#and I'd eventually fall asleep in their arms half-sprawled on top of them

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

There’s Nothing More I’d Rather Do

(title insp) Alternatively: Me-Time

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None. 

WC: 1.1k

Mini A/N: I literally have never written for this man before. I needed to flex my writing muscles and write what I needed to read. Enjoy :)

It feels like being surrounded by feathers, soft on her skin and warm, exactly what she needed after a day like the one she’s had. The water smells of lavender and vanilla and it has assumed this watery- milk white, almost light blue color, interrupted by dark violet petals that smell of roses. Her hair is in a half-hearted, loose bun, with strands poking out left and right like prison escapees, a couple of them falling in front of her eyes and the back of her neck, getting soaked in the bath water. 

Smooth, deep jazz tangles with the air and dances softly, pushes at the candle flames and urges them to dance along. It mixes with the sloshing of her limbs moving under the water- and a knock sounds at the door.

"I'm sorry, honey, do you mind if I get my toothbrush?" A soft, crescent moon smile crosses her features. She calls for him to come in.

With a soft click, the door creases open and- there he is, socked feet and grey sweatpants in all their glory. He smiles gently at her, pushing at his hair a little. Attempting to make quick work of his task, he grabs his toothbrush, puts a little bean sized amount of toothpaste on it and- okay he can't resist- stops to kiss the top of her head, before leaving. 

"Hey," she calls to him as he's half way through the door. He stops and peaks from the side of it. "yeah?"

"You don't have to leave," she tells him, voice as smooth as the still water she's bathing in, and Chris's shoulders slack a little, his smile goes sugary sweet. Her mouth feels like she tasted honey.

"I don't wanna interrupt your me-time, baby," he tells her and shoots a smile her way, ready to leave again, but she stops him. 

"You could be a part of it?" she suggests, just as gently and Chris seems to melt a little, though reluctantly. "Please?" Hands stretch up and out of the water, fingers wiggling sneakily and she can see his resolve visibly cracking and falling away. 

"Alright," he sighs, and smiles at her victorious wiggle and broadened grin. "Just give me a second," he tells her and makes quick work of brushing his teeth, leaving the bathroom and returning a minute later with a chilled, opened bottle of white wine and two glasses in his hands. He disposes them carefully next to the tub with a playful kiss, placed firmly on her wet cheek. Her smile is worth it. 

Simple candle light illuminates his creamy skin, every dip and plain, as he slowly pulls his white tee off of his body. It's not as sculpted, since there's no Marvel movie forcing him to dehydrate himself just for a set of abs, and she likes this look on him. Healthy, soft. His sweats go first, then his socks, then his briefs, tossing the latter in the hamper, while the rest of his clothes, he balls up and places in the lid of his toilet seat so they won't stay on the floor. She opens her arms and urges him to sit between her legs, as he slowly gets in the tub, one foot at a time, lowering himself in the milky water with a relaxed sigh. 

Y/n's hands rub his arms comfortingly, wanting to say 'welcome home', her feet bumping his thighs playfully. Fingertips slowly going to his shoulders to give a brief squeeze, dropping a kiss at the nape of his neck, fingers going up, combing through his hair. His back leans on her chest, arms rested on the sides of the marble tub and head falling backwards, on her shoulder with a resounding sigh. The tension seems to seep from his body, melt and go down the clogged drain. She combs through his hair, one arm over his shoulder, hugging him into her, a kiss on his temple, her chin on his shoulder. 

"This is lovely," he notes, and he sounds exactly the way he looks, almost relaxed, soft, at ease. She smiles at the side of his head, blunt nails scratching at his scalp. 

"Never had a bath before?" she asks gently, lips never leaving his skin, words whispered right by his ear, and if she weren't this close, he wouldn't have heard her. He shakes his head. 

"Momma used to shove Scott and I in a bathtub with all our plastic little toys when we were kids." She smiles at the thought of the young brothers splish-splashing in shallow bathtub waters, making a mess, cheeks red, smiles bright and wide as can be. She drops another kiss on his cheek this time. He seems to lean into it. "But it's been decades." She huffs out a laugh. 

"You talk like you're eighty years old." 

A scoff. "I practically am," he mumbles, sinking a little lower. She smacks his chest lightly and he laughs a little. 

"The only thing you practically are is crazy, if you think that, Evans" she mumbles, buried in his shoulder. She can feel his stupid smile. She wants to kiss it. 

"Yet here you are," he replies with a teasing edge to his voice, his left hand falling on her knee. He pulls her leg over his thigh and runs his hand over it absentmindedly. A quiet show of appreciation for her being with him.

They sit like that for a while, sharing a few sips of wine and listening to jazz. Chris closes his eyes for a little bit and sighs the last of his worries down the drain. He relaxes, almost dozing off in her arms and she lets him. He's so exhausted, the poor man, and she missed him. This quiet time with him is everything they both needed. 

Eventually, they have to get out. The water is growing cold, and he's about ready to fall asleep, and as much as she loves him, he's too heavy to carry back to their room alone. "C'mon, honey," she whispers, patting him on the shoulder. He mumbles a complaint at having to move. "I know, but we should go to bed, hm?"

 He really looks like a kid at that moment, stumbling out of the bathroom, barely towel dried, with a sour face, while she blows out the candles, kills the music, throws away the wet petals and removes the plug from the drain. The wine is shelved, the glasses disposed at the sink, and she makes her way to their bedroom, completely drying herself off. She puts on some lotion just to complete the self care evening, and pulls on a shirt of his and a pair of underwear, before slinking under their covers. Chris is sprawled under them, only in his boxers, almost on his third dream by now. 

Still he feels her, and he blindly throws his arm around her, pulling her close under his chin like she's a teddy bear made for cuddling (and maybe for him she is. )

"I love you," he tells the side of her head, with a kiss sleepily dropped on her lips, lazy and tired. She smiles against them, noses bumping into each other and sharing an exhale.. 

"G'night, baby." She snuggles in his arms, breathing him in. He smells like lavender now. Her eyelids feel heavy and so does her heart, in the best possible way. "I love you too. "

Did you like it? Lemme know :) I'd love to hear from y'all.

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