coltrainbat

Latest Posts by coltrainbat

And Finally...😃 I really love this story. How did you write everything so well? It was really worth the wait. The dialogues were great. Nick was exactly as sweet as he was in the movie. I loved this part :

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

Now the question is this. How can I wait for the next episodes? Thank you very much, you are great, my dear💛💛💛

And...he is one day younger than Chris? :)

OMGGGG THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVELY 🥺🥺

Next part will take a little but i PROMISE not as long as last time 💕💕

(i missed up Chris's bday thats why... but shhh)

Hey lovely! Which story is this 💕///

Oh sorry. I was so exited i forgot to mention the fic. It was Chris and Curvy reader. There are 3 parts of it. They are so good. Would you mind wite more about them? Like headcanons of dif events? Going on a date, someone is sick, first "i love you"...

I love this!!! I'll definitely keep this going with headcanons if you send in reqs for individual headcanons I would defs do this! 😘😘

Chris shit with her again...tge only thing that can make me feel better and get me out of Chris is this Nick Voughan new fic

Girl.... I agree! I am working on fics now!! So you'll see a lot of me over the weekend 😘💕

Nick Vaughan X Reader Series

Take Me Home | Part 1: Meet Cute

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re not alone. Never in New York.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.” You finally let out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh really?”

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

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

“Fine.” You let out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: “Fair enough.”

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

Y/N: “In a mug.”

Nick: “Funny.”

Y/N: “I know. Now my turn.”

Nick: “Shoot.”

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

Nick: “I’m a musician.”

Y/N: “Yes, but not a vampire so…”

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

Y/N: “So, you’re a hustler?”

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

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

“It’s pretty late-”

“I should let you go-”

You looked at each other, letting out soft laughter.

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

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

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

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

"Fine.”

"Goodnight, [Your country]."

“Goodnight, Nick.”

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

🥹🥹🥹

Are you still writing Chris Evans? Who else are you writing

Yess! Chris Evans & characters 🍀💕

Hi are you accepting request now? 😅

YES GIVE THEM TO ME!!!

i was reading again and want to say well done. all parts are very well written. love the conversation in part two. any plan for writing for those two more?

Hey lovely! Which story is this 💕

i'm just an assistant: pt. 6 - lost hope

I’m Just An Assistant Series: Pt. 6 - Lost Hope

Pairing: Chris Evans x Female!Reader

Summary: After being Chris’s Personal Assistant for almost a decade, the notable tension and playful banter leaves both of you wondering if there’s more to your relationship than meets the eye.

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out! My creativity tank is very low these days lol thank you for waiting for me :)

W/C: 5.1k

Warnings: sexual tension, talk of sex, Chris gets a little handsy (but like... in a consensual way). things get kind of emotional and angsty. I think maybe this would be considered a cliffhanger? But i'm not sure lol. As always, let me know if i missed anything :)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen with Chris or his family in real life. 

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS.

I'm Just An Assistant Masterlist

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

I no longer have a taglist! Please head over to @time-for-a-library​ and turn on notifications!

- No Pressure Links - 

Book Wishlist

Buy Me A Coffee :)

The smell of hot breakfast (something with eggs and probably pancakes knowing Lisa) wafted up the stairs, stirring you from a peaceful sleep. Despite your stomach grumbling, you refused to move a muscle. 

You could hear Chris’s steady breathing. You could feel it tickling against your neck, his body curled around yours, and you couldn’t move. You were afraid that one little tick of your muscles would stir him, and then whatever magical dream world you’d been living in since you entered this room last night would come to an end. 

And you certainly weren’t ready for that. 

You wanted to stay locked away in this room forever, stealing secret moments and sweet kisses from Chris. You wanted to memorize the small constellation of freckles on his nose and count the flecks of green hiding in the blues of his eyes. 

The second that door opened, the seal would be broken and you’d be thrust back into the hectic nature of Chris’s life and honestly, you weren’t sure where that would leave you. Personally or with Chris. 

He’d told you to relax and stop overthinking and that whatever happens, happens, but your mind wouldn’t stop turning. Was this just a matter of convenience? You just happened to be snowed in together and the second you left, things would go back to ‘normal’? Whatever the fuck normal even means for the two of you these days. 

You didn’t think Chris would treat you like that. It didn’t seem like something he would do. Based on the things he whispered to you last night, that wasn’t how he felt. 

But you weren’t… dating. There was no clarification on that. 

Were you supposed to be affectionate in front of his family now? Were you supposed to be keeping that to yourselves? 

There were so many unanswered questions flying around inside of your brain, it was hard to keep them all straight. 

You were so focused on filing away these questions in your mind that you didn’t notice Chris had already begun to stir in the bed behind you.

A large hand slid up your abdomen and underneath your tank top, slowly inching up to cup your breast. Chris kneaded softly, sucking in a soft breath that morphed into a moan. “God, I could do this all day.” 

You laughed, shaking your head, and sinking back into the cradle of his large body. Chris grinned against your neck, his lips pressed lightly against your skin as a sigh of contentment fell from your mouth. 

There was no way you’d be able to look Chris in the face if this didn’t mean as much to him as it did to you. 

Chris’s hand traveled up and down your side, his fingers dragging lightly against your skin. “I can hear the gears turning. What’s going on in that head?” 

You smiled softly, melting a little at just how well he knew you. “I don’t know. A lot. I’m not really sure where to start.” 

He pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck. “Start with the simplest one.” 

You pondered your answer in silence for a moment, letting your eyes drift shut as Chris soothed your worried mind with soft kisses. 

“Anything?” He asked quietly. 

“What’s going on with Lacey?” 

That one seemed simple enough. He said that it wasn’t anything romantic, but there was definitely interest from at least her side. If something was happening between you and Chris, you wanted details about the potential threat. 

A small part of you expected Chris’s body to tense or for him to give you the runaround, but he just continued his never-ending trail of kisses before pausing to answer. “Well, you already know that she’s a donor. She um— she was the date that I had when I came back from New York. I think we both knew there wasn’t anything there. She asked if we could grab drinks to go over some stuff for the fundraiser and I said yes. That’s all. Nothing romantic. At all.” 

You could feel the tension ease off of your sternum, sighing with relief that there wasn’t anything going on between them. Ever since that email came through, you’d been worried that he was leaving something out, but it really was just as simple as he promised. Drinks and fundraiser talk. 

You almost hated how thankful you were for that. 

“Okay?” 

You nodded, “Okay.” 

“Good. Next.” 

You let out a small laugh, once again becoming distracted by his lips against your skin. “I— um. Are we supposed to be like affectionate in front of people now? I’m not sure I’m ready for that. You’re kind of a big deal, ya know? That’s a lot of pressure.” 

Chris chuckled, “I know it’s a lot. We can take this at whatever speed you’re comfortable with. If you want to hide it for 10 years, we’ll hide it. If you wanna scream it from the rooftops, I’ll bring the ladder.” 

Your heart fluttered at the mention of a future with him. 

“I think just between us is perfect for now.” 

“Us as in us? Or us as in family can know but not the press or social media.” 

“The former,” you answered, pursing your lips. “I think? Is that okay?” 

“Fine by me.” 

“I just— I feel like we have so much to—“ 

Chris interrupted you, “Honey, you don’t need to explain yourself to anyone. Especially me. ‘Kay?” 

You nodded, melting against his body. “Okay.” 

Though you appreciated what he was saying, you did wish that he would let you explain. There was just too much the two of you needed to figure out before you were kissing and hanging all over each other in front of Lisa. You couldn’t field questions from his family before you knew the answers yourself. 

Before you could continue your laundry list of questions, a soft knock sounded on the door. “Is everyone decent?” 

You laughed at Scott’s question, rolling away from Chris’s arms as he pushed himself out of bed, throwing on a shirt. 

“Everyone’s decent,” Chris called out, tossing the comforter over your chest so you were covered, earning an eye roll from you. 

Scott pushed the door open, poking his head through. “Breakfast is ready. If you guys aren’t in a hurry to get back, we’re planning on taking the kids up the hill to sled. If you wanna join.” 

You shot up. “Sledding?! I’m in. Shit, wait. I don’t— Dammit! I don’t have any clothes.” 

Chris grinned, shaking his head. “We’ll figure it out. If you wanna sled, we’ll figure it out.” 

Scott pinched his lips together, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and Chris with a smug look on his face. He totally knew that something was happening. 

But then again, doesn’t everyone say that anyway? People assumed you and Chris were dating or hooking up before his hands had made their way down your pants, so what does anyone actually know? 

“Okay,” you smiled, ignoring the way that Scott basically started planning your wedding in his mind. 

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it. But breakfast is on the table.” He disappeared from the threshold, pulling the door shut behind him. 

“I almost forgot how much you loved sledding.”

“Who doesn’t love sledding, Chris? It’s sledding.” 

His eyes narrowed in your direction. “This… Isn’t satire?” 

Grabbing one of the pillows from the bed, you chucked it at his head. “No! I’m being serious, sledding the best!” You hopped out of bed, snagging your toiletry bag from your suitcase, and practically ran out of the door, eager to eat so you could spend this snowy fall day with Chris and his family. 

“The kid came out of nowhere,” You grumbled, tucking the small sled underneath your arm as Chris chuckled from behind you. 

“You tackled a teenager.” 

Rolling your eyes, you dragged your feet through the snow, walking away from the snowy hill. Chris thought that maybe it was a good idea to head back to Lisa’s house after your last ride down the hill. A cocky teenager challenged you to a race that you had zero intention of losing.

Chris warned you not to, but then Scott chimed in and double-dog dared you, so you had to. 

“He was like nineteen.” 

“Teen.” He emphasized, earning another eye roll from you. 

It wasn’t your fault that he lost control of his sled and slid right in front of you! It also wasn’t your fault that you landed on top of him. Chris decided that maybe it was time to leave after you told the teenager those exact words. There might’ve been a few expletives sprinkled within the statement, but hey, your ribs were burning something fierce because of how hard you hit him. He deserved it. 

Trekking back through the snow was no easy feat given you’d come to Lisa's unprepared for a weekend in the snow and had to borrow clothes from Chris. His sweats were cuffed several times at your ankles to make them an acceptable length. 

“Semantics,” You responded, waving your hand at him dismissively. 

He laughed, looking over his shoulder before reaching over and threading your fingers together. 

Your eyes jumped down at the connection, a swell of nervous excitement rolling through your stomach. On one hand, this crush had been developing for Chris rapidly over the past couple of months, but you never thought it would go beyond that. You hadn’t planned or prepared for hand-holding or falling asleep with the feeling of his hands on your body permanently etched onto your skin. 

There was no need to panic and plan for the future because you’d assumed there wouldn’t be one. 

But now that you were walking with Chris’s hand in yours, you weren’t sure how to react. 

You wanted to hold on and pull him close, savoring the warmth of his body on such a cold day. But there was also an overwhelming sense of insecurity that made you want to rip your hand away and take a generous step to the side. You never had to worry about comparing yourself to the women Chris brought around before, but now it was all you could seem to focus on. 

How would everyone compare you to the models and actresses he’d been seen with before? What would the press write about you? What would his fans say?

There was so much to consider and normally you did it with a clear mind. Now, Chris was fogging your brain and distorting all logic because you were the person involved now. You weren’t figuring this out with his team…  His team would be figuring it out with you in mind.

“You look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack.” 

“I think I am,” you responded quietly, swallowing past the knot forming in your throat.

Quickly, Chris released your hand, shooting over a smile in an attempt to reassure you that it was okay. But you didn’t miss the flash of hurt through his eyes.  Your stomach sank, worried that you might be ruining this already. 

“Chris, fuck, I’m sorry.” You reached out to pull him to a stop. “I know that I’m overthinking this. I just– this is a lot and your fans are a lot and I’m not trying to screw whatever this is up already. I jus–” 

With a small smile, Chris wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you toward the giant oak tree just a couple of feet away, a few brown leaves still clinging onto the branches for dear life. This snowstorm seemed to take them by surprise as well. 

He did a quick sweep of the area around you before gently easing you back against the tree, the snow-dusted bark sending a chill down your spine despite the four layers of clothing that separated you from the tree. 

“I need you to take a deep breath.” 

Your confused look was met with raised eyebrows as Chris stared down at you expectantly. 

Doing as you were told, you breathed in a lungful of cold air, watching the small cloud dissipate around you as you exhaled. “There.” 

“Now,” he smiled, his hands settling on your shoulders. “Now I need to kiss you and then we’ll continue the conversation.” 

Your smile matched his as his gloved hand slid up the side of your neck, lingering just below your hairline. 

“Is that okay?” 

“Is anyone watching?” 

Chris peeked around the tree with a grin, then shook his head. “Nope.” 

“Okay,” you breathed, your eyes dropping to his lips and the way his tongue darted out to wet them. “That’s fine with me.” 

His grin shifted from sweet to wicked, blue eyes flashing with the memories of his hands on you last night. You could read it all over his face. The heat, the desire. 

The want to do it again. 

Chris’s head dipped down, his lips pressing against yours softly like he was testing the waters. Given your hesitation to be out in the open with whatever this is, you understood. 

But the second his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, your hands flew around his neck, pulling his body as close as you could get it. As much as you wanted to keep this between just the two of you, the thought of keeping your hands to yourself now or literally any moment that you’re together in the future felt like torture. 

You could feel the smirk on his lips as they worked against yours, tongues sweeping together, sloppy, desperate, and searching for more. 

A small whimper built in your throat, and Chris groaned, the grip he had on your neck tightening. The heat from the kiss warmed your body, shielding you from the cold outside and you could have melted away with the snow right in his arms. 

He pulled away, his face strained as you separated, like it was just absolute torture to be without your lips on his. 

You definitely understood the sentiment. 

“Okay,” He breathed, “Now that we have that settled, we can talk.” 

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. 

It didn’t help. 

Nothing would help. 

Because Chris was standing so close to you that his breath tickled your hairline and warmed your skin as it fanned across your face. His hand still weighed heavy on your neck, attempting to massage the tension away. 

The reminder of the words whispered in your ear and the way his fingers slid so easily against you had your core throbbing with want and your thighs clenching against the leg he had resting between them. 

He quirked an eyebrow, that fucking smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he figured out what you were doing. “You’re making it really hard to concentrate, honey.” Chris’s voice was low and gravelly. 

“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, clearing your throat as your cheeks burned. 

“Don’t be.” A deep chuckle vibrated through his chest and against yours. 

You released a shuddering breath, focusing your gaze on the cloud of air that formed and dissipated as you exhaled instead of the inferno blazing behind Chris’s eyes. 

“You gotta stop looking at me like that,” You rasped. 

Chris let out another laugh, taking a step back and leaving you out of breath with shaky knees as you mourned the loss of his body heat. But you needed the distance. 

There was zero chance of a coherent conversation happening if you stayed pressed together like that. 

You knew that now was the time to voice all of your concerns to Chris. To tell him how conflicted and slightly insecure you were feeling. That you weren’t sure if you would be able to handle the pressure of constantly comparing yourself to any woman he’s ever held a conversation with. 

But you just couldn’t. 

Normally, you’d be able to take a step back and breathe, you’d be able to clear your mind from a neutral mindset. 

How many times over the past decade have you given one of his girlfriends a pep talk about how stunning she was and the girls in the past had nothing on her? You hadn’t exactly been telling the truth on a few occasions, so what the hell was stopping you from lying to yourself like that?

Chris removed the black glove from his hand, stuffing it into his pocket. His fingers traced against your jawline gently, blue eyes tracking the movement. Your heart thudded harder against your ribs as you recognized the emotion that flashed across his face. 

Awe. 

He cupped your chin, thumb brushing against your bottom lip and Chris looked as though he was committing everything to memory. Like he’d never get the chance to look at you like this again. Like he was lucky to be the one gliding his fingers over your cold skin. 

It didn’t make sense to you. 

Chris was the celebrity after all. He was sought out and labeled by every website and magazine as THE bachelor. The man that everyone should want. 

You were just an assistant. 

Always the person in the background, never the person in the spotlight. It didn’t suit you. 

You weren’t someone who could just take whatever the media had to say about you with a grain of salt. You would absorb everything and take it to heart. There was no facing it as Chris did. There was no light at the end of this tunnel. Just a deep spiral that ended with you drowning in a vat of insecurity. 

Sure, the two of you could always attempt to keep it a secret, but after spending so much time in the industry, you knew the ins and outs. You knew everything. No secret relationship ever stayed secret for long. And nothing would be the same after. Nothing. 

You’d have to quit your job and if you quit your job, you’d have to move back home because there was no way you’d be able to stay in Boston or near his family. It would be too hard and then–

“Were you planning on including me in this conversation or should I excuse myself?” There was a playfulness to Chris’s tone, but you could easily spot the concern swimming in his eyes. 

“I just–” you sighed, shaking your head as your eyes fell shut for a moment. “I need you to understand that whatever hesitation I have about this–” You lifted your hand to gesture vaguely between the two of you, “It has nothing to do with you. And everything to do with me. I just–” 

The words got caught in your throat. It was hard admitting to yourself that you weren’t as confident as you put on most of the time. Let alone, Chris. 

“I really like you, Chris. And what happened last night… I mean… Fuck. It was amazing,” You huffed out a laugh, looking up at Chris and finally meeting his eyes. “And I really want to keep it going, but–” 

“You don’t want people to know.” He was smiling, but you could see the hurt in his features. Thinking back, you couldn’t recall a single time that Chris had been on this side of the conversation. He was always the one pleading for someone else to be the secret. 

Your gloved hands gripped his biceps, your eyes pleading for him to understand what you were struggling to say. “But not because of you. I mean–” You shook your head. “Yes, because of you. But not because of you.” Everything was coming out wrong.

The right words were within your grasp, you could feel them dancing on the tip of your tongue, but they just wouldn’t come out. 

“I just need time. We need time to figure out what’s happening and where we want this to go. We need to figure out what we mean to each other and how we’re going to navigate literally everything. Work, life, the press. I need to figure out if I have what it takes to–” 

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

Your mouth clamped shut, brows dipping together in confusion. “What?” “Sorry. Can I kiss you?” 

Your eyes bounced between his for a moment before you nodded, Chris wasting approximately half a second before his lips pressed against yours. 

Before you can even savor the taste of him on your tongue, he was pulling away. “I need you to listen to me, okay?” 

You swallowed against the dryness of your throat, nodding once more. 

Chris’s hands came up to cup your cheeks, one gloved and one not. “I need you to understand that I will take you however I can get you. I will savor whatever you have to offer. You will hear no complaints from me. In private, in public, on the clock, off the clock. Today, tomorrow, two months from now.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Strictly as friends if that’s what you decide. This is going at whatever pace you want it to. Yeah?” 

The best you could do was nod, Chris’s confession stealing anything intelligent right out of your lungs. 

“If you tell me that you want me to shout it from the rooftops, it’s done. If you tell me that you never want another soul to know, done.”

“But what about you and how you feel?” You countered. “What about what you want?” You loved that Chris was so considerate of your feelings but you’d be a fool if you didn’t also consider how this would make him feel. 

But all he did was shrug. “All I want is you. And if that comes in stolen kisses when no one is watching and secret moments in a crowded room, then that is what I want.” 

His words melted your heart and weakened your knees, tears forming in your eyes. “Promise?” 

Chris’s lips pressed lightly against the tip of your frozen nose. “Promise.” 

You smiled, ignoring the way your nose burned as you blinked back the tears. “I just need time. Time to… Figure out whatever is happening in my head and wrap my brain around the fact that this is even happening in the first place.”

“I know,” He responded quietly. “I’m okay with keeping this a secret. For as long as you need me to. But we’re probably gonna have to tell my mom after a while.” 

“Of course.” You laughed, shaking your head. “Lisa will be the first to know. I think– I think that maybe right now all of this feels like a little bit of a fever dream. Like the second we get back to Boston, we’ll just… Move on. Things will go back to how they were and that’ll be it. And I don’t know if I can handle that.” 

It was easy to see the way Chris’s eyes darkened with lust when he was standing this close. “Trust me, Y/N. This is very real. And now that I’ve had just a little taste, I have no intention of letting you go. In fact, we should get going.” 

“Right now?” You asked. 

“Right now.” His lips found yours once more, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip. An unspoken promise that more was to come. “Because one little taste was not enough. I need you laid out in front of me with that pretty little pussy showing me just how much you need me. And then I’m going to devour you like the starved man you’ve turned me into.” 

Oh. God. 

Chris smirked at the tiny gasp that stole the air between you, knowing damn well what kind of reaction he was going to get from saying those words to you. 

“Let’s–” You cleared your throat, trying to sound less squeaky and more sultry. “Let’s go then.”

“Okay,” He chuckled, “Let’s get out of here.” 

After packing your bag and saying your goodbyes, your car was loaded and Chris was driving behind you on the way back to Boston. 

He’d insisted on driving you through the snow, but your teeny car wouldn’t give Dodger enough room to stretch out, and then Chris’s car would be stranded in Sudbury and you’d have to make another trip out there just to pick it up after the snow cleared. So driving separately just made sense. 

Honestly, having that forty-five minutes to yourself was probably for the best. It gave you a second to clear your mind and think of the positives that could come from just seeing where this thing with Chris went instead of imagining the worst. 

When you pulled up to your apartment, you were genuinely excited to see where this would go and just how long Chris would make you beg before shattering your world in the best way. 

That in itself had your whole body buzzing with need. 

Chris followed you into the parking garage, settling into the guest spot next to yours before getting out of his SUV and making his way over to where you stood. 

He grinned, stopping a few feet away like if he got any closer, he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to touch you. “I’m gonna take Dodge home and then I’ll be back. Okay?” 

“Why’d you even get out of the car?” You laughed. 

“So I could do this.” 

He moved in closer, gripping the sides of your coat and yanking you into his chest. Your smile matched his as he dipped down, his lips pressing against yours for only a few short seconds before he pulled away. “I’ll be back in twenty.” 

“Okay,” You all but whispered, trying and failing to hold back your smile. 

“Okay,” He repeated, pecking your lips once more before jogging back to his car. “Twenty minutes.” 

“I’ll be here.” 

You waited until Chris pulled back onto the street before grabbing your things to head upstairs. At least twenty minutes would give your heart time to settle before he worked you back up again. Not to mention Mowgli would scream for ten of them, letting you know just how displeased he was to be left alone.

You took the elevator up, pulling your phone out of your pocket when the buzzing didn’t stop after two notifications. 

Fiona: YOU DIDN’T TELL US CHRIS WAS DATING SOMEONE!!! 

Leah: HONESTLY. DOES THIS MAKE YOU THE OTHER WOMAN?

Jenna: They didn’t hook up, they just saw each other naked. I don’t really that counts. It only counts if P enters V.

Fiona: Or fingers. 

Fiona: Or like his mouth on any part of your body. 

Leah: I think we’re getting off track. 

Fiona: WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US CHRIS WAS DATING FUCKING LACEY WINTHROP?

Your heart sank. To a depth that you didn’t even know existed. What the hell were they talking about? Chris insisted that nothing was happening with them! He promised! 

He told you that it was just a one-time thing that didn’t work out and that they were only meeting for fundraising shit. 

Your fingers trembled as you typed out your response. 

You: What are you guys talking about? He said they weren’t dating. 

Fiona: Why were you guys talking about it????? 

You: Fi, I work for him. His personal life is basically my personal life. Can someone PLEASE provide context?!

Leah: I would give anything to watch your nostrils right now. 

Fiona: *Attached Image*

You were going to puke. The three sugar cookies you’d eaten on your drive back home were deadset on making a reappearance. You were going to be sick right in this elevator. 

Chris fucking lied. 

He lied. 

Fiona attached a picture from some tabloid, an extremely close-up and clear-as-day picture of Chris and Lacey standing outside of some restaurant. Her hands were tangled in his hair, his hand was resting on the small of her back. Their lips pressed together. 

The picture was dated after he got back from New York. He told you the date didn’t pan out with her in the first place, yet he still went on another one and kissed her. 

Clearly, he was not telling you the whole truth. 

You swallowed down the urge to vomit and typed out your response. 

You: I had no idea. He told me that they were just friends. Guess he felt like he couldn’t tell me the truth. 

Jenna: I wonder why…. 

You: I don’t know what that means. 

Fiona: *Eyeroll Emoji*

You swiped at your cheek, catching the tear before it could fall too far. Chris was not going to make you cry. 

The chime of the elevator reaching your floor made you jump, pulling you back to reality. You took a shaky breath, typing out a message to Chris as you walked to your apartment. 

You: Raincheck? Migraine coming on. I’m just gonna take a nap. See you Monday?

Three dots danced across the message thread before disappearing and reappearing again. You reached your door, digging in your bag for your keys as your vision started to blur. 

He fucking lied to you. The one person you never expected to hurt you like that. Every promise, every reassurance that he made that everything would be okay went up in flames and your heart was shattered. 

He fucking lied. 

You shoved through the door, dropping everything on the floor as another tear fell. 

Chris: Are you sure? I can bring you something. 

Chris: Did I do something? Is everything okay?

You: I just need to sleep it off. I’ll see you Monday.

Chris: You’re using punctuation… 

You: I’ll talk to you later, Chris. Have a good weekend. 

You tossed your phone onto the couch after locking your front door, ignoring the pain in your chest and the incessant vibrations from your phone as Chris called you. 

Another tear fell and you gave up on trying to keep them in. 

You were stupid to think that Chris would choose you. Obviously, someone like Lacey was more suitable for his lifestyle. She could handle the press. She could handle the fans and the way every small detail would be published for everyone to see. 

You were convenient. A warm body that he sought out quite literally in the middle of a snowstorm. A one-time thing that had no hope of progressing into something more. He lured you in with sweet nothings and gentle kisses, knowing that in the end, he would have Lacey and you would be left wondering if anything that he said to you held any truth. 

The first sob burst through your lips before you reached your bedroom and even Mowgli stayed silent, sensing the heartbreak in the air. 

You would give yourself the weekend to cry. To mourn the hope that you held thinking this would actually work out. You would go to work on Monday with your head held high. 

And then after the ASP event, you’d book a flight home. 

For good. 

What do you think about Before We Go? Do you like it?

Chefs kiss 😘

Possibly the Best

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: Andy accidentally falls asleep before you on your wedding night.

Warnings: None

Word count: ~700

a/n: Back on my Andy bullshit (jk I was never off it) 🫶

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

Finally making it to the door of your suite, it feels like you can't find your keycard fast enough. Who knew you could shove so much shit into a tiny clutch on your wedding day.

All you can think about as you eventually hold it up to the lock is getting out of your dress. It wasn't until you got on the elevator a few minutes ago that you had the chance to realize how uncomfortable you are, wanting nothing more than to take a deep breath after all day without the tight material constricting you.

There's also your husband though... Maybe he's the one thing you want more than that.

He was able to sneak away a couple minutes earlier than you as your goodnights to your lingering family dragged on.

He left with a teasing whisper in your ear, telling you he'd be waiting and ready for you once you finally made it up.

But walking into the room, you’re not met by him. It’s quiet as you look around. You expected him to be at the door, waiting impatiently for the moment to have you alone for the first time today.

“Andy,” you call out without a response.

It's faint snores that finally get your attention as you tiptoe closer to the bedroom. You let out a quiet laugh seeing him on the bed, sleeping in his tux. You can tell he didn't mean to doze off if he made no effort to actually get comfortable.

Dropping your purse and your shoes–that you rid yourself of hours ago–onto the floor, you silently make your way to the side of the bed. Leaning over him, you can tell he's already beginning to stir, but you press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Babe,” you whisper.

Peeking an eye open, his initial reaction is to sit up, but you're in his way.

“Oh shit.” His words turn into a yawn. “Baby–”

“It’s okay,” you laugh, keeping a hand on his chest to let him stay laying there as you sit on the edge of the bed next to him.

“I just sat down for a breather.” He rests a hand on top of yours, rubbing his eyes with his other. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you promise, shooting him a faux stern look for having to repeat yourself. “We don't have to do anything, but you have to help me out of my dress.”

He chuckles at the exasperated groan you let out as you muster the energy to stand up, tugging on his hand to bring him up to sit behind you.

“Well, what the–” He laughs a little and you feel his fingers running along the center of your back. “Where the hell is the zipper?”

“It’s an invisible zipper, Andy,” you sigh, restless as you stand between his legs. “I would have left you sleep, but I'm trapped in this thing without you.”

“Oh, there we go,” he says softly, seamlessly pulling it down once he finds it.

You don't even take the dress all the way off, collapsing on his lap with a breath of relief from just the zipper being undone.

“You're such a good husband,” you tease, tapping his cheek with your hand, giving him a quick kiss before laying your head on his shoulder.

“It’s only been eight hours,” he snorts.

“A good eight hours.”

“Yeah it was,” he smiles. “Possibly the best. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The silence you share is welcome after all day. It felt like every time you tried to enjoy a moment together, there were eyes on you or it wasn't long until you were pulled in opposite directions by your drunk friends.

Thinking about it, you instinctively hold him tighter.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, dear wife?”

You shake your head the best you can as you nestle your face closer to his neck. “No.”

“Then come here.” He lays back, pulling you down with him so you’re on top of him. The movement takes you by surprise, eliciting a yelp from you. “I'll show you what I was waiting for.”

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

Tag list: @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21

Cole gives me nice, sweet, caring, healthy, loveable, trustworhty boyfriend vibe. (Far far away from that walking redflag Chris Evans)

I am actually LOWKEY excited for this movie and sweet little Cole!

Cole is the type of boyfriend who....

You say you liked flowers but he doesn’t know what kind so he buys you 5 different types then shows up at your door with them

"I didnt know which kind you liked so I brought all the white ones cause you were wearing white a lot lately... some of them have pink though because I know that's your favourite colour but not hot pink more subtle pink, anyways let me know which is your favourite for next time."

He wont let your shoes touch the puddle so picks you up and carries you over it

Buys you tickets to a concert to some random band because one time you sung to their song on the radio at the top of your voice

Remembers how you like your coffee even though its a very specific complex order that not even Baristas get right all the time

Makes your bed for you but doesn’t half ass it like actually knows how you like the pillows arranged and does it to perfection

Lets you use his wrist to swatch lipsticks at Sephora

Carries around tissues because you know you have allergies so when you sneeze he can pull them out of his back pocket at any time

Holds your hair while you throw up after a big night, rubbing your back in soft circles.

"Better in then out, let it all out honey... hey... hey its ok... yeah you still look pretty."

Lets you lay your head on him even if it's uncomfortable for him he refuses to move or get up knowing you're comfortable

"This okay?" You look up at him through heavy eyelids.

"Perfect." He smiles down at you.

They come to other people's page and tell them how to manage it?! Wow...

OH I KNOW HONEY

How are you? You ok?💟

I'm ok! Just exhausted and burnt out but going on vacation to refresh cause I havent had a break in agggeeesss but thank you gorgeous 💕☘️ I know you're waiting on my stories and I'M SO SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING but thank you so much for your patience and continued love.

How do you do?

HI, could you write about frank adler being a single (again) uncle and meets a new female bartender, reader in his usual bar. Both of them hit it off and started dating for about two months. frank introduced her to his niece, mary

Put it on my Tab

Making his way into his usual, Fergs, on a quiet Thursday night, Frank didn’t expect anything different. Place still looked the same; dimly lit with neon bar signs covering the walls and the smell of old beer. It felt like a second home, predictable, familiar and warm (due to the fact that they haven’t gotten that goddamn AC fixed). He settled onto the counter, head lowered waiting for his usual to appear magically in front of him like always.

“What can I getcha?” The voice wasnt from the usual gritty bar manager. For one it was feminine, young and perky. 

Frank couldn’t help his eyebrows raising at the sight of you. Sure they’ve hired pretty girls before but they usually didn’t last the week trying to keep up with demand while also hindering the advances of regulars. So how a beautiful <your hair colour> in a white tank top and denim short shorts was still here was a mystery to Frank. 

“Umm yeah hi can I just get umm.. just a..” he stumbled on his words trying to avoid your questioning gaze. 

“A beer?”

“Yeah that.” Frank gave a flat smile.

You undid the cap on the edge of the bar, Frank holding out his hand expectantly but you held the bottle away from him, holding it just above your shoulder. Raising an eyebrow expectantly.

“Please?” Frank said hesitantly.

“And…” You slowly inched it towards the bar top. 

“Thank you.” It was becoming increasingly clear to him how you have survived here. You don’t put up with shit.

You placed the beer in front of him “Manners..” you trailed 

“Maketh a man. William Horman.”

“Yes.” You smiled down at him from the bar.

“What are you doing here?” He said outwardly.

“Working.”

“Oh I see that. I meant what is someone like YOU doing HERE?" 

“What is someone like me… exactly?” You placed your palms on the bar, leaning into him closer. 

He took a long swig of his drink. Sighing in contentment at the taste.

“Too smart to be a bar maid, too classy for Coors beer and way too pretty for a place like this.” 

You looked around at the empty bar with a few drunk stragglers. Taking the beer from his hands you took a long swing. “I am never too good for Coors beer.” 

Frank let out a low whistle “That’s good to know.” 

“I’m Frank by the way.” He held out his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N.” You shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” He smirked

“Likewise.” You bit your bottom lip. 

“So when do you get off?” He smirked devilishy.

“So she’s not like other kids.” Frank looked over at you, peering over his sunglasses.

“What do you considered “other kids”…” 

“She spends a lot of time with adults so she talks a bit differently.”

You shrug “I’m sure she’s fine, she’s got a good uncle.” He grabbed your hand, placing it under his as he moved the gear shift. 

“She just takes a while to warm up to people so I just don’t want you to be discouraged.” 

“Frank, she doesn’t bite.” You waved him off. 

“No she grew out of that 2 years ago.” He joked with you.

He pulled into the driveway of their humble abode. Paint falling off the rackety old porch framed by the half dead grass from a hot blazing summer. You loved it. It was Frank, imperfect yet homey.

You got out of his truck and waited for him to lead towards the screen door with an obvious hole that had been scratched out by a cat desperate to decide when and where they go.

Hearing the sound of car doors being shut, Roberta made her way out. Taking one look at you, she stopped in her tracks, placing a

hand on her hip. 

“Well my goodness you are prettier than he described.”

“Why thank you Miss Taylor.” You let her embrace you in warm tight hug.

Her chin resting on your shoulder, she raised her eyes in excitement at Frank behind you. 

“Alright break it up you two.” He pulled you back into his side. 

“Thanks for watching her.” He gave the woman a warm smile. 

“Anytime, now I gotta go but it was lovely to meet you and hey don’t take what she says to heart… she takes a while to warm up.”

“I’ve been told! Hopefully this goes well and I’ll be seeing more of you.” She gave you and Frank both a quick kiss to the cheek. 

“You ready?” He whispered in your ear as you both stood in front of the door separating you from your make or break meeting.

You readjusted your bag strap on your shoulder, taking a deep breath “Ready.” With that he pushed open the screen. 

“Mary… I’m home. We’ve got company.” 

You both walked into the living room where the young girl sat, mindlessly stacking lego blocks on the floor, ignoring the calls of her uncle. 

“Hi Mary, I’m-“ You started to introduce yourself in your high pitched little kid voice. 

“Did he pick you up at Fergs?” She said dryly. 

“Close! I work at Fergs.” You gave a tense smile.

“That’s a stark change isn’t it Frank?”

“Mary!” He scolded.

You placed your hand on his shoulder mouthing it’s okay as you walked a little closer towards her. 

“Frank said you’re pretty smart.”

“I’ve gotten “baby Einstein” once or twice.” She replied, not looking up from the floor. 

“I was thinking more Hypatia.” She stopped her movements, looking up at you for the first time quizzically. 

“Whose that?”

“Oh you don’t know who Hypatia was?” You said in faux shock. 

She shook her head. 

“Huh… well for one she was a girl…” You stalked towards her, plopping down on the mat beside her. 

Pulling your legs up to your chest, hugging your knees. Her lack of running away was a good start so you went on…

“She was a mathematician in ancient Egypt back in a time were only men were allowed to do math.”

“Women can do math too!” She piped up, brows furrowed. 

“Oh I agree! Well she figured out a way for ships to navigate and I think I have… oh here it is!” You reached into your bag, pulling out a thick book on the ancient academic that you had secretly brought for her. 

It was brand new with a glossy cover and you threw it around your trailer a couple of times beforehand to make it look worn and read. You had read it of course but maths wasn’t really your thing, the history of women on the other hand… you were always down. 

“Can I please see?” She looked up at you with doe eyes, biting her bottom lip, desperate to flick through the pages.

“Yeah you can have it. I already read it. I’m onto Beyond Good and Evil now.” 

“By Friedrich Nietzsche?” She smiled at the common interest found.

You nodded, eyes widened at her. 

She looked up at Frank; “I like this one.” 

He leaned against the doorway, watching you two in amazement. No one got Mary besides him and Roberta but now he’s starting to think that no one had tried like you. No one bothered to listen when he’d tell them that talk of Barbies and pink nail polish didnt get her interested. That she was pulling thick academia books from the shelf at age 4, desperate to absorb the knowledge they held. How she wanted to be talked to like an equal or better yet be given the materials to have what she so desperately craved. Have someone listen, guide her, talk to her as she was and not try and dumb things down. And here you were, making her eyes light up and hanging on your every word. 

“Good. I’ll leave you two to it then I guess.” He said simply tapping the frame before making his way into the kitchen to prepare his two girls a snack. Smiling like an idiot. Yeah you were a keeper. 

Miss you💟

I miss you too 🥹

…And writing but I’m going on a 2 week vacation (like a real one with sun and pina coladas) so I’ll get to clear my head and maybe when I’m back I’ll feel good enough to write again (which is the plan)

Sorry babies, it hasn’t been just Chris being a ho a lot of other personal stuff came up with work etc and your girl is BURNT OUT.

But I still ❤️ you all

Well you should stop posting fan fics about chris evans if you hate on him you dumb bitch.

I’m allowed to call him out on his bullshit (which is not hating) and still fantasize about him 😘 you’re an adult. You should know fantasy Chris from reality Chris

Part 2 of bubba? Would love to see more of protective!chris 🥺

Bubba Part 2: Bump

A/N: Everyone grasp your loins i'm back... lol and a funny update after being bullied by my roommates they found this account and followed it to "keep tabs" so everyone say heyyy to my inner circle who I recommend sleep with one eye open 🥰

"Stay beside me yeah?" Chris held you tightly, staring at you intently as he helped you out of the car.

"I can barely walk, you don't have to worry about me pulling a runner." Chris gave a small smile at your light hearted joke.

At this stage, you were 6 months pregnant and HUGE. The last thing Chris wanted to do is shove you in front of a thousand cameras and screaming crowds but you insisted you two go. You desperately wanted to get out of the house and do yourself up after living in sweatpants.

Chris couldn't deny despite the heartburn, oily hair, night sweats and cankles you were glowing and looked absolutely stunning tonight to the point he had to hold himself back from giving you another baby.

"We can go home at anytime." He rubbed the small of your back lightly, fidgeting with the top layer of your dress.

You two approached the interview platform, Chris easing you gently yet forcing your whole body weight on him as he helped up the short 2 inch step.

You smiled at him endearingly as you approached the report. He wasn’t necessarily a bad reporter he just was a bit too enthusiastic for you and Chris’s liking not to mention a little invasive both figuratively and physically.

Chris knowing this placed himself between you and the reporter, hand encasing yours between you two.

“And here we have Chris, Y/N and the bump..” He outstretched his hand, verging towards your bump but not before the ever alert Chris, pushed his hand away promptly

“Absolutely not.” Chris said sternly, eyeing the report with challenging eyes.

He laughed nervously, moving his hands back into his pockets.

“Well do you guys know the gender yet?”

“We do!” You both said proudly, at the same time.

“Well how about giving us a W News exclusive huh?”

“Yeah no we plan to keep that information between us and our family for the time being.”

“Oh come on is Captain America having a strong boy or beautiful girl… let it out.”

Chris was getting annoyed at this point, so you gave his forearm a soft squeeze.

“I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl and either can be beautiful and strong at the same time. I’m just grateful for a so far healthy baby and wife. Thanks for your questions.”

You smiled up at him as he led you off the platform, reaching his limit on stupid questions.

Moving off the platform you let out a groan of pain. Chris’s eyes shot to your face concern written all over his;

“What’s wrong? You hurt?”

“No no.” You waved him “My feet are killing me.”

“I did tell you not to wear them.” You glared at his hindsight for now was not the time to play the “I told you so” game.

“It’s called an OUTFIT Christopher.” You spat at him through gritted teeth.

“Sorry sorry… here take ‘em off.” He crouched down, pulling up his slacks slightly to get on one knee.

“I can’t just do that in public!”

“You’re pregnant, you can get away with anything.” He brushed you off.

Chris lifted up the skirt of your dress, slowly easing your foot out of the shoes.

You sighed with relief as he gave your feet a quick massage in his large hands.

“Better right?”

“So much better. Thank you.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Holding the heels in his hands, you walked the rest of the event barefoot and in way less pain.

Welcome to Boston

NO MINORS ALLOWED

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

tw: smoking weed, fluff, reader is 21+

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

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

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

"Babe, you're not cold?"

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

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

"There's nothing to watch."

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

"Is there a difference?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I thought you were getting a snack."

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

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

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

"What? What did you do?"

"Nothing... yet."

"Yet?"

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

"What did you find?"

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

"Oh you just happened to find that?"

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

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

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

"And what is 'Boston Weed'?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know I do.”

“Wanna get a snack?”

“We have to go to the store.”

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

“It stopped raining. Should we walk?”

“Wait. Didn’t I say we should walk?”

“No you said you were hungry.”

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

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

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

“I can’t.”

“What?” Chris asked looking down at you.

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

“Do what, baby?”

“Move.”

“Ha! You can’t move?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to carry you?”

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

“Babe.”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

“Yes. Yes we did.”

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

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

Me in bed watching Before We Go

For you @atoosa22 💕☘️

Headcanon ideas

.Super curious Chris about pregnancy that is sooo cute and annoying for his pregnant wife

.Chris start to cheer his gf up.how?with stupid cheesy pick up lines

Headcanon: Better Half

Loooveeeeee this!

"Why da face?" Chris walked in your shared bedroom, oreos in hand with one half way in his mouth.

You rolled over dramatically, pulling the covers under your chin

"Just that work thing, I have to work with that lazy, mother-."

"Carol." He said flatly

"Yes! Carol! It's always Carol."

He plumped in the spot next to you.

"Hey honey..." He cooed.

"What." You sat up, moving next to him.

Twisting the oreo in his hand, he moved the frosted side in your direction.

"You're my better half." He said, showing a goofy grin.

You paused, staring at him with a flat expression, the corner of your lip creasing slightly, you couldn’t hold back the all out laughter.

"You're the cringiest person i have ever met." You gasped through laughs.

"Yeah but it worked to make my girl smile didn't it"

You grabbed the cookie half from him, shoving the whole thing in your mouth.

Maybe....no he did he wanted to hate himself

Warnings 18+ just incase sadness depression, unhappiness dissacosiation mentions of death, brief mention of a wife just being asleep sleeping next to her husband, I guess some self disctruction

Its a part of my Maybe series.....I've had this in my drafts for a while I finally decided to post it. It's not edited. Here's the first maybe

Tumblr

princess Oversear of the Universe

Maybe Iitterally pick whoever to fill the him. Warnings: a character death and some depression a lot of angst. 18+ just incase Do NOT re

He had used one of those apps to see what thier kids would like. And as he stared his thumb ran over the screen gently like if he was caressing his child's face he thought

"Maybe... maybe....."

"Maybe that life is over maybe its truly over. Maybe what we had is be is gone forever. The man I was is gone." He remembered her dragging him to a museum for a date but he only agreed because she really wanted to go. And he loved it. He liked no loved the look of pure adoration on her face as she studied the strokes and the shading. She studied the painting and he studied what he considered to be the truly beautiful work of art before him, her. Light and shadow That was her favorite thing to look at how everyone used diffrent colors to highlight and contour. Funny as he became a shadow of himself He went to a museum the other day. He wanted to love it he wanted so bad to love it. And he did love it the painting gthat is because it reminded him of her but he wanted so bad to love it like he did before. to turn and see her face next him , to try and get as close as she could. He longed for her to use him as a pole or tree to steady herself so she could use lean in as close as she could without falling past the line the museum didn't want people to cross. That what he loved . Thats what he wanted. But he wasn't that. He wasn't that man because he didn't have her. He realized he may just never be that man again. And he hated himself for it all, for not being there, for wanting her back for pretending to be someone else to get close to her.

Then he realized he is someone else. And he wanted to hate himself. He came to the conclusion he deserved to. Because by not being with there with her that night he destroyed her life too and everything she had and he knew she would hate him for ruining what she could have had in her life now. They could have had kids by now. She could have had so much more than what she has now and he knows how happy she was. He would see it each and every morning as he'd wake up before her and he loved the smile on her face as she slept. Especially when she slept his chest she would have the biggest smile as she slept

"She always looked so happy" he though and he wondered how much if that smile still remained. And how much of that smile he had taken from her.

He hated himself.

He really hated himself. And he wanted to... too... have a better reason because he hated a man who lost everything for nothing.

He wanted to be hated.

He wanted to be hated so he wasn't alone in his hate.

He did something he'd never do and made sure he'd be hated . He decided that man was dead and gone. Dead so she could live and he accepted that. And he wanted no trace of that man's idiotic self in him. So he did what they wanted. What he people wanted. He dated. He dated someone he never would someone he wouldn't even be in the same room with if things if his wife was still his.. and boy did he put himself into that part. He looked so happy in the photos but everyone he took he remembers thinking this is what I want I want to be hated and his face was happy when he did that. So happy. No one could know. No one would ever know the reason behind those smiles and looks of joy. It was simply a man who knew what he wanted and knew he was getting it.

Then he went on his Instagram account. He looked at the comments and was happy...happy he was hated as much as he hated himself. He then went o look at hers and he couldn't find it. He searched her name under followers and nothing came up. He went to his first he only used for family and then searched for her-he found her. She had blocked him

Now he really had lost her.

He slid off the couch onto the floor and cried he lost her.

He morned the man he left behind when he signed his sould away to the devil, no not the one who let her live but the one he was now tied to

He mourned her. She was now really lost. He knew. When she did something like thst she was angry sad upset hurt and held onto it like an elephant. And he knew what her thoughts would be seeing his face. He betrayed her. And he felt like shit but he wanted to. He wanted to.

Maybe one day she would forgive him.

Maybe one day he would- no no he would never forgive himself. He didn't want to. He had no right to. He made his bed, he dug his grave-and he was already covered with dirt on his head.

Maybe one day he would be or she would or something would change but he created a whole new man and he couldn't even bring himself to do the right thing. Maybe in another universe. He imaginer discussions with her but none of them he could find the words she would use to forgive him because he knew he wouldn't. He knew what her lines were and he crossed them

She was really not.... now it wasn't a maybe....

She was lost

But maybe he wasn't

Maybe......

Taglist

@nana1000night @sapphire-rogers @sparklybarbarianninja @patzammit @hawkeyes-queen @coltrainbat

kryptonite

Kryptonite

Pairing: Bouncer!Chris Evans x Exotic Dancer!Reader

Summary: Most men come into your club feeling like superman: completely invincible. Little do they know what lurks around the corner when their confident and entitled mindset convinces them to cross a line.

Warnings: The reader is put in an uncomfortable situation and touched without consent. The reader is threatened. Mild violence. Language. Mention of drugs and alcohol. Let me know if I missed anything :)

A/N: I'm not really a fan. But I've been in such a rut. I needed something to help get the gears turning and whipped this out. Hopefully you guys like it!

W/C: 1.9k

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are ALWAYS appreciated ❤  

time-for-a-lullaby masterlist  

I no longer have a taglist! Please give this page a follow @time-for-a-library​ and turn on notifications!

Two greedy hands clawed at your ass, fingernails biting into the soft skin. Your jaw clamped together as you masked your irritation with a sultry grin. “Oh, honey.” You shook your head, leaning back on your heels. “You can look…” You paused, reaching around him to press the concealed panic button just behind his greasy hair. “But you can’t touch.” 

You pushed off of the velvet couch to stand, thankful you could no longer feel his tiny dick pressed against you. The muscles in his jaw ticked, the heat in his eyes shifting from lust to rage.

It was always this kind of man who felt like the rules didn’t apply to him. He paid for a lap dance, yet felt entitled to the full package. For a measly $200, he assumed that you were his property. His to grab, his to kiss. Men like him had spent the last twenty-something years being coddled by mommy and told they were the most handsome on Earth with women and success at their fingertips when they were mediocre at best.  You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

Men like him thought less of people like you, yet paid and bragged about the services they received. 

Men like him sauntered into this club feeling as untouchable as Superman, thinking a measly $200 bought them the world. 

But if they were Superman, Chris was kryptonite. 

“I paid you,” He gritted out through clenched teeth. 

Your eyebrow shot up. “For a lap dance. Touching,” you explained, creating a little distance between the two of you and leaning against the back wall as if to emphasize your point, “is extra. Like we discussed.” 

His left eye twitched and your stomach churned nervously, your ears searching for the heavy footfall of Chris’s boots over the music. 

Chris was never too far away, but it was Saturday night after all. The club was packed, and the girls were busy. It wasn’t his fault if he was pulled away, dealing with another sleazy, washed-up Frat boy that couldn’t respect one simple rule. 

Still. 

You’ve seen the anger of a man like this and what they were capable of a little high or drunk and you had no desire to be on the receiving end. 

Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you did your best to feign nonchalance despite the way your heart rate kicked up behind your ribs at the twitch of this guy’s hand. 

After a few seconds of deep concentration, the inferno raging behind his hazel eyes was calm and still. A chill crawled down your spine like a spider scurrying away from the light and you did your best to control the shudder than ran through you. 

“Have a seat, sweetheart. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” There was an edge to his voice that told you his pleasantries meant absolutely nothing.

“That’s not how it works, sweetheart.” 

His jaw hardened and you steeled yourself, knowing Chris would be here in just a second. “I don’t really think you’re in the position to be arguing.” 

You quirked a brow and crossed your arms over your chest. “What exactly are you threatening?” 

This man had the audacity to smirk. Fucking men. You’d give anything to be able to walk around the world with the cockiness and sense of invincibility that an average-looking white man does. 

He relaxed back into the velvet couch, stretching his arms out across the top and spreading his legs, taking up as much space as he could. You thought that maybe he was trying to intimidate you but the sheer amount of armpit sweat soaking his shirt had you fighting off a laugh.

He lifted his hand in a lazy gesture to the empty room. “We’re alone. I paid you to perform a service.” His hazel eyes shifted over the dark, small room before returning to you. “No cameras. My word against yours. I think we both know how this ends.”  

Fighting against the snarl that threatened to curl your lip, you leveled him with a glare. “I think I know how this ends. I think you have no idea who you’re dealing with.” 

Your body relaxed and a satisfied smirk pulled at the corner of your mouth as Chris’s heavy steps thundered down the hall. “Good luck,” you winked, backing away from the door a few seconds before it was shoved open. 

Chris stood in the doorway, his eyes darkened with rage. They softened marginally as he did a once over to make sure you were okay, then turned back to the douchebag sitting on the couch who was now scrambling to his feet. “You threatened my girl?” 

Now was definitely not the time to be checking him out, but holy fuck. Chris stood in the doorway, biceps bulging against the thin black t-shirt. Black and grey tattoos swirled down his arms and tapered on his hands, your name was written in beautiful cursive lettering on the skin above his knuckles. 

He wore dark wash jeans that clung to his thighs and flared ever-so-slightly over his black boots, which were planted firmly in the threshold of this room. Chris wasn’t going to budge. And this asshole had no idea what he was doing when he threatened you. 

Frat Boy was wrong about not having cameras in the room. And it certainly didn’t help his case that the second you pressed the panic button, the audio from the room was fed into the small earpiece Chris wore. He could see and hear everything. 

Though knowing Chris, he didn’t give himself a second to view the footage from the camera. The second he knew you were in danger, he came running. 

The proof was in the way his chest heaved and the way his carotid pulsed angrily under the tattooed skin on his neck. He was protective of all the girls here at Dice, but your name tattooed on his skin meant something, and he would destroy anything in his path to make sure you were safe and okay. 

Asshole threw his hands up in the air as he stood, a small laugh bursting through your lips as his hands trembled. Your eyes dropped to his crotch momentarily, half expecting to find it wet by the way he shook in front of you. 

Not so tough now, are we?

“I– I– I wasn’t doing anything. Swear!” 

Chris rolled his eyes, the muscles in his jaw rippling as he fought to keep his cool. “We’re alone? No cameras. My word against yours?” He echoed the same words this man had just spewed with confidence only a moment ago. 

You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed, his lips opening and closing as he frantically tried to come up with a way out of this. “Look– I mean-” 

“No,” Chris interrupted his sputtering, stepping into the room further. Large, tattooed fingers clenched into a fist before relaxing again. “I’m one shitty explanation away from beating the shit out of you. So whatever you’re going to say, make it good.” 

You relaxed, leaning against the wall with raised eyebrows, waiting to hear whatever bullshit excuse he was concocting in his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Frat Boy whispered, shifting his eyes over to you. “I’m sorry.” 

Chris rolled his eyes, his muscles softening as he made his way over to you. His index finger lifted your chin, forcing your eyes away from the cowering asshole to the man who owned your heart. “You okay?” 

“I could’ve taken him, but I just got my nails done.” You winked, smiling softly. He had a way of reading you that even you couldn’t understand. So despite the fact that you were brushing this off, he could probably tell you were a little shaken up. 

It wasn’t always easy for Chris to see you working the floor or performing on stage, but he had learned over the years just how passionate you were about dancing and he would never ask you to stop over his own jealous feelings. He was confident in your love for him and never questioned how you felt. But he could never quite control his emotions in a situation like this. 

Anyone that messed with you had Chris seeing red. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. 

“I know, baby,” He grinned. “Stay put, I’ll be back in a second.” 

You nodded, and Chris’s finger dropped from your chin as he turned around, shielding you with his body. 

Chris had his back turned for less than thirty seconds and this guy was back to running his mouth. “Isn’t it bad practice to fuck your own girls?” He snapped. “It’s like a drug dealer. You don’t get high on your own supply.” 

His body stiffened, his back straightening as he reached out, snagging him by his collar. “You know what’s bad practice? Running your fucking mouth, asshole.” Chris shoved him into the wall by the door. “Reach into your wallet and tip my girl before I kick your fucking ass,” He growled. 

Asshole trembled in his grip, a shaky hand reaching down and pulling his wallet from his pocket. He thumbed through a few hundred dollar bills before holding them out to you. “There.” 

Chris shoved him against the wall again. “Say. Thank you."

“Thank you,” he said quietly, avoiding your amused gaze.

You snatched the money from his hand, shoving it into your bra. “My pleasure.” 

You could tell he was resisting the urge to mouth off, probably not used to being told no or put into his place. For good measure, you winked as Chris dragged him from the room by his shirt. 

Doing as you were told, you sat on the velvet couch, crossing your legs, and picking at your cuticles while you waited for Chris to return. Normally, you loved working long hours, but Chris’s protectiveness always stirred something deep in your belly and you wanted nothing more than to clock out and drag him home by his belt loops. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t get off until three and if you were here, Chris was here. 

A few minutes later, he appeared in the doorway again, his eyes raking over your body. “You sure you’re okay?” 

You nodded, standing and making your way over to him. “I’m okay.” 

Large hands gripped the barely covered skin on your hips, pulling you into his body. Chris slid his hands around to cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hands. “Positive?” 

You raised your hands, snaking them around his neck. “Positive.” 

His blue eyes softened as he did a slow perusal of your face like he was looking for a lie. “We can go if you want.” 

“Baby, I’m okay. Really. Just another entitled frat boy,” you shrugged. “Comes with the territory.” 

Chris’s eyes darkened. “It shouldn’t.”

“I agree.” You smiled softly. 

After a deep sigh, Chris released you from his grip. “Alright,” he maneuvered the two of you so you were in front of him as you walked out of the small, private room, “Get back to work.” 

You yelped as his hand smacked against your ass, his lips stretching into a devastating grin. “Love you, baby girl.” 

You smiled and made your way down the hall, back to the main floor of the club, swaying your hips just enough to hold his attention and torture his mind for the rest of the night as you walked away. The neon pink thong you wore left little to the imagination. “Love you, too!” You called over your shoulder, shooting him a wink and laughing at the pained expression on his face. 

He was in for a long night.

Miss you

🥺

Hi. Sorry for asking this again. When do you post Nick Vaughan series?

Haven’t posted it yet and its cause I haven’t even started! I’ve been so busy and exhausted and I’m going on holiday soon so it’s a lot going on. I’m sorry!! I’m working on it 💕🍀

Any news from WIP?

Huh?

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

Topher's ass is in time out till this 💩 show is over 😤

His character tho are different, they're not stupid as he is, so let's continue with them lol

Even about his carackter fic that they are not his stupid ass?! I was really waiting for that Nick vaughan fic. That sound so heartwarming and also that you decided it would be a serie

You’ve raised a good point. So for you, I will do characters 🥰 the series is gonna take a little though mama is tired 😴