe having a hard time with all of this so I think it’s maybe his way of making it easier or something like that. It’s obviously not really my first choice but I’ll do anything for James.”

“And I know he appreciates it,” she agreed honestly, and the twinkle in her eyes made Chris think about the many times Chris had caught rides from James and his security back home from university. He remembered the way the sleek cars would draw curious eyes on the streets, but no one ever spared a second glance when they saw Prince James dart out of the car to always give Margaret a hug before heading off to the palace.

“He probably just wants to earn points with you for getting me off of active duty,” Chris chuckled with a smirk.

“James already knows he’s my adopted son, he doesn’t have to earn any more points,” Margaret told him amusedly before she sat up a bit in her chair, her face twitching momentarily as her knee shifted below the table. “Although I do like him getting you off of active duty. You know how much I hate that.”

Chris' lips twitched, curling into an instinctive smile as her overprotectiveness shone through. He knew she struggled with his choice to enlist after university - being the only family the other had, the only one that looked out for the other - but it’d always made sense for him. It was a safe career path, one that provided a lot of opportunity to see places he’d otherwise never get to see, one that was all but guaranteed to keep him and also pay for the remainder of the university tuition fees that his scholarships didn’t cover. And James being there too? He couldn’t say that wasn’t a factor, getting to spend a few more years with his brother at his side before he inevitably became King, but it helped.

However, he knew his Ma disagreed, fretting about everything from his safety abroad to on the very planes that the royal family even approved of for their heir. But those fears were admittedly easy to shake off as his heads hit the clouds, leaving his worries behind back in his bedroom by the phone each day after he hung up his calls with her. “Well I don’t know that being on the security team for the princess of the country is a whole lot safer,” he pointed out quietly.

But Margaret simply chose to ignore the issue, something they’d both grown to do, instead asking, “Have you met Princess Rosalie yet? Is she just as beautiful in person as she is in the papers?”

He couldn’t help the loud laugh that burst out of him at those words, taken aback. “Ma!” He admonished, but he couldn’t stop the laughter that continued to echo throughout the tiny room.

“I’m just asking,” she shrugged, her eyes twinkling as she listened to him.

He shook his head, eyes dropping back down to the splattered paint on the table. His hand moved and he began scratching it lightly with his nail, despite knowing it was no use. At this point, it’d been on the table for at least twenty-five years, it wasn’t going anywhere unless the table did as well. “Well I only met her like four years ago for a few minutes. Later this afternoon I’m going back to the palace to see James and he said he wanted to introduce me to Rosie.”

But the look in Margaret’s eyes became a mix of surprise, amusement, and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on at his admission, and he found himself looking away from her gaze as she asked, “Oh so you haven’t even really met her and it’s already Rosie now?”

“I’m starting to think it’s a good thing I’m leaving for two months if you’re going to be stirring up trouble like that,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he gave up on removing the paint.

Margaret grew quiet for a few moments, eyes shining as she watched her only son. Chris' heart panged at the way she quickly moved her hand to disguise the few tears that escaped her eyes. “I’m so happy for you but I sure am going to miss you,” she told him, her voice soft and quiet. “I just love you so much.”

A soft sigh escaped Chris’ lips as he thought about the reality of the situation and vulnerably admitted, “I know, I love you too Ma and I’m going to miss you. This isn’t even really what I want to be doing but it’s a favor for James and I’m going to be making double my salary so that’s hard to say no to.”

“Well it’ll only be a couple months and then you can go back to the Air Force," she nodded, trying to brighten his spirits as well as reminding herself of when she’d see him next.

A genuine smile crossed his lips as he told her, “I’m already looking forward to that.”

Rosie stared at the books in front of her for several long moments before she reached both hands out, quickly pulling a few off the overstuffed and well-used bookshelf. Despite the longing desire to do nothing but sit in the plush armchair next to the grand bay window, Rosie begrudgingly and precariously packed the books in the bag sitting on her bed. She missed the short knock and creak of the door opening and closing in her haste to pack, knowing how much preparation there was still to do over the next several hours. Final fittings, final itinerary plans, and final interviews with a few Ellington-based outlets for pre-planned articles to come out throughout tour, showing “the strength and resilience of the royal family, even in the trying times they were in” she thought, reminding herself of the Communications Secretary, Edward Henry’s, words.

Her eyes nearly rolled out of her head at that memory when a soft “Ahem,” broke her train of thought, making her jump slightly as she turned to find her mother standing by the door to her bedroom. After a quick, routine curtsy to the Queen, her mother made her way to the sun-drenched arm chair, sitting perfectly on the overstuffed, well-loved chair, facing Rosie with an arched brow.

“Are you packing?” She asked her eldest daughter, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Rosie nodded, turning her back to her mother and she grabbed the last of the prepared items off her nightstand, delicately placing them in the bag. “Yeah, I’m almost done,” she informed her.

Her mother was quiet for a moment and as Rosie snuck a glance over her shoulder to Genevieve, she saw the mix of amusement and curiosity on her face. “You didn’t have Claire do it for you?” She questioned.

She simply shrugged. “She got all my basics but since I’ll be gone for two months I wanted to make sure I had some of the things I wanted,” she explained, and it was true - Claire had packed more clothes than Rosie had time to wear on tour, for everything from galas with dignitaries to visiting local youth sports programs to the very slight downtime she may have during her days. But it didn’t mean she wouldn’t want her favorite pair of slippers, hair brush, hair masks, or even her comfiest shirt to sleep in - the well-worn one she’d gotten early on at university.

A silence hung in the room for several moments as Rosie left the bag on her bed, knowing either Claire or one of the other aides would close up the bag when they fetched it later. She turned to her mother, arms crossed over her chest, both of them unsure what to say. The conversation didn’t feel strained, however, her relationship with her mother was well beyond the point of being uncomfortable after a lifetime of this. Of feeling that they never quite fit together the way her university friends seemed to with their mothers, having had a lifetime of caregiving to connect.

Instead, Rosie had never felt connected to her in any warm and fuzzy way. She and Annie had been kept at an arm’s distance from both of their parents through their childhood, and James had only been closer to prepare him for his future. Otherwise, the children were pawned off to nannies, teachers, and - eventually - to their respective boarding schools, with only the occasional letters or calls home.

“It’ll be nice and warm on the coast when you go. All of those beaches are so beautiful,” the Queen pointed out, and Rosie furrowed her brows a bit at those words but quickly schooled her expression.

“I’ve seen the schedule and I don’t think I'll hardly have time to breathe let alone go to the beach.”

Genevieve’s face faltered for a moment, her posture falling before straightening. “I’m sorry Rosalie…” she trailed off, her voice meek. “I’m mostly sorry you have to go on this tour at all.”

But Rosie shook her head, pushing herself forwards from where she’d been leaning on the footboard of her bed. “It’s fine,” she deflected, running a hand through her long hair, pausing momentarily before pointing out, “Dad and James overrule everyone, but that’s nothing new.”

Her mother’s frown deepened but a short knock at the door interrupted them. Rosie looked at her mother, watching as she called for them to enter. But to her surprise, the Palace staffer was there not for her mother, but for herself, informing her that Prince James was waiting for her down in the garden.

With an awkward goodbye to her mother, she left the room, the staffer trailing behind her along with a member of the security team as she made her way down various stairways, through historic hallways. As she made her way out to the gardens of the Palace, she found her brother waiting for her on a bench in front of dancing fountains, sitting in the sun.

They chatted briefly - James telling Rosie about his upcoming meetings with the Prime Minister, what he’d heard about the latest elections globally, and even that Annie’s university field hockey team had won their latest game.

It was simply passive small talk, serving only to try to break the ice and quell the tension between the siblings as they started to walk the gravel pathways through the garden, as James finally asked her, “Do you remember when you met Chris before? A few years ago?”

“Should I?” She asked, hardly able to remember much beyond the memorable meetings or the regular contacts she had outside of the Palace - those she spoke to often at her favorite charities, the nurses she regularly saw during visits to the hospital, and some of the more lively members of the public she’d met.

A sideways grin appeared on James’ face as he told her, “Not really, he’s only been my best friend for the past eight years.”

She gave him a sideways glare, thankful she’d worn flats as she stepped through the gravel. “Is that the real reason you want him on this tour? So you can spy on me?” She asked, her voice unamused.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice serious for a moment until she elbowed his side, making him laugh and hold his hands up placatingly before telling her, “I’m kidding, I want him there because I trust him more than anyone and I think he’ll make it easier for you.”

She dropped her eyes to the gravel, staring at the rocks with every passing step as her voice quietly admitted, “I don’t know that there’s a lot that’ll make it better.”

“Trust me, Chris will,” James promised her, and a familiar, comforting grin appeared on his face as he continued, “We roomed together all four years at uni, did all of our basic training together and were in the same unit so trust me when I say that once you guys warm up to each other, you’ll love him, he’s great.”

Although James kept talking about some memories over the years with Chris, Rosie couldn’t seem to concentrate on his words and found her mind wandering. She knew that James was just trying to help but she just felt like there wouldn’t be anything that would make this tour easier, and in fact having to get used to someone new seemed harder for her.

She tried to follow along as James laughed and recalled various adventures and misadventures the pair had gotten into over the years, but it did nothing to quell her growing anxieties as they slowly made their way from the gardens back towards the Palace, where a tall, lean figure came out of the doors and made their way over to them.

Having met literally thousands of people over the years Rosie had become very intuitive at reading people. It was easy for her to spy the nervousness in the tense and rigid appearance of his body. She glanced at his hands that were fidgeting inside his pockets, pulling them out before shoving them back in again as he walked closer to the siblings.

As his tall frame came to stop in front of her, she felt a little bit relaxed at the kindness that was evident in his eyes while his low voice greeted her with a bow, “Princess Rosalie, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

When he stood back up, she saw the polite smile across his lips. It was obvious that the smile was a little tense and didn’t quite reach his eyes, keeping it from being fully genuine but even still, Rosie couldn’t help but feel just how effortlessly charming it was and suddenly she found herself searching her brain for just how she could have forgotten having met him.

She reached out her perfectly manicured hand to take his, shaking it with the many layers of manners she had learned over the years and replied, “Nice to see you as well. Thank you for joining the tour.”

“It’s an honor," his blue eyes arched kindly while their hands disconnected.

“I’m glad you both are going to be together,” James couldn’t help but chime in before reaching over to give Chris a hearty pat on the back as he informed her, “Rosie, this guy is the best pilot I’ve ever seen. I swear he spends more time pouring over his plane than he does anything else.”

Rosie intently watched while the captain’s eyebrow rose, a jovial smirk dancing across his lips while he retorted, “Can you blame me when you’re the one I had to hang out with?”

“Hey you shouldn’t be making fun of me, I got you a pretty good gig for the next two months,” James argued with his hands held in defense.

Hearing his words made all of the feelings that were so near the surface come bubbling over as she muttered quietly, “I’m not so sure you did.”

It didn’t seem as if either of the men heard her, or if they did, both chose to ignore her as she was so often used to before Chris nodded politely at her and said, “I’m looking forward to being in your service, princess.”

With a surface smile, she easily replied, “Thank you, Captain. We’re honored to have you.”

After Rosie politely shook his hand and Chris bowed, she excused herself to head back into the palace to attend to the laundry list of things that were still left to do as the sound of the two men’s laughter echoed behind her. It was obvious to her that James had connected deeply to Chris and she honestly was so happy that they had. Rosie wanted James to have someone that he trusted and was so close to, knowing in their life how nearly impossible that felt, but at the same time she just wished that James could understand that was the exact reason that she didn’t want Chris.

At this time Rosie was supposed to have a break from the duties she had been thrown into the past four years in James’ absence. She finally was going to be able to step back but that was long gone now. The past few weeks she had come to accept it and knew she didn’t have a choice, but she had hoped that she would be able to bring more of the staff she felt comfortable with, someone to make her feel like she had a friend when she so often felt utterly and completely alone. But she knew that what James or her father said went no matter what. The best she could do was just hope these next two months would go by as quickly as possible.

A/N: Thank you for your patience as we tried to write some more before posting! We are so so excited to share this story and hope you are enjoying it as well.

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years ago

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Make Me Series Masterlist

Summary: Feeling bratty, you decide to test your man's patience. Too bad it's looking like your mouth just wrote a check that your ass can't cash.

Warnings: Daddy!Kink, Smut, Brat!Reader, Some DubCon, Degradation, Ass Play, Spanking (With Implements), Butt Plugs, Manhandling, Light Bondage, Minor Chase Kink, Games, Cursing, Minors DNI

Notes: The following is the first bit of Fanfiction I ever wrote for Tumblr. Although I've recently made a few minor edits, I am no longer currently writing Chris Evans RPF. Please heed the warnings and let me know what you think. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged. ___

Make Me: Part One - Always give Daddy what he wants.

Make Me: Part Two - You disobeyed Daddy. Now it's time to run.

Make Me: Part Three - Daddy wants to know if you’re gonna take your punishment like a good girl.

Cereal Brats: A Make Me Series Drabble - You decide to test your Daddy's patience while out grocery shopping.

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fandomfluffandfuck · 7 months ago

Note

Subbing (ha!) via ask so I can be anon

I would give my firstborn for you to write just about any M/F especially if it was another CE/Reader like "You Heard the Rumour about these Legs."

Honestly I will read and adore anything you write but that is one of my absolute all time fics and I'd go absolutely feral for more like it

"You Heard The Rumors 'Bout These Legs, Well I'm The One Who Spread 'Em"

Lmao, good to know 👀 Though I promise I don't need your firstborn 💀💀 and thank you, I'm so glad you enjoy my writing! 😘

So, of course, taking inspiration from your ask and the man, the myth, the legend himself--

Chris Evans × female!reader with tonguing, fingering, fucking, and jerking off. All that fun shit 😏

Chris is many things to many people. To you, though, Chris has always been a gentleman in and out of the proverbial bedroom (or the very literal bedroom, kitchen, living room, or car, or... y'know it doesn't matter where, just that you're alone and willing. And how could you not be willing when he looks and acts like that, anything he wants with you, he can have. You shiver just thinking about it). Chris always starts as a gentleman, at least.

As foreplay melts into something hotter and thicker, totally irrestable as the lust between you burned and crackled, Chris is still polite and kind and even serving toward you, yet...

Once he's spent some good time lavishing attention on you, pulling an orgasm or a few from you as if you're a marionette on strings that he's mastered and he can make fold and sing however he pleases, some of that polite nature melts away. It's not that he's rude. It's simply primal--and it's so goddamn sexy. You can hardly take it, your thighs pressing together, flexing, trying to make sense of the sticky, hot wash of arousal that always comes crashing over you. Because, damn, as much as you ache when he takes care to make sure your filled with lust and sparks, walking you closer and closer and closer to the edge with each touch, making you cum and then making you cum again, it's worse, better, when his patience is worn down, thinned, and he gets swept up in the pulsing, persuasive current of his arousal. The sensation buzzes underneath his skin like a live wire that demands his attention. He loses himself to it. So, suddenly, there's no room to think about giving you, and you alone, more and more. He has to take something for himself.

You want him to take it all.

Take you.

Have you.

Fuck you.

You've had enough. You don't need more when he gets like that; you could subsist off of the second-hand pleasure from him.

Christ.

It makes you feel sinful and powerful, the way he takes his pleasure from you. How he reacts to you. How he can't have enough of you. You're just too damn much for him to stand in the most erotic way.

Yeah, yeah, he can have you.

This time, when he reaches that point--his flesh and muscle melted down, leaving no strength, no defense to resist the bone-deep need he feels--he's already done so much. Given you so much.

Jesus Christ.

He's already gone down on you, his mouth putting in work between your legs, shameless and unrestrained with his tongue and lips and just that daring, dangerous hint of teeth with the sharp, heated edges of his beard.

You came with his beard scratching against your sensitive skin, hot, wet, hot, wet, so hot and wet, sofuckingwet, making you feel so wet. Shivering with the friction of his bearded jaw as it fucking started a fire but the fire is molten liquid that feels as if it's almost gushing from inside you. Flames consuming your body from the inside out. Fuck, Chris knows just how to stoke the flames, too. He strokes and rubs and presses with his tongue and lips and bearded jaw, even his nose, bumping your clit at the fucking perfect moment, keeping you purring. Roaring. If he's not fucking careful you'll burn the house down.

Ah!

He's already fingered you, too, working you to the brink and making you crash over it with his thick fingers curling inside you.

His fingers urge c'mere, c'mere, c'mere from within you, beckoning against that spot that makes your eyes roll back, a gasping moan overflowing from your lips, humid and all rasping breath. You'll go anywhere he tells you to, and you won't think twice, your back arching into a curve so deep you know you'll feel it in your muscles later. You don't care. You just want him to do it again.

A-again, oh, God, please, again, Chris!

And he's already fucked you, too. His rhythm filthy and fluid, unstopping, just building gloriously, with his thrusts carving deep enough to make you pant, at just the right angle to leave your nails digging into his shoulders, and then, God, then, sliding his hand sensually, heavily down your stomach to press the heel of his palm against your clit as he works, leaving you unable to shut your mouth, nearly drooling. Every time he thrusts inside you, your body arches and shudders as if possessed by animal lust and your clit rubs against his palm like a firework exploding.

Arousal curled so tightly inside you that it hurt. The pressure against your clit, the thickness of him inside you, the sounds of your bodies together adding to it divinely. Deliciously. God. God, it was all just biting and rough enough that you came clenching desperately around his cock, split open yet tangled into a tight, tight, tight knot.

Now, exhausted and just on the knifes edge of raw, pain mixing into your pleasure like venom that burns so sweetly yet leaves you limp and helpless, you're somehow still heated. You blame him. Jesus Christ. He's a fucking dog under all that pretty and polite. Bastard. How he keeps fucking fuck-just fucking going is beyond you sometimes. You're never going to tell him that, though. Then he might stop.

Nothing could be worse than him stopping.

You're hot everywhere and you can feel yourself dripping when he pulls his cock out of you with a lewd squelch that just fucking ties back into your fever. Bastard. He's the worst. How could he do this to you!? Oh, God, that fucking soaked sound echos through your head--his dick pulling out of your clenching pussy, clenching trying to fucking keep him where he belongs, deep and heavy inside you--and turns your vision to static. More and more, the longer you have to deal with that on loop in your head without anything other sensory input to drown it out and leave you thoughtless, you turn into static.

Squelch.

You hear it. You feel it. You're soaked.

Yet, he doesn't fuck back in, splitting you again, and finish like you expect. Like you want. You ache without him, you're so open, shivering and almost cold without the heat of him draped across you--shoved inside you.

Instead of fucking you until he cums, thrusts sloppier and messier now that he's focused on the pleasure tearing through him on a rampage, his hands glide over your goosebump-ed, slick skin. You're sweating so badly. You're leaking, too. More. Dripping. You need him. You don't need more, you might not be able to cum again, too much too soon, too good, but you want him to do whatever he wants to you. Desperately, you want it. It's all you can think about. All-consuming and ravenous.

As you shiver, weak and strung out, he turns your spread, melted body over, letting you soak into the sheets like butter on hot toast, and pulls you onto your knees.

Just onto your knees, getting them underneath you. He doesn't bother to untangle your fists from the messy sheets when you grab them, needing something to hold onto as anticipation wracks you. Despite how weak you feel, over-satiated and shaking, he knows he won't be able to rip you off of them. Fisting the sheets, you're too overwhelmed and wound too tight despite having cum multiple times already. He just needs you on your knees. He just--

He just needs you.

He can have you for his own desires. Anything. Everything.

Your blushing face and tits are pressed wantonly into the mused bed as your chest heaves. You're moaning wetly, breathily, into the mattress, hardly muffled at all with the lust he stirs in you as his big, heavy hands run up your back. His blunt fingernails stretch just a touch, that delicious bit of recklessness surging through. It feels so good. It must look good, too, because he groans deeply as you instinctively arch for him. And, oh, fuck--

Oh.

Oh, yesss.

You urgently fight your shaking, well-used muscles to arch just a little deeper, spread your thighs just a bit wider, and grasp the sheets just a little bit more in response to the dizzying slick sounds of his fist flying tightly over his cock. He's wet, too. Dripping with you. Using your wetness to slick himself. So shameless about it. And, shit, his voice chases the desperate sounds of he grips himself, a noise of agonized arousal, almost too turned on by you. A kick to the chest. Painful with how he's held off, devastated by the way it feels to let go.

It feels so good. It rolls off of him in waves as he grits out a few swears from behind you, jerking himself off frantically, that Boston accent coming out full force, cutting his filthy mouthed swears off at the end.

Fuckin', Jesus fuckin' Christ, baby.

Oh, the way that fills you with hot, clenching need all over again...

Want isn't a strong enough word. Need isn't strong enough, either. The way it makes you feel is insane; the way he makes you feel is insane with his eyes heated as they stare at your body, dragging across your skin in the most sultry way, all but sizzling, gazing at you so intensely you feel it through your whole body. Ripples of pleasure, just from being so thoroughly enjoyed. Stared at like that.

Fuck, it's like being prey, but you want it. You want to be torn into. You gasp with anticipation every time his teeth loom nearer, poised to bite down and make a feast of you--the sticky, leaking head of his cock keeps brushing hotly against your ass, his breath humid as it fans out against your skin. He's gone from kneeling upright behind you, taking you in, to curling forward, so attracted to you it's like gravity. Crumbling. He just can't help it.

Again, again, and again, his hips jerk forward instinctively. Fucking forward. Bucking needily. And you just keep choking on the sensation of his cock against your ass, smearing his pre-cum and your own slick wetness into you. God. Your thighs slide apart wider without your conscious mind having anything to say about it. He's so painstakingly close.

He could just--

He could slide right in. You're so wet. Wetter now, probably, then he was when he was inside you. It's just building. Building. Soaking. You're dripping, you swear it, melting from the inside out. If only he'd just--

He would hardly have to shift and he could fuck right into you!

He could do no work at all and shove himself inside, go back to filling you up. Fucking you hard. Carving space for himself inside your hot, wet, tight body and make you heavy with cock.

You want it so bad that your pussy throbs with your pounding heart. Frantic. A raw moan comes careening out of your mouth. You didn't even realize your mouth was still wide open, panting, chest heaving, heart racing faster.

As you struggle to breathe around the rising immense arousal inside you despite your emptied exhaustion from orgasming before, all the oxygen you get just makes you ignite more. Feeding the fire. Combusting hotly. Brightly. You feel all swollen and tight. Wet. You can hardly take it.

You can't take it!

Next, something of a whine surges out of your lungs. With each heave of your chest, you can feel your hard nipples brush against the sheets. You just feel tighter and tighter. Each time his cock brushes you, just the tip, each wet squelch of his fist, speeding up now, chasing and urgent, each sound he let's out, each gruff word he let's slip, swearing and saying your name, admiring you, using you, desperate to claim you until--

Ah, ah, ah! Ohh, God!

He does.

He cums wet and filthy across your presented ass with the most delicious sound and all the muscles under your too tight, feverish skin ripple all at once. And you sigh roughly. Raw, sandpaper edges to the sound. You're still fucking throbbing but you could--you could live, you could die happily with the sensation of his release soaking into your skin. You would ache but it would be more than enough, enough now and enough later to dive between your own thighs and touch yourself when he's not home later, on set, working, dipping your fingers into your own mess, stifling your sounds into his pillow, dreaming of the way he makes you feel, cumming to what he does to you.

You don't ache for long, though. You hardly have the time to think, to breathe before he's there. Here. He has you.

All he has to do to get you off is drag his fingers through the mess he's made across your ass and use it, as if he needs it, you're so drenched, to rub tight, fast circles around your clit.

OH!

It shocks you.

Electric.

So fittingly, lightning fast, one of your hands darts down to hold his hand there, fingers around his wrist as you uncontrollably gasp and plead for him to do that, yes, please, more, oh, ohh, Chris, yes! Just! Mmmgh! Just like th-thaaat! Reaching forward between your legs and touching, rubbing, merciless where you're most swollen and sensitive is nearly crewl at this point. It's murder. You mewl, grinding into the pressure, riding and riding the waves. It lasts. It really fucking lasts.

By the time you're done, you're more than exhausted and drenched. You already were those things, so what are you now? Not that it matters. You can't think. Your brain has turned to liquid and dripped out of your ears.

Giving up, your thighs slide apart shakily, leaving your heated, swollen slit to be revealed to the sex-thick air of the bedroom as you run across the bed like spilled ink, spread open and exposed. Messy. With the last of the air in your tender chest, you gasp--the air feels so shockingly cold, caressing your flesh. But you can't even speak to say so. It's so much. Overwhelming in every way. How does he do this to you? How does he manage to get so much from you? How does he manage to be kind and servicing and selfish and a fucking bastard? It's not fair! He drives you out of your mind, out of your body.

I hope that suffices 😘

#asks #fandomfluffandfuck #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #x reader #rpf #real person fanfiction

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holylulusworld · 2 years ago

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Nrfth (1) - Dreams do come true

Summary: A dream shattered. A heart broken.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Actress!Reader

Characters: OC Tracey

Warnings: fangirling, nervous reader, language

A/N: This series is a “short” chapter story. It contains of a collection of drabbles.

>> Prologue

“You’ve got this babe. Go in there, show them what they are sign up for if they hire you, and blow their minds,” Tracey is as excited as you are. “I knew you are going to film movies with Chris Evans one day.”

“Trace, it’s only thanks to you and Noah. He’s…a genius. I looked like a movie star in his movie. I’ll be forever grateful for the chance I got because of you two.”

“Babe, invite me to one red-carpet event, call me your favorite bitch when they ask you who I am, and we are even,” she snickers.

“Fuck, I’m so nervous,” you chew on your lower lip. “What if I fuck this up? This could be the only chance to land a role in the Marvel universe. If I fail now, everyone will remember.”

“I’ll tell you this only once,” Tracy says. She cups your face and forces you to breathe with her. “You are beautiful, strong, talented, and the biggest bitch in the Marvel universe. You can kick ass.”

“I can’t kick ass during the casting,” you laugh at Tracey’s determined look. She believes in you like no one else. “But I’ll give my all to land the role. And, if I walk over the red carpet for the first time, you’ll be by my side.”

The door finally opens again. Another disappointed-looking girl steps outside, sighing deeply. She’s prettier than you, and you remember her face from a show you watched a few weeks ago. If she didn’t land the role. How shall you get it?

“Next,” the annoyed voice of the woman hosting the audition catches your attention. You tear your eyes away from the girl leaving without the role and focus on your chance.

“That’s me,” you confidentially say. This is it. Your chance to land a role.

If you do this right, you can film next to Chris Evans. Or at least be on the same set. Your agent said it’s possible that you never even meet Chris.

It doesn’t matter, though. Even if it’s a small role, you can say you made it. “Hi. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. You called my agent and—”

She raises her hand to stop you from talking too much. “Follow me. This way.”

She guides you toward a different room. You sigh. Maybe you don’t even get the chance to show them that you are a great actress.

“I-I thought you wanted me to come here.”

You follow her along the hallways, sighing as she won’t talk to you. “Go in there and read the lines we sent to your agent.” She finally says. The woman looks you up and down and gives you a half-smile. “Don’t freak out, okay? He’s only an actor.”

Holy fuck…no…really…holy fuck. Your breath hitches in your throat when you enter the room as Chris Evans stands there, holding the script in his hands.

“Ms. Y/L/N, welcome to the audition. You got the script we hope,” another woman asks.

“Yeah. Uh—thank you for giving me this chance. I got the script and practiced the lines,” you say.

Taking a deep breath, you open your bag to get the script out.

“Alright, can you read the first lines? Just to get into the scene?” the woman from earlier asks. She gives you a quick smile, knowing that you must be nervous around the star of the Marvel universe.

“Sure,” you hastily say. “I’ll enter the room, check the surroundings, and get my gun out,” you recite the entrance scene of your character. “Things get heated, I’m surrounded by Hydra agents, and then…a bullet hits me. The agents storm toward me right when…”

“I break through the wall,” Chris uses his captain voice. He strides towards you, looking you straight in the eyes. “Miss? Miss, are you alright?”

It’s Captain America looking at you, not the actor behind him.

“Captain America?” you fall into the roll. You pant and clutch your lower abdomen. “I got shot,” you fall to your knees, just like described in the script. “My partner…I need to find him, Captain.”

“You got hurt.”

“I can do this…” you whisper, faking losing consciousness. “Please, Captain. Don’t let them get him.”

That’s the end of the script for you. You want to end the scene and get back up. But Chris drops the script in his hands to pick up in bridal style.

It’s a struggle to not squeal, swoon, or drool when he carries you toward the couch in the room. He’s still in his role when he looks at you in his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he ends the scene with his line, and you are sure your heart stops beating for a moment when he leans closer to whisper. “I can do this all day…”

“HOLY FUCK BABE!” Tracey raises her glass at you. “You are going to be a famous movie star and bang Chris Evans.”

“Babe, I won’t bang anyone. And my role is still small. I don’t even know if my character will survive the first episode,” you try to make her see, this role can mean your breakthrough or just a few bucks on your bank account. “You know how it is. The sidekick always ends up dead…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x actress!reader #Nrfth (1) - Dreams do come true #tw: rpf #chris evans angst

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impala-dreamer · 1 year ago

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Just A Few More

A Short Story

~Sometimes you mess up and have to lay back and accept your punishment.~

Chris Evans x F!Reader

573 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Forced Orgasms. Light Bondage. Punishment.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

His hands felt like fire on your skin. Every touch was like a thousand shocks of electricity pounding into your body, forcing you to cry out as his fingers slid into your slick heat. The screams grew louder and louder but he would not relent.

This was your punishment and Chris was an expert executioner.

Ropes bound your wrists and ankles to the giant bed, pillows made of down and blankets so soft you could cry cradled your writhing body, and Chris stood above, his bare chest glistening with sweat, his blue eyes clear and focused on your pleasure.

“Please!”

Your scream went unappreciated and his fingers curled deep inside, stroking again and again until your legs shook around his wrist.

“Go on, Kitten,” he said softly, dragging his thumb across your throbbing clit. “Cum for me like a good girl.”

“I can’t! I can’t anymore! Please!” Your head thrashed from side to side as your stomach clenched, the muscles in your body protesting another climax. “I’ll die!”

A devilish smirk passed his plump lips and Chris chuckled. “You won’t die, I promise you that.” The digit on your clit thrummed faster. “You may pass out… but I won’t let you die.”

The absolute surety in his voice made you shiver and the orgasm struck without your consent. It flooded your body with a rolling pleasure that exited your system through a wide-mouthed cry, but still, Chris would not let up.

He rubbed slower, yes, but just as confidently.

Your clit was aching, cunt raw and slick.

“N-no more, please…”

In a moment of mercy, Chris withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his lips, slowly licking himself clean of your mess.

“You taste divine.”

With the oxygen returning to your brain, his image became sharper in your vision. “Please…” It was all you could muster. Every cell was alive, each molecule of your being on edge and overstimulated.

It had been hours.

“Please what?” he asked, sliding down over you, strong arms holding him up as he hovered between your outstretched body.

“P-please no more,” you panted, exhausted. “I can’t cum anymore. I can’t.”

Biting his lip, Chris considered your request. You could see the wheels turning behind his crystal eyes. Slowly, the juicy bottom lip reappeared and he licked at the dent his teeth had made.

“No,” he said simply. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson just yet.”

Excitement and fear swirled in your gut. “No. No, I have! I promise.”

A single finger touched your lips and you stilled, falling silent but for your quick breaths. “You were flirting with that reporter. Full on flirting. Right in front of me. That cannot go unpunished.” Chris slid his finger down your chin, cut a line through your throat and straight down until he reached your cunt. “Just a few more, I think.” Three fingers slapped against your clit and you recoiled, arms and legs tugging on your bindings.

“Fuck!”

He kissed you silent, his eyes wide, staring deep into you. “Soon.”

And then he was gone, kissing his way down your body; a man on a mission. He settled between your thighs and blew a light breath across your slit, sparkling the arousal once more.

“Maybe next time you’ll remember who you belong to…”

There was a response in you, a promise to never ever forget again, but everything faded away as his tongue swept across your sore cunt.

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05

Written especially for @because-imma-lady-assface

#marvel fanfiction #marvel rpf #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #drabble

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brooklynbear32 · 10 months ago

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So I had the chance for some ~~alone time~~ this evening and decided to go through some of my AO3 bookmarks and just - ahem - reflect.

I came across one of my favourite ever Chris/Reader fics and let me tell you, dear friends: this is just as good every single time I read it. The best, most considerate part of it, is that there are two versions of it, one with female reader anatomical terms and one with male reader anatomical terms.

So after thoroughly enjoying myself, I scrolled down to leave a comment, something to the effect or "fourth kudos" or "🥵🥵🥵🥵🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠" and then, I saw it.

This fic, this absolute beacon of masturbation inspiration, has only ten comments, and HALF OF THEM ARE REPLIES FROM THE AUTHOR.

So here I am, @fandomfluffandfuck, standing on my rooftop, banging a pot with a wooden spoon, yelling at my meager follow count plus the whole gosh darn CE tag, to:

READ THIS FUCKING FIC FOR THE LOVE OF PORN

(and then leave a comment for fuck's sake!)

#chris evans fic #chris evans rpf #chris evans #chris evans x reader

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mxssingmemories · 1 year ago

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A Fresh Start

Summary: Y/N is finally moving out of her childhood home. It's a big decision, but she knows she's got Chris and Sebastian in her corner.\

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x teen!reader, Chris Evans x teen!reader

Warnings: None, really. Moving out of a parent's house? Pretty much just pure fluff.

Word Count: 600ish

A/N:I'm thinking of making a masterlist, what do y'all think? Hope you guys like this one <3

"Are you sure about this?" Chris asked, his voice quiet and uncertain. Nodding your head, you smiled. You were content with your decision. Moving out of your childhood home after ten years was a big decision, and you knew that. You just couldn't be in the house any longer-it was time to move on. You just got a role in your third Marvel movie, and you were growing up. In your eyes, this was the biggest step you had to take. It was time to get it out of the way.

Sebastian and Chris watched you pack your bags, helping when you asked. They knew better than to get in your way after the "Cake Incident." It was a bittersweet moment for everyone in the house. For the boys, it meant they finally were able to be close to you, but at the cost of leaving your childhood behind. For you, the worst part about this was leaving your parents.

The whole day, almost all you heard were reassurances that everything was fine, and it was starting to get on your last nerve. Not that you didn't appreciate it-of course you did- but they said it so much it became less true in your eyes. You had faith, though. After all, you were confident the boys would take care of you-no matter what.

After the final goodbyes with your parents were said, and the last box was packed into the van, you hopped in the back seat with Sebastian. When tears started to form in your eyes, he pulled you into his shoulder. You let your tears fall, comforted by Seb's warm embrace and the gentle rocking of the car. Eventually, your body stopped shaking, and you relaxed. You allowed yourself to be lulled to sleep, anxiously awaiting the arrival to Chris' house.

"Hey, kiddo, we're here." Sebastian murmured softly, shaking you. Groggily, you opened your eyes, widening them as you saw the size of the house. Choosing not to focus on that, you followed Chris into the bedroom he set up for you tiredly. Setting your overnight bag down, you followed the boys into the living room where they'd already cued up Iron Man 3. It was well-known in the cast that that's your favorite movie-you absolutely adored Robert. A content smile made its way across your face. They'd set up a nest of sorts, all kinds of pillows and blankets on the sofa. Dodger was nestled right in the middle of it, and the three of you hopped in your designated spots as the movie began to play.

That moment was exactly when you realized this was the right choice. You knew your boys would keep you safe and be there for you, and being a teenager in the acting world, you couldn't be more thankful.

As the movie played, Chris and Sebastian occasionally glanced over at you. They all had slightly worried looks on their faces, knowing the reality of the transition hadn't hit you yet. They were fully prepared to handle it when it did, though-they loved you too much to not be there for you.

When the credits finally rolled, Chris and Sebastian noticed you were asleep. With a soft smile on his face, Seb picked you up princess style and carried you up the stairs. Your eyes opened a little bit, and closed again when you realized you were safe in Sebastian's arms. He kicked the door open with his foot, pulling the covers back before laying you gently in the bed.

"Sleep well, Y/N," he whispered softly, kissing your forehead as he walked out. Shutting your door, a goofy grin made its way onto his face. He was so proud of you for making this decision, and he knew you were in good hands.

#my writing #chris evans x teen!reader #sebastian stan x teen!reader #fluff #chris evans fluff #sebastian stan fluff #marvel rpf #mcu cast

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buckyownsmylife · 1 year ago

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about a girl - chris evans angst

The one where Chris breaks your heart

Warnings: angst

A/N: yes, I did finally write an angsty piece. No, this was not provoked by whatever rumors have been circling around this man's life, as it has been written since last year or something of the sorts. Just enjoy it and don't forget to let me know if you liked it by reblogging it!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Everything was going well until it all went to shit. That’s the way my life seems to go.

The evening started like it always does: I walked into the party and Chris was already there, chatting up another girl who I had never seen before.

I didn’t feel attacked or intimidated. We’d danced this way before - countless times, in fact. It’d become some sort of routine now. The one who got there first would find some unsuspecting victim to chat up while we waited for the other to arrive.

I’d seen that movie a hundred times before. He never pounced, only played with the food until it got tired and old. That’s when he’d turn around and find me, and together we’d escape to a room or a bathroom - whatever was nearest.

Anywhere felt fine when I had his dick inside of me.

I’d been looking forward to this night for ages. Even primped myself for it. I was wearing my skimpiest dress, and nothing but a thong for Chris to undress tonight. So I didn’t even mind when he didn’t connect his eyes with mine once I walked through the door.

It was all a part of the game, I told myself. He liked the chase, and so did I.

“Why are you looking so gloom?” Brie scared me with the question. I had been staring at my beer for the last twenty minutes, waiting for Chris to make his move. I didn’t question it - he might have gotten lost in conversation. It happened quite often, depending on how much liquor was in his veins by the time I arrived. So I wasn’t even anxious, just a bit antsy. The underwear was riding up my butt and I just wanted to be without it.

I kept playing with the idea of interrupting their conversation to slip my panties into his pocket, but I decided against it. I wasn’t that adventurous. All of my energy in these gatherings was channeled into wild sex in “exotic” places. There wasn’t much of it left by now, as unfortunate as it was.

“I just…” I didn’t even know what to tell Brie. “I don’t know. Might be having a night off, that’s all.” She shouldn’t be worrying about me when the real reason why I was looking so out-of-place still hadn’t even glanced my way.

Another quick look and what I saw had my heart falling down to my stomach. Chris and the girl were full-on making out. He had her against the wall, one hand on her ass and the other buried in her hair, and I didn’t know what to say when my friend followed my line of sight and noticed what had gotten me so sad.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I didn’t need her words of compassion. It only had the mortification from this entire ordeal setting even heavier on my chest.

I knew Chris didn’t owe me anything; we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, we weren’t together together. But every one of our friends knew about our customary hook ups. They were used to looking for us and finding us together, sometimes in compromising positions, so for him to just kiss someone else like it was no big deal felt beyond humiliating to me.

I wanted to go home, then and there. But I also didn’t want my friends to realize how hurt I was about it, so I knew I’d have to stay. I’d stay there and endure the humiliation, even when - through giggles and groans - the two of them found their way into a bedroom together, while I was left alone in the corner of a party I only went to in the hopes of spending time with Christopher.

It was hours before I saw him again, and even then, he didn’t see me - too focused on the conversation he was having with a common friend. I tried to be quiet as I approached them, I actually only wanted to grab myself another beer and they were the ones standing in the kitchen, but since he had his back to me, he didn’t notice my arrival.

I, however, couldn’t not overhear his words.

“So what? We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend anyway. Believe me, I would never date Y/N…” And that’s when he noticed me, standing there with a frown on my face.

I didn’t know how to react. I wasn’t going to lash out. I knew I wasn’t his girlfriend, but to be considered someone who could never earn the title hurt more than I cared to admit.

I didn’t know what to do. So I just left.

“Y/N…” He ran after me, for what reason I couldn’t understand. It’s not like he cared about me, not after what he did tonight.

“No, go away!” I yelled, my voice betraying just how hurt I was by his behavior. I hated it, hated that I couldn’t hide my feelings from the person who was the cause of them.

“Go and jerk off or something. Or find someone else who will fall to her knees and suck you whenever you want it. It obviously won’t be too hard.”

“You won’t at least hear me out?” That had me stopping in my tracks, ire making my heart beat so loud I could hear it ringing in my ears.

“Are you dumb?” I had to ask. “What could you possibly say to justify what happened in there?” That caught him by surprise. He fidgeted in his spot but didn’t open his mouth to say anything, and so I figured we were done for the night.

But just as I was about to leave… “We never talked about anything serious!” As if that was my problem with what had happened in there.

“And believe me, that’s on me.” I shook my head vehemently, crossing my arms in front of my body to show him that I meant business. “But it ends here and now. I can’t keep feeling this way every time we’re in a party together.”

Chris looked like he was struggling with something, but I wasn’t interested in letting him work through it at that time. “I know you could never love me.” Well, I knew that, now. “Not if you behave like that. Not if your only goal in life is to get more women into bed with you.”

He didn’t say anything and that’s when I decided it was time for me to leave. But I probably shouldn’t have mistaken his silence as a sign of his peace of mind, because the second that I turned my back to him, I heard his voice - barely over a whisper: “Maybe I just don’t know how to express my feelings.”

#my fics #chris evans angst #chris evans #angst #rpf #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x reader

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f10werfae · 2 years ago

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Pretty boy n' his Pretty Peach

pairing: Frat!Chris Evans x Girlfriend!Reader

summary: A valentines celebration turns into a lovemaking fuck fest, with a lot of love, emotions and promises (Soft!Chris)(Fluffy aftercare)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Chris Masterlist, Full Masterlist

“Look at you pretty boy, eating m’pussy so fuckin’ well” Y/n whined looking down to see her frat boyfriend making out with her pussy, his nose nudging against her clit as he winked up at her. Chris’ backwards Cap was still on, along with his St.Christopher chain, and that was it. His hands clamped around her thighs to make sure she wasn’t able to move, his hips grinding his cock down onto her mattress for stimulation.

“Taste so good mama, could eat ya all day if ya’d let me” He groaned against her lower set of lips, kissing them, before pulling them with his lips and releasing them with a pop; Y/n’s head being thrown back from the feeling of his stubble also rubbing against her. She was sure there’d be beard burn later, and God she couldn’t wait to be marked up by him in another way.

“Yeah? Keep you between my legs all day, fuck your tongue is so warm on my pussy” She whined clamping her thighs around his head, feeling his tongue flick up and down her clit; her eyes widening and rolling to the back of her head. This all started when Chris came over to her dorm room after a long day of classes, the both of them planning to order in some takeout for a small Valentines day celebration. However once her door opened, he was greeted to the sight of his gorgeous girlfriend sitting propped up waiting for him, a new baby blue lingerie set on her body.

“Can feel you clenchin’ around my tongue baby, cum all over my tongue” Chris growled thrusting his tongue in and out of her hole, his hair being grabbed by her hand as she thrusted his head back and forth, her hips grinding against his face as she came right on his tongue; his lips humming against her swollen lips as he kissed them one last time before sitting up and facing his woman.

“Awk baby look at your cock, been humpin the mattress haven’t you? You’re so cute” Y/n giggled kissing her boyfriend’s lips softly, his hands reaching and groping her tits; her nipples hard against his palms. “Please ma, fuck my cock, n-need you so bad” Chris growled jerking his hips while Y/n rubbed his length slowly, his face desperate and furrowed. Y/n smiled kissing his lips gently, his voice whimpering as she pulled away before his tongue could even attempt to touch her lips.

“Want a kiss pretty boy? Gonna have to work for it” She smirked jerking his cock off, her thumb running over the slit on the head of his shaft, his head nodding rapidly as it rested on her chest; his tongue instead probing and sucking on her globes. “Such pretty tits, soft n’ smooth jus’ like my girl” Smirking he let his teeth graze over her nipple, her hand coming up to take off his baseball cap and throwing it somewhere across her room.

“Chrissy need you to cum right in my hand, wan’ it so bad” She breathed into his ear, her hand holding and gently scratching the nape of his neck, her other hand fisting his cock; her mouth spitting onto it to lube it up lewdly. “G-gonna cum baby, I-i Promise” He shuddered feeling his balls twitch as she cupped them, massaging them gently,

“Good job baby, so proud of you” She cooed lifting up to show her cum covered hand, maintaining eye contact with her man as she licked it clean, Chris not even caring as she used the same hand to cup his face and bring him in for a kiss. Both their juices mixing in a hot wet tongue kiss, his cock growing hard against her thigh. “Need my pussy now baby, m’gonna bust over here” He whimpered against her lips, both of theirs covered in cum and spit, filthy as fuck.

“She needs you too pretty boy, missin’ your thick tongue already” She whined licking a stripe up his cheek, both of them chuckling as she peppered kisses all over his face and neck, allowing him to rub his shaft up through her slick wet centre, coating in all her juicy goodness. His tip nudging her clit playfully as he watched her swollen lips hug over his cock, giving it a nice wet warm hug.

“Jesus baby this all for me yeah? God if we were married i’d knock ya up right here right now, a pussy like this deserves it” He chuckled tauntingly as his thumb ran up and down her slit, her body shivering with each run over, awaiting for him to finally impale her on his shaft. “All for you baby boy, fuck me like a wife that deserves to be fucked” She growled wiggling her hips, trying to catch his dick inside her hole, squealing as Chris slapped his cock on her clit.

Chris would be lying if he didn’t say hearing her call herself his wife got him horny, the thought of them finally committing to each other eternally got him emotional and rowdy at the same time. Even though they both knew they were in it for life, the thought of everyone knowing she was his for the long run made it even better; he couldn’t wait to graduate, marry her and start their own dream family.

“Happy Valentines day baby, my gorgeous gorgeous woman, take all you need” Breathing out he slowly filled her up inch by inch, her mouth agape as he stared up at him, clearly deeply in love; her lips forming a smile once she wrapped her arms around his neck. Despite their love making session starting off as a filthy wet mess, this was their time to emotionally connect and show just how much they missed and loved each other, even though he literally stayed over the night before.

“You feel so good Chrissy, my own pretty boy fuckin’ me so good” She whispered kissing just below his ear, sucking onto it softly enough just to leave a tiny hickey, just for her to see and know about. “This isn’t fucking honey, we’re making some sweet love tonight, gonna show you n’ your sweet pussy jus’ how serious I am about ya. Gonna take ya home with me in summer, play house with ya n’ cook for you; gonna introduce you to everyone as my fiancé” He whispered slowly thrusting in and out of her sopping wet cunt, the wet sounds combined with their soft gasps filling the room.

“M’gonna be your wife” She giggled thinking about the idea of getting married to her frat boyfriend, one who used to be known for being one of the biggest playboys alive. Her tits bouncing against his tattooed built chest, his thrusts regular and deep, allowing them to take their time to fully feel each other. His lips kissing her cheek lovingly, before reaching the corner of her mouth; his blue eyes trained on her glossy ones. “Y-you’re so deep Chrissy, can see you b-bulgin’ in me” She gasped looking down to see the slightest imprint of his huge cock coming through her body, his moans only getting louder as he nuzzled his head into her neck.

“Y-you’re takin’ me so well baby, gah, m’gonna cum honey, can I cum in you pretty?” He whimpered kissing her lips in tiny pecks, his forehead leaning against hers as she cupped his face tightly. “Cum inside me pretty boy, wan’ feel you flood me with your cum, n’watch it leak out” She whined biting his lip feeling her own orgasm catching up, her toes curling as she fell over the edge, her voice breaking and growling as her hips gyrated against his. His legs shaking and stuttering as he dumped his cum inside her velvety walls, both of them whispering quiet “I love yous” as they rode out their highs, Y/n’s legs staying wrapped around Chris’

Chris slowly pulled out gently, shimmying down her body as he left a trail of kisses, finally stopping at her stomach which was slightly bulged just from the mass amount of cum. “Honey what on Earth are ya doin?” She giggled propping herself up on her elbows to look down at her boyfriend, who was no longer her frat boy, he was her pretty boy.

“M’jus kissin ma baby” He joked smiling up at her giddily, moving back up her body to nuzzle in between her breasts; it was normal for him to do this, instead of using pillows. “The only baby we’re havin’ anytime soon is the chinese takeout still sittin’ on the counter” She scoffed raking her nails through his brunette hair, kissing his head every so often, small moans leaving her as he tugged on her nipples playfully. Their sensual moment being interrupted by a certain rumbling noise.

“Come on wifey, let’s get somethin’ in that tummy of yours, other than my cum” He winked hooking his arm under her back and under her legs, carrying her in the direction of her kitchen, leaving their wet mess in the bed to be cleaned up later. “Can I have the caramel chicken-“

Y/n couldn’t even finish her sentence before Chris had stuffed his portion of the caramel chicken into her mouth, his eyes smiling as he watched her do her happy food wiggle beside him, her nude body tucked into his side affectionately. “Oh wait shit my present” Chris rushed out, mouth full of egg fried rice as he ran towards his book bag on the floor, pulling out a neatly wrapped purple box.

“I thought your cock was present enough baby” Y/n laughed taking the box as she climbed to straddle his lap, still nude, both of them ignoring the fact that he had indeed grown hard once again. “I swear if you bought me something expensive again i’m gonna be so mad, I told you I don’t like you wastin’ your money on me” Y/n scolded carefully pulling apart the bow, Chris’ hands massaging her hips, his eyes watching her with so much love.

“Uh first off, I’ll have you know it’s not ‘wasting my money’ and no I did not buy you something expensive” He argued back playfully, his Boston accent coming out more thickly, his eyes like a child’s as he watched her look at the wooden statue in her hands.

The dark wood was shaped like a carousel and had tiny horses on it, her name carved into the side of it delicately, two tiny wooden people seen to be riding a horse together, the guy kissing the girl. “Hold on, is this us riding a carousel baby” Y/n asked seeing the guy wearing a backwards cap,

“Hell yeah baby, ya know that woodwork class I was takin? I asked for a few extra classes n’ boom I made ya a music box, see that necklace in the box? It winds it up so only you can hear it” He rambled taking the music box into his hands, excitedly showing her his handy-work, taking the key shaped necklace and winding it back for her; handing it back when the recording started to place

Was that Chris’ voice singing a thousand years by Christina Perri? Yes, yes it was

“Oh my god baby, You’re so freakin’ adorable! You’re singing our song! On a fuckin’ music box! That you Made! For Me!” She shouted gleefully, holding up the music box proudly, watching excited as the carousel went around and around, Chris felt his heart hammer with pride, he spent months on this project.

They’d only been dating less than a year.

“Wait honey why are you cryin? Is my voice that bad?” He joked bringing a thumb up to wipe a stray tear from his girlfriend’s face, her lips pursed as she set the music box onto the kitchen table, wrapping her arms around his torso. “N-no one’s ever given me something so- so nice before, i’m so in love with you it’s scary Evans. You better not leave me” She rambled kissing his lips again softly, her wet eyes as wide as saucers while looking up at him.

“We’re in this for life baby, me n’ you together forever, if you’ll have me. Josh told me this theory where Humans were originally created with four arms, four legs. And a head with two faces; fearing their power. Zeus split them into two separate parts condemning them to spend their lives In search of their other halves. Their soulmate. Y/n L/n I don’t think I need to look any further, because you are my soulmate, you’re right here. I found you”

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PSA: Hope this is okay for you all! I enjoyed writing it :)

library blog of works: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, please use library blog instead)

@pandaxnienke @patzammit @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @chrisevansdaughter @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @royalwriteroftheuniverse @mirikusashes @marvelgurl @xoxokiaraaxoxo @caps-shield1918 @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @adoreyouusugar @imboredat2am @cevansgurl @girl-of-multi-fandoms @meetmeatyourworst @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @s-void @aerangi @roofwitty779 @ravenhood2792 @feltonswifesworld87 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @lastwandastan @angelmather1 @bval-1 @stuckysgirl27 @wintasssoldier @daddymack01 @acornacre @thebaileybugle @seungcheol17daddy @esposadomd

Enjoy <33

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans one shot #chris evans fluff #chris evans rpf #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #frat!chris #chris evans oneshot #rpf #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

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buckybarnesandmarvel · 1 year ago

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THAT VIDEO OF CHRIS HAS GOTTEN ME OUT OF WRITERS BLOCK. EXPECT A FIC IN THE NEXT COUPLE DAYSSSSS! ♡♡♡♡

#chris #Chris Evans #cevans #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x reader #chris evans rpf #chris evans fluff

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k-evans-reads · 3 days ago

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In Living Color

Chapter 27

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 4,096

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

September 16th, 2022

It didn’t matter that the sun was barely starting to peek in through the windows, or the fact that this week had been nothing short of exhausting for him, or even that he had flown across the country late last night, Chris couldn’t sleep. He had managed to close his eyes and get a few hours of rest, but most of it had been completely restless as his brain swirled with so many noisy thoughts.

Chris laid there in that tiny bed, looking at Nat next to him as she was softly illuminated by the early morning sun and all he could feel was sick to his stomach. He saw the tear stains on her cheeks and bags under her eyes along with feeling how frail her frame was underneath his touch as he rested his hand on her waist and gently brushed her skin with his thumb. He remembered how only months earlier, he had come to San Francisco to make sure that their lives wouldn’t go separate ways. He knew they were meant to be together, he knew he wanted them to be together, so much so that he had that ring that he couldn’t wait to give her.

But in all this time over the summer he had no idea that she was sitting across the country completely miserable and that almost scared him more than anything. How could he have missed all of this? Why hadn’t she plainly told him how much she hated it here? Why did he ever call off his trip here last month and go home instead? How much farther would it have gone if Jamie hadn’t called him? And that was the thought that made his stomach churn.

Tears started falling down his cheeks as he looked at her sleeping next to him and couldn’t help but think that something so easily could have happened to her. How easily it would have been for her to get to even a worse point than she already was without him having a clue. She had been here struggling along with each day completely alone. His body shook with his crying as he thought about losing her, knowing that was something he just couldn’t handle.

He didn’t mean to wake her, wanting her to give her body the rest it so desperately needed but he just couldn’t stop his tears and the noise and shaking caused Nat’s puffy eyes to flutter open as she groggily asked, “Chris? What’s wrong?”

But he couldn’t respond. All he needed then was to feel her. To know she really was here. He wrapped his arms around her delicate frame and pressed himself against her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he heavily cried. Nat didn’t ask anything, instead just held him back just as tight and he felt a few of her own tears spilling on him.

There in the stillness and darkness of the morning, Chris whispered, “I could have lost you Nattie. I could have lost you and I didn’t even know what was going on.”

“I…I tried to tell you,” she admitted, her voice shaky and nearly silent. “I just didn’t know how.”

“Promise me if this ever happens again, you’ll be honest. I can’t lose you, Nattie, I just can’t,” Chris told her, feeling his heart race with that thought. He didn’t know how he’d go on if she wasn’t around, how he’d breathe without her by his side, tucked against him everyday.

“I promise I will,” Nat whispered. She took a shuddering breath as she wiped her eyes, adding, “I love you Chris and I just…”

“I know,” he interrupted, nodding a bit to himself. “I love you too, baby.”

He lifted his head, bringing his weepy eyes to look at her before leaning in to kiss her softly, reminding her silently that they were in this together. They were a team and nothing was going to pull them apart. Chris reached over to tuck a piece of curly hair behind her ear before apologizing, “I’m sorry I woke you. Try to go back to sleep, you need the rest.”

Nat nodded, her eyes already beginning to slip shut as the exhaustion once again took over. “Are you going to sleep more?” She mumbled as she rested her head further back against the pillow, rolling onto her side to face Chris.

“I think I’m going to go get some coffee but I’ll be here when you wake up,” he whispered back, his hand moving up and down her side slowly until she drifted back off to sleep. Once he was sure she was out, he slipped out of the bed slowly, making his way out of the bedroom and shutting the door behind him, finding his mother slowly making her way through the kitchen.

A small sideways smirk slipped onto his lips as he made his way through the small apartment, the floorboards creaking underneath his feet. “So I’m not the only one who couldn’t sleep, huh?” He asked quietly, grateful as he watched Lisa turn on the coffee maker.

She looked over her shoulder at him with an arched eyebrow as she replied, “Is that really surprising? You’re just worried about Nat, but I have you to worry about too.”

He nodded in understanding, leaning the small of his back against the old countertop as he stretched his aching, tense muscles. “I just don’t know how this happened,” he admitted, his voice low.

“Did Nat really not say anything about it?”

Chris shrugged as he thought. He’d overanalyzed everything from the last six months, scrolling back in their texts as far as he could, trying to read between the lines. “Well looking back now I remember her telling me how hard it was to settle here and I know I should have asked her more about it but I just never imagined it was like this,” he explained, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. “I never should have stayed home before filming, I should have come here and then I would have known.”

“You can’t go back now, honey. But we can help Nat through this,” Lisa encouraged him, filling a mug with coffee and a splash of creamer before she put it on the counter next to him so she could do the same for herself.

“She told me she feels like failing at this job is failing at her dream,” Chris recalled, sighing before he took a sip of the coffee. “I don’t know how to make her see that’s not true.”

Lisa stood across the tiny kitchen from Chris, only a few steps away. “I don’t know that she will see that it isn’t true, because it is true in her mind. I think instead of trying to change her mindset, you just need to be there for her,” she began, and Chris knew she was right, but it seemed like a rather impossible task to get themselves out of this hole.

“I don’t feel like I’ve done a good job at that,” he admitted while he stared down at his feet, his cheeks blushing a bit sheepishly.

“Well you can now,” Lisa encouraged.

“I just feel like this is my fault. Maybe if I wasn’t so busy, or maybe if I hadn’t suggested we go public at the Lightyear premiere things would be better… I know being in the spotlight isn’t something she wanted,” Chris explained, his brows furrowed as he thought back to that day, at how nervous Nat was to see the chatter online after. “I mean, I fuckin’ bought her a ring to propose to her while she was across the country completely miserable.”

“Chris, you can’t try to find the solution in the past,” Lisa told him firmly, and he knew she was right. She nearly always was and she always knew how to guide and encourage not only him and his siblings, but anyone else who came to her for advice as well. “There’s nothing you can do differently about the past, all you can do is handle things right now. I think what you need to focus on is what you know you want.”

He frowned, looking over at her as he asked, “What do you mean?”

“What is it that you want?”

“I just… I just want Nat. I want to be with her and I want her to be okay,” he decided after a moment of thought, knowing that that simple idea was all that mattered to him anymore after seeing just how low she’d been.

Lisa nodded, a warm, comforting smile on her lips. “Then try to come at everything from that angle. Don’t beat yourself up, don’t try to figure out where it went wrong, just remember you love her and want to help her and just try to do those two things right now,” she encouraged.

Chris nodded, knowing that she was right, but it still felt so daunting to him. Seeing just how much Nat was falling apart absolutely terrified him and for her to actually admit how much she hated it here made him aware of just how bad it must be. The heaviness in his heart had him feeling so downcast, thoughts churning over and over in his head while he occupied his time with cleaning up the messy apartment… just another sign at how much Nat was struggling to handle everything.

It wasn’t until both he and Lisa heard movement in the bedroom that Lisa grabbed her purse and told him that she was headed to the grocery store. He knew that Nat’s cabinets were bare but he also was thankful for the space his mother was giving so that they could have some time alone. Chris was just pouring her a cup of coffee when he saw her messy curls poke out of the bedroom, that frail little frame shuffling out as he instantly pulled her into his embrace the moment she was close enough.

“I was going to bring you coffee. Ma went out for a bit to get some groceries, ” he muttered while kissing the top of her head. When she didn’t respond, he dipped his head to look at her distressed face, asking, “Do you want to go back to bed?”

“…I probably shouldn’t,” She bit at her bottom lip, knowing as depressed as she was, she needed to try to get out of the place where she’d spent the majority of her time.

Chris just rubbed her back before glancing over at her couch, situated right by the big window that was letting the morning sunshine pour in and knew that always helped, suggesting, “Let’s just go sit on the couch, honey.”

With her coffee in one hand and his other arm securely around her shoulders, they slowly made their way to the couch. Chris sat down while Nat curled up, her back against the armrest while her legs were resting in Chris’ lap. He draped a blanket over their laps, tucking Nat in before he handed her the coffee and then let his warm hand rub along her leg. He decided not to say anything right now, just letting her sip her coffee. Chris was deep in his thoughts, trying to figure out what the hell to do when he was surprised, finally hearing Nat’s almost unrecognizable small voice hesitantly speak up.

“I don’t… I don’t know…” Nat trailed off, tears instantly clouding her vision as Chris looked at her with such concern, it made her heart ache.

“Don’t know what, baby?” He leaned in slightly, his voice soft but insistent. “You can tell me. I’m here for you.”

“I just don’t know… what to do,” Nat’s voice cracked, her words barely above a whisper. “I’m so miserable, Chris.” She could feel the weight of the world on her chest, and no matter how hard she tried to breathe, it felt like the air just wasn’t enough.

“It’s going to be okay, Nattie.” Chris’s hand found its way to her back, rubbing soothing circles as he tried to calm her. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay. We’re going to figure this out, I promise.”

“I don’t even know how to figure it out. Everything just feels so overwhelming,” she said, her voice faltering with exhaustion. It felt like she was stuck in a never-ending loop, and no matter which direction she turned, nothing made sense anymore.

“Do you feel like you want to talk it through a little?” Chris asked gently, trying to help her untangle the mess of thoughts swirling in her mind.

“…I just… I just need help,” Nat admitted, her chest tight with the weight of her words. It felt so hard to ask for help, but the longer she fought it, the harder everything became.

“That’s why I’m here, baby. I’m here to help you and I’m not leaving you until we’ve got some solutions,” Chris’s voice was firm yet warm, his determination matching the depth of his love for her. “You told me something earlier that I can’t stop thinking about though… that you failed at your dream.”

“I did,” Nat replied in a hollow voice, the words heavy with defeat.

“Why was this your dream, though?” Chris asked, his brow furrowing in concern. “I mean, Nattie, you’re an artist and a damn good one. That’s a completely different skill set than managing artists.”

“I don’t know,” she murmured, shaking her head slightly. “I guess I just… I saw my dad work so hard to support my dream all my life, and I wanted to be successful. I wanted to have the job that said I’d made it.” Her voice trembled with the weight of her own vulnerability. “I wanted to make him proud, I guess. I thought if I could prove I’d ‘made it’ in the way he would understand, it would make everything worth it.”

Chris felt a pang in his chest, knowing how deep her desire for approval ran, especially after losing her mom at such a young age. He could see the thread that tied her present struggles to that past pain—her fear of not measuring up, of being the “black sheep” in her family, of never fully fitting into the mold she’d hoped to fill.

“It’s okay that sometimes things don’t work out, though,” he said gently, trying to reassure her. “It’s not a reflection of you, Nattie. At the end of the day, it’s just a job. It’s not who you are.”

Her eyes met his, but there was still that deep fog of uncertainty behind them. Chris’s heart ached as he watched her struggle, as she curled up tighter on the couch, arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold it all together.

“Do you want to talk about it more?” he asked, rubbing his hand along her leg, trying to ground her. “I know it’s a lot, but maybe talking it through will help you feel less overwhelmed.”

She was quiet for a moment, tears continuing to streak down her cheeks, her breath shaky. “I just feel stuck. Like no matter what I do, it’s never going to be enough. And I don’t even know where to begin fixing it.”

Chris sighed, feeling the weight of her words sink into him. He didn’t know how to fix it all either, but he knew that the most important thing right now was to be there for her, to hold her while she figured it out.

“Nattie,” he asked, his voice soft but insistent. “When were you the most happy this past year?”

“What do you mean?” She looked up at him, her expression confused as she wiped at her eyes.

“When were you the most happy?” he repeated, his tone encouraging. “What pops into your mind when you think about being happy recently?”

“Oh…” Nat’s eyes drifted downward, her brow furrowing as she tried to sift through the last year in her mind. “Well, I mean, I guess honestly… when I was painting for my art show and…” She hesitated, her voice faltering, “Anytime I’m with you.”

Chris felt a flicker of hope. There it was—the spark of something that still made her feel alive. Art. And him. That was where her happiness lay, even if it felt so far out of reach right now.

“Nattie, you know that I’m going to support you in anything you want to do and I’m going to help you,” Chris said, the conviction in his voice growing stronger. “Maybe we could figure out some ways to make more time for us to be together, for you to do more art for yourself. You know, if that’s something you really want to do.”

“Maybe…” Her voice was hesitant, but Chris could see the wheels turning in her head, the possibility starting to form.

He tried to read her, sensing her internal struggle. “Tell me what you’re thinking, honey. I know it’s a lot to process, but I want to help. I want to understand.”

“I’m not sure.” Nat’s voice was small, almost fragile as she spoke. “I just feel so stuck, like nothing’s moving forward. Like I’m going in circles and I don’t even know what to do.”

Chris gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not alone, Nattie. You don’t have to figure it all out today, or even tomorrow. We can take it one step at a time.”

She met his gaze then, her eyes searching his face, as if she were trying to decide whether she was allowed to say the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

“Do you think you might want to see if you could go back to LA and just do what you were doing?” Chris asked, his tone tentative. “There, you’d be doing character design again and you’d have Jamie and Mark again.”

Nat’s eyes welled up again, and she reached up to wipe at them. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “It’s not about the job, though, Chris. It’s not about what I’m doing. I just… I feel like I’m drowning in it all. I don’t want to go back to that life.”

Chris leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, his thumb swiping under her eyes to catch the tears that kept falling. As he pulled back, Nat reached out for his hand, holding it tightly against her chest.

She looked at him with a newfound clarity, her voice quieter now, but more resolute. “Chris… I want to quit.”

At that one sentence, Chris felt like the air had been knocked out of him. The weight of it was staggering. Nat had always been a workaholic, driven by her ambition and passion. For her to say that she wanted to quit, he knew she had hit her breaking point.

“That’s okay, baby,” he said, his voice steady, though his heart ached for her. “It’s just a job, and you gave it your all. It’s just not the right fit for you.”

“I don’t want to go back to the Burbank office,” she added quietly, as if testing the waters. “I don’t want to do any of this anymore, Chris. I’m happy when I’m with you and when I’m painting, and I… I kind of just want to do that.”

The look on her face told him everything—she was finally giving herself permission to let go of the expectations, to stop chasing someone else’s idea of success.

Chris wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and pressed his face into her neck, letting the warmth of her soothe him as much as he hoped it would soothe her. A few of his own tears slipped out as he let out a breath, one that had been caught in his chest for days.

“I love you so much, Nattie,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You know I’m going to support you in anything you want to do, but I want to see you let go of what you think you need to do and instead focus on what you want to do. Jobs are just jobs, and it’s okay to want to do something different. Something that makes you happy.”

“You don’t think I’m a failure?” she asked softly, the vulnerability still there in her eyes.

“Natalie Marton, you are the farthest thing from a failure,” Chris said firmly, his voice full of conviction. “I just want to see you happy, whether that’s designing characters at Pixar or working at a coffee shop. I love you, Nat. And I don’t think I’ve kept it a secret that I want to be with you forever. I don’t care what you do as long as you’re happy.”

Her eyes softened, and for the first time in a long while, there was a light in them again. “Being with you and doing my art is what would make me happy,” she said, her voice steady for the first time since he’d been there.

Their arms snaked around each other, holding each other so tightly as they both finally felt like everything was going to be okay. Never in a million years did either of them think that when they each started working on Lightyear that it would somehow bring them here together. It brought them a missing piece in each of their lives, giving them each a love that they knew would last their whole lives. They were together and that’s what mattered more than anything.

“I’ll support you no matter what, Nattie,” Chris murmured, gently brushing his lips against her forehead. “You’re not alone in this. You’ve never been alone. And I promise, you don’t have to carry all of this by yourself anymore.”

Nat closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his words, the love in his embrace. In his arms, she felt safe. She felt like she could take a deep breath and finally let go of some of the weight she’d been carrying.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to hope. Hope that she could rebuild, that she could let go of the expectations and just do what felt right. Painting, being with Chris, finding peace within herself—it was all possible. Maybe it wasn’t a clear path yet, but it would be.

They stayed there, in the quiet of the morning, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside the apartment seeming far away and unimportant.

Chris gently kissed the top of her head again, then sighed, almost content, as his thoughts turned to the future. “You know,” he murmured, breaking the peaceful silence, “I’ve been carrying something around for a while now… but maybe it’s time to let it out.”

Nat’s eyes opened, curiosity and concern flickering in her gaze. “What is it?” she asked softly.

Chris hesitated for a second before he spoke, his voice full of emotion. “I’ve had a ring for you, Nattie. I was going to propose before all this… before everything happened. But now, I just want you to know that no matter what you decide—what job you take, where you go, what you do—I'm here. I’m in this with you. I want to spend my life with you.”

The words hung in the air, and for a long moment, Nat was silent, letting the weight of them settle between them. Her chest tightened, a fresh wave of emotion washing over her. She had always known how much Chris loved her, but hearing him say it like that—so sure, so unconditionally—made her heart swell.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“You don’t have to say anything right now.” Chris smiled, his thumb gently tracing her knuckles. “Just know that whenever you're ready, whenever you want to move forward, we’ll do it together.”

Nat rested her head back on his chest, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude and love. She wasn’t sure how she would get through the storm that had been her life recently, but with Chris by her side, she knew she could face anything.

For the first time in months, she allowed herself to think about a future—one that was different, one where she didn’t have to fit into anyone else’s idea of success, but one where she could be herself. And with Chris, there would be room for that.

It was time for a new dream. A dream of their own.

And whatever that looked like, she was ready to take it on.

A/N: It has been so so long and we are so thrilled to finally close out Nat's story! To those of you who have patiently waited, we cannot thank you enough for loving her. We do have a little summary of their future we will post in a few days as well. We hope it was worth the wait.

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saucy-sassy-sparkly · 2 years ago

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Pursuit of Happiness

1: Meet the Littlemans

Pairing: Chris Evans x Kat Littleman (OFC)

Summary: New England political daughter Kat Littleman is constantly showing up for her mother’s campaigns, playing the part of the perfect daughter in the perfect, American family. When her paths cross with Chris Evans while he canvases DC to build out ASP, she’s forced to face some truths about herself, her family, and her future.

Word Count: ~7k

Warnings: Chris is a bit of a horndog. Lots of swearing, alcohol, sex talk, politically charged topics, chaotic families

Note: Despite spending a lot of my formative years in and around DC, I know absolutely nothing about politics or how things work on The Hill. This also runs the risk of dipping into some political topics (hopefully not heavily, but certainly some commentary and references). If that could trigger you, please avoid this.

Series Masterlist

1: Meet the Littlemans

“It’s navy blue with a hot pink luggage strap around it.”

“I’m sorry ma’am,” the agent’s voice was distant as she sorted through the lost luggage around her, “it isn’t here. I’ll add you to our list. Can I get a name and phone number?” She didn’t even bother to force a smile at Kat as she returned to her computer and started to click buttons, presumably opening up the never-ending list of people whose luggage had been lost by United Airlines.

Kat rattled off her name and number, muttered a quick “thanks” to the agent who had already turned to the next customer, and wrestled with her tote bag over her puffy winter jacket. She shuffled through the hubbub of Dulles baggage claim and made her way to the sliding doors and the waiting arrivals pick-up.

The doors wooshed open and the blustery November air hit her straight in the face, sending her hair flying around her and sticking in her chapstick. Kat stopped abruptly to rummage through her bag and find her beanie, yanking it firmly on her head, and returning to scanning the waiting cars for her father’s huge SUV.

After pacing the sidewalk to the end of the waiting cars, Kat finally reached for her phone in the back of her jeans pocket and groaned when she realized she hadn’t even powered it back on. Being the rule-follower she was, if the flight crew asked that you turn off devices, she dutifully turned all of her devices off and sowed them for the flight. In the chaos at baggage claim, she’d forgotten to turn it back on.

As the screen lit up in her hands, she saw the missed calls and then texts from her father. Or rather… her father’s assistant, Ted. Why a former NFL tight end turned garden fanatic even had an assistant was unfathomable to Kat, but nonetheless she put the phone to her ear and listened to Ted’s voicemail.

“Hi Kathrine, it’s Ted. Ted Brown, Tim’s–err– your father’s assistant that is. I’m calling to let you know that your father tried to pick you up when your flight was scheduled to arrive, but once he learned it was delayed, he came back to the townhouse. He sends his apologies and looks forward to seeing you tomorrow at the gala.”

Clicking over to the texts and finding herself unsurprised to have four texts from Ted, all with the same general message and one with a link to the Uber app (thanks, Ted), and even one from her father that read: Sorry KitKat, Giants/Cowboys game was kicking off!

“For fuck sake, Dad…” she muttered before shoving her phone back in her pocket; Kat then turned to the taxi stand and was grateful there were several waiting. She poured herself into one, gave the driver her hotel address, and sank back into the seat to start doing the math:

It was currently 8:37p. By the time she got to the hotel, checked in, and to her room, it would be at least 9:15p– after a 12-hour travel day that should’ve only been 4 thanks to snow just about everywhere she was exhausted and would likely pass out after shoveling in a granola bar and water bottle from the mini bar. She had to be at a brunch with her mother at 10a Ambar, then was expected to pop over to the townhouse and visit with her father before going back to the hotel to get ready for the gala at 7p. That left her about four hours to find a black tie gown– not to mention something to wear to brunch, clean underwear, and makeup– to replace the one that was lost in the bowels of Dulles International Airport.

She fired off a quick “finally made it, talk tomorrow” text and watched the snowflakes hit the window of the cab and the lights of downtown rush by as the car took the slick streets way too quickly. But, Kat was too tired to care. She’d arrived at the airport with plenty of time for her preflight ritual: a cup of overpriced coffee and 40 minutes to read a smutty novel. She’d watched the big red “delayed” letters flash up on the departure screen once, then twice. After the fourth time, the gate agents stopped giving excuses over the intercom and just started to apologize.

Her flight finally boarded only to sit taxing for another 45 minutes before taking off for the less than two-hour flight. The 7:15p landing had then become an extra hour between waiting for the luggage carousel, discovering her bag was not coming and then hunting down the missing luggage desk.

Tim deciding to bail on pick-up and have his assistant call for him– that was the most consistent part of her day. Tim Littleman was, first of all, the opposite of his name. He was 6’4 but claimed to be 6’6, and had filled out since his professional days when Kat was a kid, but he was still fit and trim for a man in his late 50s. Tim also loved his kids but he loved football just a little bit more, even after being out of the game for years, it wasn’t a surprise– although always a disappointment– when he picked a football game over a drive to the airport with his youngest child.

Kat paid and tipped the driver and tumbled out of the car and into the infamous Watergate Hotel– her mother’s favorite spot to put Kat up for the night when she visited. Mallory always insisted it was to make life easier for Kat; as a 31-year-old, she’d obviously want her privacy from her parents when she was visiting! Over the years, Kat had stopped rolling her eyes or even bickering with her mother and had instead accepted a free stay in a balcony suite overlooking the Potomac River.

As expected, she passed out almost immediately and woke up with a start to her alarm sounding at 7:45a. The morning passed in a blur, sprinting to the nearest Zara for a quick brunch outfit to meet with Mallory and several of Mallory’s WASPy DC friends, then back to the hotel to shower and change, then back out again for brunch where her mother barely interacted with her and then headed back to her office while Kat went to the townhouse for coffee with Tim to discuss the prospects in his greenhouse garden back in Connecticut, and then back out shopping again. With only an hour to spare, she’d found a dress and pumps for the black-tie gala– an event to raise money for some important cause her mother only vaguely mentioned in her email requesting Kat’s attendance.

She was actually quite pleased with the last-minute find feeling confident when she’d examined herself in the mirror, and it fit all of Mallory’s qualifications which were: black tie appropriate, black or navy, and tasteful.

Kat used the polished metal reflection of the elevator doors to check herself one more time, smoothing down the black fabric and tossing her hair over her shoulder. The sound of the event met her ears before the doors slid open: laughter, clinking glasses, and quiet music. When she stepped out onto the plush carpet, she saw several familiar faces immediately and offered small waves and smiles while she studied the sea of people for one of her parents.

“Kathrine,” a perfectly manicured claw wrapped around Kat’s bicep signaled Mallory before she pulled her daughter around and closer to the nearest wall, “what are you wearing?”

“Hi, Mom, you look nice,” Kat deadpanned, bracing herself for impact as she took in her mother. Mallory was dressed in a perfectly tailored champagne number that was likely her typical Ralph Lauren. Her hair was pulled back in a tight French twist and she looked every bit the upper-crust Connecticut woman she was.

“This is highly inappropriate,” Mallory reached up and started to play with Kat’s hair, pulling it over her shoulders.

“I have no idea how to respond to that,” Kat bit back her urge to tell her mother that her dress looked like a wedding gown.

“Kathrine, this is just… it is far too sexy for this event.”

“This is the best I could do on short notice.”

“Short notice! You’ve known for months,” Mallory hissed at her daughter, dropping her voice so the women standing near them wouldn’t hear.

“Mom,” Kat huffed, “I told you at brunch that United lost my bag. I had to go out and get this today.”

“Right, right,” she waved at her daughter, still reaching out to maneuver her hair. “Well there is nothing we can do now,” she sighed and finally gave up before pushing her shoulders back.

Behind her was a ballroom full of political powerhouses– senators, congresspersons, aids, donors, and all the other powerful DC folks who liked to gather in rooms together and remind each other how important they are. Mallory had been working her way up the political world for years, starting on the Board of Education in Kat’s hometown (not that Mallory Littleman would’ve ever sent her children to public school, even in their wealthy town) and now just after her second election as a state senator. Hence, Kat’s summons to attend as part of the senator’s loving family. Kat hated these events… but showed up anyway.

Mallory huffed and dropped her hands to her hips, squaring her jaw at her daughter. “Don’t bring up your job.” This was a common command; never ever talk about work. Kat nodded dutifully.

“Yes ma’am.”

“And don’t mention your… that you… the…”

Kat cut her off and failed to contain her eye roll this time, “I won’t let anyone know that we’re not the perfect family.”

“Thank you,” she said curtly, still eyeing her daughter’s dress.

“Did that hurt,” Kat laughed, looking at the tight expression on her mother’s face after displaying gratitude for her daughter.

“Do not sass me, Kathrine. Tonight is a big deal. I need it to go well.”

Kat sighed, “yes ma’am,” and neglected to bring up the fact that Mallory said that for every political event to which she dragged her daughter.

Mallory ignored her, “you know who I need you to talk to?”

Kat nodded, “I was briefed by your aids. Which, by the way, I would’ve preferred to do with you than your 19-year-old college interns.”

“I mean they are hired to take things off my plate.”

“Where’s dad, Senator Littleman?”

“Kathrine,” Mallory’s tone was warning as she turned back to Kat, “please behave.”

“Promise, Senator, now I’m going to find Dad,” Kat pushed past her mother and started to move through the room, listening for her father’s loud laughter. Despite his faults, he was the far easier parent to be around. He was easy to talk to and could entertain a crowd: the perfect way to disappear in one of these large functions was to stand near Tim and let him relive his glory days to people who just oohed and ahhed appropriately in hopes that he would end up writing them some kind of donation check.

She spotted him across the room regaling a group of men. As she passed by familiar faces, she greeted them politely, engaging in small talk when necessary, and pushing her way closer and closer to Tim. When he caught a glimpse of her, his face split into a grin and he threw his arms wide, stepping between the men surrounding him, “There’s my KitKat!” He wrapped her in a hug, smothering her in his heavily applied Polo Blue. When he kissed her cheek and draped his arm over her shoulder, he turned back to the group, “Gents, this is my beautiful daughter Kathrine.”

Kat reached out her hand to shake with the shortest of the group, who introduced himself as Mark, “Kat is fine, it’s nice to meet you.”

Exchanging quick greetings with the other two, Joe and Chris, Tim quickly charged back in control of the conversation before she could say more, “Sweetheart, these boys are trying to get me to spend some money on them.”

Mark, or maybe it was Joe, jumped in with a laugh, immediately changing the narrative to describe the new political platform they were developing, but Kat had essentially stopped listening. She was too busy batting her eyelashes at Chris. He stood almost a head taller than her, his shoulders filling out his navy tuxedo in the most delicious way. His perfectly styled hair, his relaxed stance with one hand in his pocket, the other holding a beer– how refreshing; no one in DC admitted to liking something as lowly as beer, much less a Sam Adams.

He’d had been the last to introduce himself and their hands had lingered while Chris’s blue eyes blatantly trailed slowly down her body. She’d felt a blush rising in her cheeks when his eyes met hers again and a very brief but very smug smirk crossed his features.

Slowly he returned his focus to his colleagues and let them continue to explain their new venture, glancing at Kat now and then, who got caught staring back almost every time. She had to force herself to stare at Joe and Mark while they spoke, feeling Chris’s eyes trail over her skin.

As soon as she’d approached, Chris’s eyes had been immediately drawn to the skin of Kat’s thigh exposed in her dress. Most of the room was filled with an older crowd, the younger women in the room choosing much more conservative dresses for this event. Kat’s choice, with her shoulders, a hint of cleavage, and all that leg made Chris practically salivate. He’d been back and forth to DC for the last several months as he, Joe, and Mark tried to build a following and convince the political world to work with them; each time he was surrounded by women in pantsuits or blazers. The young aides usually wore their outfits slightly tighter, but it was still the same variations of cream, navy, and red work dresses… not that it had stopped him from spending some time getting to know a few of those women.

When the three men had entered the ballroom this evening, he’d been prepared with their usual speech, ready to network and subtly beg for support. He hadn’t been prepared to be adjusting his pants at the sight of this woman’s tight ass when she turned to hug her father. Chris didn’t even bother to scold himself; they’d been working all weekend, and more importantly, Kat’s eyes were drawn to him too.

Kat recognized Chris, albeit not immediately, but after several minutes of making eyes at each other while the people around them talked, it clicked into place that she’d seen some movies that featured his washboard abs and perfectly cut pecs. She watched his reaction when she tossed her hair over her shoulder, exposing her skin (and bumping her father’s hand, which briefly ruined her moment before regaining composure); his eyes moved across her collarbone and up her neck, settling a steady gaze back on her.

No one was paying attention to them anyway. Joe and Mark were chatting away and Tim was listening the best his ADHD and slightly narcissistic brain allowed him.

“Well boys,” Tim finally said, both literally and figuratively jolting his daughter back to reality with a shake of her shoulder, “that is a truly terrific pitch, but I’m the wrong one to give it to. Just didn’t have the heart to stop you. My wife, Mallory, is the politician in the family.”

As if summoned, Mallory’s voice called over Kat’s shoulder, “there you two are,” in a huff and appeared at her daughter’s side, putting more distance between Kat and Chris. Tim remade the introductions of the group and Kat didn’t miss the way Chris’s eyes stayed on her, not Mallory, when the three of them once again began to explain their idea.

This time, Chris did most of the talking, Joe and Mark only offering occasional additions, but he continued to flicker his eyes to Kat. Kat found herself more impressed; she’d assumed he was the Hollywood buy-in to get politicians' attention, not part of the actual brain power. She listened to him, adding her own questions as her mother did the same, and watched him get more and more animated as he rattled off what seemed to be a heartfelt passion project.

He finally paused when Joe took over explaining the technical side to Mallory and Kat allowed herself to look back at his stupidly handsome face; he lifted his beer towards her and raised his eyebrow, silently asking if she wanted a drink.

Kat started to nod when a well-dressed staff member approached and invited them to find their seats, dinner was being served. Chris spoke up before the group separated, “I’m going to grab another drink before I go to the table, can I get anyone anything?” He looked pointedly at Kat who started to speak when her mother spoke for her.

“What a lovely offer, but Kathrine and I don’t drink. Tim?” She turned to her husband, letting him give Chris his drink order, before wrapping her hand around Kat’s arm and pulling her away from the group towards the clusters of tables without a goodbye.

“Kathrine, don’t even think about it,” she hissed, staring at the place cards on a long table and searching for theirs. She reached across Kat, snatched all three off the table, pulled Kat towards table 4, and continued, “I knew this dress was too much for tonight.”

“What are you talking about, Mom?”

“I saw the look on your face and that boy's. Don’t you dare.”

They’d reached the table and Mallory immediately dropped Kat’s arm, circling to say hello to their companions. Kat tucked herself into the nearest chair and immediately moved for the bread basket, perking up when she discovered the rolls were still warm. Mallory perched on the chair next to Kat, still in conversation with another one of DC's most powerful people whose name Kat could never remember… nor ever tried to.

Tim joined them shortly, sliding into the chair on Mallory’s other side and calling a loud, “see you boys later,” and toasted them as Joe, Mark, and Chris walked away. Kat’s eyes flickered up to catch Chris’s, offering a coy smile to his nod.

“That is what I’m talking about,” Mallory was back in her ear, using her butter knife to gesture at Chris’s broad, retreating back.

“Mother, relax, I just smiled at him.”

“You think I was born yesterday? That was not just a smile.”

“You do realize I’m 31 years old, right? And it is perfectly acceptable to smile at a man or even, god forbid, flirt with him.” Kat’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she spread her napkin on her lap.

“I don’t care how old you are, you reflect my campaign and my values every time you’re seen with me. If there are pictures of you kissing Captain fucking America, it is a direct reflection of me.”

“Literally no one cares who your adult daughter kisses.”

“You don’t think it comes up every election? You don’t think that you and your brother and… Do you know how much of my staff it takes to be sure that our family doesn’t get our business blasted across headlines?”

“I wish you realized how much America did not care about my sex life or Ben’s,” Kat reached for her ice water and sipped slowly, wishing it was a vodka tonic, and glanced at her mother’s furrowed brow, “Careful, Mom, your Botox doesn’t like when you frown.”

Mallory huffed and leaned away to start speaking to Tim, whispering frantically at him and casting sidelong glances at Kat. Kat, however, leaned back in her chair and allowed the woman next to her– a Congressman from Minnesota’s wife– to share all of the details of the grandchild her daughter was expecting. Kat had to bite her tongue while she listened to the several-minute monologue about how silly she found it that some people wouldn’t want to buy gender-specific baby clothes anymore. She let the woman talk, as she did most of these people, and let her mind wander, only staying focused enough to offer the occasional, “you don’t say” or “wow, that’s incredible.”

She truly loathed these events. She’d lost track over the years of how many she’d shown up to, how often her mother trotted her out like a prized pony to amplify her mother’s strong family value platform before being sent back home to her normal life. Each time it came with an all-expenses paid plane ticket and hotel, several– usually public to avoid real conversation– visits with her mother, at least one major political fundraiser/gala/rally/etc., and then a quick and once again public goodbye from Mallory before the whole ordeal was over.

Kat knew she could stop coming, stop being hassled by her mother and used as a pawn, she knew that she could and certainly should stop saying yes and start saying no. Ben always reminded her that no was a complete sentence.

Ben.

Ben had stopped coming to these the second he moved out of the house, right about the same time that Mallory and Tim–mostly Mallory– had refused to acknowledge that Ben might not actually be the preppy, lacrosse-playing womanizer he was bred to be and was instead questioning all parts of his identity. He’d moved to Vancouver for a job, and met a wonderful man, Kevin, who Kat adored and had never looked back.

Kat missed him terribly, even after almost 10 years of living several time zones apart, and looked forward to their annual September trip together. They’d meet somewhere each year to celebrate their birthdays… four days and four years apart… together, often surrounded by other people they loved but never ever with their parents.

Kat couldn’t actually remember the last time the four of them shared the same air. It had to have been a holiday while Kat was still in high school and Ben was home from college for a break. She knew that he occasionally emailed Tim or exchanged a quick phone call, but that Ben hadn’t spoken to their mother since the day he’d graduated from college. At their celebration dinner, he’d handed her a check and said, “I won’t owe you anything ever again,” and flown to Canada the next morning. Kat had been devastated but she knew what it was like for Ben to grow in their house. She knew the best thing for him was to put the Canadian Border Patrol between him and Mallory.

Ben was her rock, one of her favorite humans, and her constant reminder that she was a pawn in Mallory’s system and needed to get out before people started to think she actually supported their mother’s platforms. That thought pulled her back into the conversation with the Congresswoman’s wife just in time to force a cheerful, “hurry back!” when she’d told Kat she needed to use the ‘little girl’s room’ and scurried off.

Kat took the moment to enjoy the silence and scanned the room. The sea of tables was tastefully if subtly decorated in muted tones and low centerpieces on each table to allow for conversation. There had to be at least 50 tables, each holding anywhere from 10-12 guests, all various members of wealthy DC society. The majority were politicians and their donor friends; a perk of donating thousands of dollars to a cause was getting to attend other functions for free as a ‘thank you for your support’… only to be expected to write a check at the end for whichever cause the evening endorsed.

Five tables away, she found Chris’s gelled hair and sharp jawline in profile while he laughed at something the woman next to him said. She allowed herself the moment to admire the imperfect slope of his nose, the way his smile showed all his teeth, and the way his biceps were visibly flexing even under his jacket as he lifted his fork to his mouth.

“He is very handsome, I’ll give you that,” Mallory leaned closer to her daughter, who had been actively ignoring her mother trying to catch her eye, “but do not embarrass me tonight, Kathrine.”

“And what would be embarrassing for you, Mom?” Kat sighed and looked at her mom.

Mallory paused, glancing at her husband who was deep in conversation, and back at Kat, “if you did something inappropriate with him.”

Kat grinned slyly, knowing how much her mother hated these kinds of conversations, “what do you consider inappropriate?”

“You know what I mean,” she huffed.

“I’m not sure that I do. Could you explain it to me?”

Mallory sighed heavily and waggled her finger, “do not go home with that boy.”

“He seems to be all man,” Kat countered, her eyes traveling back to Chris just to spite her frustrated, demanding mother. He was rising from the table and gesturing to his tablemates, seemingly taking drink orders.

“Kathrine Marissa Littleman,” Mallory’s voice dropped low and Kat knew she’d hit a nerve, “I do not need any gossip because of you, there has already been enough talk about everything else in our family.”

“There hasn’t been anything to talk about for years, Mom, please give me a break. I’m a grown-up.”

Mallory shot her one last look and stood from her seat, moving around behind Kat and towards an empty seat at the other side of the table to start working the room now that she’d finished her meal– it didn’t matter to her that no one else had.

Kat reached into her clutch and rifled around for a pen, finding one at the bottom, and slid her place card towards her. She folded open the thick cardstock and write inside it, closing it back up and slipping the pen back in her purse before whispering, “back in a bit,” to Tim, who waved his acknowledgment, and she moved through the room to the bar.

Chris leaned on the bar in front of her, chatting with the bartender as he gathered the drinks for Chris’s table. She took a deep breath and stepped beside him and ordered a vodka tonic from the other barkeep; her voice caught Chris’s attention, who leaned on one arm.

“Kathrine,” her name in his deep timbre sent a chill down her spine and a warmth filling her belly.

“Christopher,” she countered, throwing a smile over her shoulder at him.

“I see that ‘we don’t drink’ thing was bullshit,” he nodded to the drink she now took a deep swallow from.

“Just another politician making things up.”

He gathered the drinks from the bartender– another beer for him, a wine for one of his tablemates, and a scotch for Joe, and turned to her– “Gimme a second. Don’t move.”

Kat nodded and watched him strut away; she toyed with the place card in her hand. She flipped it open, looking at her handwriting on the inside, and looked back up at Chris, who was just arriving at the table. Throwing her shoulders back, she followed after him, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I thought you were waiting for me,” he said quietly, dipping his head low to talk to her.

“I changed my mind,” she smiled and slid her hand down from his shoulder, briefly across his bicep, and to grip his large hand. She squeezed, pushing the cardstock into his hands, and turned gracefully on her heels. She moved slowly, knowing he was watching her, and swung her hips ever so slightly as she made her way across the room to the exit closest to the elevator.

She entered it alone, letting the doors slide shut and giving her a chance to take a deep breath, and another gulp of her drink before the doors were opening again on her floor.

In her room, she finished off her drink and mixed a new one from the minibar, and then moved across the suite to stand at the sliding glass doors. Her heart was pounding in her chest with both anticipation and anxiety, knowing she could be stood up, but hoping she’d read him right. Several long minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door. Kat took her time to cross the room, finishing off her second drink on the way, and pulling the door open to Chris standing, both hands in his pockets, on the threshold.

“Hey you,” his crooked grin melted any nerves she had and she reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the room; she shut the door after dropping the “do not disturb” sign on the handle and turning to face him.

“Drink?” She started to move around him towards the mini bar but he used their still connected hand to pull her to him.

“Maybe after,” his boyish grin was gone and replaced with a sexy smirk; he held their hands to his chest while his other hand reached up to her shoulder, pushing a few strands of hair off her neck. His fingertips trailed along her clavicle before coming to rest at the back of her neck and leaning towards her.

He slotted his lips over Kat’s, the kiss hovering for a moment in sweetness before his tongue swiped at her bottom lip and the movement shifted. Kat stepped closer to him, allowing his tongue to swipe against hers and pushing her chest into his while his hands covered all the planes of her body, squeezing her hips and her ass, trailing gentle touches up her arms and into her hair to hold her to him and continue the needy kiss. She slid her hands up his body and tugged at his bow tie, feeling grateful for making out with Miles Sharpton at cotillion who taught her how to untie a butterfly knot. Once it fell around his neck, she slid her arms under his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. Chris let it hit the floor and stepped away from it to push Kat– one hand on her hips, the other still grasping her neck— towards the dresser.

The backs of her thighs bumped the large wooden piece and she let herself lean against it while he pressed into her, his mouth now trailing her neck and his hands grasping at the back of her dress, pawing for the zipper. Kat pushed his chest away from him, his lips pulling from hers with an audible suction noise, and she panted to catch her breath while her fingers worked their way down the buttons of his shirt. Each one she popped open exposed more of his chest, undershirt, and, to her surprise, a smattering of dark ink that made her mouth water.

She leaned forward and kissed the exposed skin, while she continued her journey down to his belt. Kat tugged his shirt free from his pants and glanced up at him through hooded eyes to find him watching her. Chris’s hands were rubbing her shoulders, raising goosebumps on her skin and sending a fire straight to her core.

Her hands hovered on his belt buckle, slowing the momentum of the last several minutes but giving neither of them pause. Chris watched her, licking his lips and trying to decide which way he wanted her to come first. “Don’t stop now, baby,” his voice had dropped dangerously low and he cupped her chin in his hand, rubbing his thumb along her bottom lip, “or I’m going to take over.”

Kat blushed deeply but held his gaze; she felt her panties dampen even more with those few words and she finished unclasping his belt, whipping it out of the loops dramatically and winking at him when he chuckled. Slowly, agonizingly slowly for Chris, she popped the button of his trousers and then slid the zipper down, holding his eyes and watching his Adam’s apple subtly bob.

Keeping her eyes glued to Chris’s, she slid her hands under the waistband of his pants, still over his boxer briefs, and rubbed slowly down his length, then back up, then back down again, reaching all the way through to briefly caress all of him before dropping her eyes to see the hard bulge that seemed to just keep growing under her hand. When Kat looked away, he took the opportunity to close his and open his jaw, letting out a low groan when she squeezed him back and forth, teasing him, knowing that he wanted her lips on his cock but she wouldn’t give it to him just yet.

She continued her work, flicking her eyes back up at him and taking in the way his chest heaved and his eyes fluttered when she stroked him in just the right away. All this response and everyone still had their clothes on…

After more minutes of this agonizingly slow tease, Chris groaned and dropped his head to press his forehead into Kat’s and growled, yanking her upright and twirling her around. “It’s my turn to tease, Kitty Kat.” The impulsive nickname made Kat’s heart skip a beat but she shoved down that feeling and leaned back into his strong chest. He held her in his arms, one wrapped around her stomach, the other reaching towards her zipper, dragging it down slowly and his hand on her stomach pulled the fabric of the gown down just enough to expose her breasts. Both of his hands slowly slithered up her body to cup them in his palms, rolling her peaked nipples between his thumb and forefingers while he kissed her neck.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded between open-mouth kisses; one of his hands dropped her breast and used it to push her hair off her neck and expose her other shoulder, licking a stripe from the nape of her neck to her earlobe and planting a kiss behind her ear. Kat’s eyes flew open, surprised to find that he’d positioned them in front of the dresser mirror where his eyes were watching her reflection.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her breasts exposed and being palmed by his large hands, Chris’s face kissing all across any exposed skin he could reach, all while never breaking eye contact. He leaned his weight into her and she felt his hard cock against her ass; she pressed her hips back into him, grinding against him and letting out a moan before closing her eyes again to enjoy all the sensations.

“Open,” he said again, his tone leaving no room for question. He pulled his lips away from hers and he stood to his full height behind her– even in her heels she was still inches shorter than him, “I want you to watch yourself.”

Kat nodded, not knowing what else to do and allowing herself to melt entirely into his embrace and his command.

His right hand left her breast and moved tantalizingly across her sternum, her stomach, and to the thigh-high slit in her dress. Chris bent forward slightly to pull the fabric up and allow him access to her lacy thong. He bunched the dress up the best he could, pushing as much fabric out of the way to expose her in the mirror and trace a finger along the top hem of her panties. His left hand still played with her breast and now, she grasped his right forearm, bracing herself against him and using her left hand to reach behind her and hold onto his hip.

Chris traced the edge of her thong again, dipping his finger under the elastic and then back out multiple times before finally sliding his hand all the way down to cup her core. He groaned into her ear as his pointer finger swiped through the wetness between her legs, “all this for me, Kitten?”

“Please,” she whimpered, bucking her hips against him in anticipation.

He hummed in agreement, nuzzling into her hair and pressing his finger into her entrance, slowly pumping in and out at a painfully slow pace. Kat dropped her head back on his shoulder, obediently keeping her eyes open to watch his hand move in the mirror. His thumb found her clit and pressed against it, moving just as slowly. She rolled her hips, trying to find more friction, more pressure, more anything, but he stilled his movements and tutted, “not yet, Kathrine.”

She whined and pushed her weight against his chest, nudging her nose against his neck and pressing messy kisses to his jaw. Her reward was a second finger pressed inside of her, slowly making a come hither motion while his thumb started to increase the pressure and pace on her clit. After more minutes of playing with her, he leaned in to kiss her lips muttering against her, “you ready, baby? You going to come now, sweetheart?” as he continued to increase the intensity and Kat’s hips moved to meet him. He pulled away from her lips, removing his hand from her breast to gently but firmly grasp her chin and turn her to face the mirror again, “watch, baby, c’mon,” he grunted, his hips now joining the fray, “c’mon, Kat, come for me, baby.”

Kat let out a strangled, semi-pornographic moan when her orgasm hit her hard, her ears ringing and her whole body shaking in Chris’s arms. He slowed his rhythm, working her over the edge and through the intensity, giving her a moment of reprieve while he kissed her shoulders, her neck, her cheek, and pulled her lips to his to give her a long, wet kiss.

“Do you have a condom,” she muttered against him, ready to feel him inside of her the moment his fingers slid out. He released her with a quick kiss, stumbling in his pants that were still undone and sagging toward his tuxedo jacket. He fished in for his wallet while Kat studied herself, still trying to catch her breath.

Chris appeared in the mirror behind her again, his hands falling to her hips and pulling the fabric of her dress up quickly. She helped him, letting the dress bunch at her hips, her breasts still exposed and now her ass as well. He stepped back from her and she watched him in the mirror.

He was palming himself in his shorts, one hand still on the curve of her hip and she arched her back slightly, giving him a more full view of her. Chris glanced up in the mirror to find her smirking; he stopped palming himself to tuck both thumbs in the waistband of her thong and drag it down her legs, helping her step out of it and tossing it somewhere in the dim room.

Still, on his knees behind her, his hands traced up her calves, the back of her knees, her thighs, as he rose to stand and smacked her ass, watching her flesh bounce. Feeling impatient, she wiggled at him, arching her back even deeper. He chuckled, “you’re ready for me, pretty girl?”

He met her eyes in the mirror and she bit her lip, nodding and watching him drop his boxer briefs. From her place in front of him, she didn’t have a good view but she listened to him snap on the condom and then mewed when he rubbed the tip of his cock through her arousal.

With one hand on her hip and the other pushing her neck to lean her closer to the dresser, he pushed into her without warning, causing Kat to cry out at the stretch. He stilled, kissed her shoulder, and waited for her to nod before he started a steady, deep rhythm, hitting the soft, spongy parts she so desperately craved. The salacious sounds of his hips meeting her ass, his grunts, and Kat’s sighs and moans filled the room quickly while he pounded into her, the pace ever increasing. Kat fumbled with her dress, trying to get to her clit. Chris moved his hand from her waist, still keeping one on her neck to hold her steady, and licked his fingers before reaching around her hips and quickly building another steady rhythm on her clit. Over and over again he thrust into her, circling her clit and groaning into her neck.

“C’mon, Kat, come for me again, let go, Kitten,” he growled while her velvet walls squeezed him tight, “I can’t hold on, come, baby,” he babbled, rocking his hips while her hips pushed back against him, chasing her release. It hit her quickly, making her legs shake and then wobble, struggling to support her weight. Chris finished with a moan drilling inside of her and draping his body over hers that was slumped against the dresser. He planted kisses on her shoulder, her neck, and then down the top of her spine before gently helping her come upright. Kat turned in his arms and slid into the dresser, letting her back lean against the mirror and lazily tugging her gown to cover her breasts just enough.

Chris snagged a few tissues from the nightstand and handed her some while he cleaned up and disposed of the condom in the trash can by the desk. He tucked himself back into his briefs and came to stand between Kat’s useless legs. He leaned forward and planted his palms on the dresser beside her legs to kiss her lazily, their tongues swiping at each other and showing no urgency.

Finally, Kat pulled back and reached up to push his hair back in place the best she could. “Your business partners will wonder where you went,” she whispered, giving him an out.

He raised an eyebrow at her, “what about that drink?”

“Next time,” she shrugged, sliding off the dresser knowing there would be no ‘next time’ and moving towards her shopping bags for the zip-up and leggings she’d bought today. Once they were in her arms, she turned back to Chris still standing there, pants around his ankles, and looking confused. “I’m going to take a shower,” she pressed up on her toes and kissed his lips once more before crossing in front of him and stepping into the large bathroom.

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