Alright @stargazingfangirl18 you want some shameless hoe thots? You asked for it!
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics. Unprotected Sex. Oral Sex (female receiving). Cursing. Creampie. Knotting. Face fucking. Breeding kink.
Ok.. ok… we starting out like that!?
Let me be clear. Alpha Steve would FUCK. YOU. UP.
He’d start off sweet, making it known that he wants you to be his, but once he HAS you…
He would tease you endlessly. Start off slowly, kissing and nipping at your neck, making sure that you were thoroughly marked so even without looking for the bonding bite everyone would know that you belonged to him. In fact he would probably rip whatever clothes you were wearing to shreds so he could mark your entire body before diving in.
Lapping and sucking at your clit, switching from featherlight licks, to licking stripe after stipe from your slit up to your nub before taking it into his mouth and sucking on your bundle of nerves until you’re begging him to stop. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going until you’re bucking your pussy against his face, your juices soaking his mouth and beard. He loves it, spurning you on, encouraging you, telling you, “that’s it baby, fuck my face.”
Filling you with two of his thick fingers, twisting and scissoring you open. Doing his best to prepare you for his fat cock before he splits you open. And when he finally sinks his cock into you? The sweet stretch already a little too much for your over sensitive pussy? Good luck. You can beg, and plead, and cry all you want, but he’s going to keep you full of his knot. Painting your womb with his seed over and over, determined to fuck a baby into you on the first try.
Reaffirming that bonding bite all night long, until you are consumed with nothing but HIM. And just when you think he’s finally going to let you rest, when the exhaustion sets in and the haze of sleep is starting to take over… He’s going to wake you up and do it all over again.
And don’t even think of running. Because he’ll always find you.
I couldn’t stop thinking about this outfit that Chris wore in Newsweek, and voila! This piece was born. This was a look that needs to be celebrated! Damn he looked Good! 👀
Starring: Chris Evans x Female Reader
Summary: You just can’t help yourself once you see Chris in that outfit! You have to have control, but do you really?
Warnings: SMUT!! NSFW! 18+ ONLY! Minors DNI! Unprotected vaginal sex. Oral sex (male receiving). Light restraining. Choking. A little bit of cum play. Dominant Chris. You are responsible for the content that you consume. Heed the warnings.
As always, likes and reblogs are welcomed and encouraged! All feedback is! Please don’t copy, translate, or post my work as I do not give permission!
Dividers by the talented @firefly-graphics!
Word Count: 2151
“Chris, Chris, over here! This way!”
Chris stops short of the waiting limousine, turning and flashing his signature smile at the waiting paparazzi. He poses for a few more flashbulbs before offering a slight wave, sliding into the waiting car as the driver shuts the door behind him.
“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting sweetheart.” Running a hand through his hair, his gaze finds you casually leaning in your seat on the opposite side of the open space, having helped yourself to a glass of whiskey that the car service company had provided.
Chris was booked for the Jimmy Kimmel show in Los Angeles. You’d flown out the weekend prior to the show, staying at the house Chris had purchased years prior. You and Chris spent the weekend ordering in and taking in his backyard’s spectacular view. You and Chris had been quietly seeing each other the past few months, and Chris wanted to keep it that way for as long as he could. He relished that the relationship you were building was just yours, far from the prying eyes of his public persona.
The morning of the show his stylist IIaria came by, as did the rest of his team who helped him get ready for public appearances. You felt the heat pool within your cunt as he came around the corner. He was dressed in a blue and white striped button down tucked into black pants, brown wing tipped shoes. Finishing off the look was a blue sweater vest. He looked absolutely delicious.
“Everything alright sweetheart?” He smirks in your direction, while slipping his watch on his wrist.
“Perfectly fine.” You answer innocently, your tongue darting out to wet your lips while giving him a once over. “You look… good.”
Chris grabs you by your elbow gently, bringing you close to him. You inhale his scent as he places a chaste kiss on your lips. “I know what you’re thinking sweetheart, and we don’t have the time.”
“Oh, there’s always time,” you giggle, your eyes twinkling at him mischievously.
“The car is already here, Y/N.” Chris grabs your jacket from the hall closet by the door. “Later baby, I promise.”
You pout as Chris opens the front door for you. “It’s not fair that you look this good and I don’t get to have your cock in my mouth.” You pause as you faintly hear a low growl from behind you.
“Sweetheart, you’re going to be the death of me.”
The Kimmel show went off without a hitch. With the world finally getting back to a sense of normalcy after the pandemic, it was great to see Chris get back to doing tapings in front of an audience again. You knew that he always got nervous before he had to go on. But since he has such a great rapport with Jimmy, he quickly forgets about being in front of a live audience, and it’s like he’s talking to an old friend.
You watch from the green room, hiding out, waiting for him to finish under the guise that you are his personal assistant. When his segment is over, you make your way to the limo first, sneaking out the back and to the car. The lingering fans and photographers unaware, dutifully waiting for him to come out the stage door.
“Earth to Y/N” Chris leans forward, waving a hand in front of your face snapping you from your thoughts. “You ok?”
“I’m more than ok,” the warmth of the amber liquid was giving you courage. Reaching for the control panel next to you, you push the button for the privacy panel. Glancing over your shoulder to watch it close in place before pressing the button to lock the panel from the inside. Placing your glass into the cup holder beside you, you sink to your knees. Crawling across the floor of the car you stop as you reach Chris, sitting back on your haunches.
“You have me worked up tonight,” you whisper, pushing his legs apart, slating yourself between them. You look up at Chris through your lashes, watching as his Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat. “You in this outfit is all I’ve thought about all night.”
Chris leans in to try and kiss you, but you pull away. “Uh uh Mr. Evans.” You scold, crawling into his lap. “I’m in charge right now.” Grabbing the bottom of his vest, you pull it over his head, but not fully off, trapping his arms behind him. Pushing on his shoulders, you guide him to relax against the cushioned seats before you continue your seduction.
Your hands find their way to the sides of his face and you initiate a deep kiss, parting his lips with your tongue. Your tongues duel, each fighting for dominance. Chris moans into your mouth, as you grind your core against his hard length straining against his pants.
“Fuck,” Chris sucks in a breath as your soft lips kiss their way to his neck. Kissing and licking at the sensitive flesh, Chris gasps when you suck at his neck, before snapping briefly out of his pleasure induced haze.
“Sweetheart.” Chris says in the commanding tone that he reserves for you when you fuck. “No marks.”
Nodding as you look into his eyes, your fingers start to unbutton the row of exposed buttons down his chest. Both hands find their way under his open shirt, and you caress each bump and ridge of his abs. Slipping between his legs again, you take the time to trace the tattoos peeking over the top of his pants. Taking your time, you stroke his cock through his pants with one hand, while the other releases his belt buckle with a soft “clink.”
Sliding his zipper down and reaching into his boxers, you release Chris’ cock from the confines of his pants, pleased to find him twitching, pre-cum already leaking from the tip, a welcome side effect from your teasing. Leaning forward, you flick your tongue over his slit, relishing in his salty taste.
“Such a tease,” Chris huffs as you slowly swirl your tongue around his head and the underside of his shaft. Placing your palms on either of his thick thighs, you finally draw him into the hot pocket of your mouth. Wasting no time, you hollow out your cheeks and lower your head, taking Chris all the way into your throat and back up again, just like you had practiced with him many times before.
“Yes baby, just like that.” Chris sighs, and you hum around his girth, dragging your eyes up to watch his facial expressions as he begins to come apart. There is something so sexy knowing that it’s you and your ministrations bringing Chris to his knees, turning him into a whimpering mess above you. The sounds falling off his lips are nothing short of sinful. There is so much slick seeping from your cunt that your panties are ruined, a mess that’s sticking to your skin.
You can tell that Chris’ peak is beginning to build, and you pull off of his cock with a “pop,” smirking when you hear him groan in frustration. “Sweetheart, I was so close,” he furrows his brow, obviously annoyed at his interrupted release. “You know what they say about payback.”
“I’m not trying to get you upset..” your voice trails off as you bat your eyelashes at Chris, feigning innocence. “I’m just not done having fun with you yet.”
Standing as best you could between the low roof of the limo and the movement of the car, you peel your sticky panties off your body tossing them behind you. Bunching the skirt of your short flowy dress in one hand, you straddle Chris. Your free hand guides his cock through your folds, lubing him up with your juice.
“I want to fuck you.” You say breathlessly, each pass of his shaft through your wet folds agonizingly slow. “Do you feel how wet I am?” You whisper between moans of desire. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, the anticipation of being full building. “Do you feel how wet you make me? This is all for you, and only you.” You position the head of Chris’ cock at your entrance, sinking down a few inches before stopping. “I need you Chris, I need you to be inside me.”
Huffing out a ragged breath, he replies. “I need to be inside you too.”
That’s all the confirmation that you need as you sink down fully on him, your cunt sucking him in as your walls grip his girth. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of Chris filling you, and you pause to take it all in. Your hand drops your skirt, and you grip his shoulders harshly for leverage. You can’t hold back any longer, and you begin to move.
Planting your feet flat on either side of Chris you bounce up and down, up and down. You’re so wet you can feel your excess arousal flowing out around Chris’ shaft making a mess of his pants. The lewd squelch of your cunt sounding loud in your ears only fuels your fire. Quickening your pace you ignore the burning in your thighs as the fire in your cunt begins to spread.
You lean back, changing the angle of intrusion, the head of Chris’ cock running over your sweet spot with each pass. Your whines start to fill the cabin of the car, and you get lost in the overwhelming sensations coursing from your cunt and radiating throughout the rest of your body. It’s only a matter of minutes before your orgasm crashes over you, and you continue to fight through the burn as you chase your release.
“Fuck Chris… fuck you feel so good.” You rasp, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin. “God, I’m so close…”
The air is pierced with the sound of a sharp rip. Chris has broken free of his clothing bond. Lifting you in his arms, he’s careful to keep himself sheathed inside you as he places you on your back. With your legs thrown over his shoulders, Chris fucks you into the floor of the limo.
“Think you can be a tease?” He asks between short breaths. “Think you can take control?” Chris wraps his hand around your throat, giving it a harsh squeeze. “That’s cute.”
His powerful thrusts inside of you only solidify how much you love him being in control, how much you crave the aggressive behavior and power that he likes to hold over you. As much fun as it was having control if only for a little bit, the submissive in you knows that this is where you belong.
“I know you’re close, sweetheart.” Chris husks, his rhythm starting to sputter. “Come all over me. Let go. Let me feel you.” His voice is raspy, and it’s music to your ears.
Chris doesn’t let up, even when he feels your walls spasm around him. Your body bouncing between his and the floor. You come with a strangled cry, the hold Chris has around your throat enough to keep any real sound from escaping from you. Chris takes this moment to look down to where you are both connected, watching himself slide in and out of you as you cream all over his cock.
Chris’ breaths become thick as he pounds into you, his release imminent. As his voice rises, he pushes into you harder, until finally he stills, buried deep inside of you. Your walls are still clenching around him, milking every drop of his cum as he spills rope after rope into your cunt.
Releasing your throat, Chris collapses on top of you, your deep breaths reverberating around the enclosed space. You feel each other’s heartbeats begin to slow, until they are almost in sync with each other. Chris raises himself up on his arms, dipping down and enveloping your lips with his. Breaking the kiss and pulling out of you, he pushes the combined mess seeping out of you back inside with his thick fingers. Shrugging off the remnants of the sweater vest, he discards it on the floor before picking up your panties and stuffing them into his pants pocket.
“Since you seem to like being in control sweetheart,” he chuckles slyly. Let’s see how long you can control your muscles and hold that mess in for the rest of the drive home.”
Looking at your watch you calculate the time you left the studio to how long you’ve been in the car. Chris clears his throat and cocks his head to the side, giving you his signature smirk.
“Since we have the car until midnight sweetheart, I told the driver we were in no rush and to take the long way. We are going to do some sightseeing. It is your first time in LA after all.”
Series summary: You find out that you're pregnant. After being kicked out of your mom's house you go to live full time with your Dad who you only saw once every few months. Will he react badly to you being a mom at such a young age?
Chapter Summary: The twins first Christmas!
Series Warnings: swearing, fighting with a parent, teen pregnancy, speak of abortion.
Chapter Warnings: Teen mom? Idk
Flynn wailed loudly you looked at him from your class and quickly went and picked him up. You went back to your seat and started calming him down while you did school. You looked back at Felix who was sleeping peacefully in their crib. You held a toy above Flynn keeping him entertained for the most part.
The door opened and your dad was standing there.
"Hey I'm going to the store, I'll bring Flynn and Felix so you can do class alone." He offered. You looked down at the giggling baby.
"Yes, please. Uh, their diaper bag is-" you looked around your room which is a wreck. "You left it on the table." He smiled before gently taking Flynn from you.
"Oh yeah. I'll clean my room after class." You decided. Chris smiled before he grabbed Felix from the crib.
"It's okay peanut." He smiled. "What time do you work today?"
"Like 5." You said.
"Okay, I'll leave you to class."
Chris carried Felix in his carrier while Flynn was in a chest wrap staring at anyone who passed by. Chris placed Felix's carrier in the cart, luckily Chris didn't need a lot. With Christmas being in a week Chris wanted to get you something from your boys.
"Okay, what should you guys get your mommy?" He said to the twins. Felix spits up in response while Flynn yawned. "Great ideas." He chuckled.
He ended up finding you "spa" supplies just stuff so you could relax then he headed him. He put the bags down in the kitchen since he did get stuff to make dinner but he put your gift in his room before going to return your babies to you.
"Pea-" he stopped seeing you passed out on your bed. He quickly left the room deciding he'll just play with his grandsons until he has to wake you for work.
Christmas eve was nice you and your dad stayed home and just hung out. The twins were in a milk coma by the time it was 9 so you had time to clean your room before watching a movie with your dad. But now it's Christmas morning. Which means you're at your grandparents
"This is for the twins." Chris smiled passing you a gift bag. You had the boys resting either side of you on their boppy's
"Ooh thank you!" You opened it. "You got them Captain America merch?" You laughed looking at the black onesie that says "I'm with you till the end of the line." There was also a matching one but it was light grey.
"Of course I did."
"They're so cute." You said. "Stella this one is for you from me and the boys." You handed her the present.
This was your first Christmas since you were 9 that you've spent with your dad and his side of the family. At first, it was a part of the co-parenting agreement your parents had, you'd go visit your dad during breaks from school, except thanksgiving. But it changed to just summer and spring break.
Soon presents were opened and you were playing with your cousins and sons. Your sons were having tummy time and you guys were just sitting with them while Miles showed you his new toy. It was truly the best Christmas you've had in a while.
"Okay give me my great-grandbabies" Lisa cooed reaching for your twins. You giggled helping you pick up your sons. "So precious."
Click [100 Followers Fic] for the rest of the 100 follower fics :)
Pairing: Chris Evans x female!reader
Summary: Both you and Chris have quite the relationship, it all started the day you gave him a marker.
Word Count: 3.5k
Warning(s): Fluffffff, Angst for sure, talk of anxiety (not a lot but also a lot).
A/N: Thank you guys so much for 100 followers! It means the world, I hope you like this one as much as I do. (Sorry that's a lotta words).
⤑ Click here for my taglist so you can be notified when my new fics are posted.
Any Likes, Comments & Reblogs are super duper appreciated :))
When Chris Evans is nervous, there is only one thing that calms him down. And that one thing is you and the fact that you allow him to doodle on your hands all the time.
The premiere of Captain America: The Winter Soldier was the first time you saw Chris so nervous. Him constantly rubbing his hands together or bouncing his leg underneath the press table and the times when he'd fiddle with the hem of his shirts. These were things you noticed Chris did when he got nervous, and it seemed that you were the only one who witnessed them.
The third day into the film's press tour, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You knew what it felt like to be anxious, the feeling settling within the depths of your stomach or the constant avoidance of looking out to an audience. Sometimes you'd excuse yourself a few times throughout interviews just to catch your own breath.
The whole TCA: TWS cast sat along the stage of the comic-con panel. The hosts introduced you all, crowds cheering loudly when they saw everyone.
You took your seat next to Chris, who was already fiddling with his plastic water bottle that he'd been gripping so tightly on, you could already see the indents on the bottle. You smiled, looking out to the audience waving back to some of your fans that you could see holding signs up for you in the crowd. It was, in fact, times like these that your anxiety shot right out the window, replacing that anxiety with happiness and admiration of your fan base.
Five minutes into the panel talk and questions were directed to Scarlett and RDJ. You knew you wouldn't be talking anytime soon as, of course, like all other press tours, the interviews were heavily coordinated. So before you'd have the chance to speak, Sebastian, Anthony, and the Russo brother would go first. Sitting back in your chair, you took a sip of your water, your eyes following down to where Chris was bouncing his leg. Then, setting your water back onto the table, you pulled yourself and your chair closer to the table, reaching over across Joe Russo, who observed what you were doing.
"Could you pass me the marker, please, Joe?" you whispered to him; he smiled, nodding handing you the marker. "Thanks", you whispered again.
You returned to the comfort of your seat, Scarlett and RDJ still bantering. You look forward to the audience and give a tiny little smile to the fans who were waving at you. Your eyes looked down to your arm; you wrote a little message on your forearm, so he knew what the pen was for.
You scooted a bit closer to Chris just enough so you could hand him the pen. You lightly looked over to him; your hand went underneath the table and across to rest on Chris' lap. It was right there when his leg stopped bouncing. You held the pen in your hand, waiting for him to take it from you. Chris looked up turning his gaze to you; you gave him a smile nodding.
His eyes directed back down to where your arm was. He read the note you had written for him, 'Use my arm to doodle. It helps with anxiety :)'. He let out a smile, all the while letting out the breath he'd been holding in.
You looked back up and over to Sebastian, who was now talking; you felt the pen slip out from your grip, the marker clicked and the coldish ink embracing the surface of your skin.
One of Chris' hand rested firmly on your forearm to keep it from moving, and the other used to doodle. That was the first time in the history of you knowing Chris to be calm and content. No bouncing his leg or fidgeting. He was completely aware of everything instead of his growing anxiety.
It was after that moment Chris slowly began to fall in love. He never expected someone to notice his worries and do something about them. But, the way you sat there while he doodled on your arm didn't phase you at all, you wanted to support him, and you showed him that you did.
Years later, It became a force of habit, the tiny hugs you'd give Chris just to slide a marker into his pocket before going on stage. The small slight movements he'd make before he took your hand into his so he could draw.
You'd become someone who knew him better than he knew himself. The many dates he took you on lead to you moving in with him. The small moments you both had messing around on set and loving him in the silliest of moments meant eternity to the pair of you. You knew that you had fallen in love with Chris Evans, and so was he. You both just didn't realise that the moment would be a forever moment. If you hadn't offered him a marker that day, where would you be?
It was now the premiere of Avengers: End Game and the last press tour you'd have for a while. Today's interview consisted of a comic-con panel, the same panel you happily let Chris doodle on your arm five years ago.
You both sat together, his hand protectively on your thigh. You were speaking into the mic as a fan had just asked you a question about possibly seeing your character in the future of the MCU. Chris sat there attentive to your voice while he drew on the top of your hand. It was a little duck with a Boston Red Sox hat holding a heart.
Once you had finished answering the question and someone else began to speak, you looked back down to see what Chris was drawing. You squinted in wonder; looking back at Chris, you wondered why he was drawing this. Coincidentally, you had drawn a duck on him one day in between an interview—a duck holding a heart wearing a NASA cap. Chris looked at you with his cheesy smile. Oh! he was up to something, you thought. Chuckling, you watched him colour in the small heart with a red marker. He was, in truth, quite a good artist; you managed to take a photo of all his doodles over the years. But this one, this doodle was a bit different; it meant something more to you.
After you had both finished the panel, you were set on getting a new tattoo. Kissing Chris' lips, you told him that you'd see him at home. Chris had asked you where you were going, so you said you were going out to dinner with your mum in town, which was true you just left out the part of you going to get another tattoo. Your parents were in for the weekend for reasons unknown and wanted to see you before they left, so you had already planned to see them. He nodded, kissing you once more before departing ways.
You both were always so sentimental, and you knew as soon as you saw that duck in a red sox cap holding a heart on your hand that you wanted it to be a forever doodle. That day, when you had drawn a duck on him, he went and got it tatted on his hand the same day. The first tattoo visible on Chris' body, the only tattoo that wasn't hidden under his shirts. In contrast, most of your tattoos were on your arms and wrists; this was another tattoo among the few others you had on your hand, others being the original six symbol and some writing of your favourite quotes.
Before you knew it, you were sitting on the chair in your private tattoo artist's studio, getting the duck tattooed on you forever. The tattoo was a reminder of memories both you and him had experienced together.
The red sox hat, being where he took you on your first date five years ago. To a Red Sox game, of course. You didn't have anything to wear to represent the team, so Chris kindly offered you his Red Sox cap to wear; five years later, Chris had to purchase a new hat because you kept his one. Of course, he didn't mind; he loved to see you dressed in things that were his; the hat was one of them.
"I don't have anything to wear", you sadly pouted at Chris, looking at him in his Red Sox jersey and cap.
He looked down to you as you stood next to him, holding his hand softly, looking out to the stadium. He smiled, taking his cap off and placing it over your head.
"Now you do", he smiled, leading you down the stairs to your seats. You weren't really a fan of baseball. Still, once you had experienced your first game, oh man... it became a routine for both you and Chris to attend every game the Red Sox were playing at.
The duck, the furry little animal you had brought home a few months after you had first moved in with Chris two years ago. In all honesty, you wanted to get a turtle, but as soon as you saw that slight yellow fluff waddling around at the pet store, you wanted nothing more than to take it home with you. Chris couldn't say no to you, so the duck became your baby.
"y/n?" Chris came around the corner where you'd sat yourself talking to the little duck... Chris had been looking for you for almost fifteen minutes when he found you sitting there with the pet shop worker.
The excitement in your eyes told him that you had forgotten all about the turtle. You looked up at him smiling, patting the empty seat next to him. He sat watching you pet the small baby duck with your thumb lightly. "I'm naming him Alfie" you smiled brightly, looking back at Chris.
He took the duck out of your hands and chuckled, "Alfie, it is".
The red heart...
A reminder of how much you both loved each other. Something that had never gone away, the love both you and Chris had continued, it grew stronger over time, of course with a few hiccups here and there but never enough to break that love. But this, the tiny little heart being tattooed onto you, was one similar to the heart that homed your middle finger on a ring. The rose gold ring he gifted you when he asked you to be his girlfriend four years ago.
You rested your head on Chris' shoulder as both of you watched the office. A new series you'd been watching together, it was a few months after your first date with Chris, and you both were head over heels with each other.
"Hey y/n", he whispered.
"I'm fallin' for you darling."
You lifted your head from his shoulder, looking up at him, "You're what", you whispered softly, you heard what he said, but you just needed to hear it again.
He brought the small box out, opening it to reveal a rose gold band hearts making up the band. "I said I'm falling in love with you", he smiled before continuing ", Be my girlfriend?" he sweetly asked.
You chuckled, letting him slide the ring onto your middle finger. "Of course", you whispered back to him before cupping his face. You both looked at each other, you saw it, you saw the life you'd been wanting. It was with him.
"I love you".
Sitting at the dinner table with your parents, you briefly looked down at the now wrapped tattoo on your hand. You had thanked your tattoo artist for another fantastic job; the new ink was precisely how Chris drew it on you earlier today. Your parents were eating away and so were you.
"It's great to see you again, Hunny", your dad spoke.
You smiled, nodding. "I've missed you guys so much."
"What's on your agenda for this weekend?" you spoke again, taking a bite of your food. Your mum and dad took one look at each other before your mum stopped to talk.
"Your dad and I are going to old friends party", she smiled at you. "party", you chuckled. "Since when do you guys party".
"it's an engagement party, I mean... do you have some parties we could go to" your dad joked.
"First of all... no." you laughed, cringing at the image in your head of your parents dancing and drinking. "But that's nice. I hope you both have fun, wish whoever a congratulations for me" you smiled.
"Oh, we will", your mum outwardly said. You took a second to squint your eyes in curiosity to your mum's tone. "Mhkay".
It was the end of dinner, and you had parted ways with your parents, taking a Cab to the home you shared with Chris. "thank you, driver," you smiled, hopping out of the cab walking up to your driveway. You giggled, seeing Dodger patiently waiting for you at the front door. "Hey buddy", you smiled, opening up the door for him to jump all over you.
Closing the door behind you, kneeling down to cuddle your pup. Dodger wagged his tail giving you kisses. "Shhhhh", you chuckled lightly, "were you waiting for me, huh?" you watched Dodger roll around on the floor. You stood up, taking your shoes off, leaving your keys on the hook. "C'mon, baby", you whispered, gesturing for Dodger to follow. You both walked down the hall, Dodger by your side.
You could hear the snores coming from your room and knew Chris was already sleeping. You opened the door, looking down at Dodger "go keep my spot warm for me, please", you sweetly asked your pup, who did just that. You watched him gently jump up onto the bed and curl up on your side of the bed.
Walking further down the hall, you went to take a shower. Changing into the PJs you left on the warming rack in the bathroom, you followed back out to check on Alfie, who would be sleeping in your office. Once that was done, you head into your and Chris' room. You took off your slippers and ushered Dodger to sleep in his bed. You kissed his head before he left. "night, bubba".
You slide in next to Chris, who had his back to you. Covering yourself with the blanket, you slide one arm around his bare torso pulling yourself closer to him. He was so warm, and you loved it. Chris groaned, turning over. He smiled sleepily. "Hey hon, how was dinner?" "It was good", you kissed his lips, "That's good," he said, pulling you into his arms to cuddle.
"mhhh", he mumbled in a sleepy voice.
"I love you."
"I love you too".
The next day you were doing a panel with the marvel cast. Like any other day, you answered questions, so why did you feel this one would be different. You were a bit nervous today, like you had woken up wrong, or you were waiting for something to happen. You didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.
You were talking to your audience. It was a large panel today consisting of the MCU cast, if not all of them. Maybe that's why you were so nervous; the bigger the cast panel, the bigger audience to speak to. "Make eye contact and hand gestures y/n," you thought to yourself right before you begun to answer the fan's questions. You start to use your hands gesturing when a fan had asked you about your character's personality.
Chris smiled, watching you intently; fans noticed. But as you were gesturing, he noticed the tattoo. He had to double-take when he saw your hand, leaving a small on his face. After you finished your question, he leaned in. "I love your tattoo, babe", he whispered; his comment calmed your nerves a bit as you chuckled ", just following your lead."
You both lean back into your seats as Joe and Anthony Russo began the next half of the panel. You were already forty minutes through... only another forty to go.
Anthony spoke, "As you may know, this will be the last you'll see of your favourite actors and actresses for a while..." Joe turned to the entire panel. "So we put together a little something of your time over the last decade" Joe turns back to the audience. "So sit back and relax."
The panel turned their chairs to watch the big screen, the lights dimmed, and the video rolled. It was a decade gag-reel of everyone in the MCU; Chris had pulled your chair closer to his; he knew you were nervous, for what reason? He didn't know, and neither did you. He should've been the nervous one; he was about to do something in front of the entire audience he had been planning for months.
Your head rested on Chris' shoulder, laughing with everyone else as the embarrassing footage rolled through. There was more footage of you and Chris than anyone else, but again, you were too clouded in worry. You didn't overthink about it.
Then there it was, a clip you didn't know existed—a video of you dancing with Scarlett and Jeremy on the infinity war set. You were being videoed from afar, but Chris comes into the frame making funny faces before pointing at you. You blushed a bit, laughing lightly.
"You see her", Past Chris spoke to the camera. "One day, I am going to marry her" he wiggles his finger over to your past self, who was still dancing around like an idiot. You swear your heart stopped, so ultimately, you started bouncing your leg. The video stopped, and the lights came back on. There were hushed voices; you knew they were looking your way, but you couldn't tell why.
You turned your chair, trying to avoid whoever was looking at you. Not noticing anything, nobody was talking. You had turned your head to look down to the end of the panel where The Russo brothers were. They were all looking in your direction, including the whole cast panel. You jumped slightly when Chris caught your leg mid-bounce; you turned to look at him, his eyes dazzling before you. Oh, that smile, you knew that smile all too well. Chris was smiling like a little kid.
Chris tapped you on your thigh, which caught your attention, so you looked down. This is it; this is the same feeling you felt when he first asked you to be his girlfriend. You burst into tears after reading the message on his arm; Chris' forearm rested in your lap while holding a black marker in his hand. You sniffed, looking softly at him. He was now in tears too. Taking the black marker from his grip, you clicked it; resting your hand on his forearm to steady yourself, you answered his question.
'Will you marry me, y/n?' the question written in his bold writing stared right back at you.
You always had your answer 'of course.'
You closed the lid on the pen, and Chris opened his hand; your engagement ring sat in the nook of his palm. He slides it onto your ring finger right next to your rose-gold one. You smile blinking through the tears, you turn to him, and Chris had already stood with his arms in the air.
"SHE SAID YES"
The whole audience got up cheering; he leaned in, cupping your cheeks, both of you laughing through your kisses. He had lifted you into his arms, spinning you around. He set you back down; you wiped the tears from your face laughing while wearing your t-shirt. At that point, you knew everyone was in on your proposal; you turned to your cast members, who were all clapping.
"Give a round of applause for the future Mr and Mrs Evans!" Joe spoke.
You went around hugging everyone who had gotten up just to congratulate the pair of you. One by one, your friends embraced you in their arms.
"Congratulations", two-voice spoke from behind you, "oh my god, you idiots", you chuckled, pulling your parents into a big hug. Chris stood next to you as your dad pulled him into a hug. "Your fiancé sends her congratulations", he laughed, referencing the conversation you had with them last night.
Chris looked down at you, "They had texted me last night what you had said. I'm surprised you didn't catch on", he laughed. "I- I didn't know... I was curious after mum said it so suspiciously but didn't think," you mentally face-palmed yourself.
And like that, the panel was concluded. Everyone congratulating you and Chris before leaving. Chris had set up a little engagement party back at your house; everyone was enjoying their time having fun. You sat on Chris' lap still in shock, his arms wrapped around your waist "you didn't see that coming, did you?" he smirked, looking up at you.
"No... no, I didn't" you laughed sweetly. Your hand ran over Chris' forearm where it still had both his and your writing on it. "That was the best proposal ever" you looked at him, smiling, "I'm glad, darling" you both leaned into each other, lips connecting softly.
Summary: You were on live with your daughter is keeping you company while you wait for Chris to take her from you.
Word Count: 1k
Warning(s): fluff, you have a child 🥳, poorly written in my opinion, maybe?! (sorry in advance).
A/N: I wrote another one, similar scenario for Sebastian, so keep a look out for that one if I haven't posted it already hehe. (GIF is not mine), Hope you guys enjoy :)
⤑ Click here for my taglist, feel free to add yourself :)
Any Likes, Comments & Reblogs are super duper appreciated :))
"Awe, thank you guys so so much; I really appreciate all the love and support". Your cheeks blush a rosy red colour as you watch all the positive comments rolling through on your Instagram live.
It wasn't uncommon to be live-streaming on a Monday morning in the Evan's household. I mean… It's kinda a part of your job of being a small influencer. Today's live stream consisted of your face wash routine; you rarely wore makeup only when you needed to go to certain events with your husband. Other than that, you were all-natural. Hence the quick routine you were already halfway through.
You had your phone set up in front of the bathroom counter, chair in the middle so you could sit and do your routine from there. Now, to your surprise, not many people knew that you were Chris Evan's wife. It was a given, but occasionally you'll have the often person to who you're married to. You wouldn't hide it nor lie to them. Still, they'd get so excited when they'd hear that you were indeed the 'y/n Evans.'
You were just a regular person who loved to do all these out-going and quirky things, which captured Chris so enamoured with you seven years ago.
Finishing up on washing your face, you heard the baby monitor go off quietly on the side of you. It was your daughter who had woken up from her nap. Your daughter isn't much of a crier, but you still like to be extra careful with her on the off chance that she does. You chuckle off to the side when you watch your daughter getting off her small bed, collecting her blanket and soft teddy. You knew she was heading straight for you.
You're smiled before looking back to the live stream. "I think my little one will be joining us in a bit; maybe she'll want to say hello" you chuckle. The comments seemed to go faster than they did before.
You hadn't posted much of Chris and your daughter on social media; that was something both you and Chris wanted to keep a bit more private after she was born. Of course, obviously letting the occasional photo post of you guys heading on a trip or watching Chris on set but other than that, it was all away from the media.
"Mummy?" Your daughter smiled; you turned your chair, smiling back at her, "good morning, love" you held your arms out, to which she instantly walked into. You chuckled, brushing her messy hair from her face before picking her up onto your lap. "Morningggg", she giggles, hugging onto your waist tucking her face into your chest. "Did you wanna say hi to mums friends, love?" You looked down and whispered before placing a kiss on the top of her head. Your daughter looks up smiling, giving an innocent little wave to the camera before returning to rest her head on your chest.
"Alrighty, her dad should be here soon so we can finish this up. But until then, little Evans will be joining us" you smiled brightly. You began talking to the camera again now that you were done with your face routine.
Your daughter still on your lap, just sitting, playing with her small teddy. "Hon?" You hear Chris from the bedroom; he walked in, "Hey, love, we're in here", you softly yell out to him. Chris comes around the corner leaning on the door frame, watching you, his smile brightly paved on his face. He loved seeing you two, something he was so thankful for.
You look over to him, returning a slight grin before looking down at your daughter, "Wanna go have breakfast with Dada?" You asked her; your daughters head immediately shoots up, turning back to see her dad. "Dada!" she let out, squealing in excitement; you turn the chair to face Chris. He walks towards her as she makes grabby hands at him.
"Helloooo" He lifts your daughter off your lap, lightly throwing her in the air before catching her. She smiles at him kissing her dad's nose. It was safe to say that was their thing, and you loved it. The entire live stream witnessing the cuteness overload. He smiled, leaning down to you kissing your soft lips, which you softly returned.
"Alrighty, well, I have to go feed this little one, have a great day, guys", he waves goodbye to the camera.
"Say goodbye, bubs", Chris spoke to your daughter; she giggles, letting her little hands wave the camera goodbye. You chuckle at the moment, watching as the two walk away. Chris cradled her in his arms. The pair of them had now walked out downstairs to have their dad and daughter breakfast.
"Well, guys, that concludes my little routine for today; please leave me some requests of what you'd like to see next week Monday." You smiled, picking up your phone. "Have a wonderful day". You concluded your live stream. Memories like this that you'll never forget, another one that had made you realise how much love and cherish you had for your small family.
You'd gotten ready, making your way down the stairs to eat breakfast with your daughter and Chris. Nothing like a good family breakfast to start a Monday off.
"Hey, hon, foods on the table", Chris spoke as he finished washing up to join both you and your daughter at the table. You took a seat smiling as your daughter was smashing her pancakes into her mouth.
"Mhm... looks delicious, is it good bubby?" you turn to your daughter, who was already profusely nodding. "Great", she stuck her two thumbs up before directing her attention back to her plate of food. Chris came beside you, kissing the side of your head. "I was thinking maybe we go for an adventure today?".
You raise an eyebrow after you had taken a bite of your food, "where to?" you smiled. "Take her to the park and maybe then to Aunt Scarjo because she said that she wanted to see ya" both of you, turning to your daughter, "yes! yes! Aunt Jojo!" she did a little dance in her high chair.
Both you and Chris chuckled, "and what about us?" "Scarlett said she'd look after her for the night, so I thought maybe a bit of stargazing?" you grinned; Chris knew you so well.
summary: you attend the same college as the little brother of your childhood best friend, sue storm.
a/n: okay so you know college!frank adler? what about the same, but opposite energy? [title: "a little more" by alessia cara]
p.s. i know johnny gives off v fratty vibes but he's also like, canonically an astronaut (😍😍) and therefore pretty smart, so like, that's also where my head is at
“hey.” johnny pounds on your door, interrupting your unfocused gaze from glossing over the meaningless words in your textbook, as it had been for the past twenty minutes. “sue told me to check on you.”
scrubbing your eyes, you check your phone for the time: 9:34pm. “go away,” you snap.
he huffs. “i’ll tell her you’re alive, then.”
you scratch at the back of your scalp—a little sore from when you tied your hair up hours ago—and concentrate on the chapter in front of you.
still, you don’t hear his footsteps retreat from your room.
“you’re so fucking boring,” he laments. “you know there’s like, a life out here.”
you stare wistfully at the pages before you, using your pen to stab aggressively into the corner of your notebook. “i have an exam next week.”
johnny scoffs. “me too. but you don’t see me moping in my dorm on a friday night.”
some light from the hallway spills under your doorframe; you watch his shadow shift around. “don’t you have somewhere to be?”
on the rare occasions sue asks you to check on johnny, he's usually drinking with his buddies and flirting with girls. he's always had a lot of friends, ever since you've known him.
he sighs, his fist defeatedly smacking your door one last time. “are you gonna let me in?”
as you finally leave your desk chair, you scrunch your face, whisper-mocking him to yourself until you swing the door open.
he seems more concerned than you anticipated, his brow furrowed. “did you eat?”
he definitely sounds like sue. you shake your head.
with your room now open to the outside world, you can hear giggling down the hall. upstairs, the dull sounds of large groups of friends walking around, getting ready to go out.
“at least let me buy you something.” johnny crosses his arms, disapproving. “shove it through the gap under your door if you want, like you’re a fucking prisoner.”
your lips twitch at that. “i’ll eat later," you promise.
his arms fall to his sides, exasperated. “jesus, c’mon, sue’s on my ass about this.”
you narrow your eyes. “since when do you listen to what sue tells you to do?”
even with only the dull light coming from your room, you think you can see the blush high in his cheeks.
“ideally, if my phone blows up tonight, it’s not all calls and texts from my sister.”
“johnny storm’s got a reputation to maintain, huh.”
his eyebrows raise. “that, and—” he hesitates. “y’know, people i care about.”
that… you don’t respond to that. he’s probably talking about sue, his obligations to her. “fine.”
he smiles, briefly glancing at his feet, his voice softer now. “alright, let’s go, you fuckin’ loser.”
I’m proud to say I FINALLY finished my submission for @stargazingfangirl18 5k writing challenge! Siri! Congratulations on your milestone, you deserve it all! So, this is my first time writing Mob AU, so please be kind! I must have started, stopped, and started over again at least 100 times, or so it feels. Thanks to Siri herself for giving me encouragement when I was stuck, and also my bestie boo @wayward-blonde for really helping me out when my writers block demons were coming out to play, and for all of the encouragement to keep going and finish this! I hope you all enjoy it!
The prompts I used:
You catch the eye of someone dangerous
“Look at you, stretched out and trembling”
Starring: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Summary: You are Steve’s, and it would be in your best interest to remember that.
Warnings: This fic is for 18+ ONLY, just like my blog! SMUT! NSFW! Dub-Con. Unprotected sex. Vaginal Sex. Vaginal fingering. Oral sex (female receiving). Overstimulation. Female ejaculation. Creampie. Mentions of violence. Actual violence (a little). Mentions of blood. Read at your own risk!
Word Count: 4421 (my longest fic so far!)
Dividers by the amazing @firefly-graphics!!
It’s been two months.
Two months since you came to live with Steve. “Well, let’s be honest,” you thought to yourself as you quietly snuck down the long hallway. You didn’t really have a choice.
Two months since you stopped by your parents house and found them in the middle of a shakedown. Steve and his men were ransacking the entire house looking for money that your father swore wasn’t there. “I just need more time Mr. Rogers, you’ll get your money.” He begged, falling to his knees.
The tone shifted when the mafia boss locked eyes with you. You could have sworn you saw his hard persona soften, which is when a new proposal came to light. Agree to be with Steve, and your father’s debt would disappear. The alternative… was too terrifying to think about.
What were you supposed to do? Your family meant the world to you. If anything happened to them you would be devastated. Your father may have had his gambling demons, but he always made sure that you and your mother were taken care of.
So there, standing in the living room of the house you grew up in, despite protests from your father, you shook hands with Steve Rogers. Immediately you were whisked away, led to one of Steve’s sleek black SUV’s flanked by two of his men while he followed closely behind. Sliding into the leather seat next to you, he takes notice of your body language. Arms crossed in front of you, eyes staring intently out the window focusing on nothing but everything at once that wasn’t Steve. You flinch as he gently places a hand on your knee.
“I promise to take care of you,” his voice is stern but soft. “We’re going to be a family now.”
Huffing out a laugh you reach out quickly, pushing Steve’s hand off your knee. “We will never be anything but this arrangement.” You spit in his direction, narrowing your eyes as he chuckles while stroking his beard slowly.
“I like your fire.” He smirks, leaning into you. “It’s going to be fun taming your brat.”
You’d be lying to yourself if you said that part of you didn’t enjoy the lifestyle that was thrust upon you by being with Steve. You still remember the awe you felt the first night in his penthouse. Opening the drapes in an expansive bedroom, you were treated to a breathtaking view of New York City. You felt his presence behind you, and you look over your shoulder at him.
“If you need anything from me, my bedroom is right across the hall. Feel free to look around. This is your home now.”
Facing him you raise your brows in question. “Your room? I thought…” your words stop short as Steve raises his hand to silence you.
“I’m a tough man sweetheart, but I’m not a monster. I’m not going to force myself on you. I’m a pretty patient man. I can wait.”
You scoff, turning back to the twinkling lights of New York. “Then be prepared to be waiting for a long time.”
“Whatever you say sweetheart.” Steve turns to leave you alone with your thoughts. “Goodnight.”
True to his word, Steve made sure that you were taken care of. He made sure all of the items you wanted to keep were cleaned out of your apartment and brought to the penthouse. He bought you a whole new wardrobe that he had a personal shopper help you pick out. There were dinners at the finest restaurants. Shows on Broadway. He even took you on a helicopter tour so you could see New York from the sky. Steve pulled out all of the stops for you. “His girl.” As his team would call you.
The more time that you and Steve spent together, the more you got to see the man behind the persona. You may have let your eyes linger a bit too long on the handsome features of his face, or tried to hide your eyes from his beautiful physique when you passed each other in the hall when he was still shirtless coming from the gym. There may have been a few times where you thought he was going to kiss you goodnight. The both of you stared at each other as he leaned in close to you, only to whisper “goodnight,” in your ear as he reached behind you to open the door to your room. In any normal circumstance you may have let this man run away with your heart. But you kept reminding yourself that this was an arrangement. No matter how well Steve treated you, you would always just be a form of payment in place of the cash your father failed to pay back.
There was nothing that Steve wouldn’t or couldn’t do for you. He kept his promises. Your father’s debt was never spoken about again. You still slept in the bedroom across from him, and he never pushed for more. However, you still felt trapped. Even though you had everything that your heart desired, you missed your independent life. You couldn’t just pick up and go anywhere when you pleased. You always had to ask Steve. Even if you were allowed to go, you always had to take one or two of Steve’s men with you. “It’s for your protection sweetheart,” Steve would tell you as he brushed strands of hair away from your face. “You’re my girl, and there are plenty of people out there that would do something to you in order to get to me.”
Which is how you found yourself sneaking down the dark hallway of the penthouse. You had asked Steve earlier if you could meet your best friend for drinks. It had been such a long time since you had seen her, and all you wanted was one night of semi normalcy.
“ No sweetheart,” Steve had told you when you knocked on his bedroom door as he was getting ready for a business dinner. “ I have an important meeting tonight, and I need all hands on deck, and a few to stay home and watch the apartment. I have no one to watch you.”
“Steve, I don’t need to be watched. I’m an adult.” You sit on the edge of his bed as he slips on his suit jacket. Adjusting his tie in the mirror, he finds your pleading eyes in the reflection.
“The answer is no sweetheart,” he says, meeting you in the middle of his bedroom as you pop up scowling at him. “I have no one to make sure you’re safe tonight.”
“I’m not a prisoner Steve!” You shout, placing your hands on his chest and pushing him away from you when he tries to envelop you in a hug. “You can’t just keep me here!”
“I’m not keeping you prisoner here sweetheart, you know that you can go anywhere you want, but only with protection.” Running his hands through his hair, he extends his hand to you. “You can come with me tonight sweetheart. You can have a few drinks tonight at the bar while I conduct business, then I can take you to dinner.”
Rolling your eyes, you practically stomp to his bedroom door. “ I don’t want to go to dinner with you Steve, I want to see my friend.”
“NO.” Steve’s response was more of a command this time. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
“I fucking hate you!” You scream back at him slamming the door behind you. Kicking the door to your bedroom shut, you flop yourself on your bed, the loud grumble muffled as you bury your face into a pillow. Sitting up you grab your phone off your nightstand, scrolling through your contacts until you find your best friend Jennifer’s number. Pressing the message icon next to her name, you only pause momentarily before quickly typing out your message.
“Meet me around the corner of my building in an hour. Fuck it, we’re going out!”
The liquor burns your throat as you and Jennifer throw back your second round of shots. You both plunk down your empty shot glasses at the same time, laughing as you do so.
“I can’t believe you had to sneak out!” Jennifer exclaims over the music of the bar, reaching out to squeeze your arm. “Who does he think he is, your dad?”
You sigh, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know Jennifer. Our relationship is… complicated.” You giggle to yourself. Complicated was an understatement.
“I didn’t even know that you were dating anyone, let alone Steve Rogers! And now you’re living with him!” Jennifer slaps her hand against the bar. “Another round please!” She squeals. “We’re celebrating!”
Jennifer’s enthusiasm is contagious, and you can’t help but become wrapped up in her energy. “What exactly are we celebrating?”
“You landing yourself a hot piece of ass!” Jennifer’s voice comes to a crescendo as two fresh shots are presented to you. “And for the first girls night in a while!” She holds out her shot glass so you two can clink. “Cheers!”
Your body is buzzing, the third shot going straight to your head. Grabbing Jennifer’s hands in yours you pull her off her bar stool and guide her to the dance floor. You quickly find the beat swaying your hips back and forth in time to the music. You needed tonight, one night of freedom that you had been craving since you moved in with Steve.
“If he could see me now,” you thought to yourself as you twirled Jennifer around. He didn’t even know you were gone. You pretended to be asleep, hearing him check on you before he left the house. Waiting about fifteen minutes before popping out of bed and getting dressed, throwing on one of your black mini dresses, and fixing your hair and makeup. Grabbing a pair of matching black heels, you snuck out of your room, closing the door quietly.
Shoes in hand, you tiptoed down the dark hallway staying in the shadows. Knowing the routine of Steve’s security, you know that you only had a few minutes while they did a sweep of the penthouse. Nixing the front door entirely, you hurry to the service entrance that Steve had put in during a remodel, built so it was easier for staff to come and go during catered parties. You push the door open slowly, your heart pounding in your ears. You slip through the door in a space barely big enough for your body, and guide the door back into the lock until you hear the mechanism click into place.
Scurrying to the elevator, you can taste freedom as you hit the elevator button. Doing a little “hurry up” dance, the doors barely open and you jump inside, pressing the button for the lobby floor. Once you hit the ground floor, you make a sharp right opting not to use the lobby’s revolving door but slipping out the side door. Waiting for you was Jennifer, and you balance with her help to slip your heels on. “Let’s go!” You laugh, as you make your way down the street to the subway.
Back at the penthouse, Steve’s head of security Bucky sighs as he pulls out his phone. Dialing Steve’s number, it only takes half a ring before the mafioso picks up. “Sorry to disturb you boss, but we got a problem.”
You’re feeling good, lost in the music when you feel a pair of strong hands grab your hips. They sway with you, and a masculine body presses up against you keeping with your tempo.
“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing.” A low voice resounds in your ear. “I’m glad I decided to come out tonight.”
Spinning, you’re met with a pair of blue eyes, and a confident smirk. He’s tall, and not unattractive, but there is something about him that just doesn’t sit right with you.
“I’m John, John Walker.” He leans in so you can hear him. “I saw you out here on the dance floor, and you looked like you were having such a great time I just had to join in the fun.”
You back up putting space between you and John. “Well thanks for joining us, but this is a special girls night out.” You motion to Jennifer beside you. “No boys allowed.”
“I didn’t catch your name,” John takes a step forward, invading your space again.
“That’s because I didn’t give it to you!” You shout over the music. “Have a good night!” You turn to head back to the bar when John grabs your wrist pulling you back into his chest.
“Well at least finish dancing with me,” he says roughly. Quickly his hands find your ass and he squeezes, grinding his pelvis into you.
“Don’t’ Touch me!” You push back against his chest, your free hand coming up to slap John across his face. “I said No, let me GO!”
The next few seconds pass in a blur. You remember Jennifer pulling you back as John lunges forward before two men in black suits block him from view. The men grab either arm as a third man steps in between you and punches John in the face. You’ll never forget the sickening crack of his nose breaking, nor the blood that poured from him like a fountain.
The man who inflicted the pain whipped around to face you. You gasp as recognition settles over you.
“Not another word Y/N.” The look in Steve’s eyes was one you had never seen directed at you before, and uneasiness settles into the pit of your stomach.
“Get him to my car, I’ll meet you there.” Steve barks at the two men holding up John. Looking past you, Steve then directs his best friend. “Bucky, make sure Y/N’s friend gets home, and then make sure that you put Y/N in her room and lock the door. I’ll deal with her later.”
“Sure boss,” Bucky grabs you and Jennifer each by the arm and steers you through the crowd and out of the bar. Stepping into the waiting car by the curb, you sit in silence as the three of you settle in for the ride.
“How did you know where we were?” Jennifer finally breaks the tension lingering in the air.
“Well for one,” Bucky starts, nodding in your direction. “Next time she wants to be sneaky she should remember that we have cameras throughout the house. She’s good, but not that good. And two, next time she should pick a bar that Steve doesn’t own.”
You sat on your windowsill, watching the remaining cars drive down the city streets. You had been home for awhile, showered and changed into a tank top and shorts, waiting for whatever wrath Steve was going to bring upon you. At first you were worried, you don’t think you had ever seen Steve that upset with you. The longer you sat there waiting for him, the more angry you became. “Who does he think he is?” You said aloud to no one. “ Whatever he has to say, I’m going to say what I have too to”
It wasn’t much longer until you heard commotion coming down the hallway. Steve’s voice reverberated gruffly in the hall, dismissing whoever was stationed at your bedroom door. You stood as you heard the door unlock, before Steve came through slamming it shut behind him.
He wouldn’t look at you for a moment, pacing across the room, gathering his thoughts. He looked disheveled, not his normal put together self. His jacket was torn, His perfectly coiffed hair now falling into his face. His crisp white shirt was untucked, and was stained with red. Was that blood?
The silence was excruciating. So you decided to say something.
“You should have just let me go, I know how to handle myself.”
Steve’s head whipped in your direction so fast you’re surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. Crossing the distance of the room in two strides he was upon you.
“If you just listened to me, none of this would have happened.”
“Nothing happened Steve, just some jerk at a club. They’re everywhere.”
“This is different. You’re MINE now.” Steve grits through his teeth. “Do you know how it felt watching another man touch what belongs to me?”
“Steve, I’m not yours,” you sigh, looking up into his eyes. “This is an arrangement…”
Your words are swallowed as Steve smashes his lips to yours, the fingers of his right hand gripping the sides of your chin preventing you from getting away. His tongue pries your lips apart, exploring the inside of your mouth. He pulls back breathless, while you stand before him, wide eyed and in shock.
“I know that I’ve told you I’m a patient man, but my patience has run out.” Steve nudges you backward, the backs of your knees hitting the edge of your bed. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. I don’t know why you continue to deny yourself.”
You move away from Steve, scrambling back across the mattress banging your back against the headboard. Steve follows you, his knees dipping into the mattress as he crawls to you, like a predator cornering their prey. Your last ditch effort was to kick your legs and roll off the bed. Maybe you could get to your feet quick enough, but it was all for naught.
Steve’s large hand wraps around your ankle and slides you down the bed to him. Hovering above you, he lightly strokes his fingers down your cheek, a sharp contrast from the dark look he has behind his eyes.
“I plan on ruining you tonight.” Steve’s tone is dark, but tainted with lust. “ Make it so you only want me, only crave me.”
“Steve please, I can’t.” You whisper, breathing in sharply as you feel his fingertips graze over your skin, marking a trail down your neck to the top of your breasts.
“Can’t or won’t?” Steve’s lips find your neck, following the same path as his fingers. He pulls at the scoop of your tank top, your breasts spilling over. His hands immediately gravitate to your mounds, kneading them in each hand before his head dips and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Sucking on the stiff bud, he clamps down with his teeth, nibbling and pulling on the hardened peak.
“Steve!” Your cry pierces the air as your back arches off the bed. Your eyes flutter shut as unexpected pleasure courses through you.
“I’ve given you everything,” Steve backs off of you, his hands seeking out the waistband of your shorts. With one fast pull your shorts and panties are yanked off of your body. “You know I would do anything for you.” He pauses, grabbing portions of your tank top in each hand ripping the flimsy material in half. Touching his nose to yours he draws in a deep breath before he speaks. “I’d even kill for you.”
Your eyes snap open and you search his expression, scared of the answer you might receive from your next question. You remember the stains dotting Steve’s shirt. “Steve, is that what you did? Did you kill him?”
“Enough shop talk sweetheart,” Steve licks his lips, looking as though he wants to devour you. “Let me take care of you.”
Steve shrugs off his coat, tossing it to the floor behind him. Your eyes are glued to him as he peels off his shirt and tie, adding to the discarded clothing piled on the floor.
Steve grasps both of your wrists in one hand, placing them on the mattress above your head. “Don’t move your hands from this position, do you understand?” You whimper as you nod your head, a wayward tear falling from the corner of your eye. Running his hands along your thighs, he pushes your legs wide apart. He wastes no time, running his fingers up and down your slit. The direct touch to your core sends a shudder throughout your body.
“Look at you, stretched out and trembling,” Steve hums as he smooths his hands over your inner thighs. “I can’t wait to have you begging for me to let you come all over my cock.”
Steve repositions himself, slating his face above your pulsing cunt. His large palms holding your legs open. You hear him take a deep breath, relishing in your scent. “You smell amazing sweetheart, and I bet you taste just as good.”
With that, Steve lowers his face to your pussy, licking stripes from your hole up to your clit. Steve hums as he takes your clit into his mouth, the vibrations sending your body into overdrive. You feel your slick seep from your folds, soaking Steve’s beard.
“Mmmm sweetheart, I love how you’re making a mess of my face.” Steve says before diving back into your cunt like a man starved. The sound of the wetness of his tongue mixing with your arousal was too much. Soft moans pass from your lips and you start to buck your hips, grinding your pussy into Steve’s mouth.
“That’s it sweetheart, fuck my face, take what you need.” Steve’s hands move from your thighs to your hips, hanging on as you chase your release.
“Fuck…” you huff as the fire builds from deep within you. It’s been a long time since someone else besides your own hand has made you feel this way. “Steve… Steve.. I’m going to…” stars flash behind your eyes as you feel Steve suck your clit harshly. You careen over the edge, tumbling into wave after wave of pleasure.
Just as you’re coming down from your high, Steve pushes two of his thick fingers into your tight channel. Immediately his fingers seek out your sweet spot, curling against the soft spongy area.
“I want another one.” Steve commands before taking his free hand and holding your pussy lips open exposing your clit. He flicks his tongue quickly over your hardened nub, his fingers pumping furiously in and out of your dripping center.
“Oh God!” You writhe under Steve’s hand completely coming apart. Sweat glistens off your body, and you lift your head, watching Steve as your chest rises and falls, your lungs begging for you to catch your breath. His fingers were still buried in your pussy. He had no intention of stopping.
“Another.” He growls, moving his fingers from side to side against your g spot.
The sensations were too much, your cunt sensitive from the two orgasms that Steve had pulled from you. There was no way you could come again. “Steve stop, I can’t.” You cry, wriggling, trying in vain to pull yourself from his grasp.
Pressing his palm into your lower abdomen, Steve holds you in place, the pace of his fingers unrelenting. “You can, and you will.” He pushes a little more on your belly, feeling his fingers that are buried deep inside of you. “Come right now.”
And you do. Your face contorting into a silent “O.” Steve pulls his fingers from you, spanking your overworked cunt. To your complete surprise you squirt, drenching his beard and the sheets below you. Steve sucks up your wetness from your folds, swallowing it down. “What a good girl.”
He stands then, removing his pants and boxers. His cock stands at attention proudly, and he gives himself a few pumps for good measure. Leaning over you, he bends and once again captures your lips with his, your tongues dueling with each other, your tasting the remnants of your essence in his mouth.
“On your knees sweetheart, present yourself to me.” You slowly comply, turning over onto your stomach. Raising yourself onto your knees, Steve pushes his leg between your legs spreading them open farther. Wrapping his body over yours, he wraps his strong arm around your neck, tilting your head up so he can whisper in the shell of your ear.
“I’m going to fuck you now.”
You feel your cunt clench, and your heart is pounding out of your chest. You wanted him to fuck you badly, but your couldn’t deny the twinge of fear that you felt. You feel Steve behind you, the head of his cock sliding between your folds, getting slick with your juices. Before you can even prepare, Steve rams himself fully into you, and you arch your back in surprise. You struggle a bit in his grasp, but he is simply too strong.
You are his, and he will do what he pleases to you.
Steve’s pace is backbreaking, and your body bounces roughly with each thrust. Trapped against his torso and his arm you have nowhere to go, the only thing you can do is surrender. Surrender to the pleasure that is once again building slowly from deep within your cunt.
“Say it.” Steve grunts against your ear. “Say you’re mine.” His free hand moves around your body, seeking out your clit. “Say it,” he commands once again as he shifts his hips, his cock sliding against all of the right spots within your walls.
“I- I’m yours Steve.” You stammer breathlessly, your body molding into his as he continues to control your body. “Please.. please…”
“Please what sweetheart? Tell me.”
“Please make me come.”
“As you wish,” Steve huffs. Unwrapping his arm from around your neck, he pressed his hand against the side of your head, guiding you to place it against the bed. Lifting one leg to the bed to give himself leverage, His strokes deepen, and you can feel the head of his cock grazing your cervix.
“I’m close, sweetheart. I want you to come with me, wanna feel you milk my cock.” Steve’s rhythm starts to sputter, before one final deep intrusion Steve fills your cunt with a deep grunt. This triggers your own final release, and your walls spasm around his girth, welcoming his seed deep within your womb. Your body gives out then, and you collapse to the bed bringing Steve with you. Both of you laying in silence, the only sound heard was ragged breathing.
Steve wraps his arms around you, bringing you to his chest. “I told you you’re mine sweetheart. I knew it from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’ll always take care of you.”
Exhaustion is beginning to take hold, that is until you hear the last of Steve’s words before he drifts off to sleep.
“But I can’t promise that I’ll be as understanding if you disobey me again.”
Could you do Prompt #18 where the reader goes down on Chris(or one of his characters) and he’s super needy and desperate?
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Word count: 800+ words
Summary: 18. "Please don't stop."
Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of oral (f receiving), kinda cock worship????, subby!Chris, dirty talk, 18+ only
A/N: I love requests that give me subby!Chris vibes! Hope you all enjoy this little drabble
His plea for more sends warmth running straight to your core as you moan against the soft skin of his inner thigh. You loved seeing him underneath you, begging for more, and you weren't ready to give him what he wanted just yet.
"What do you want, baby?" you ask with a smirk, your lips getting closer to the juncture where his thigh meets his crotch. It's not enough for him, it could never be, and you know that by the way he grinds his hips into the air desperately, the need to feel your mouth on his cock growing more intense with every passing second.
"I-I need, oh god!" he moans as you fan your breath out against his rock-hard member, making it almost impossible for him to form a full sentence as you look to him with expectant eyes, "Need your mouth, please."
You hum in content with his begging, leaning up to press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock, precum gathering on your lips as he moans loudly at the action, "That feel good?" you ask, enjoying the way that you had rendered him a needy, fucked-out mess with only a few small touches.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he moans out, watching as you grasp his cock in your hand, very slowly pumping him as your tongue teases his head, "Feels so fucking good."
You suck his tip between your lips in response to his praise, humming around him and watching as the vibrations through his cock send him closer to delirium. It's like all that Chris can feel or see or hear is you. The way your mouth fits snugly around him as you pump what you can't swallow with your hand. The way your eyes look up at him with glistening joy as you watch him fall apart beneath you. The sounds of you moaning around him as you taste him on your tongue. He's surrounded by your presence entirely, and it's intoxicating.
You pull off his cock to take in a greedy breath, chuckling when he whines at the loss of contact.
"Oh, baby, do you need me to make you cum?" he nods furiously at your question, and you're not sure if you even see tears glistening in his eyes as he looks down at you, "Use your words, baby."
"Please, need to cum," he gasps as you swirl your thumb around his tip, his cock twitching in your hand. He's close, so fucking close and all he needs is your gorgeous mouth on his cock to send him tumbling over the edge. You don't tease for much longer, taking him back into your mouth and taking as much of him as you can into your throat, "Don't stop, oh fuck! Please don't stop."
You hum around him as you bob your head, doubling your efforts to get him over the edge into pure bliss. You can feel the way his thighs are trembling beneath your touch, the way that his cock is quivering in your mouth, dribbles of his precum falling on your tongue every time you sink down onto him.
You can tell that he's right on the brink, and when you reach out with one hand to fondle his balls, he's a goner. With a loud whimper that turns into a groan, he spills into your throat, his hips moving of their own accord as his orgasm takes over. You swallow every drop he gives you, allowing him to use your mouth to prolong his release for as long as possible before he stops moving from oversensitivity and you slowly let him slip out of your mouth.
He looks like a total wreck as you take in the sight of him, eyes clenched shut tight, mouth hung open in a silent scream of pleasure, chest heaving and body slicken with sweat as he comes down from pure euphoria. You pepper kisses all along his chest and jawline until he calms down enough to open his eyes and it's then that you pull him into a kiss.
The kiss is soft and sweet, and Chris groans against you when he tastes himself on your tongue.
"Baby girl, that mouth of yours is gonna be the death of me." he pants out with a chuckle, making you giggle as you press a soft kiss to his lips.
"You know you love it." you reply with a cheeky giggle, gasping as he rolls the two of you over so you're now pressed against the mattress with Chris hovering over you, "What're you doing?"
"Giving my little minx exactly what she deserves." he teases, kissing his way down your tummy before pressing a kiss to your mound over the damp fabric of your panties, smirking as you gasp at the contact, "I'm gonna eat this pretty little pussy until you can't remember your own name."
Series summary: You find out that you're pregnant. After being kicked out of your mom's house you go to live full time with your Dad who you only saw once every few months. Will he react badly to you being a mom at such a young age?
Chapter Summary: It's been a month! And it's Thanksgiving!
Series Warnings: swearing, fighting with a parent, teen pregnancy, speak of abortion.
Chapter Warnings: Teen mom? Idk
You were exhausted, it's November super close to Thanksgiving. The twins are a month old yesterday and your Thanksgiving break just started which helped a bit but you didn't have off work until Thanksgiving which is in two days luckily.
"Mommy's coming." You mumbled rolling out of bed with a yawn going to the crib. You picked Flynn up rocking him lightly before checking his diaper. "Okay I'm getting you." You quickly took him to his changing table and changed his diaper before checking on Felix who was luckily still asleep though not for long since he'll be hungry soon.
You carried Flynn with you to the kitchen and began to prepare his bottle. You chose to bottle feed them after getting advice from your doctor about it. Finally, you were able to get back in bed him resting on your chest as you fed him. He'd fall asleep after this and sleep until about 7 while he brother usually wakes up around 5.
Once Flynn was sleeping Felix was awake and wailing. You repeated your steps, minus change his diaper since he didn't need it then you went back to bed yourself.
Chris quietly went into your room when he heard Felix crying. He'd been awake because he went on a morning run and since he's up he decided to help you out a bit.
"Hey Chunko." Chris whispered lifting the baby. He quietly changed the baby's diaper then brought his with him out. He loved being a grandpa. Especially a grandpa to two at once. He hasn't really thought about what the boys will call him though, probably something simple like Grandpa or gramps. He has thought about just letting the boys pick what they'll call him and he's leaned more towards that. "Okay you sit right there while I make you a bottle." He sat the baby down in his bouncer.
The young baby stared at his grandfather before sneezing.
"Oh bless you." He cooed before quickly going to warm his bottle up. "And here you are your greatness." He laughed picking the baby up, feeding him. "Yeah you gotta get big and strong so you can play football."
He was proud to say that he got his grandson's patriots' onesies. Obviously, he had to make sure his grandbabies are fans of what in his opinion is the greatest football team.
"Yeah." He cooed. Soon Felix was fast asleep in the swing, dodger was laying right next to it. They had a cute bond. Dodger was very good with the babies luckily and loved them. Chris God Flynn when he woke up and repeated his actions. Chris rested on the couch while Flynn slept in his arms and he watched tv. He would look over at Felix every few minutes. You didn't wake up until ten, and you are thank full for your dad.
You smiled as you put the hat on Flynn. It was Thanksgiving morning, you and your dad were going to head to your grandparents' house but you were getting the babies ready first. It was around 7. It was a small tradition to always watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. You dressed the boys up in matching outfits except their hats were different. So they both were wearing a onesie that said
"Okay let's go." You put him in his carrier and then picked up Felix's as well and walked out to the living room where Chris was with Dodger getting him ready to bring with. "Hey dad keep an eye on them for a second I have to grab their diaper bag."
"Sure." He smiled clipping Dodger's leash on him. You hurried to your room grabbing your diaper bag and shoving two extra outfits in it and made your way back to your dad.
The drive was quick and you made it to your grandma's house. You walked in carrying their carriers while Chris had your bag and Dodger.
"Y/n! Can I hold one of them while we watch the parade?" Miles asked you smiling before looking down at your babies.
"And I want to hold the other one!" Stella said coming up next to her brother also looking at the twins.
"Maybe later I have to feed them first." You said setting the car seats down.
"Can I help you feed them?" Ethan asked you smiling.
"Sure sit down let me warm their bottles up." You said as you picked up Felix and handed him to your cousin before you picked Flynn up. You then dug through the bag grabbing their bottles which were already made then heading to the kitchen. "Hi nana." You smiled.
"Hello sweetheart! And little man." She cooed at the baby before giving you a hug. "Where's his brother?"
"Ethan is holding him I just have to heat their bottles up." You explained.
"Ah go ahead."
Soon you and your cousins were sat on the couch watching the parade as you fed Flynn. This first month was anything but smooth sailing but spending time with your family assured you that all would end okay.
A/n: first of all this is the outfit I was thinking: and then Flynn had a Grey hat while Felix had a Brown hat.
Summary: Chris has worked for many artists. All, counting on him to keep them safe. Why don't you?
Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), choking, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), mentions of an alleged stalker, reader being a bit stubborn, slight angst (???), cockwarming at the end. This is a RPF AU so, don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable with that. I think that's it.
A/N: Damn, I got a little carried away. Sorry. This is the longest shit I've written so far so, I hope it's not as boring as I think it might be. Anyway, I had so much fun writing it for @buckyownsmylife 's 1st anniversary challenge! Why am I always writing for you? I don't understand, but I like it 😆. Also, yes, I posted this on Chris' birthday, I'm that kinda person. As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes en español*
Wheel results (just attaching evidence):
“'MARVEL'S AVENGERS' STAR, Y/N Y/L/N IS ATTACKED BY A CRAZY FAN AFTER LEAVING A RESTAURANT!”
“DISCONCERTING VIDEO OF A MAN PUNCHING HIS FAVORITE ACTRESS AFTER HARASSING HER. CLICK THE LINK BELOW.”
“EMMY NOMINEE, Y/N Y/L/N, SUFFERS MINOR INJURIES WHILE TRYING TO GET AWAY FROM AN AGGRESSOR.”
All captions said the same. The press, as always taking advantage of the misfortune of others to create gossip and gain followers and reads on their sites.
You shut the laptop and took your face in your hand.
It all started the day before, when you were waiting for a cab outside an overly expensive Thai place, after having a meeting with one of the most acclaimed thriller film directors to discuss a role he was offering you for his next project.
With the deal made and dessert finished, Mark, your manager, offered to take you home, but you declined his offer, telling him that you had to run some errands before. He left with the promise of calling you during the week.
The ringtone you set for your best friend sounded loudly in your back pocket. Answering her call, you covered your eyes from the sunlight.
“Hey, babe. How's it going?”
“I should be the one asking that, but given your apparent good mood, I think things went as planned.”
Raising your arm, you called for a taxi, but the driver ignored you. “It went better than planned! Not only did I get a role in the movie. I got the role in the movie. So, you better greet and bow to the new Mistress of the Underworld next time you see me!” Your voice went from arrogant to excited as you spoke, letting her know that you were joking.
“That's awesome, dude!” your friend exclaimed. “Damn, there'll be no way to get you out of your throne now.”
You fake laughed and asked, “Do I really have to get the drinks? I mean, it's me who we are celebrating.”
“Hey, your achievement, your liquor.”
“Hi. Are you Y/N/N?,” A guy you vaguely remembered having seen some times behind the security bars of different events shyly approached you. “Yes, you are! I love your movies. Can I… can we take… is it okay if…?” Phone in hand, he tried asking.
“Hold on a second, girl. I’m taking a photo with…” you didn't finish the sentence, waiting for the man to complete it.
“Oh uhm, Bern.”
“With Bern. I’ll be right back.”
“Do it fast, we gotta toast because you’re paying the bills again.”
“Shut up.” You giggled and then turned your attention to the red headed in front of you.
He was taller than you by a few inches. His green eyes, small, and his nose and cheekbones covered with hundreds of freckles. He seemed nice.
“So, how would you like the photo?” you asked as you fixed your perfectly combed hair. “Do you want us to pose or just a simple selfie?”
“A selfie is fine.” he stood beside you, close enough for both your faces to fit on the broken screen of his phone.
Raising your hand, you made a peace sign and gave your biggest smile to the camera. He clicked the button and it was done.
“Well, it was so nice seeing you, Bern but, I better get going. People are waiting for me.” You waved at him and turned to start walking, but he stopped you by taking your wrist.
“Can we repeat it? I don’t like how I look.” His insisting eyes, trying to convince you.
“Sure, why not?” Your friend was still on the line and you told her to wait for a little longer.
You got in position and showed your teeth once more, but your smile faltered when you felt his cold fingers touching your lower back from under your top.
"That hand.” You warned in a playful voice.
His touch disappeared, but the feeling was still there.
Once the photo was taken, you stepped away and shakingly said your goodbyes, in hopes of getting away from him as quickly as possible.
“No, wait! Let’s take another one!” His hand gripped your waist. “Just one more.”
“I'm gonna be late. My friends are--.”
He dragged you closer to him and you stepped on his feet accidentally, but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes, big and sparkling.
“The lighting is not good.” He looked around. “Let’s go somewhere else to make it perfect.”
Fear ran down your body, the closeness of his face to yours, disturbing you to the point of wanting to start running.
“Please, let go of me.” Calm flew from your mouth, even though you were feeling the opposite.
“Not until we take another photo!” His tone was contundent, nothing like the one he used while asking for the first one.
“You’re hurting me!” A few people were passing by, only turning to see if you were really that actress they had seen somewhere, none of them knowing what was going on.
“You really want to leave me?” You pulled, intending to shake him off. “Then, leave.”
Instead of just freeing you, he shoved your arm. The unexpected force, bringing you to the ground on your side. Your whole weight, falling on your left hand.
Screaming in pain, you heard your friend calling for you asking if you were okay, while with teary eyes you saw Bern running away and a lot of curious people forming a circle around you.
“Hey girl, uhm,” You took your phone to your ear and brought your other hand to your chest. “I think I’m gonna be late for the party.”
After some X-rays, a movement test and a bunch of medical terms that you didn't understand, the doctor told you that you only had a slight sprain and that you'd only need to wear a wristband for two to three weeks, take some painkillers and anti-inflammatories, and avoid movement as much as possible.
Luckily, you were already done filming the second season of your series. Your only concern, the pre-production of the new movie that started in a couple of weeks.
Those events led you the next day, sitting in front of Mark’s desk, being given a speech of how you should be more careful while talking to fans.
“… And that's why I consider it appropriate for you to take an escort with you.”
“But I don’t need protection!” you yelled at your manager. “I can defend myself.”
“Yeah? How did that go yesterday?”
Licking your lips in exasperation, you tried to come up with a compelling argument so you could persuade him to put his crazy idea aside and let you be.
“Look, Mark, I’m just saying that I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Y/N, understand, I don’t want anything like that happening to you again. While that lunatic is still out there, you cannot go out alone."
“It was not a big deal. I don’t know why you’re all acting like he beat the hell out of me.”
“He could have.”
“But he didn’t!” You stood up and wandered around his office. “I’m tired of telling people that I can handle these kinds of situations just fine.”
“I don’t care what you think.” Pointing at the chair in front of him, he signaled for you to sit again, which you did recultanty. “I found a guy. He’s supposed to be the best of the best; good recommendations, excellent resumé, and an impressive knowledge of, what seems to be, martial arts." He said as he held an open folder. "Just... give it a chance, would you?" He handed you the folder. "If after a month you feel uncomfortable with someone following you around twenty four seven well, we'll find another solution."
You looked at the information printed in the piece of paper, not paying attention to it and sighed in defeat, throwing your head back. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Of course, you should have known better than to think that.
Two days later, Monday morning, during breakfast –or study time, as you usually called it, your doorbell rang.
Still in your pajamas, you went to open the door. A half empty bowl of fruit, held between your left forearm and ribs. Your hand, immovile, caught in the wristband.
Mark stood in front of you, looking as if someone had dropped ice cream in his favorite pair of shoes. Right eyebrow raised and lips pressed in a tight line. He was mad. At you, specifically. But it was not his expression what caught your attention. It was the man behind him; a hundred and eighty-two pounds of pure muscle and six feet of gorgeousness remained silent and still, wearing an immaculate black suit and showing no emotion in his handsome face.
“What did I tell you?” Mark asked as he showed you his phone. A picture of you and two other girls adorned the screen.
“I don’t know.” You took a grape from your plate and turned to walk to the living room again, both men, following you inside. “You’ve told me plenty of things since we met.”
The other man looked around unimpressed, hands behind his back and an analytic glint drawn on his pupils.
You dropped to the couch, taking the script and marker again to continue with your previous task.
“I specifically said that I didn’t want you to expose yourself by going out alone.” He sat on the coffee table. The other guy, rigid and impassable a few steps away. “And, what do you do? You decide to go for a walk, wave at paparazzis, give autographs and have long conversations with strangers in the street.”
“They’re not strangers.” You threw the script aside. “They’re my fans, and if it wasn’t for them, we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place.”
“One of those fans is the reason we’re having this conversation right now.” He inhaled deeply, as if it helped him calm down. “I’m not here to argue with you.” He stood up.
“Lucky me!” Your sarcasm had him shaking his head.
“I came to introduce you to the newest addition to your team.”
For some reason, you felt as if they had practiced that part, with the man walking in your direction and reaching out his hand to you the second Mark finished the sentence.
“Miss Y/L/N, my name’s Christopher and I'll be the one taking care of your safety.”
You eyed him up and down from your seat.
My safety. You thought, chuckling. He's way too cute not to be an actor… model, if not.
“Well, Chris, welcome aboard.” You shook his hand with your healthy one.
“I would appreciate it if you called me Christpher, if you don’t mind.” He straightened, the tone of his request calm, but firm.
“Sure, Chris.” He narrowed his eyes in discomfort but did nothing to correct you again.
With an eye roll, Mark moved to sit beside you and invited Christopher to have a seat as well.
“Let's start, shall we?” Your manager asked, putting out a notebook full of post-its. Your new shadow, doing the same.
You spent the rest of the day checking your activities for the next week, preparing security measures and a contingency plan, in case it was needed.
Your script reading, delayed until dinnertime.
The first two weeks were not as boring as you thought they'd be. Rumors of a certain actress dating a mysterious guy blew the internet as soon as he was spotted helping you get out of your car in the parking lot of a mall. Gossips about your love life, breaking social media when photos of you two carrying your shopping bags were published. Speculations regarding him moving in with you were heard the day he accidentally appeared in the back of a video you posted. All of them, dismissed during an interview, answering a question about the incident that caused it all.
Although you were having the time of your life, calling him "Chris" in every chance given, teasing him, he didn’t flinch even once.
The only problem you found was when it came to greeting people that approached you asking for a photo. Chris would create a barrier between you and your fans, and ask them to step back, scaring most of them. He took his job too seriously. That did not mean you didn’t manage to sneak out of his trained ocean eyes to get closer to them every now and then, getting on his nerves every single time.
Week three was here, which meant that you had run out of food, therefore you needed to go to the store to get some supplies for the rest of the month.
It was nine o’clock when the doorbell rang. Still in bed with eyes closed, you groaned in disbelief and covered your face with the blankets. It had been like that since his hiring became official… kind of. The first day, he arrived at six am with the excuse of needing to inspect your apartment to rule out possible access for intruders. Deep inside, you suspected it was his retribution for ignoring his wish of being called by his full name during your first reunion; The second day, he was at the door at seven, with the argument that his working hours started that early; On day three you decided to shorten his duty time by asking him to show up at ten thirty in the morning and gave him a key so he wouldn’t interrupt you with whatever you were doing.
Yet, he thought that it was better if he was there earlier in case an unexpected event arose. And if it was not enough, he clung to the idea that waiting to be invited in was the right thing to do.
The shrill sound echoed through the house again, making you want to disconnect it and knock him out with it. Instead, you got out of bed and with slow, heavy steps, went to open the door, leaving your robe and slippers behind. You gave up your efforts of looking presentable on day six.
Unlike you, with tangled hair, morning breathing and wrinkled pajamas, he was wide awake, prepared to start the day with his batteries fully charged.
“You know where the coffee is.” You let him in and closed the door behind him, knowing damn well that he didn't need a cup as much as you did. “I’ll be right back.”
Dragging your feet on the floor, you walked directly to the bathroom, not ready to say goodbye to the comfort and warmth of your bed and replace them for the awakening effect of a shower.
Your voice accompanied the music coming out of the radio on your way back to your apartment, hands playing simultaneously an imaginary guitar and the biggest air drum someone could imagine. Singing the guitar solo and shaking your head to the beat of the song from the passenger seat had Chis peeking at you, successfully hiding a smile behind a weary face.
Right when the chorus started, your stomach roared, ruining the moment and your performance in the process.
“We can go get you something to eat.” He suggested, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Yeah, I’m starving!” Unlocking your phone, you searched for a place nearby where you could have a pizza. “Bet you too.”
“I doubt that.” Clicking on the pin of a pizza and pasta restaurant, you said. “This morning you rejected my kind breakfast offer,” Sarcasm, coming out easily. You offered him a bowl of cereal with barely any cereal on it with no milk. “And I hadn’t seen you eat anything the whole day.”
“I’m good.” He repeated, shaking his head, putting the conversation to an end and turning right when you told him to.
There was no explanation. No apparent reason for it to happen the way it did. Maybe you had bad luck with food establishments, maybe you should resign to home deliveries and never step on a restaurant for the rest of your life.
Chris had parked a block away from the pizza place due to the lack of space in front of it, which meant that you had to walk a couple of meters to get there and then to your car when you were finished.
Halfway to your car, with Chris on your right facing forward, you felt a hand stopping you by your shoulder from behind and jumped in surprise, letting out a sight.
Faster than light, Chris placed himself between you and the stranger and with brute force, one of his fists collided with the guy’s stomach while the other pushed him back by the neck, sending him to the ground. You swore you saw him falling in slow motion.
“Oh, my God!” someone said. A bunch of teens quickly approached the scene.
Looking down, you saw a boy not older than nineteen, holding a napkin and a black marker.
No amount of words could describe how embarrassed you were, no amount of autographs you were to give could make you feel better.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You apologized to him and his friends, sending a deadly glare in Chris’ direction, who stood impassive as if it was nothing. “This won’t happen again, I swear.” You vividly imagined next day’s headline: “FAN IS SENT TO THE HOSPITAL WITH INTERNAL BLEEDING AFTER TRYING TO SAY HELLO TO Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Don’t worry.” The guy on the floor said as you helped him stand up, his hand covering the side of his abdomen. “I read what happened to you, it’s good that you have backup.”
“What can I do to compensate you for this? I feel horrible.” Your concern, showing as you bit your lip.
“We can always take a photo and forget this happened?” He asked with a smile drawn on his lips, which made you relax your shoulders. The weight of guilt, slowly disappearing.
Taking a look at his friends, they all nodded in agreement and signed up for a photo themselves.
As punishment, you proposed that Chris took the photo this time to make up for the misunderstanding, making them all laugh. He didn’t like the idea but did it nevertheless after he decided that they were harmless.
You two would have a conversation as soon as you were alone.
“Are you crazy?” You had barely entered your apartment when you started with your lecture. “Why did you think that punching a fifteen year old was a good idea?!”
“I didn’t know he was fifteen.” he said, as composed as always.
“Exactly. You didn’t know.” You pointed your finger at him. “Because you didn’t stop to check who was ‘attacking’ me.”
Slapping the door closed, you marched to the living room, willing to start an unlikely discussion.
“He shouldn’t have touched you in the first place.” He left the bags in the aisle of the kitchen. “I was just doing my job.”
The coolness of his statement sent you over the edge.
“Attacking people is not your job!”
“And, what exactly is my job, then?” The tranquility with which he had handled himself up to that moment fading little by little. “You have treated me as your assistant all this time. I am not here to do your grocery shopping, I am here to protect you!” He yelled at you, His anger and frustration, evident. Until now, you were not sure if he was able to show any sort of emotion.
“How many times do I have to say that I don’t need protection?” You yelled back.
“If so, why am I here?”
“You, my friend,” Shortening the distance, you poked his chest with your index finger. “Are here because my manager is a paranoiac grandpa who believes I’m too naive to put my trust in everyone.”
“In everyone but me.”
“I. Don't. Need. To. Trust. You.” You added force to your touches with each word.
“Stop it.” He said, taking your hand in his.
“What? Can’t stand a girl telling you that she doesn’t need you to be her knight in shiny armor?” With your other hand, you resumed your poking, with less force thanks to the pain it caused you.
“I’m serious.” He caught your other hand, making you whine in an ache.
“Yeah, me too.” You got closer to his face. “Go terrify teenagers elsewhere.”
Attempting to step away from him in a dramatic way, you pulled your arms down, not giving a damn if it hurted, but he didn't let go. Instead, he held you with more strength. You did it again but ended up with the same result. The only one thing you thought would set you free, spitting from your mouth like poison: “You're fired.”
He tilted his head, contemplating if you were kidding or not. When he decided that you weren’t, he huffed. A dry and somber action that sent chills down your spine.
“You don’t get to decide that.” His hold on your wrists relaxed, giving you the opportunity to step away.
“No, I don’t. But I’m calling Mark to tell him that this,” You gestured circles with your hands. “Didn’t work.”
One second you were reaching for the phone and the second, being slammed against the wall next to the couch by Chris, whose right hand was firmly placed in your throat. The amused look on his face and his head shake, had you voiceless.
“You really are a pain in the ass.” he affirmed. His face was so close to yours that you could count the hairs of his beard if you wanted to, see the almost imperceptible tint of green in his eyes, kiss his plump lips if he just leaned enough…
His eyes explored your face, absorbing every inch of it, learning your features, like trying to memorize them. When you parted your lips to exhale and your breath hit his face, he closed his eyes. His long lashes brushing softly above his cheekbones and his bicep, looking more prominent under his tight ironed black shirt, thanks to the growth on strength of his grip.
“What are you doing?” The tremble of your voice brought his gaze to you once again. The way you practically moaned the question, had his cook twitching under his trousers.
“When I accepted Mark’s offer to work with you, I did not expect you to be as difficult as he described you.” The sides of his thumb and index finger dug in your jaw, forcing your head up and the rest of your body to be supported by your tiptoes. “I thought I’d be able to do my job as I’ve been doing it all these years but you had to make it complicated, hadn’t you?”
You wanted to answer him, oh, how much you wanted to give him a smart comeback to lower his guard, but given the predicament you were in, with your back flat against a cold wall and your panties damped for an inexplicable reason, you decided to wait for the perfect moment to do it.
With his other hand, he removed an unruly lock of hair that covered your face, tucking it behind your ear. The gesture felt so sweet, so intimate that you almost forgot what his other hand was doing.
“Being close to you has been torture.” The ghost of his words grazed your face. “Watching you roaming around in nothing but those extremely thin pajamas of yours, listening to you sing while taking a shower,” His lips made contact with your cheek ever so slightly that you wanted to move forward to feel it again, something impossible at the moment. “Having to put up with all those hormonal high schoolers undressing you with their eyes and standing there as if it didn’t affect me.”
“Are you saying that you find it offensive?” Collecting all the lucidity you had left, you asked. “Or that you also want to undress me?”
He smirked. An incredulous smile adorning his charming appearance.
The fingers of his left hand drew your collarbone, passed over the hem of your sundress and stopped above its first button.
“I think the answer to that is obvious by now.”
He was still keeping you glued to the wall with his big hand wrapped around you. Not that you were to move an inch if he wasn’t.
“And, what are you waiting for?”
For the second time during your discussion, he analyzed you, looking for any mockery or sarcasm –since it came natural to you. What he found this time, surprised him, pleased him; the words desire and hunger were written all over you. Not a bit of disgust or discomfort about his grip on you was visible. And it clicked to him. You liked it. It was the reason why you hadn't tried to escape or push him away.
Sadly for you, his hand left your hot flesh to get at the neckline of your dress, taking the piece of fabric in between his fingers, as well as with his other hand.
In the blink of an eye, he pulled, ripping the buttons from their seams and making them fly all over the place, leaving your dress open and hanging from your shoulders as if it were a cape, displaying your almost naked body to his view. You were not wearing a bra, but it was not a surprise, he had been purposely looking up and away from you the whole day. Your underwear was not so different whatsoever, the smallest thong he had ever seen was kept in place by two thin threads hugging your hips. It was not difficult for him to get rid of it, putting it on his pocket.
Not wanting to stay like that forever, you reached for his belt, willing to undo it with shaky, slow fingers since your wrist still hurted. As you did so, he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it somewhere near the dining table.
He was tattooed; an eagle was drawn on the right side of his chest while a legend was written in the left, various pieces adorned the upper part of his arms and some others were scattered around his abdomen, a bigger one was visible near his v line. You felt the urge of licking every single one of them, recreating the patterns which the artists probably used to ink him.
“Like what you see?” He asked. Having had your mouth opened, you would have most likely been drooling.
“I think the answer is obvious.”
He took your face with both his hands and stamped his lips to yours in a heated kiss. It was all tongues and teeth, your faces moving in different angles to have better access to each other’s mouths. His beard scratched your cheeks, tickled you, but you barely registered that, too immersed in the battle of dominance your tongues were fighting.
For a second, you forgot what your hands were supposed to be doing, but resumed their task after his went to your now ruined dress and slipped it down your arms.
Pulling down his pants you ended the kiss to gather some needed oxygen. Looking down, you saw his length had formed a tent in his boxers and you throbbed.
“Is it too late to say that this is utterly unprofessional from you?” your breathless question was just finished when he dug his fingers on your neck again, spun and threw you to the couch with enough force to move it minimally.
“It is.” He climbed on top of you, opening your legs with one hand and keeping himself up with the other, holding onto the back of the couch. At some point, he found the opportunity to take off his remaining piece of cloth.
His cock stood proud resting against his lower belly, its red tip, already leaking with precum. The sight of it, of all of him, had your hips jolting forward, searching for that which would end the torment you were being a prisoner of. You closed your eyes, attempting to compose yourself and don't seem too eager to be one with him.
You were soaked. Your arousal going down your ass and wetting the surface of the couch.
“Well, I think--” He cut you out in the middle of a sassy comment. “Shit! Chris!” You screamed when he shoved inside of you with no warning. His hips, stopping when he bottomed out, not precisely to let you adjust to his size. Your hands, flying back to hold onto the arm of the couch, your left wrist, complaining in pain as you bent it.
“Say it again.” the hand that held your waist, now was on your throat, tightening its grip once more. “It’s been driving me crazy this whole time.”
Suppressing the need to remind him all those times he told you not to call him that, too afraid of letting out a whimper, you obeyed, repeating his name like a prayer, wishing that he started moving.
He did. Slow. Agonizingly slow.
With each unhurried thrust you wanted to drag him down hard, but him, having the back of your head buried in the soft material of your couch, made it impossible.
“Isn’t it funny?” He looked down at you. “How you wouldn’t forgive me for kicking the air out of someone but would beg me to do exactly that to you?”
His fingers squeezed your flesh, making you whine.
You swallowed, the difficulty of it evident for both of you. “I didn’t beg.” Your raspy voice came out as a whisper, but he listened. Of course he did.
Fire came out of his eyes, an almost primal groan left his lips right before his hips started moving back and forth with an animalistic determination.
“Oh, God!” you moaned.
“Do you have any idea of how frustrated I felt every time I caught you running away from my side to risk yourself getting hurt again?” His peace was ruthless, the slapping sounds of his hips colliding with the back of your thighs, getting louder as well as your cries, filling your ears in the most sinful way. “How useless I thought I was when my most important task was to hold the door open for you?” The vein in the side of his neck was more visible than usual, popping up due to the effort to which he was subjected. “How I felt like garbage when you saw me as if I was a monster for doing precisely what I get paid to do?”
He sounded hurt, brutally honest and it made your heart sink. The contrast between his words and movements, lighting a dilemma in your head. You were not going to justify yourself for what you did, but you also felt like he deserved an apology for putting up with your shit. After all, it was not his fault, he was just following orders.
Too lost in your thoughts and pleasure, you didn’t notice his hand had left the couch to find your clit. Only when he applied pressure, rubbing fast circles, did you decide to enjoy what he was giving to you and to feel bad for your recklessness and childish behavior later.
“Please, keep going!” high pitched pleads fell from you as your hands abandoned the soft material of the couch and gripped on Chris’ wrist.
“Are you being nice now?” He somehow managed to fasten his assault, causing your breasts to bounce up everytime his pubic bone hit you and raising the sound of your squeals. “Let’s see how nice you can cum.”
Every time he pushed inside, you saw from the corner of your eye the painting hanging in the wall moving away. Or, was it the couch what was moving? At this point, you didn’t mind. You only cared about the immeasurable pleasure Chris was giving you and the knot forming in your stomach, telling you that you were close to your release.
“I’m--” You tried announcing but a particularly deep shove stopped you.
“Me too.” He inhumanly doubled his efforts rubbing your bud with two fingers and tightening his other hand around you, nearly having you seeing stars without pausing his thrusts.
“C’mon, baby, cum for me.” The term he used, snapped the coil inside of you, bringing you to the strongest and more powerful orgasm of your life with a raw scream that came from the top of your lungs. He could feel your fast pulse coming back to normal.
Squirming under him and clenching your spasmic walls around his still hard cock, you heard him curse. His hips faltered and he twitched inside of you.
Throwing his head back, he kept moving, reaching his own climax, something your over sensitive body resented.
“Chris…” moaning his name was all it took for him to paint your insides with his hot seed.
Both of you were out of breath and covered with a thin layer of sweat, and while he looked like the personification of a greek god, you imagined your appearance was not so different from when you got out of bed, with your hair a mess and your voice raspy –only, for a whole other reason this time. Yet, he looked at you as if you had been hours in front of a mirror, getting ready for a red carpet.
Still buried inside of you, Chris took you by the waist and moved to the side, laying on the couch, putting an arm behind your shoulders, hugging you to keep you from falling, and placing one of your legs on top of his thigh to be more comfortable.
The white mark of his hand was slowly fading from your skin and he explored it with his fingertips, making sure that he didn’t hurt you for real.
“You’re still fired.”
He laughed at that. Genuinely laughed. It had been the first time since you met him that you heard him laugh. And for some reason, you didn’t want it to be the last.
He took your injured hand and interviewed his fingers with yours.
As promised, I got to write many Headcanons for Chris' special day, however, I couldn't get through all the requests. I'm sorry if I missed your request, it's my brother's birthday on the 13th as well so I'm always incredibly busy on this day. Anyways, I made a masterlist so you guys could enjoy all the special fics in one place.
A/N - This one made me cry. Anon requested a fic where Chris kept something dark hidden from the reader and when she finds out, she takes drastic measures.
|| WARNINGS || Language, Explicit Themes, Mentions of rape, heavy suicidal thoughts and more..., just incredibly dark and sad
|| PAIRINGS || Chris Evans x Reader
Throughout your life, so many people had let you down and hurt you so badly to the point where you had all but lost faith in humanity.
Until you met Chris, he helped turn your life around. He protected you from the darkness that had previously infiltrated into your life. He kept you safe.
Atleast that's what you thought...
They say that the brain blocks out traumatic memories in order for our emotions to block out any pain.
That's what happened to you. You didn't remember much from that night. Ofcourse, you had been drugged.
You just remembered crying and that's it.
Anytime you asked Chris, you could tell he was deflecting. He would answer with open-ended responses that left you struggling to find some sort of closure.
You weren't sure of what had happened that night, but you did know of a way to exactly find out.
Everytime Chris would see you anywhere near his old friend from highschool, Tyler, he would flinch. He would come up with any excuse possible to get you away from him and you could see it in both their eyes that they knew something you didn't. A secret.
You remember hearing Tyler's voice that night. You remembered your own crying as well as Chris'. None of it made much sense.
So you decided to do something reckless and stupid and completely idiotic. You decided to cozy up with Tyler.
If Chris was so desperate to get you away from him, he'd better have a good reason of why.
You spent days and nights over at Tyler's, the two of you becoming close friends fast.
Tyler was easy to talk to, he understood you. But you could never shake the feeling of anguish, of terror when you were with him and you were determined to find out why that was.
It had taken Chris a few weeks to figure out the alarming amount of time you, his girlfriend spent over at Tyler's.
One day when he had noticed your snapchat story of you kissing Tyler sloppily on the cheek, he couldn't take it.
He stormed down to his house and grabbed your arm, demanding you leave with him.
"We're going. Right now." You planted your feet as you glared daggers into him. "Not until you tell me why you want me to leave so badly?"
"You don't know him." Chris spat, his chin pointing at a taken-aback looking Tyler.
"What do I need to know about him? You're clearly hiding something from me. You either tell me what it is now or I leave you and stay with Tyler."
The look of determination in your eyes made Chris lose his confidence. He broke out in tears as he fell to his knees, holding your waist and sobbing into your lower abdomen.
"He raped you." Chris whispered so softly that you thought you had heard him wrong.
You stilled as Tyler laughed, "Chris, buddy. You drunk again?"
You couldn't bring yourself to look down at Chris. It all suddenly made sense, that night made sense.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Your voice broke.
"H-he always took care of me. He got me out of trouble and bought me shit when Ma and Dad couldn't afford it. He just... he treated me like a younger brother. I didn't want to dissapoint him."
You shook your head, "So you hide this from me?" You whispered. You pried his arms from around your waist and walked away. You didn't know what to feel, all you knew was that you had to do something.
He didn't try to follow you and it's a good thing he didn't, otherwise you might’ve killed him.
You drove home and went straight up to your shared bedroom with Chris. You went to your drawer and got out your shotgun.
You sat down numbly on the bed. You couldn't feel anything and it was scaring you.
You tried to... tried to feel the pain of his betrayal, but it wasn't as much painful as overwhelming.
Everything that happened to you before you met Chris, when you were in the same place you are now, came rushing back to you.
Chris was you safe place.
You took off the safety from the gun, cocking it and letting the stray bullet casing fall to the floor.
You situated your gun near your temple as you closed your eyes shut.
Chris was bloody and bruised up. He walked through the door, throughly exhausted.
His knuckles were bruised raw and his face had a few cuts. Tyler had gotten in a few good punches before Chris completely dominated over him, leaving his old friend to lay there, bleeding out of his wounds.
Chris walked upstairs and reached the door to your shared bedroom. He knew you didn't want to see him, but he had to see you.
He knocked on the door, "Y/N/N? We gotta talk." You didn't answer, thinking that you were already asleep, he entered into the dark bedroom. He could barely see anything, it was so dark.
He drew back the blinds to let in a little moonlight and turned back to look at you.
From afar, it seemed as if you had exhaustively plopped down on bed and gone to sleep.
Which Chris, later, would've wanted to be the case.
He walked up to you and only then he noticed the steady stream of dark scarlet that poured out of your temple. He noticed your open eyes.
He froze and then he rushed forwards, cradling you in his arms. "No, no, no, no." He cried, holding you as he wept.
"You're okay. Look at me Y/N. Y/N. You're alive. You're fine. You're okay." He kept telling himself. He had to.
He couldn't lose you.
"Y/N. Please." He sobbed loudly into your neck, he didn't care if he got your blood all over his body. "Please. Y/N! Y/N!"
He looked into your eyes and they terrified him. They were empty. Devoid of any soul or life.
He clutched you tightly, screaming loudly. Wishing that he could go back in time and kill Tyler when he was about to rape you.
He was never the same after that day. He lost his own soul that day as well.
A/N - Anon requested, present opening with Chris and you get him an engagement ring. This one was, by far, the cutest one.
|| WARNINGS || So much Fluff that you'll never be able to eat anything sweet again, loll.
|| PAIRINGS || Chris Evans x Reader
Every morning Chris would wake you up with a smile on his face as he leaned in to kiss you. He would whisper, "You look so beautiful in the morning." Into your ear, melting your insides.
This time, however, you had woken first. You scattered around the house, searching for the perfect place to put your phone camera, which in a few minutes would go on live stream to both yours and Chris' family.
After all, this was an occasion that would be hard to miss for them. They wanted to see it, see the both of you.
You finally decided to place your phone on the fireplace, behind your Twilight Saga books. The phone peeking out just enough so that they could see you two.
Half-an-hour later, everything was set, the livestream was working as you waved Hello to your family (which included Chris' as well) and you heard Chris just exiting the bathroom.
He walked outside. A smile on his face. He leaned in to kiss you good morning and you could smell the minty toothpaste on his breath. "Hey you. Sleep alright?"
Chris chuckled at you, "Well, you tired me out last night, baby."
Your cheeks flushed red, "Chris!" You lightly scolded him, swatting at his arms and he chuckled, "What? Not like my or your folks are listenin'." You pursed your lips to keep from smiling.
He poured himself a cup of tea as you patted the couch seat beside you and he nodded, walking over and plopping down next to you.
"I thought maybe we could start by opening presents today." Chris smirked, "Or we could start by fuc-" "Chris, seriously." You laughed nervously. Oh boy.
Chris shook his head, laughing, "Something's gotten into you today, you're not usually this shy." You rolled your eyes as you handed him your present excitedly.
He smiled at your enthusiasm, placing his tea on the coffee table and gently opening the wrapper. You watched with barely contained excitement as he worked through the wrapping paper and opened the box.
His brows furrowed as he searched through the abundance of tissue paper to find the small box. "Heh. Did you just give me a box of tissue paper?"
You chuckled, "No, just keep searching."
All his attention was on finding his present in the box as you sunk off the couch and down on one knee.
"HA! Found it!" He waved the box in excitement as he opened the small, velvet box and looked inside to see a beautiful, obsidian and diamond encrusted engagement ring.
He startled, "What-" his words caught in his throat as he looked over at you.
Your eyes were teary as you looked into his.
"All my life, I've searched for someone who understands me and someone who would always love me, never hurt me. You know I've had a shitty dating history until I met you. Chris, you make me feel like exploding with joy every second I'm with you. I can't imagine a future where you're not in it. I can't imagine being with anyone other than you."
You took his hand in yours, "So... Christopher Robert Evans... will you marry me?" He took a shaky breath as he smiled and nodded, trying desperately to hold back his own tears.
"Yes. Ofcourse. Yes." You smiled as you placed the ring on his finger and you two heard the cheers of your family.
You kissed Chris passionately and he hugged you, "Who says men have to propose?" You asked. You felt pretty good about your own proposal.
A/N - Third lil drabble of the day. Anon requested just cuddling with Chris, please 🥺
|| WARNINGS || Fluff, pure Fluff, might give you a toothache
|| PAIRINGS || Chris Evans x Reader
Christopher Robert Evans was like a huge dog. When he set his mind to lay down somewhere, no force in the earth could reckon him to move, at all.
You laid there with him, your human furnace as your eyes were trained up on the ceiling and you tried desperately not to suffocate under the huge man that was crushing your bones.
"Chris." You softly shook him and he murmured an "I love you" in response. "Chris!" You tried again, except a little louder this time.
"Mm baby, love you so goddamn much." You exhaustedly sighed, "CHRIS!" He startled awake, "What? Jesus woman, what time is it?"
You glared holes into him, "Time for you to get your fatass off my body." He pouted, "I'm not fat!"
You rolled your eyes, getting up when Chris grabbed your wrist and pulled you ontop of him, hugging you close to his body. You inhaled his distinct oceany smell. Like waves and fresh Coleus.
"Baby, I gotta work." You protested weakly. "It's Sunday, Y/N." You bit your lip. Oh yeahhhh... it was Sunday.
You giggled as you relented into his touch, "Fine, but only for a few minutes."
You knew Chris loved to cuddle, it was his favorite part of your daily morning and nightly routine.
Infact, any time he could, he cuddled with you. He loved to have the feeling of you, safe in his arms, for him to love forever.
He loved to toy with the recently worn engagement band on your ring finger, spinning it around on there and noticing the glint of it. He still couldn't believe you had said yes.
His arms wrapped around your waist as he placed you on the side of the bed next to him and hugged you to his body.
You placed small, appreciation kisses all over his chest and he raised your face with one hand so he could pepper sloppy kisses all over your face. That's another resemblance he had to a dog, his wet kisses.
"Ugh, Chris." You squealed in laughter and he chuckled with you. Just hearing your laugh made him happy, made his stomach explode with butterflies.
He kissed you over and over again, until you were breathing hard from not being able to catch your breath while laughing and he was laughing just as hard alongside you.
You two calmed down after a while as you wiped your eyes and looked up into Chris'.
"I love you, my fiancé." You muttered with a cheesy smile plastered on your face.
Chris leaned in and kissed you again, this time pouring all his love into the kiss, "I love you too, my future wife."
It was times like these that you really cherished. Not the parties or wild vacations, but laying in bed with Chris and loving each other.