#Chris Evans x black! ofc

[milknhonies]

Spirit of Christmas Past

Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: You are greeted by the Spirit of Christmas and he decides to confront your past and punish your stubborn behaviour.

Pairing: Chris Evans x f!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Manipulation, Dead Parents Description, Verbal Abuse, P in V sex, Rough Sex, Choking, Fingering, Humiliation, Heart Break, Ghosts, Swearing, Alcoholic Use, Classism.

Word Count: 9k

A/N: Please to all readers, understand I don't have a beta editor and I can miss some mistakes because most my typing is on the bus to work when I get the time to write. ALSO this is my attempt at the naughty or nice challenge using: 18. “If you didn’t want this, you’d behave.” @the-slumberparty an event challenge created by @navybrat817 & @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

12:59am 25th December 2023, New York City.

Among the nothingness of sleep, you could hear in the distance the sound of little bells jingling. You groaned, cracking your eyes open slowly. The sound was becoming more persistent and volumed.

It was freezing! The management still hadn’t fixed the heating system. You shivered and dug deeper into the duvet layers of your bed. You reached for your phone to check the time.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” you grumbled before rolling over onto your back. All memory of Marlene’s visit had disappeared from your mind.

You stared up at the plain ceiling. Your eyes grew hazy while your mind dissociated into thought. A single tear rolled from your eye.

God, you hated Christmas so much. You tried ignoring all the years. You tried pushing back the pain. You tried thinking about your jobs and tasks still incomplete. You tried not to think about how lonely you were, how unfulfilled you felt deep down. A mean tug at your chest made you hiss.

The ceilings image morphed into spots and shapes of different kinds...and when you chose to focus your eyes you could see the flecks of shadow clashing with light, wrapping and drawing out the shape of a person walking towards you.

You leant back and felt the mattress still under you. What you were seeing had to be part of some strange dream. You concluded you’d fallen back to sleep.

Gravity didn’t apply in this scenery.

The ceiling opened up, glowing in a soft calming light. The figure kept walking it’s way towards you. The closer he got the more you could acknowledge his face and good looks. He was lean and clean shaven, a depiction of youth. His hair was the colour of dark roasted chestnuts. He wore a white sweater.

‘Woah, what a weird dream...but look at how handsome he is.’

As if he heard your thoughts loud and clear he smiled with sparkling white teeth. Still unsure of reality, you lifted your hand up high to the ceiling. He did the same. He reached out with his palm out.

Your finger tips touched and you gasped at how warm and inviting he felt. Your mind ran filthy. You bit your bottom lip before lurching off the bed to the ceilings opening window into the handsome man’s arms. You swore you knew him. Something about that smile. You couldn’t place it though. Butterflies filled your insides.

His eyes were a blue that matched mountains. His cheeks sharp and strong but that smile was ageless.

You shyly bit the tip of your finger and giggled, “Kiss me.”

He cupped your face and accepted your advance without hesitation. His lips leant forward and met your starved mouth.

He was slow, sweet like vanilla. He pulled away and nibbled at your lips, sucking and licking with you. He was perfect. You were the first to pull away, panting and mewling. Your body rubbed up against his again. One of his arms cupped your back while his other hand cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

You felt his muscles, his hot body. His arms tightly held you, protecting you from the world and claiming you as his.

In your head this all made sense. Deep down you had met before, but where...God where had you met him? It ached not knowing fully.

Pulling away you moaned, “Fuck me. Please.”

You took his ginormous hands and pressed them against your breasts. Only a thin piece of satin separated your skin to his skin. You knew he’d be able to feel your nipples pebbling under his palms.

You kissed and nibbled along his jaw, panting, “I’m not wearing anything underneath.” And that was true. You underwear had gone missing after you had played with your toy while imagining a rape play scene. You looked up at him with doe eyes fluttering. Your fingers pinched the hem of your night gown. He smirked, his fingers danced up your thighs, and by your surprise....he forced your hem down.

His eyes burned bright blue, almost glowing as the world around you both faded black. His head shook lightly at you, his wet lips parted, and he whispered into the open air, “Be not afraid Y/N as I shine the light on your past.”

Your head jerked back, your eyes squinted, ‘What the fuck?’

The question filled your mind and escaped through your lips, “Who are you?”

The handsome stranger rubbed his thumbs into your palms and said with heralding tones, “I am he who sees past, present and future tidings upon the grandeur of Christmas day. I am The Spirit of Christmas. But you…may call me Chris.”

“Chris?” You blinked and rebuffed in an fit of laughter. You shook your head, disbelieving and feeling that heat of anger rise.

“The Spirit of Christmas,” you cackled, “I really did have too much to drink to be having weird dreams like this. You kiss me and tell me that you’re some mystic being?”

His lips flicked up, bemused, “You asked for that kiss, I merely obliged such a sweet request.”

Humiliation bloomed in the pit of your belly. You felt hot in the face and grit your teeth.

His thumbs ran over the pulse of your wrists, his eyes were crowned in a false innocence.

Your eyes glowered in seconds, “Go fuck yourself, Chris,” you fumed.

You shoved his hands away and turned around trying to imagine something else, hoping the dream would change or you would wake up. You stumped short and jumped back as your path was blocked by a horrific sight. A naked woman in the darkness, chained and kneeling at your feet. Marlene.

The memories flood back into your mind. Her ethereal form floating your bed with her frozen heart and warning words. Except she was no ghost in this form. She was hauntingly thin like a skeleton, the loos skin of her belly and breasts hung down, her skin was discoloured and sickly, her cheeks hallowed and her hair thin, balding. Her teeth were black, gums rotten, her chest made this awful whistling noise as she struggled to breath. Her finger nails were red and cracked. She was chained to the floor. She looked up at you with sad bloodshot eyes, shaking her head at you.

“Go with him Y/N, he is your last chance…” she shivered as if a cold wind had prickled her flesh. Her head hung low.

His heavy hand laid down bearing weight onto your shoulder. You gasped and looked back at him with fear. His face appeared mournful as he acknowledged Marlenes decrypted state. Those blue eyes you were enchanted by moments ago sent an icy chill down your spine as his attention turned to you.

“Come,” he softly beckoned, “Let this soul pay it’s penance…”

You licked your dry lips and tried to keep your cool without revealing your fear. You nodded, not chancing your voice breaking in an exchange. His palm held back out to you. You glared at him. With defeat and the tiniest tremble in your fingers, you finally tucked your hand into his, feeling his warm fingers wrap around you, you had to admit, it felt nice. He squeezed it softly and walked, guiding you away from the living corpse of Marlene’s soul.

After some time of walking away until Marlenes image disappeared.

The shadows felt literally heavy, weigh you down in what felt like a fight against gravity. You recalled a time you trudged through the snow up to your waist. It felt like this, yet there was only silence.

His hand was still wrapped around yours, tugging you forward mercilessly.

You felt like you could have tripped in the black abyss.

“Sp-spirit?” you finally dared to ask, “Spirit…where are you taking me?”

And then he stopped. You could hear his sigh and felt the air around you grow colder. This sexy dream had quickly turned into a foreboding nightmare. A flame of light flickered in the palm of his other hand, it was like supernatural magic.

He pulled you in closer and his other hand came around and slapped your backside.

You shrieked and tried shoving him back, “Ow! What the hell! That hurt!”

He chortled, “Yes, the past can hurt, especially yours,” his finger scratched under your chin, “But it can also heal if you learn from it.”

The floor beneath your feet disappeared and you both plummeted into the darkness again. You screamed as your belly lifted up into your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt the spirit hug you tighter, your fingers desperately squeezed the wool of his sweater.

And then the falling stopped, and your screaming died down into violent pants. He still held you and then placed you softly down onto the ground below your feet.

His smile was gentle, “Here we are.”

05:00pm Christmas Eve, 1999, Texas, Austin.

Finally, you dared to open your eyes. Your hands were still clawed into his thick sweater when you looked around at your surroundings. It was a living room inside a trailer home. Red tinsel had been taped to walls. A small Christmas tree stood in the corner between the space of a couch and a basinet. Poorly drawn pictures of baubles, stars, Santa and elves had been scattered over the floor.

‘Ugh.’ Christmas decorations…but no, hold on…you knew this place.

And a soft hum of Jingle Bells filled your ears. You gasped. You knew who it belonged to in an instant. You let go of the Spirit and looked behind you.

A woman in the kitchen was opening a packet of biscuits, placing each one on a plastic plate. She was younger than you while sharing a likeness in appearance. The home smelt like gingerbread while she began to pour a cup of milk. She placed the cup on the small coffee table, sighing as she ran her palm over the swell of her protruding belly under her dress.

“M-mom?” you said shakily, “Mom is that…oh god mom! I missed you so much.”

You raced forward with your arms spread wide, seeking to hug her. As you closed your arms around her, you stumbled and fell hard to the floor onto your knees.

“Fuck!” you hissed and heard the mocking snicker come from the Spirit.

You twisted your body and sat back on your hands. You looked up and back at your mother, confused and dazed. Her feet were not on top of you, standing on you, but rather, she was standing inside and walking through you. You jumped in fright and crawled backwards, watching how she walked through you transparently.

“M-mom?” you whimpered, scared and confused. When she didn’t answer your voice filled with panic, “Mom!”

The Spirit, holding his hands behind his back chuckled, looking between you both.

You shouted, “What the hell is wrong with her!?”

His laughter pulled back and he hummed with a smile, “There’s nothing wrong, she can’t see you or hear you. These are but shadows of things that have been. They have no consciousness of us.”

She totally ignored you as she lowered herself onto the couch.

The Spirit held his hand out to you to help you up from the floor. You slapped it away and used the wall for stability. He didn’t appear offended or surprised by your viperous habits. You shoved past him and fell to your knees in front of her.

“Mom?” you said a little more gently.

You reached out to touch her shoulder. Your fingers went straight through her. Your eyes watered. She looked up from her belly and her lips spread into her perfect smile. Her eyes glittered, “Honey, can you please grab the cookies for Santa?”

Your face lit up and you nodded desperately, scooting back off your knees to fetch the cookies from the small kitchenette, but before you could step forward, you heard the tiny squeak of a child, “Okay, mommy!”

And from the corner of your eye you saw her... next to the tree was a little girl in a plaid dress and pig tails with plaid scrunchies, laying on her belly, kicking her feet back in forth with a crayon in her little chubby hand scribbling a poor drawing of a reindeer. It looked more like a cow with antlers.

“Is that…”

The little girl crawled to her feet and skipped to the kitchen, she looked so small compared to the plate she carried back to the living room and placed it onto the coffee table proudly put the beside the milk.

You stood up and took a small step back. You bumped into the Spirits chest, “Is that me?”

He laid his hand on your lower back. He watched you watching your much younger self.

He hummed, “Yes, you were seven years old here I believe.”

‘Yes, just before Caroline was born.”

Your mom leant forward and grabbed the little girl by the waist, tugging her back and peppered kisses all over her small giggling face while her fingers tickled her sides until she begged her to stop.

“Love you my little troublemaker,” she whispered against the tiny cheek.

“I love you too mommy,” you and your younger self said in sync. This, the Spirit noted with a calm expression. He walked around the room. The smaller girl version of yourself ran through him as he perched himself on the arm of couch and cocked his head at the drawings scattered along the floor.

“You had talent, you know?” he mused.

A slam of the front door made you jump. Your father with a big welcoming grin came home shortly after. The little girl cheered excitedly, running off to show him the drawing she drew for him. He picked her up and threw her in the air before catching her again despite the disapproving look your mother gave him.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look!” the little girl said giving him the picture, “Merry Christmas!”

He laughed with pure mirth and delight, his eyes squinted at the image, and he nodded.

You smirked; he had no fucking clue what the kid version of you had drawn.

“It’s beautiful babygirl, it’s ah…ah…”

He glanced over at your mother who mouthed the word back, “Reindeer.”

His eyes widened and his voice lilted, “A reindeer! Just for me!? Thankyou sweetheart,” he kissed her cheek, “I can’t wait to show all my friends this at work.”

He placed her safely down on the floor and walked over to your mother before sitting on the couch beside her. He put the picture on the coffee table and leant in to kiss his wife. Child you turned away and stuck out her tongue, in total disgust because ‘boys kissing girls was gross!’

“And how’s mommy been?” your father purred, laying a hand on her belly, his thumb lazily rubbed back and forth.

“Tired,” she groaned, “Little peanut is coming any day now. I can feel her kicking my rib cage, I think she’s planning her escape and wants to rocket out,” she breathed hard, her hand softly laced into her, holding it over the spot where your baby sister was kicking her feet.

You chewed your bottom lip and glanced at the Christmas Spirit who was grinning at the little girl in her pig tails and plaid.

You felt strange. And the strangeness was uncomfortable. Nausea filled your tummy.

“If this is a memory of just the past, “ you started wobbly, “Does that mean...everything is the same as it once was?”

“Yes, that’s right,” acknowledged the Spirit.

You smirked, “Good.” You twisted around on your heel and marched down the hallway that connected to your tiny bedroom.

A small surprised noise escaped you at seeing how pink and purple everything was coloured. On the walls was a my little pony poster. On your floral bed covers was your favourite Bratz doll. You sat down on the tiny bed and sighed before burying your face into your hands.

You tried sneezing. You tried slapping your face. You even got up and started doing jumping jacks. You would do anything to try and wake yourself up! A tiny knock broke your concentration, and you gasped coming face to face with the Spirit of Christmas. He was leaning against the doorway, holding back his laughter.

You sneered at him and sat back on the bed, panting softly. You tried remembering his name; calling him Spirit felt tedious.

“Chris was it?” you spat mockingly, “Is that because your name's Christmas?”

He dug his hands into his pockets, his smile unfaltered, “Nah, I just liked the name, it fits. My real name you wouldn’t be able to say because it hasn’t been said by the tongue of man.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yea okay whatever,” you dismissed sourly, “So, what the fuck is this? Huh? Is this some kind of sick game, are you trying to hurt me?”

Your throat grew tight. You couldn’t believe what was happening and why of all people this was happening to you. What did he even want? Was this just some insane plot to blackmail you?

“Well, guess what,” your chin jerked out at him, “I’m not scared, I’m not hurt. In fact I’m thrilled!” you showed off your laughter, forced from your lungs.

His smile softened, “Ah, but why is your lips trembling? And...what’s that I see?”

He took a large step forward and stood above you. You laid back, flinching at his hand reaching down to you face. Your heart thudded loudly.

His finger was hot on your cheek, it rolled up and brushed your skin. He pulled back the finger, rolling it into his knuckle and moved it between your eyes to show you something

On his finger was a drop of moisture.

“A tear?” he whispered, “What ever for?”

Your face felt hot and you blinked away the others that escaped your lashes, you sucked in a deep breath and rubbed your nose.

You let out a fake nervous laugh, “Please, you think I’m crying? Have you not seen how dusty this house his? I’m just having allergies.”

Little did you know, the Spirit could see beyond your lies.

He sat down beside you on your bed and placed his large hand on your knees.

You felt vulnerable. You didn’t want him here, you didn’t want to be here. And what was worse was his silence. He did not speak for a long while. The only noises were the sounds of the little girl and her parents in the living room.

You sighed and looked at the floor. You missed this point in your life. Things were simpler. You were so oblivious to the world and it’s harms.

“Your father sounds incredibly proud,” The Spirit said, his thumb ran over your skin.

Your eyes fluttered and you nodded.

“Did you know he told you the truth? About your picture?”

You eyed him cautiously.

He snapped his fingers and your bedroom faded into an office space. You were sitting on a dark oak desk. Seeing the boxy computer with twistable speakers struck you with nostalgia.

11:00am 26th December, 1999, Texas, Austin.

Your dad came through the office door, holding a piece of paper. Your picture.

He pinned it to a cork board and one of his colleagues that followed him in jokingly asked, “What’s with the Picasso cow?”

Your dad huffed back, “Hey man, it’s a reindeer and for your information, my daughter made it for me. And I’m lucky to have it. What did your kids get you?”

The coworker snorted and muttered under his breath, “A phone call asking about Child support, always check if the condom is ripped my friend.”

The two men left, bantering between each other.

You looked at the photo of your dad, your mom, seven year old you and a baby Caroline. It was a Polaroid taken in the hospital. Your mom had little Caroline just before the new year. You all looked so happy. You loved being a big sister, you couldn’t stop leaving baby Caroline alone, eager for her to grow up and become your best friend. Were there times she annoyed you? Yes, she was your sister after all. But Caroline had a heart of gold.

The Spirit touched the photo and asked with mirth, “Such a beautiful family...whatever happened?”

You didn’t answer. You slid off the desk and marched out of the office door only to somehow walk right back inside...you gasped and turned back around but when you opened the door to leave it was like staring into a mirroring space.

You poked your head out of the office only for it to be poking back inside through the same door.

It was the strangest paradox that you had come to find.

The Spirit sucked his teeth and shook his head, “Yea, funny that...so here’s the deal...you are going to follow my rules.”

‘Asshole doesn’t know what a deal is.’

He stood away from the cork board and sat down in your father’s rolling desk chair, stacking his feet up onto the wood loudly.

Your hands protectively wrapped around yourself. His pupils seemed to expand and shrink quickly like a cat. Your skin crawled.

“What rules?” You scoffed, “Are these a part of your test?”

He nodded once, “Yes. See for this whole thing to work, you have to comply and participate...meaning,” he shoved away from the desk and launched from the chair to walk fast towards you, causing you to walk backwards and hit the wall behind you, his hand grabbed and squeezed your jaw, from his teeth he seethed, “When I ask a question.. you answer it. Or I could just leave you here...forever.”

Your eyes watered, your chest heaved sporadically, “L-leave me here?”

His eyes fluttered, “Oh I’m sorry, you didn’t think this would have consequences?” His nose pressed to yours as he remarked, “Your little friend Marlene is stuck haunting your apartment for that reason. She’s stuck in a loop in which she can never escape. She gets to watch you everyday moving into her apartment and moving all her possessions around. I could leave you here and do the same. I could let you re-watch your father hang up your picture for eternity.”

His bright blue eyes darkened almost totally black. At that point you couldn’t tell if he was a good spirit or an unholy one.

You swallowed hard with a whimper and squeezed shut your eyes. His hot breath tickled your ear.

“I can be merciful...so...” his thumb rubbed over your bottom lip, peeking out from your eyes you thought he might kiss you, “Let’s try again...”

When he released you and turned back to the cork board he clicked his fingers. You collapsed from the wall to your knees, too weak and shaky to hold you up after his dominant spell. Piles of work paper flew around the room, around his head, his eyes raced over the pages, the words turned glowing gold as he read over them with his supernatural powers.

“Your family looked stable enough for their poor income. You lived a decent childhood...” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes hard and demanding, “What happened that changed it all?”

You bowed your head cowering as you whispered, “You already know.”

The papers that swirled in a storm around him floated softly down to the floor in front of you. The ink of the printed words began morphing into swirling shapes and colours.

The Spirit said, “I’d like it if you told me. That’s how this works. We analyse what really happened compared to what you think happened.”

Your eyes stared at the colours in the ink rise, painting the image of a snow covered alley way from nightmares years ago. You gasped. Your mother, you and your sister were all walking down from the entrance. You clenched the front of your nightgown and desperately blabbered into begging. Tears ran down your face. It didn’t take much effort knowing what was to come.

“Please don’t make me watch it.”

You tried to move the papers away but the pages fought back in nasty stinging paper cuts.

Your covered your face and eyes before hearing the mystic being bellow, “Put your hands down!”

Half screaming you sobbed, “No, please! I can’t do it! Please!”

You stood up on your feet and threw yourself into him. He did not hold you and let you fall at his feet. He did crouch down and rub both his thumbs over your snot covered lip.

“Please,” you choked, his finger pressed to you mouth. He shook his head and softly hushed you. He cupped the back of your neck and moved his mouth to ghost along your lips.

You hiccuped and opened your mouth, waiting for him to just conquer a kiss. He almost did with how his tongue tickled your lips and teeth when he icily repeated, “Dont forget I can leave your here. And you can watch it over and over and over. Be a good girl. Tell me what happened.”

He sat on the floor and tugged you into his arms and lap. You buried your face into his neck and hiccupped again.

“C-caroline was nine and I was sev-seventeen...Mom took us Christmas shopping. We were gonna buy something for Dad. A watch. A really fucking nice watch because dad had a big promotion in New York coming up...on our way back home, a drunken asshole with a broken bottle threatened to kill us if we didn’t give him our bags. We complied and mom made sure to step in front of us. He got angry because it wasn’t a Rolex...he then...”

You broke down again and clenched Chris’ white sweater tightly. His fingers raced up and down your spine slowly and tempered, hushing you until you managed to start talking again.

“What did this man do?”

The pages turned dark burgundy red.

Your but your bottom lip and sniffled, “He punched the broken bottle into Moms’ belly. It was so sharp it cut through her jacket, her skin and fat all the way into her liver. There was nothing Caroline and I could do. We tried to stop the bleeding with our coats. But When paramedics arrived ....she had bled to death. I watched her choke on it.”

You wiped your tears and snot across his shoulder, the soft wool soaked it up. His strong hands pulled you closer into him. You straddled his hips, curling your legs around his back. Your night gown hem rose up around your nude hips. His body was so warm. He was like a blanket around you.

“She died, protecting us,” you gulped, “She died over a fucking watch because some greedy homeless drunk wanted money for some booze.”

The Spirit clucked his tongue, “Your mother passed and your father?”

Your tears had calmed down significantly, you covered yourself to sit on his thigh instead of balancing on just his lap. You twisted your body and stared at the moving pictures on the papers.

Your dad came to image. The black beneath his eyes and the sunken cheeks were not the man you wished to remember. He lit a cigarette and pressed a bottle to his lips.

“Dad got his promotion and we moved to Manhattan but...Mom’s death really took a toll on him.”

You were making paper angels on the floor with your sister. You hung them up together in her room. There was no Christmas tree. It was the Christmas after your mom’s death and before you left for college. It was the last Christmas you shared with Caroline.

The sweet ten year old was wise and emotionally matured than others her age. It was how she processed your moms death. Caroline at only ten was able to keep you and your father from experiencing more heart ache and grief.

You watched the two girls climbed under a blanket and play with a flashlight. You pushed over her wrist a rubber band loomed bracelet with her favourite colours. She gave you three fruity scented rubbers and a pencil she had been rewarded by her teacher at school.

“I used that pencil until the tip was impossible to hold,” you whispered and felt Chris’ warm wet lips press against your temple, he rocked you like you were the most fragile thing in the room. Maybe you were.

“She still keeps your rubber band bracelet in her bedside table...she wore it to the birth of your nephew,” The spirit stated.

You choked and cupped your hand over your mouth. You hadn’t cried so hard and so much in years not since-

“And then you left for College.”

You sucked in a deep and painful breath. You nodded and clenched your hand into a fist.

“College wasn’t so bad. I had my fun like everyone else,” you lied.

“Did you?” Chris smirked, “Let’s have a look at that then? Shall we?”

8:00pm 23rd December, 2012, New York University.

Your father’s desk morphed into a pool table.

It was the party of the season. Sororities and fraternities came together. You weren’t a member of a sorority. You chose to believe stand offishly that sororities were of a hive cult mind. It wasn’t worth networking in such a unnecessary club and housing.

You didn’t have friends in college either. You didn’t make yourself approachable. Always sitting at the front of the class room and never smiling. You were the dedicated pupil and that made you into the coldest fish of the school.

Your professors approval and marks is all you cared about. The more successful, the more opportunities and the more chances of gaining success enough to maybe look after your little sister. That originally was the goal.

You watched with Chris as a gaggle of Kappa delta girls giggled passed by a young girl no older than nineteen holding a red cup close to her chest. She looked disdainful and tired. She was wearing a basic white thankyou with a cotton scarf and jeggings. Thick black glasses at on the edge of your nose. You laughed awkwardly looking at the past youth. Your recalled your hipster phase in college but didn’t remember you looking this horrendous and mismatched. Your hair...you shuddered. You never did that style again.

“Fun party!” Chris called over your shoulder. He wore a red Christmas hat and in the crook of his lip was a party blower. The lights and music were obnoxiously jolly and hip hop rap remixes found on YouTube. You know YouTube? When it’s common the iPhone one was still a little television and not the red play button we know today. So many people were growing nuts over these two Neanderthals on a channel called “Smosh” at the time, maybe they were trying to mimic that movie of dipshits called Jack Ass.

Yes...party...you had been invited and you almost said no...but your mother’s death anniversary was coming up and you felt it appropriate to seek the comfort of other people and illicit items to take the pain away for a night. The young woman continued to help herself to the eggnog, standing right beside the table, spooning the goop into her red cup

You tried forgetting about the drunk monster that stabbed your mother all those years ago.

“A naughty freshman?” Chris chuckled, breaking you away from your thoughts.

He floated to the eggnog bowl and grinned,.“Barely a woman and breaking the rules, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a rebel.”

You rolled your eyes, “Hardly,” before walking over to sit on the edge of the pool table. Some guys were playing with their cues and balls. They walked through you as they passed by. One of them you remembered very well and tried your best to not acknowledge.

“It’s how you met him though...isn’t it?” said Chris, looking between the young woman and a young man playing at the table.

The man was handsome. Tall and dark. His eyes a burnt burgundy that sent the younger you thrills down your spine.

The young woman leaning in her corner and sipping her sorrows away was eyeing the game keenly. It looked...fun.

The very ass she looked upon was found and shaped with strong thighs and calf’s under those denim jeans. The ass belonged to a man. And that man turned around once he caught her staring in the corner of his eye.

He smirked and finished the game before swaggering over your way. Even now you still admired how good looking he was.

Chris was looking him up and down, smiling and cockily mimicking the walk but this time back to you so you could both watch the events of your forlorn past.

“Hey, aren’t you in my maths class?” The man asked leaning over her with just his right arm.

She ignored him initially, shrugging as a reply.

He chuckled, “You’re that weird chick that sits at the front right?”

Her eyes flickered back and her lip curdled, “And you’re that obtuse moron that doesn’t know the difference between algebra and calculus equations?”

Chris chuckled, “There you are. I was wondering when you’d come out to play.”

You felt a twinge ashamed. Is that how others saw you all the time? An uptight, haughty bitch? You remained quiet.

“Well...I find I act my dumbest when I’m around beautiful ladies,” said the confident man, “I get all nervous and stuff.”

“Nervous and stuff?” She repeated slowly, flicking her tongue deliberately against her teeth to sound out each precious syllable.

God, it made you cringe to watch yourself.

He leant in closer and pressed his nose to hers, his eyes glanced up and he said heatedly, “You’re standing beneath a mistletoe.”

Before he could officially kiss her, Chris clapped his hands and world the room around. He grabbed your wrist and made sure to stand you on his shoes as the people and party disappeared into books on shelves.

4:00pm 23rd December, 2013, New York University.

The pool table melted down into the shape of a smaller desk and chair. That same girl was sitting at it with her head in a book and her pen against the page. The sky outside was dark. It was snowing lightly beyond the windows.

That man from the party now wore a dark blue jumper and sweatpants, he wandered up beside her, sipping a starbucks milkshake.

She moved the thick black rim glasses from her face. Her fingertips rubbed circles into her eyes before returning back to the important reading material. Dark shadows bagged beneath her eyes.

“You were a dedicated student,” said Chris, his hands lingered up your spine and wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You nodded. You were.

The loud sucking of the man’s Starbucks cup made her slap the book close.

With her tight voice she snootily scolded him, “You know you’re not allowed food and drink in the library.”

He smirked, “Whatcha gonna do miss goodie goodie? Gonna tell on me? Gonna take my drink away?” he shook it, the ice cubes rattled I side.

He chuckled and chewed the straw. His eyes glanced at you up and down.

“Youre kinda hot...in a weird nerdy way you know?” he chuckled.

Both younger you and the you if now rolled your eyes and scoffed. But you knew the younger version was naive and how so many of those one liner comments got you into the most destructive relationship of your life.

The young man stole her book from the desk and ran off with it. Her shriek became laughter as she quickly collected her bag and pencils to chase after him.

The Spirit held you when he stood behind you His hands cradled your arms and hip, rocking you slowly, side to side. He watched the interaction of two young people deep into their puppy love with a great fascination over his face.

“Who was the handsome beau?”

“Anthony Mackie...the schools best hockey player and class clown idiot,” you muttered.

Chris hummed with pleased curiosity, “Is that all?”

You grabbed at his wrists and squeezed them tightly. You pressed your head back into his chest and sighed.

“He was my boyfriend,” you said quietly to Chris.

The library seemed to fast forward. Outside the seasons changed from winter, spring, summer fall and back to winter again. She was sitting back in the same desk again. Her eyes were still tired and now she wore a little more makeup to conceal it. Her eyes were glued to the pages, racing to read and write notes. Her ipod shuffle earphones were half broken, crackling each time unless you held the cord in a specific way.

And a soft humming slipped from her lips, totally immersed in her study.

“Oh, oh, where do we begin? The rubble or our sins?”

Chris side glanced you and you side glanced him. Without the music, her crackly voice just sounded like a dying bird.

“And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love. Grey clouds roll over the hills bringing darkness from above.”

“An awful drawer and a terrible deaf tone singer,” he laughed, “I didn’t think I would learn so much about the things you’re bad at.”

You had to admit, he was right. You stomped hard onto his foot. His lips puckered and his eyes squeezed in his silent pain.

“Oops,” you feigned ignorance, “Guess I’m bad at watching my step too.”

“But if you close your eyes,” she sang a little louder and you felt that second hand humiliation wave through you hard, “Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes..Does it almost feel like you’ve been here befor-”

Behind her, Anthony came whistling around a corner and stuck his head into the study nook, stealing her head phone from her ear and kissed her cheek hard.

She smiled and just as quickly frowned.

“C’mon babe,” said Anthony, “Sebastian’s throwing a killer basement bash for the holidays. Let’s go to the party.”

The college girl laughed mockingly at her boyfriend, “I’m sorry, did you forget that we have a test tomorrow? I don’t have time to go out wasting it away with your degenerate friends.”

Chris hands sneakily ran down over your thighs and slipped beneath the night gown to cup your belly. Your breath hitched. You couldn’t tell if you were aroused or disgusted anymore. Why of all times and places was he groping you now?!

“Baby,” the hockey player sighed, “You’re the smartest chick I know. I’m sure you’ll pass tomorrow. A little bit of dancing and drinking won’t change that.”

“No,” she firmly hissed and turned her head back to your book. Anthony’s chest deflated.

“Anthony just wanted to party all the time,” you scoffed to Chris, “He was so horny and stupid I can’t believe I actually dated him.”

He gave you a side ways glance, his thumb rubbed tiny circles into your skin.

“So you dumped him?” he asked looking between you and your younger studying self.

Sheepishly you looked away and shrugged, “...not exactly...it’s complicated.”

“Enlighten me,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek after.

Your body grew warmer by the second especially in places you wouldn’t have guessed. Your insides felt alive and buzzing. It was so wrong.

“...I...” Anthony paused and took a few moments to break out his voice, “I can see your studies are more important than me, huh? We haven’t hung out in ages and...you’re never taking a break from study to enjoy life with me... Is this really more important? I mean, c’mon...” his eyes softened, “It’s almost Christmas break.”

And it was violent. You jumped watching her turn and announce cold cuttingly, “As a matter of fact, this is. I don’t have time to waste on dumb doornail guys when I need to succeed. I guess I can’t expect a hopeless hockey player to understand. Go skate on some ice and hit a put, it’s not like you’ll be able to feed your future family.”

His eyes widened.

Your eyes widened.

Her eyes darkened with scornful hate.

He kissed her head and shook his head, he whispered, “Merry Christmas Y/N. I wish you nothing but the world in your palm, I just won’t be in it.” He stood away shakily. Tears were pearled in his eyes as he walked away leaving her to her own devices. She grunted and went back to her studies... The next morning you had earned the top score of the class.

You knew the break up was quick, you didn’t remember saying such a mean thing to the guy you had fallen mad head over hill in love with.

You couldn’t believe you had been so cruel.

But you had. And there was nothing you could do to take it back. It happened. It was done. Finished.

And Anthony did nothing wrong except invite you to a party, a party you never went to, a party where he met his future wife.

“Spirit remove me from this place,” you choked as your chest began trembling.

Chris hushed you and kissed the side of your head, “It’s alright, I told you before, these are merely shadows of the past, things that have been.”

He wiped the unwilling tears coursing down your cheek.

You shook your head and wailed, “I don’t fucking care! Remove me! Take me somewhere else!”

A vile sobbing wail screamed from your lips. You didn’t know where it had come from. Your knees gave way and you fell, Chris’ arm caught your waist in time and laid you down across the carpet.

The vision of time phased away to the darkness. You felt your heart get louder, fearing the unknown pitch black. His hot hand cupped your cheek and you found yourself cowering into his chest.

1:40am 25th December, 2023, New York City.

There was a faint light in the area around you. Dim and blue. Your eyes struggled to open...you lifted your head from what you originally believed was Chris’ chest. Yet it revealed to you quickly that the warmth was only your soft pillows. You were back in your own bedroom again. The sheets has been wrapped around your waist and legs.

You didn’t know how to feel. You just cried. You buried your head and sobbed. You missed your mother and the father you once had. You missed Anthony and regretted how much you might’ve hurt him. And you missed being touched...you missed Chris’ warm hands holding you and the foolish grin he wore. You barely knew up but you mourned his existence that might’ve not been real at all.

Sitting up sniffling and sighing hard, you got out of your bed and walked to your kitchen. You reached for your coffee machine and paused. No, you need something stronger. You went to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of wine from earlier. You intended to finish the damn thing and forget everything for a while.

Turn back around you returned to your room to lay back in your three thousand dollars bedsheets...

Except you didn’t recall buying him too.

Chris, still here. Now laying across your very luxuriously soft duvet. He made it dramatically obvious, running his cheek into your pillow smelling the essence of your tears.

Your spine shot up and down hot. You tried not to smile. You were pleased he was here. You didn’t know where he came from or where he was hiding before but seeing him again welcomed something into your cold heart.

His eyebrows wiggled, “Oh, Merlot? For me? You shouldn’t have.”

You hummed feigning your displeasure, “Its Pinot Noir... I didn’t think you’d be so uncultured.”

He chuckled, looking down at the soft fabrics he was pinching, “Yea, well I’m probably more knowledgeable on hot chocolate and eggnog more than anything.”

He pat the spot beside him, inviting you to sit on your own bed. You felt it was ironic and ludicrous.

“Maybe...anyway...don’t you have somewhere else to be? Someone else to bother?” You snipped and cocked your hip.

“As a matter of fact...” he rolled onto his back and placed his hands behind his head, “I don’t, so be a good snowflake and join me, the covers are incredible!”

You snorted softly rolling your eyes, “I know,” you sat on the bed and unscrewed the bottle, you took a deep sip and cringed a croak, “I bought them.”

He took the bottle from his hands, not asking if he could. But really what was the point in fighting him. He stole your wine and took his own sip. You couldn’t help stare at his bobbing Adams apple.

He passed the bottle back. You were going to take another drink before Chris said, “It all makes sense now.”

You eyes him putting the bottle down....he was daring you to ask it, you knew it...and you complied.

“What?”

You crawled onto your knees on the mattress and waited with your curious eyes. The wine warmed your belly. You tossed your head to one side, staring up and down the Spirit. He had such an appealing form for something so inhuman and supposedly holy.

He smiled.

“What!?” you repeated needfully.

He sighed, “This,” he waved his hand towards you.

“You just gestured to all of me.”

“Exactly.”

Your eyes narrowed and a bold bolt drove through you, the twinge of annoyance mixed with frustrated anger, “If you’re going to talk in riddles, you can get the fuck off my bed and get the fuck out of my apartment. Merry fucking Christmas.”

His smile remained but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He lifted his chin.

“How you became a holiday hating, grievously malicious, uptight little cunt.”

Your eyes could have popped out from your head, “Excuse me?!” You gagged on nothingness. Your fists curled...‘What happens to people who punched Spirits in the nose?’

He shrugged and sighed, “You wanted to know. Don’t blame me for telling you the truth. I don’t do white lies, that’s not in my books.”

You grabbed the wine again and took a mean big gulp, glaring at him from the corner of your eye, “If that was the case,” your voice said with barbs, “Children wouldn’t believe in Santa and the north pole and his company of elves.”

He pursed his lips and nodded before he snatched the bottle from your hand and vanished it from existence.

“Hey!” you snapped, “I wasn’t finished with that! It cost me-”

“Nothing,” he interrupted and tapped his fingers on his chest, “It didn’t cost you a penny because you got a refund when you lied to the winery that it’s wax seal was broken upon delivery when it very well wasn’t...but upon tasting it you felt it wasn’t worth the price you paid therefore it shouldn’t cost you a dime...it didn’t cost you a damn thing.”

You sat back and gulped, ‘How the fuck-‘

“Christmas past remember? I see all...so don’t bother trying to convince me that you needed to finish that meaningless sip,” he curtly said, “You need to focus on bettering your mindset and yourself. It’s important.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted down at the floor. You wanted to cry and scream with embarrassment, you wanted to kick or break something.

He smirked and picked up your chin with a long finger. You sniffled and jerked your head away. You crawled down to the very end of your bed. You pulled the covers back and kicked the sheets before sliding your feet under them and pulling them up to your chin.

You huffed softly, feeling the prickling heat of tears behind your eyes, why did he have to shame you so easily, “Or what, you gonna chain me up like Marlene? Go on then, call me a cunt again. Put me on your big ol’ scary naughty list.”

You shook your head and rolled your entire body away from him. A tear rolled from your eye and soaked down into your pillow, meeting the rest of its previous brethren tears.

Chris gazed down at you with sad hope. He really did want you to pass the test. He knew you had the potential, but did you have the drive? Maybe you just needed the push...

You were lonely in life more than ever before. You were miserable despite convincing yourself you were incredibly successful in all parts of life.

His arm circled forward and bodly rubbed down your middle and curled around your waist. You sniffled again, ignoring his touch all together.

He laid his cheek ontop of yours and whispered, “Do you want to know what happens to naughty girls like you? You want to really know what they get?”

You shut your eyes, you didn’t want to look at him. You were upset and too ashamed. You didn’t want to be teased again.

You mumbled grumpily, “Coal up their ass?”

“Oh it’s not coal that goes up there,” he hummed deeply

Your eyes fluttered awake.

His hand reached under the duvet and touched your bare thigh...his finger tips wriggled in between your thighs and attacked your clit...your breath hitched.

“I gather you need motivation if you are to improve your outlook on life,” he breathed huskily into your ear.

Your lips parted, your eyes squeezed tight. A gurgling moan crawled from your throat. You rocked your hips into his hand and savoured his controlling hand.

Tiny pants left your lips as he pushed two fingers inside of your salivating pussy. He twitched them back and forth at an average steady pace.

His hot wet tongue licked from your shoulder up to your ear. His loud sucking on your skin cause a small keen shudder to glide down your spine. He kissed your neck and sighed into your skin.

His knee curled up and pressed between your thighs, he fully intended to keep your entire pussy open and available to his instrumental fingers.

“Look at you,” he muttered, “So compliant when I have my fingers up this stubborn cunt. Are you going to promise you’ll behave and obey me from now on? Cease you insistent fight?”

“Pl-please Chris,” you gasped,

He smirked against you skin, “Please what?” he purred

“F-fuck!” you whined and pressed your ass back against him, trying to rub against his hidden cock.

He slapped your backside once making you jump. He chuckled wickedly, “I will if you promise to obey and listen.”

You panted and groaned, “Make- make me!” you wouldn’t submit so easily....not even for unworldly dick.

His noise was feral, rising from the back of his throat like a growl. He pressed his mouth to yours. You whined, his tongue choked you and pressed your tongue down, dominating you even in kiss.

He gasped pulling back, “Very well you stubborn slut.”

He snapped his fingers and poof- the blankets, your night gown and surprisingly all his clothing vanished from the bed all together.

You gasped at the feeling of his hot skin pressing up your back. Your hands clawed the pillows as he thrust his fingers fast and hard. Your eyes started to roll until the sensation was totally lost. He selfishly took his hand back, moments before you hit the high. You whimpered and trembled. You couldn’t breathed you were a mixture of frustration, anger and needy obsession. You would have done anything for him to finish.

He sat up and rolled you until your belly was laid over his legs. His cock you could not see but feel touching you made you excited and eager to know how it would feel to fuck you. His hands roughly kneaded your thighs and bottom.

‘No...he wouldn’t...’

His hand came flying down cracking across the skin of your ass. You squealed and felt your hips launch up in the air. The sting was like a cutting burn that lasted for around thirty seconds. He did it again and again. His flat palm struck you and would the pain absorb before rubbing the flesh. You didn’t fight him and that did not surprise him.

Your hips wriggled and twisted. His hand was harsh and fiery. You groaned and savoured it. And when it felt almost too much and you tried to wiggle free. He pinned you down hard by your neck and shoulders.

You bit your lips and cried, really cried. You grit your teeth and sobbed through each striking spank on your naked ass. Your hands clawed the bed and the skin of his thighs. He hailed into you harder. You screamed and choked on your sobs. It wasn’t fun anymore. It hurt and he wasn’t stopping even when you began squealing and kicking your legs on the bed trying to twist your hips away.

“Stop! Stop please! Please! It hurts! No more, no more.”

“If you didn’t want this, you’d behave.”

You swore he had to have been flaying your skin by his hand until you reached back and cupped or own hot cheeks, protecting yourself from his whiping palm.

You sobbed and trembled. You flinched and whimpered with shining tears when a surprisingly soft knuckle brushed your cheek and his husky voice hushed you softly.

He slowly turned you over off his lap and dragged you close to his chest.

He shoved his thumb into your mouth. You didn’t fight or pull back. You sucked on this digit, wrapping your lips around it. You felt his arm wrap around you and pull you closer. Your breasts pressed to his chest, he was warm

And his thumb gave you something to focus on instead of your burn sore bottom. You whined and laid your head back on the pillows. You rubbed to cheek on the warm skin of his shoulder while he soothed you from your tears using his soft cooing and thumb you greedily kept in your mouth. You moaned and mewled over it, licking the pad and scratching your tongue along his nail.

His fingers ran up and down your back. He pulled his thumb from your mouth with a gentle pop.

“Look at you,” he whispered, “Greedy, spoilt, but once you’re faced with real consequences you come to heel...”

You tried shaking your head, denying it. No. You were an independent woman with control.

A false mocking awe came from him as he said, “Oh yes, yes that’s exactly what you are. But you’re going to promise to be a good girl from now on or else you’ll never cum again.”

You were speechless...you wanted to be fresh with him and state that you still owned a vibrator...but what if he took it away like your wine.

He spread your thighs, he tugged your knees over his hip and rubbed your clit with his fingers until you were wet enough to his liking. He kissed you again, laughing as you pressed yourself up into him, stealing any physical touch you could possibly gain. He ran a soft hand across your cheek, tender and loving. His lips suckled their way down to your chest. Those red cherry lips plucked at your nipples and soft breasts.

Finally the tip of his pink cock touched your pussy. It was firm and from what you could see in the faint dark, it was lengthy. Your arms reached up and held onto his shoulders, you dug your nails sharply into his shoulders as he entered.

He grunted and sighed, struggling to stuff himself in and would pause when your noises were whines of pain. He made sure to avoid any tearing.

And when he managed to press himself taut into you, his balls touching your ass and thigh, you felt like you had been through a workout.

The walls of your cunt were filled to every crevice of his fat cock. You moaned when he moved tiny thrusts into you instead of brutally slamming.

You pressed your mouth to him again, his eyes looking back at you with adoration. He jerked his hips back a little meaner watching you gasp. He mocked your gasp before kissing your nose and then your mouth. He did it again to taste and feel your gasp.

He moved you back, dislodging quickly so that he could climb over you and enter swiftly inside. He picked your legs up with the backs of your knees and anchored himself down, harder and faster picking up the speed.

“You hear that?” he asked and moved himself in smaller jerks, “Dirty little slut, you’re drooling syrup all over my pole.”

And if you weren’t so close to cumming you would’ve laughed. His hand pressed down on your throat. He barrelled into you and slapped a breast.

The sensations of being prevented to breathe as straight and the slap intensifies all your senses. You groaned and choked.

He hissed, bending down to press his nose into yours.

Your legs wrapped tight around his waist trying to lift your hips up to meet him.

“You want to cum?” he snarled? You nodded trying to not cry again. God you needed it.

“Pl-pl-please,” you gasped through the violent thrusts.

He licked your cheek and growled, “You promise to be on your best behaviour from now on?”

You whimpered and nodded.

His thumb attacked your clit as he fucked you.

“Cum,” he whispered, “Cum for me on my cock little slut.”

Your body contorted, muscles strained as you released a soundless scream. You threw your head back let you body be consumed by the orgasm you let tear through your entire body. Your bones and chest rattled. When air finally came to your lungs you let out a powerful sob. But Chris gazing down at you bore joyful vision at your smile as you cried.

You felt incredible, hit by a bus made of all things delightful.

His cock was still inside you. You didn’t take a moment to think about him or whether he cummed. You selfishly enjoyed the gift he gave you and forgot about the promise you had vowed.

He pulled away slowly. You hissed at the departure. So sensitive.

You curled lazily up into a ball and fluttered your eyes shut.

You only recalled feeling his hot lips against your ear, “I will return to you when the bell chimes once more...” his pecked your cheek and left you to lay in your mess, exhausted and falling into your own sleep again.

#tsoc #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x ofc #christmas smut #Christmas evans x black!reader #dubious consent #dark!chris evans

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Oxytocin

Title: Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors – DNI

Fandom: Knives Out AU

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC (Ivy Kensington)

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: At a New Year’s Eve party, Ransom Drysdale’s life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington. 

Warnings: age gap (Ivy is 38, Ransom is 19 in flashbacks), Mommy kink, Mommy Domme/baby boy, dry humping, orgasm denial, mention of virginity, aftercare, size kink, oral sex (m receiving), cum swallowing

A/N: My tiles for @thebasementspouses VOTM Ransom Drysdale BINGO were: dry humping, mommy kink, orgasm denial, virginity, size kink. Submission for @the-slumberparty’s Eight Types of Love February 2024 Sleepover Challenge(Pragma – longstanding love). Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta, you saved me from myself!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

YouTube Music playlist is here.

Spotify playlist is here.

My Masterlist

From the moment he laid eyes on her, Ransom’s world stopped. The sound of her laughter, the glow of her chestnut skin, the way her deep brown irises held his focus; he couldn’t choose his favorite of her attributes. He watched as she commanded the attention of the room as she regaled her guests with tales of her various adventures traveling the globe.

He was only nineteen when he met her that New Year’s Eve night. Ivy Kensington. She was thirty-eight and newly divorced. The poor bastard that let her slip through his fingers must be insane, Ransom thought to himself. He loved how lively she was, as if divorce was exactly what she needed to feel alive.

He doesn’t know what possessed him that night to walk right up to her but, God help him, he thanks his lucky stars that he did. As he approached her, his hopes were high. Until she noticed him, turning to acknowledge the younger man. When he went to open his mouth, it flopped open and then closed after several seconds of awkward silence.

A grin spread across her face before she spoke, “You have got to be Linda and Richard’s son. Handsome like your father, and venturesome just like your mother. Now, what did you walk all the way over here for? Looked like you were about to say something interesting,” she teased, a hand going to her hip as she shifted on her feet.

“Ransom. That’s my name. Uh, I just…what I mean to say is, um-”

“Slow down, baby boy,” she soothed, stopping him mid-ramble to step closer so she could hold his chin between her manicured thumb and forefinger, “What did you want to say, Ransom?”

Her gaze drew him in, and he instantly felt at ease, gaining his voice back. “I wanted to know if you had plans for midnight, Mrs. Kensington. You know, the kiss?” he asks, voice trembling only slightly.

“It’s Ms. Kensington. You want to be my midnight kiss?” she questioned, tilting her head to the side as she looked up at him, “That is very bold of you to ask, especially coming from a virgin,” she said matter-of-factly.

His eyes widened and his brows shot up his forehead at the mention of his still intact virginity. Up to this point, no one knew he’d never been laid. He’d had his share of kissing, sure. Every time he wanted to go the distance, it never panned out. But how could she tell?

“You’re wondering how I know. You just have that look about you. Not necessarily innocent, more like naïve. And damn lucky that I don’t already have a kiss lined up. Meet me up there at midnight,” she instructed, peeking up the stairs to the area overlooking the party.

All Ransom could do was nod, for fear that opening his mouth would be a repeat of his earlier blunder.

“Now, shoo. I have other guests to entertain, and that precious face of yours will surely divert my attention,” she insisted, her hand patting his baby-faced cheek as she walked around him.

Ransom was left gobsmacked. He succeeded at talking to a woman. Well, he only succeeded with her help, but he’s not gonna mention that if anyone asks. For all intents and purposes, he’s arranged a secret rendezvous with an older woman. No elaboration was necessary, according to him at least.

For the next few hours, Ransom not-so-sneakily kept an eye on wherever Ivy went. He wouldn’t call it stalking her. He was just protecting his interests. He watched as man after man came up to Ivy, crowding her personal space. Ransom was seething quite visibly until he saw how elegantly she dispatched each potential suitor, politely letting them down and sending a look his way to let him know she saw him in the crowd.

He stopped sneering as much after that. She could handle herself just fine without him lurking. He knew that now, but it didn’t stop his eyes from searching for her the rest of the night. 

As 9 turned into 10 and 10 turned into 11, he busied himself with sitting on one of the exquisite phthalo green velvet couches in the parlor. He looked at all the knickknacks that Ivy must have picked up on various excursions around the world. For a moment, he felt like he may be underwhelming to such an amazing woman. But he let that thought die as people started to count down from ten in the other room.

He moved swiftly through the crowd, taking the long staircase two steps at a time to get to the top where Ivy stands waiting for him. Standing in front of her, his focus tied to her and only her. As the partygoers counted down to 1, his hand snaked around her shorter form and pulled her close.

Their breaths mingled; body heat was shared between them. The instant their lips met; it was over. As if the entire party vanished, neither of them tried to keep the kiss innocent. Deepening the kiss, Ransom used his tongue to massage hers, eliciting a deep rumbling moan out of her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Emboldened by his position, he let his hand slide down past the small of her back to her ample backside. Giving it a healthy squeeze, he sighed into the kiss when she tangled her fingers in his hair.

As Ivy broke the kiss, she rested her forehead against his as they both caught their breath. Ivy lifted her head and smiled as she saw her garnet-toned lipstick smeared across his lips. He looked thoroughly debauched between the makeup on his face and the state of his hair. This simply would not do.

At his furrowed brow, she removed herself from his embrace and took his hand in hers. Pulling him down the long hallway, they entered the master bedroom and made their way to the attached bathroom. He finally caught his reflection in the mirror as she grabbed a makeup wipe from the cabinet. She cleaned his face while holding his jaw as if she thought he would try and escape from her grip. His gaze stayed on her face the entire time.

It had been so long since someone cared for him in this way. He watched as she threw away the wipe in the trash and finger-combed through his hair, making him presentable once again. In a flash, he was in a trance, something he couldn’t put a finger on. He felt so safe with Ivy like she could tell him to do anything, and he would do it without question. He was so deep into subspace that he barely registered Ivy calling his name as he blankly stared at her.

“Ransom? Talk to me, baby,” she encouraged, the back of her hand sweeping down his cheek. His eyes closed as she administered the simple yet desirable touch. 

His mouth opened as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, but no words followed his actions. Ivy guided him back to the bedroom to sit down on the King-sized bed. All the while, he remained focused on her. 

“Alright, baby boy, you gotta help me out here. Where did you go? Come on back to Mommy,” she prodded, surprised when Ransom bit his lip at her use of the word Mommy. Her eyes grew dark, and she understood instantly what he needed from her.

She instructed him to lay back on the bed and he did so promptly. The tent in his pants highlighted his arousal as she climbed over his lap. His hands moved on their own to pull her hips flush with his, but she swatted them away.

“Ask for permission to touch Mommy, baby boy,” she directed, her hands ghosting over his chest as he breathed shallowly.

“May I please touch you, Mommy?” he begged, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“After being so polite, how can I say no to my baby boy?” she conceded, reaching up to let the top of her dress down so her breasts could spill out, “You may touch Mommy, baby.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” he mewled, gripping one breast in each hand as she sat down on his clothed cock. 

She felt his length and girth with how hard he was. He felt the heat coming from her pussy as she ground into him. They both felt the intensity in the air surrounding them. When Ivy leaned down to let Ransom suckle her breast, he did so with a little too much enthusiasm at first. Once he got into a rhythm, he relished that he was able to pull soft whines from her.

Soon enough, he began to feel the tightening chokehold of his impending orgasm. He stopped sucking on her tits and chased after his inevitable end. But he was interrupted by Ivy’s words and the abrupt halt of her hips.

“Baby boy, if you want to cum tonight, you’re gonna need to make Mommy cum first. Is that understood?” she challenged.

“Yes, Mommy,” he sputtered, groaning when she started to grind into him again.

She rode him like her life depended on it, and honestly, when an orgasm was on the horizon, it felt pretty on the nose. He watched her face as she succumbed to the continuous poking of the tip of his dick into her swollen nub. He coveted the way her legs tightened around him, imagining what it would feel like to be inside her when she cums.

That thought proved to be overwhelming and while she was coming down from her high, he followed right after her. Like waves crashing into a pier, his climax washed over him. White-hot heat rushed through his cock as it spilled his jizz inside his pants. Ivy, in all her glory, never stopped riding him as he came. Even as it became too much and he whimpered for her to stop, she only slowed down. She enjoyed it so much, watching him fall apart under her.

As a tear escaped his eye, she let up on her cruel punishment of his overworked length. She removed herself from his lap and crawled up the bed to take him in her arms. His breathing had calmed down and he laid his head against her chest, idly sucking on one nipple as he lay there. He looked up into her eyes and she smiled down at him, effortlessly putting him at ease. 

They stayed that way until Ransom started to squirm in her arms, surely not enjoying the way his cum was starting to dry against his skin. She cleaned him up in the bathroom, her mouth gaping open when she finally caught sight of the sheer size of his cock. If she was ever going to get to ride it, she would need a lot of prep. He put a hand over hers when she unconsciously began to pump his soft penis.

She thought he had been trying to get her to stop but was surprised when he only wanted to change the pace of her hand. He threw his head back when she tightened her fist and knelt in front of him. Watching her through heavy-lidded eyes, he babbled nonsense for a moment until his balls drew up and he shot milky ropes into her waiting mouth. His hands went to her shoulders and unsteady legs doing their best to hold him up after blowing his load twice.

He had heard of post-nut clarity, but he was experiencing something completely different. Perhaps akin to love, but not as deep. He watched as she swallowed, warmth spreading through his chest. Maybe he was wrong, feeling more and more entranced by Ivy with every second they spent together.

She fixed her dress and her lipstick, leaving the red smudges on his cock with a smile as she zipped him up. She took him further down the hall to a hidden stairwell that led into the kitchen. They had evaded any prying eyes from partygoers, making it seem like they had been in this room the whole time.

Famished from earlier activities, they munched on hors d’oeurves and made comfortable small talk. All earlier nervousness was a distant memory as they laughed and carried on like two lovesick teenagers.

Well, like one lovesick teenager and a grown-ass woman. At this point, age was nothing but a number. A number that neither of them cared about. They exchanged numbers, making a point to see one another again.

Eventually, they made it back into the party. Ivy made sure to say a lengthy farewell to Ransom’s parents, praising them for raising such a gentleman much to the shock of Richard and Linda, but they recovered gracefully. Shortly thereafter, the Drysdales made their exit.

During the car ride home, Richard joked that Ransom had a schoolboy crush on Ivy. ‘If they only knew,’ he thought to himself.

Over the rest of his winter break from college, Ransom spent more and more time with Ivy where she taught him tip after hint after trick about pleasing a woman. It was less out of the goodness of her heart and more about the kismet between them. She enjoyed his banter as much as his body. He loved coming to her place for a home-cooked meal and the company of a woman who thought the world of him.

When the winter break ended, Ransom spent his last night in town with Ivy. Of course, his parents showed barely any interest in the fact that he was leaving early or who he was spending his time with. In their eyes, he was not only an adult, but also no longer their problem. 

Ransom had hoped that finally, Ivy would let him make love to her. But she felt a strange sense of moral obligation when it came to him losing his virginity. As much as she wanted to be his first, she didn’t want him to get even more attached to her. She knew he was in love, and if she let herself follow him, it would not end pretty. Better to end their little doomed romance now, before either of them could get hurt.

Explaining all of this to him went better than she expected. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, jaw tightening as he looked away from Ivy. She counted to five before reaching a hand to his shoulder, surprised when his hand covered hers. 

Unshed tears shone in his eyes when he turned to look back at her again. Maintaining eye contact, he brought her hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of her knuckles. He still relished the way her breath caught in her throat when he showered her with affection.

“No matter what happens, just remember this moment. It’s just us here, no one else. If this is the last moment we share, let’s make it worth it,” he pressed, praying for all the world that she would change her mind.

“Ransom, this isn’t exactly easy for me. I want you, please know that. But you deserve to have a relationship with someone. Perhaps, someone closer to your age. Someone with shared experiences. I would only be holding you back. That is my honest opinion,” she sniffed, continuing to reluctantly push him away.

“I won’t ever stop wanting you. You make me feel things I never thought were possible. I just wish I could give you a fraction of what you give me,” he lamented.

“Trust me, you have made an impact on my life. Who knows? Maybe one day down the line, we could get together and get a cup of coffee and laugh about this,” she hinted, hoping he would take her olive branch.

“I hope we can. I’m gonna hold you to it,” he beamed, a grin painting his features and replacing the sad look he once wore, “I should get going, I guess.”

“I’ll walk you out,” she said, standing and letting him lead the way. 

She wasn’t surprised at all when he kissed her neck while hugging her. Nor when he predictably trailed kisses over her jaw and up to her lips. But she couldn’t hold back her delight when he nibbled at her bottom lip and soothed away the sting with his tongue.

For a moment, when he leaned back from her, they just looked into each other’s eyes. Nothing was said because words were unnecessary at this point. Every moment, every kiss, every shared laugh was worth it to be able to share this last long gaze.

As soon as Ivy closed the door behind Ransom, she slumped to the floor and cried her eyes out.

That night, as he drove home from Ivy’s estate, Ransom shed tears all the way back to his dorm room. 

17 Years Later

Ransom is in town for a New Year’s Eve party thrown by his grandfather. He’s grown to loathe the damned holiday and it’s not a wonder why. He’s only there to make an appearance and swiftly leave before having to make awkward small talk with his parents. While sneaking into the kitchen to find the secret stash of cookies, he overhears a sound he hasn’t heard in so long but would recognize it anywhere.

He follows the source of the laughter and is astounded to see her standing and speaking to his grandfather. Entering the living room fully, he clears his throat and they both look at him. The look on Ivy’s face of pleased anticipation threw gasoline on a fire in his soul that he thought had long gone out.

“Ivy Kensington, I’d like to introduce you to my oldest grandson. Ransom Drysdale, meet Ivy,” Harlan remarks, not knowing that these two are very well-acquainted already. Harlan excuses himself, leaving them alone in the room.

“Ransom, I-”

“You look amazing,” he blurts, cutting her off before she can say anything.

They share a laugh, a moment of excitement and comfort between them. Staring into each other’s eyes told them everything they needed to know. 

And as the partygoers start to count down from 10, they realize they have been sitting in the living room for hours exchanging stories of the past and what they were up to now. The worries they had once upon a time were all gone. All that was left was the sliver of opportunity that wafted in the air once they shared a kiss.

The passion was there as if it was still so many years ago. As if Ransom didn’t have laugh lines or crow’s feet when he smiled. As if Ivy wasn’t sporting a few perfectly groomed grey hairs sprouting about in her curls. As if that final goodbye wasn’t all that final.

And that was as good a place as any to start.

A/N: OK so this was my first time writing Ransom and I made him kinda soft as puppy toes in most of this. I hope you enjoy it.

**Tag List**

@blackwood4stucky @peyton-warren

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#chris evans #chris evans characters #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x ofc #ransom drysdale x black!ofc #ransom drysdale x black ofc #ransom drysdale smut #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfic #knives out #knives out au #oxytocin #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic

[a-moment-captured]

The grey in his beard + the necklace + plus the tattoo peaking + the hair = Walking sex on 2 legs

They could have warned us before letting this man step out the house looking like this. He has Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram going crazy over this look.

#Chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans blurb #chris evans x reader #chris evans x ofc #chris evans smut #buzz lightyear #lightyear #Pixar #Disney #chris evans x black reader #christopher jamal evans #christopher robert evans

[cevansbrat0007]

Twin Flames: Part One

Summary: When firefighter Curtis Everett suspects that he's found his twin flame, he plans to slowly ease her into his lifestyle of dominance and submission. Until one night when it all goes up in smoke. Firefighter!Curtis Everett x OFC

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death, House Fires, Mention of Exes, Mentions of D/s Lifestyle, Mentions of Daddy Kink, Alcohol Consumption, Eventual Smut, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me flesh this out. This installment is part of my ongoing Trio Series. There will be a second part to this, detailing Curtis and Ruby's actual first meeting the night of the play party. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

___

As a firefighter, Curtis Everett has seen some terrible things in his line of work as a first responder. He's lost people on the job more than once. But the first time it happened…

The memory of that night still follows him. The things he witnessed, the smell of charred flesh. That’s the kind of shit that changes a person, it leaves behind a lasting mark.

The first person he ever lost while out on a call – it wrecked him. And in the aftermath Curtis was left to deal with it all on his own because Serena, his girlfriend of several years, was too busy partying to pick up the phone when he needed her. She had swiped his credit card so that she could show her friends a good time, which also included half the bar. 

After all, it wasn’t like it was her money. And although they ended things soon after, that woman wasn’t prepared to go quietly. She felt that she’d put up with a lot from him, especially whenever she reluctantly allowed him to indulge in some of his darker fantasies. 

In her mind, he owed her. And in time, she would collect.

But Curtis would eventually recover from that loss and move on, because that’s kind of one of the requirements of the job. After that horrible night, he vowed to do better. He became laser focused, determined to push himself to the limit. And it worked, at least for a while. But sometimes life is rather unpredictable.  

Just like the flames.

The next time he lost someone on his watch, it threatened to take him his fucking knees. Because that day – that day the victim was a little girl. Iris Caldwell, who was barely five-years-old. Her weeping mother had kept repeating over and over again that she’d just had a birthday two days prior.

And they had plans to celebrate that weekend. But the flames…they’d gotten to her first. And her tiny lungs had been no match for the heat and the smoke. 

Curtis had been the one to carry out her small, lifeless body - tears clouding his vision through the cover of his mask. He handed her off to an EMT and then stood motionless several yards away as chaos surged around him. His eyes were trained on the child, his frozen gaze never leaving her fallen form as the crew desperately tried to resuscitate her. However, when their efforts proved to be unsuccessful he placed the weight of that blame squarely upon his own shoulders. 

He’d been the one who failed poor Iris. And then the endless loop of “what-ifs” began. 

What if they’d arrived at the scene a few moments sooner? What if he’d been just a fraction of a second quicker as he was making his way into the house, trying to navigate a path through the blaze? What if he hadn’t struggled to break down the heavy oak door that had kept them from Iris, leaving her trapped to contend with the flames alone before she eventually succumbed to her injuries?

Later that night, someone showed him her picture, one of his teammates that had been with him on the call. In the photo, Iris had been wearing a sparkly pink crown, looking every inch the princess she was pretending to be. But it was her eyes that struck him – those big, beautiful eyes that reminded him so much of someone else he’d encountered not too long ago. A person that he’d met at one of the parties he liked to frequent as of late in his search to find the right woman. 

The type of woman who enjoyed the same games he liked to play. The type of woman who could manage him, who could accept him for the man that he was and would always be. A woman who was not only capable of understanding his dominant nature, but of embracing it.

He’d met a woman who’s spirit called to his own – so much so that when she abruptly left, he chased her down. Curtis had felt compelled to know her, to gentle the young woman who’s inner fire seemed to burn so bright, he couldn’t bear to watch it be so clumsily extinguished by someone else. By a lesser man who wouldn’t understand, nor appreciate, the gift that would be her eventual submission.

Rubeena Maxwell. That had been her name. And what they’d shared the night at Club Domino after he’d chased her down had been amazing. But he hadn’t pursued her after that, wanting to court her right. To show her that he could be the man he knew she deserved. And in order to do that he had to be on top of his game.

As a man. As a Dominant. And as a Daddy.  

But the night he and his team had lost that child, deep down he knew that he couldn’t go through this alone. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to – even as he tried to drink it all away. 

That night he tried to bury himself so deep in the bottom of a bottle that it – along with everything else – would all fade away. Wanted to get so drunk off his ass that he wouldn’t have to feel a damn thing until after morning light. However, when that proves to be damn near impossible he leaves the bar in search of another form of solace. 

He knew that he needed something more. He needed her.

Ruby.

They weren’t together, at least not yet. They’d only been out a few times, enough for her to realize that there was more to Curtis than he initially let on. There was pain, there was baggage, as well as the ghost of an ex-girlfriend who was still taking up so much space that it left virtually no room for a third person.

For Ruby to stake her claim on this man’s heart.

So she tried to put the brakes on things, effectively ending their relationship before it had truly ever begun. Because in truth, she had her own issues to contend with. And none of them involved a charming six-foot-something firefighter sporting a chiseled jaw and tempting blue eyes.     

However, when he showed up on her doorstep two weeks after their very first meeting, looking every bit as lost as confused she felt, she had no choice but to let him in. Especially since the gorgeous first responder appeared to be so drunk he could barely stand, let alone talk.

The moment she opened her door, Curtis pulled her into his arms, whispering into her curls over and over again about how sorry he was – for everything. For not being enough. For not getting there in time. Followed by a litany of nonsensical rambles about Ruby’s eyes, and how there was so much life in them. 

And how he never wanted to be the reason that it disappeared. 

Curtis just wanted to tell her – someone, anyone, really – that he had tried that day. That he had resolved himself to do better. And then he broke, right there on her front porch as she wrapped her arms around his big body as his powerful shoulders shook with the force of his tortured sobs. 

And whether she knew it or not, that was the night Rubeena Maxwell opened her heart to the beautifully damaged man who would become her lover, her partner, and the most dominant force in her life. 

That was the night she and Curtis Everett became a team. And this right here is just the beginning of their story before they would eventually become part of The Trio.

Next part coming soon...

#the trio series au #chris evans #curtis everett #chris evans imagines #curtis everett imagines #chris evans smut #curtis everett smut #chris evans x reader #curtis everett x reader #chris evans x ofc #curtis everett x ofc #chris evans x black!ofc #curtis everett x black!ofc #chris evans x black ofc #curtis everett x black ofc #chris evans x woc!ofc #curtis everett x woc!ofc #chris evans x poc!ofc #curtis everett x poc!ofc #chris evans x girlfriend!ofc #curtis everett x girlfriend!ofc #chris evans fanfiction #curtis everett fanfiction #cevansbrat0007 fics #chris evans daddy!kink #curtis everett daddy!kink #chris evans x brat!ofc #curtis everett x brat!ofc #curtis x ruby

[deexchanel]

BM3

Please Read BM and BM2 before reading; thanks.

Word Count: 2,517

Pairing: Chris Evans x BlackFem!OC

Warning: Swearing, Angst, Drinking.

Summary: Reality always comes back and bites you in the asss.

A/N: You know I had to double it.

Karma ~ Summer Walker is the vibe for this.

“Chris…”

The familiar voice made Chris quickly pull back. There stood Minka with a red face and tear stained cheeks.

Shit.

“Why am I watching you kiss your baby's mother after you told me you were at your daughter's birthday party?” Minka looked between them. Chris was lost for words because he didn’t even know she was coming.

“What are you doing here Minka?”

She gave them a dry laugh, “You really want to sit here and answer my question with a question, wow.” Her eyes flickered from him to Ryelle.

“I’m just going to leave; give Lively to me.”Ryelle just had enough of tonight already. Minka on the other hand, the night was just getting started for her. “Leave? Do you think your home-wrecking ass is just going to leave bitch?? No! Ain’t nobody leaving until I get fucking answers!” She made her way closer to Ryelle, aiming to hurt her.

Chris quickly handed Lively off and then caught Minka in his arms. “No! Wait Minka!”

Lively began to cry from the quick movement. Ryelle just got in the car, holding her daughter to her chest. Now at this point, Minka is knocking on the window while yelling.“Get out the fucking car!”

“Minka chill-”

“Chill? How the fuck can I chill when I find my fiancé sucking faces with his baby momma?! I can’t believe you Chris!” Minka pushed him away from her. Ryelle cranks up the car then pulls off leaving them to argue.

“We were going to talk Minka, I had got caught up being with Lively.”

“I thought you loved me, why would you do this to me?”

“I do love you, but this relationship makes me feel like I’m not myself. I feel like I’m big-time actor Chris Evans and not Christoper. That’s not how I want to feel for the rest of my life.” He maintained eye contact in hopes that Minka would listen for once.

“Okay and that’s when you communicate with me! I’m your future wife.” She crossed her arms.

“You’re saying that like it’s easy when the person I’m trying to communicate with doesn’t even listen to me!” Chris then takes a huge breath. Throughout this whole argument, Ry stayed on his mind.

“I do listen!” Minka tries to argue. She knows that she is treating him right so he can't put his actions on her. Well, that's what she thinks.

Chris shook his head knowing that she didn’t understand him, “Minka how did you get here?”

“Emeri brought me because we were trying to surprise you guys. I was going to show you that I’m wiling to be a step mother. Henry’s location checked in for here.”

—-

Leilani sat on the hood of Henry’s all-black Mercedes while he stood between her legs. They waited for Chris to call so he could let them know when to leave. They sat in the car first but since it had been a minute waiting on their call, they got out.

“You calm now love?”

“Yes, but it’s just I get so worked up about my sister when she’s fucked with for no reason. Then again, I didn’t want to hit my mother.”

“I’d most definitely be that about my siblings as well. You are very good to your sister.”

“Thank you.” She spoke softly, giving him a tired smile.

The orange light shining above from the street lamp had her beautiful dark skin showing. Henry being taller had a perfect view of everything. He gave a her a kiss on the forehead.

A car a few feet away jams on breaks catching both their attention, a brunette rapidly gets out the car. Recognizing the car and woman, Henry steps back making way to her. “I can explain.”

His girlfriend of 3 years stared at him with tears falling down from her eyes. “Fuck you Henry.”

Leilani stood up from the car, intrigued on who this is. He turns around throwing her his car keys, “Get my car to Ryelle’s house.”

“W-What? W-Where are you-”

Her questions went ignored as Henry put the brunette in the passenger seat then gets in the driver seat pulling off. This happened so fast that Leilani didn’t piece the puzzle together just yet. She got into the driver side of the expensive car and just sat there for a second after cranking it up.

Then it clicked, this is his car. Quickly, she shuffled through his arm rest, a holder that held his folders and even under the seat until she checked the glove compartment. Bingo.

Hair ties, lipgloss, panties, and makeup for a quick re fix along with pictures of them being together. Tears fell as she flipped through the photos knowing that was the answer she sought.

“I’m falling in love with a man that is in a relationship. I’m so stupid!”

She lets out a frustrated scream repeatedly hitting the steering wheel. " I'm so fucking stupid ugh!.” Blood dripped from her hands but to her the pain felt good.

—

I told you, you better stay prayed up

You never thought the universe be looking for revenge

—

Her previous love attempts were failures, and this is the tip of the iceberg. Life is crumbling down like she is being stabbed in the same spot over and over again. She put the car in drive, heading the nearest store.

Liquor Store to be exact.

—

You can't keep just doing them girls like that

Thinking that nobody finna bite back

Losing your mind, baby

Can't be sure, time's wasting

—

“Please don’t fear me, I’m just karma.” She sung lowly walking into the liquor store. The security camera gave her a chance to look at her appearance. Her hair was all over, the makeup gave away that she been crying and her hands were bloody.

“That’ll be 25.87 ma’am.” The cashier responded, looking her up and down, she put 40 dollars in his hand.

“Keep the change.”

She took the plastic wrapping off the top and opened it. Leilani gave herself a shot, feeling the nasty burn when she swallowed. She got into the car and drove all the way to her sister's house.

Leilani sat on the porch, staring at the stars while drinking. The wind starts to blow, and she took a shot for every thought that ran through her mind.

Ryelle lifted herself up from the crying mess she was on the bed. She wanted to take a break from having a cluttered mind. Putting on some crocs, Ry walks downstairs to go out the door. “Lei?” She questioned, trying to see if that was her sister. She was correct.

“Hmm?”

She walked closer to her sister, seeing her having a big liquor bottle in her lap. “You good sis?”

Her low eyes looked up to her sister, “Hell nawl but it is what is, you know. I put my love into the wrong guys.” Ryelle politely sat her ass the fuck down, then grabbed the bottle, untwisted the cap, and flicked that bitch. She chugged a great amount, using the back of her hand to clean her mouth when finishing.

“Tell me the fuck about it!”

“Henry made me feel special like in some moments, I can’t look him the face out of nervousness from that he is so damn fine. Is it bad that I want to fuck that man everyday.”

“You’re not lying. Our men were a fine piece of art.”

“Can I vent to you about Henry?”

“Baby the floor is all yours.”

“We were literally sitting on the hood of his car waiting on you guys and this girl pulls up fast as fuck. I’m dead ass confused and I tried to question him but I choked up, a thousand things going through my mind Ry. He barely answers, throws me the keys then dipped with her. I went through his shit in his car.” Leilani sat up on that ending sentence.

“No, the fuck you didn’t!”Ryelle glanced at her, interested. Lei gave her a “You know I’m mf serious.” look.

“I did, and my intuition was right! That girl is his girlfriend! Panties, makeup, hair ties, the whole fix. We fucked in that car before the dinner! Ugh! I’m a home wrecker!”

“Lei you didn’t know but then again it’s fucked up that he did that. How much this bottle cost? This shit good.”

“25.87. What took you and Chris so long to let us know when to leave?”

“His fiancé walks up on up while we’re in the middle of kissing. Literally, after I told him I love him like a little bitch. I was rushing things and she snapped me out of reality. I took Liv back, and we left.”

“Damn. Take another shot after I take mine.”

“Bet.”

Leilani took a shot and Ry did too.

“What happened to your hands?” Ryelle took notice of her bloodied hands and softly grabbed them to inspect them better.

“They’re fine.”

“No, they’re not, and you know it. Let’s go in so I can heal you up.” Ryelle head swayed back and forth. Her body couldn't be still, definitely indicating that she's drunk.

“Okay fine.” Leilani stood up and then made her way up the steps. When Ryelle got up, her body began to lean forward, and Lei quickly grabbed her sister.

“Ry! Girl!”

Ry was laughing so hard she was wheezing. “Bitch I almost fell forward.”

Lei laughed at her stupidity. “You sure do know how to make a bitch feel better.” She wrapped her arms around her favorite person in the world, and they stumbled into the house.

—————-

Ryelle woke up around 6; her dream mainly consisted of what happened at dinner and afterward. She walked downstairs, straight to the refrigerator, taking out strawberries. Ry debated making eggs and decided to wait until she woke up Lively.

She walked back upstairs to wake her babygirl. Sitting on the bed, Ry rubbed Liv’s back. “Good morning baby.”

Those eyes she loves to see every morning opened. Lively rubbed them first then the eyelids drooped. “Good morning, momma.”

“Do you want eggs?”

“Yes.”

“Well let’s go to the kitchen then sweetheart.”

Ryelle stood from the bed holding out her hand. Lively gladly took her hand and they walked to the kitchen together.

“Mommy, can we add cheese to them?” Lively pushed over the stool as Ryelle grabbed the ingredients. Lastly, Ry placed a frying pan on the stove. "Yes, my love." The two worked together (Mostly Ryelle) to make cheese eggs. When finished, she prepared them a bowl bringing it to the couch.

"Mommy, can we go on a walk to the park?" Lively questioned when finishing her food. Ryelle haven't walked around the neighborhood in a while. "Yes, we can after cleaning up behind ourselves."

Lively gave her a smile as she quickly got up going to the kitchen. After Ryelle got up to put her bowl up, she picked up Lively, and they walked upstairs. It was a bit gloomy today, so Ry checked the weather when she touched her phone. It's supposed to rain in the evening around 5pm, and now it is 7:20 a.m.

She got Lively ready and got herself ready.

Someone rang the doorbell, catching their attention. "Who is that?" Lively questioned as she got up from the couch, setting the iPad aside. Ryelle shrugged her shoulders, making her way to the door. "I don't know but stay near the couch baby."

"Yes, ma'am." Lively looked skeptical but grabbed her iPad again. She opened the door to see someone holding a vase of roses with an edible arrangement. "Yes?"

"Hi, I'm dropping off this beautiful package to Ryelle! Hope you enjoy!" The woman gave Ryelle the things and then left. Ry walked to the kitchen, still in confusion about who had sent this. She had smelled the beautiful roses. The fruit caught Lively's attention, and she came over to her mother.

"Momma, can I have a fruit, please?" She placed her hands on the bottom to turn the arrangement around. Ryelle didn't hear her at first as she read the card.

"My life is amazing as long as you're in it. - Chris Evans"

The feelings she had for Chris wanted to shoot fireworks in the air but she hoped this isn't his form of apology. Ryelle is angry. Angry at the fact that she was confused about her feelings for him. She doesn't know if she wants to be done with him. Ryelle needs too though because why did he send her this when obviously he chose Minka? She just sat the card down, and Lively calling her name brought her back. "Mommy?"

"H-Huh? I'm sorry babygirl, Mommy zoned out there for a minute. What is it?" Ryelle shook her head, fighting the urge to smell the roses again. Lively points at the shaped fruit, "I want the pineapples."

"Okay, baby." She grabbed a plate from the drying rack then placed 4 pieces of fruit onto the plate then gave it to Lively.

"Thank you mommy."

"You're welcome, baby."

The two walked back to the couch. The whole going to the park thing was thrown to the side when receiving the gift, and now all Ryelle want is either wine or weed. Something has to get her mind off him. "Lively, do you still feel like going to the park? We can go get something to eat from wherever you want it from."

That excited her daughter, "I wanna go to chic fil a so I can go down slide."

A phone call interrupted their conversation, and Ryelle glanced at the caller I.D." Keep hold of that thought bubble. It's your Father calling babygirl." Lively nodded watching her mother press the green button.

"Hello?" "Hey Ry, I... I called to check on you."

Before Ryelle could finish Lively, who clearly doesn't know the vibe of the phone call, spoke in excitement to her father.

"Daddy!!"

"Hey Babygirl, I miss you!"

"I miss you too, daddy. When you come home?"

"Um, it'll be a while, Liv."

That's when the pouting started, and Ryelle wanted to finish the phone call before Liv's feelings are hurt. She cleared her throat.

"We're fine Chris. We were just about to go somewhere for lunch."

"Okay...Okay."

Liv interrupted their moment of silence,"Daddy why you not come home? Did I do something?" Over the line, Chris sighs not knowing how to answer.

"No...No baby, it's not you. Mommy and I just have to talk about some things."

'We ain't got to talk about shit' Ryelle thought to herself. Liv grabs the phone out her hand.

"Wel-Well can you come with us to lunch today?"

Ry looked at her daughter's crazy manner but bit her tongue. She didn't want to ruin Liv's dream, but then again she feels like it was too soon to see him again.

Chris didn't know if Ry even wanted him there, so it was a hitch in his answer. "Uh-"

"Please, daddy? Please?"

"Fine, baby girl, I will go to lunch with you guys."

-------------

Yeahhhh part 3 bitches!!

I have plans to drop a couple more posts, so be on the watch!

Stay slutty my friends.

#chris evans x ofc #chris evans x original female character #chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #chris evans x black women #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x ofc #chris evans x woc!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader #henry cavill x reader

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Serendipitous Love: A Fortunate Accident

Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 2.3k

Warning: Other than cursing, none.

Synopsis: Reader is in a café minding her own business but catches Chris’ interview and has some words of wisdom that Chris happens to overhear.

Note: Based on Chris’ “laser focused” interview. Yeah, it’s late but I’m always late. LOL.

 Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG

 ***Not Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~~

You’d spent the day working. From six in the morning until now, six in the evening. You’d barely taken a break except one or two stops at food or refreshment stalls along designated park and city locations. You’d had a few caffeinated drinks and a granola bar or two. Other than that, you’d been too busy, too wrapped up in everything you had to get done before the day ended. Now you were tired, starving, and ready to go home but you were sitting in this upscale café going through the tens and tens of pictures you’d taken and getting a head start on the editing and touch-up process. You were on a deadline and every minute counted.

 “Can I get you anything to eat?”

 You jerked your head up to look at the dark-haired beauty who was waiting with a smile and a notepad.

 “Uh---I wish. If I ordered it, I wouldn’t eat it anyway.”

 “Too busy writing?”

 “Writing? No.”

 “You’re not a writer?”

 “Nope,” you replied.

 “Wow, I’m sorry. You look like a writer.”

 You smiled; this wasn’t the first time you’d heard that. “No, not a writer. I’m a photographer and painter.

 Her eyes lit up and she smiled wider. “Really? Wow, interesting combo. What do you shoot? How do you combine them?”

 “Uh—well there are many different ways especially since I dabble in all types of photography. A lot of times I do the shoots and then bring it to canvas in different ways. For instance, this picture.”

 You showed her the photo of the sun peeking through a fully bloomed cherry blossom tree. She “oohed” and “aahed” as if she’d never seen a picture like it before.

 “That’s beautiful, the way you captured the light, so it looks ethereal and divine to make the cherry blossoms look so romantic.”

 You smiled at her compliment then continued, “I’m touching it up trying to bring out the best so when I get in my studio, I’ll bring it to life on the canvas incorporating elements of this using tangible things like the petals of cherry blossom, specks of leaves from the tree. Hopefully when I’m done, if I’ve done it right, it looks like the photo is alive.”

 You looked at the waitress who looked transfixed on the photo before her.

 “Wow, that’s—incredible.”

 She gasped then looked at you. “Oh my god, are you—you are, aren’t you?”

 She did a small jump then smiled wider. “You have to be. You’re Y/F/N & Y/L/N. Right?”

 You smiled and nodded slightly ducking your head from embarrassment. You liked to keep a low profile even though your work was blowing up and had been for the last two years. Attention always made you uncomfortable, always made you self-conscious. Maybe it came from years and years of art school being the loner girl who stuck to her art and the off beaten paths.

 Whereas other artists loved to bask in the glory of their fame by doing interviews and photoshoots trying to spread their name and face; you liked to do the opposite. You’d turned down the majority of offers for photoshoots and interviews that wanted to throw your picture all over the internet and magazines and opted for those who focused on your art rather than you. You liked to believe that the art spoke for itself and said everything you wanted the world to know.

 “Oh my god, my boyfriend is a huge, huge fan of your work. I am too. It’s so original and unique.”

 “Thank you.”

 “I’m in art school too and we’ve done several projects centered around your pieces and those classes are always my favorite.”

 You did your best to fight off the embarrassment that was rising in you.

 “How—how did you know it was me?”

 “By your work. It speaks for itself. No one else can replicate it. No one else can come close.”

 You smiled with pride feeling like your message truly did come through in your art. It did speak for itself.

 “Can I have your autograph?”

 She held out her notepad and you froze. This did not happen often. Maybe if you happened to be at a gallery where your work was on display, but those events are far and in between because you always opted out of being at galleries when you stuff was being shown. It made you cringe to watch people inspect and critique your work. It took a few moments for you to snap out of your awkwardness and reach for her notepad. You signed your name, asked her what hers was, then added a nice message

 “Alissa, don’t give up, work hard and remember if you love the art, the art will speak all on its own. Thank you.”

 When she looked at it you thought she would have an aneurysm from how wide her eyes went.

 “Thank you so much!”

 You nodded then a few voices around you gasped. You looked around then looked to the nearby seventy-inch TV. An interview was coming back from commercial.

 “Oh my god, it’s Chris Evans,” Alissa the waitress exclaimed.

 You pinched your lips at her reaction. You may be a loner and like to keep your anonymity, but you knew about the world’s most famous and desired baby blues. He was on the opposite spectrum than you. He was everywhere all the time. You cringed thinking about his lack of privacy and the anxiety that possibly caused him. You knew it would destroy you.

 “Oh my god he is so fucking hot,” Alissa continued.

 You snorted but when she looked back at you, you realized it hadn’t been as quiet as you’d thought.

 “You don’t think so?”

 You studied the man on the dazzling display tv and went over the mauve colored shirt he wore that worked with his complexion and the full scruffy beard that was well groomed and fit him perfectly then the tightness of his shirt around his biceps. The man loved his smedium shirts, you thought.

 “Um—do you?”

 “Of course. My god look at those eyes, his lips, he is completely symmetrical and photogenic then his physique—he was built with a woman in mind.”

 You snorted again then pressed the back of your hand to your mouth.

 “Wow. You boyfriend must be very secure.”

 She giggled, “A girl can dream, can’t she?”

 You nodded then looked back to the tv. Something felt off. “I don’t know don’t you think he’s---a little—too--.”

 “Hot? Yes.”

 You smirked and shook your head. “No, perfect. He always appears so perfect. Either what he wears or his image. Maybe it’s his team but he doesn’t seem realistic. It seems like there is this illusion that is painted across a canvas for the world to see and believe and I don’t know—I’m not fully buying it. The world is so hellbent on idealizing him and making him seem like prince charming that it washes away the real man—whoever he may be.”

 Alissa bobbed her head from side to side as if she was trying to see what you saw but she shrugged. “Illusion or not, real man or not he’s still hot. That’s what matters.”

 She walked off to tend to other customers but as you looked back to the screen you shook your head slightly. “Is it though? Must be a lonely life,” you said out loud to yourself.

  ~~~~~~

 -Chris-

He was frozen. Over the course of the last five or so minutes he’d gone through a few emotions. Curiosity, intrigue, humor, embarrassment, and now stupor.

 “It seems like there is this illusion that is painted across a canvas for the world to see and believe and I don’t know—I’m not fully buying it.”

 The words of the woman he was sitting behind clung to him.

 “The world is so hellbent on idealizing him and making him seem like prince charming that it washes away the real man—whoever he may be.”

 He didn’t know what to say or think. This woman, whoever she was really saw through all of this. Apart from being slightly offended, he was more interested to know more of what you thought about him. In his world, everyone told him what he wanted to hear, everyone treated him like this big shot whose shit didn’t stink, everyone kissed his ass and tried to curry favor with him, man, or woman. He never knew who was genuine, never knew what people really thought about him. While most of his interactions in the field were genuine in how he portrayed himself, he often found it difficult to really and truly be vulnerable the way he could be with his friends and family. This woman whoever she was saw right through the Hollywood smoke and mirrors game. He was both impressed and cautious because she’d seen through it.

 A snort caught his attention, and he looked back to her table. He was fully blocked thanks to the impressively tall palm leaves that were used as both décor and privacy barriers. He sidled closer and listened in. From the tv, he heard the beginning of the question he knew was coming and slightly cringed from how exposed he’d made himself with this one reply.

 “Chris, your character is pretty obsessed with tracking down Sierra six. Is there anything in your life that you’ve been that laser focused on?”

 The restaurant was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It was like everyone was sitting on the edge of their seats waiting for his answer. He looked up and watched his awkward babbling and fidgeting.

 “Ya’ know, we’re gonna do this. I’m gonna—I’m gonna give you a good answer. Uuh—the answer would be that—may—maybe laser focused on fi—finding a uh—a—a partner ya’ know. someone that you wanna liv—ya’ know look I love what I do, it’s great and I pour all of myself into it but, but e—even this industry is full of pockets of doubt and hesitation and recalibration. In—in terms of really trying to find something that you really pour all of yourself into may—maybe it’s about trying to find someone that you—you’re looking—looking to spend your life with. So—so maybe that.”

 He cringed again but not because he was being disingenuous but because he was too raw. He felt too exposed. He didn’t know what possesed him to be that open. Maybe it was being asked such a good question, an original question that his mind went blank, and he got real. A bevy of “awws” erupted around the café and he shook his head, but it was the one scoff that perked him up.

 “Wow.”

 He watched her lean back in her seat and cross her arms. She didn’t speak right away instead she stared at the tv though he was no longer on it, and it had changed to some other random interview clip from someone else. For some reason, he wanted to know what she was thinking. What other read had she picked up off of him?

 “Interesting. Guess he’s never heard when you seek it evades and when you relax it finds,” she said.

 He wanted to see your face now. Who was this woman who flung her thoughts and opinions about people around so freely?

 “Everyone knows that when you try to find love you never find it. The universe sends love to you hence, love finds you. If you want it too badly only heartache will come. Serendipitous love, a fortunate accident.”

 She sighed then he watched you look to your phone then spring into action packing your things up.

 “Excuse me, that was beautiful,” a woman at a nearby table said to her.

 He watched but only caught a half glance at the side of her face. She timidly smiled then nodded.

 “Oh, it’s uh--something my grandmother always says.”

 With that she picked up her bags, dropped a fifty-dollar bill onto the table then walked away and out of the café. He was stunned speechless as he thought about her words.

 “Serendipitous love, a fortune accident,” he repeated tasting the words on his tongue. They tasted sweet--like a sweet promise.

 With a smirk on his lips, he stood, dropped a hundred-dollar bill then placed his sunglasses on his face. That was when he walked to the waitress she was speaking to minutes before. He made sure to keep his head down, this would be the worst time to get recognized.

 “Excuse me.”

 She spun around with a smile, but he kept his head down and turned to the side.

 “Can I help you, sir?”

 “Yes. The uh—the woman you were speaking to over there,” he began pointing at the now empty table. “The photographer.”

 “Yeah.”

 “What did you say her name was?”

 “Y/F/N & Y/L/N.”

 He repeated your name, tasting it on his tongue. A soft smile spread his lips before he scoffed and nodded.

 “She’s an amazing artist,” the waitress continued. “Check her out if you haven’t already.”

 He nodded then thanked her and walked out of the café. He looked right and left then saw her a block down with her camera raised high lost behind her lens. He could have rushed down the street to you but stopped himself.

 “A fortunate accident.”

 He smiled to himself.

 “Chris, over here,” Megan said waving him over to the waiting black SUV.

 With one more glance to her direction he sighed then stepped ahead climbing into the truck.

 “Y/F/N & Y/L/N,” he whispered once more as the truck pulled off passing you in the process, but you were still lost in your lens, seeing but not seeing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

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#serendipitous love: a fortunate accident fic #serendipitous love fic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x ofc #slow burn fanfic #black fanfiction

[saturnville]

holy matrimony.

pairing: chris evans x reader. requested: yes. for @marvelstarker-mha98 warning: none!

Education was a portal to a world unknown. A motto she lived and breathed by. It was the motivation needed to pull herself out of bed, put on her best outfit, and show up for not only her students, but for herself. To keep the legacy of educators alive. 

She was a middle school teacher--8th grade physical science, to be exact. She assumed the desire to be an educator was passed through genetic DNA. Her father held a Ph.D. in literature and taught Shakepearan studies at a local community college while her mother, a doctor, taught at one of the medical schools just twenty minutes outside of her hometown. And similarly, her brother had the intention of becoming a history teacher for high school students. She was born into a family that lived to learn, and she hoped to pour that same love of knowledge into her students. 

The start to her day wasn’t sunshine and rainbows as it typically had been. No, her morning was a whirlwind. The dryer ate her favorite pair of socks, she ran out of coffee pods for her coffee machine, her hair refused to cooperate, and her outfit didn’t present itself in the way she pictured. She was left to wear a simple dress with sandals, to put her hair in a ponytail, and to visit the nearest coffee shop on her way to school. 

She trudged through the double doors of the school. Her smile wavered as she greeted fellow faculty, staff, and students. She made it to her classroom, her safe space, within five minutes. Open flew the door as she pushed it with heavy hands. 

It was quiet and the sun shone through the curtains she hung up. The earthly decor around her brought peace and calmed her nerves. She walked to her desk, where she dropped her belongings at her desk and sat in her newly purchased rolling chair.

Soft hums came from her as she prepared to organize her space. She had an hour until the students came to class, which gave her the opportunity to collect her mind and aura before they arrived. As she began to mess around her desk, she noticed a small notecard next to a box of chocolates and a small bear in the corner. 

Curiously, she gently took the card into her hands and read it softly to herself, “Happy Monday, my love. I hope today is a great day, full of smiles and full of joy. Love, CE.”

A smile pulled at her lips and suddenly the stress she felt began to alleviate. Her boyfriend of a year, Chris, was the definition of the man of her dreams. Everything that she could have asked for, wrapped into a teddy bear of a man whom she loved. They had a traditional relationship and it worked for them. He honored, valued, and respected her from the depths of his being.

She reread the letter and caresses the bear until the bell rang and the footsteps of students flooded the halls. She shook off her nerves and opened her classroom door, where she was greeted with smiling children, each holding a white rose in their hands. 

“Good morning, kiddos. What’s up with the flowers, did you guys hang out outside before class?” she asked. She was met with giggles and hushed laughs. She raised an eyebrow and glanced around the room in confusion. 

“What’s going on, honies? What’re you guys hiding? You’re so silly!”

“We have a surprise for you, Miss Jones!” 

She placed her hand on her chest and smild gleefully. “What is it?” The students instructed her to sit down at her desk. She obeyed their instruction, and one by one, the children walked to her and gave her a flower. By the time the last chld came up to her, she had twenty five roses in her possession. 

Her cheeks hurt from the joyful smile that played on her lips. It only grew wider when a familar presence entered the room. “Hi, sweetheart.” Chris. With those twinkling blue eyes and jaw-dropping smile. His hands were crossed behind his back as he shuffled into the room. 

“Heard you weren’t having the best week, and well, I don’t like seeing you like this, and neither do the kiddos…so I asked them to help me out, right?”

A chorus of yesses filled the room. She laughed softly and dug her nose into her flowers. 

“They told me that they love their Miss Jones because she’s the best person ever. Loving, kind, gentle, patient. And I couldn’t agree more,” Chris made his way to her chair and took her left hand into his. “Because of you, I’ve had the best year of my life. A year of love, growth, enew experiences, and you have made a better man, in so many ways. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and so, I want to ask, will you marry me?”

Her dream ring shone in front of her brighter than stars in the sky. It was quaint, just as she liked it. But boy, did it sparkle. Behind him, her students encouraged her to say yes until their voices scratched and no more sound could come out. 

Through tears, she said, “A thousand times yes.”

Chris grinned and slid the ring onto her finger. She was engulfed in a hug that knocked her off her feet. For a few moments, she forgot where she was. Until she felt a tug on her clothes. 

“Does this mean we can come to the wedding?” 

She nodded and welcomed in her students into their hug, “Absolutely.”

#chris evans x black ofc #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #cevans x reader #original writing #saturnville #original content

[ughdontbeboring]

yall…what the fuck is Christopher Robert Jamal Evans doing! I mean that thang is hanging!

his pants are literally stugglingggg struggling to hold that dick up 🥹 if i dont get that dick in my mouf sooooooon

literally a crime to humanity that you havent shared that thang with me 🤷🏽‍♀️

#Chris Evans #i want chris evans #christopher jamal evans #christopher robert evans #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans blurb #chris evans headcanon #chris evans x ofc #cevans #chris evans x black women #Chris Evans x reader #Chris Evans x you #chris Evans x yn #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber #steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve Roger smut #ari levinson #ari LEVINSON x you #ari levinson x reader #ari leavison x yn

[ingeniousmindoftune]

STALKERS REMORSE

Prologue on the way.

Chris Evans as 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 Kyle Conners.

Normani as Y/N.

Taglist: @skyesthebomb @hinatasfleshlight @zenxn20 @pearlkitten33 @rainedabrat16 @lovesanimals0000 @briana-mishell24 @piccasoe @littlebvbie @wandasbitxh @star017 @panicsinvirgo @wh0reforbucknasty @90sisthenew80s @rosegoldcoco @xsweetdellzx @laylasbunbunny

Description: After tragedy strikes Y/N’s home and she flees town, going back home to live with her mother, to escape her stalker for on and off of five years, she soon finds her safety ground.. in the detective behind her assault and murder of her beloved boyfriend. But what she doesn’t realize is there’s a dangerous plot twist to Detective Conners help.

Y/N

Kyle Conner

Boyfriend- Timothy Jonson

Arrested stalker//ex boyfriend - Evan Morgan

#black writer #black fanfiction #black writers #imagines #black reader #ingeniousmindoftune #dark fic #dark romance #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black ofc #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x black women #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x dark #chris evans dark #chris evans x smut #chris evans x fluff #jensen ackles #normani kordei #bucky x reader #bucky barnes

[marvelmadam08]

Baby Blues 20/?

 Summary: It’s Ace’s first Thanksgiving, and Alex and Chris have everything under control.... right?

Warning: Swearing (that’s it)

~~~~~~~

15 Weeks (and 2 Days) Old

"Okay Alexander, this is a big day for us. Mama is hoping to get some good news today." Alex swayed from foot to foot while she fed Ace and refreshed her email and kept checking her phone for any missed texts. 

She had sent in some drafts to her editor, Sarah, who she was hoping to hear back from today. If all went well then she'd get an advance on her next book, and then discuss scheduling for a future book tour. 

Chris had wrapped with filming a few days ago and Alex loved catching up on her sleep because of it. She and Chris had a new morning routine, she got up with Ace to feed him, then Chris would have him after his first nap and for a bit of playtime while Alex got to go back to sleep.

“Al, we have to be at my mom’s in an hour.” he reminded her, seeing her still dressed in her sweats 

“I know, I’m just waiting to hear back from Sarah.” 

“It’s Thanksgiving, she’s probably eating. Which we won’t get to do if we’re late for dinner.” he swatted her on the butt “Go, get dressed.”

“Did you just spank me?”

"And I'm gonna do it again if you don't go get dressed."

“I still have to get all the bags together.”

“I’ll get our stuff, you go get dressed.” Chris steered her out of the office “I got this.”

“Don’t forget the carrier or my breast pump.” Alex checked under the sling, Ace was going in and out of sleep while still trying to breastfeed “That’s right, get milk drunk and sleep all the way to grandma’s house.”

Alex hurried to get ready once Ace had given into his impending nap, throwing on some jeans, a clean blouse, and some light makeup. Since it’s Ace’s first Thanksgiving, Alex knows pictures would be taken, and she’d rather look less tired than she actually was.

“Al, I’m wasting away.” Chris whined, he was halfway out the door with the carrier in one hand and his keys in the other. 

Alex slung her purse under her arm, well purse/ Ace’s secondary baby bag. Anything that didn’t fit inside the baby bag was in Alex’s oversized purse. “I’m gonna forget something if you keep rushing me.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Where are the bags?”

“I put them in the car.”

“Did you remember my breast pump?” Alex started to drift towards the kitchen when Chris pulled her back and gently towards the door.

“Yes I did, it’s in the car.”

“Where’s Dodger?”

“Peeing on a tree in the front yard.”

“What about-”

“Al, everything is in the car except you.” Chris punched in the code to the house alarm and shuffled Alex out the door 

Dodger came happily strolling up to Alex, while Chris placed the carrier in the car. 

“In you go Bubs.” Alex encouraged the pup to hop in the back seat, smiling as he curled up next to the carrier. “Good boy, Dodger.”

“Everybody in?” Chris waited until Alex was buckled in before pulling out of the drive. Alex was back on her phone, checking her emails again, but still nothing. Chris reached over and poked at her thigh “Stop checking, your gonna overthink. You’re a talented writer and when Sarah does respond- it’ll be good news.”

“I’m gonna overthink either way. This one is different from my other books, it’s more personal.”

“Personal how? What’s the book about? You usually let me read your drafts before you send them in.”

Alex hesitated “Some of the situations in the book are- kind of based off a few of my real-life experiences, but I don’t want to jinx it by talking about it.”

“Fine, I won’t ask about your secret book anymore, as long as you put your phone down. It’s Thanksgiving, our son’s first, be in the moment.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m here, in the moment and at this current moment I’m nervous and hungry.” Dodger whined softly, sniffing around the car. “What’s up, Dodger?”

“I think he wants the window down, but Ace is back there.” Chris glances at the pup in the rearview mirror. Dodger howled and pawed at the seats, trying to push his way to the front seat before giving up and whining again. “Hey- Dodge, stop that, you know better.” Chris chides 

“What’s the matter Dodge, you gotta potty again?” Alex turned to pet and soothe him when she saw that the carrier was empty "Chris, where's Ace?"

"What do you mean 'where's Ace', you didn’t put him in the car?"

"No, I didn’t put him in the car, didn’t you have him with you in the carrier?"

"You were feeding him, I thought you had him." Chris glanced in the rearview mirror to find Dodger whining at the empty car seat "Shit-"

After a possible illegal U-turn and a lot of angry drivers, Chris was speeding back towards the house, Alex gripped the handle on her door. 

"I can't believe we left him in the house. We're horrible parents. First the squirrel and now this, he's probably so scared right now.”

"We're not bad parents, just stay calm. It's fine, Ace is fine- move your car asshole the light is green!" Chris honked and served around the driver who was too busy texting to notice “Get off your fucking phone, you fucking idiot!”

“How did we forget our baby? Dodger noticed it before we did, we could’ve been damn near halfway to your mom’s before we even realized!”

The car jerked to a sudden stop in the drive, and both Chris and Alex launched themselves out of the car and ran back in the house. 

“Alexander.” Chris ran to the bedroom, Alex right behind him. Ace was still fast asleep on the bed, safe and sound. “He’s fine, he’s fine.”

“Thank goodness.” Alex sighed then smiled “And he’s still sleeping.”

The security alarm went off throughout the house, Ace was startled awake and wailed.

 >>>>>

“One more, one more.” Lisa smiled snapping another picture of Alex holding Ace, wearing a bib with a colorful turkey on it and words reading ‘gobble gobble’

“Ma, please give my wife a break.” Chris asked on Alex’s behalf

Lisa nods “You’re right. It’s your turn anyways.”

Chris chuckled but switched places with Alex, pulling Ace into his arms. Lisa began taking more pictures. Alex feels her phone buzzing in her pocket, she pulls it out and sees Sarah’s name on the screen. She slips away into the kitchen.

“Hey Sarah, please tell me you have good news.”

“I wouldn’t interrupt your Thanksgiving if I didn’t. Jamie, put the pie down!” Sarah sighed “I sent in your drafts, and they loved them. They love how personal and real it felt, and greenlit the book.”

Alex’s smile is the first thing Chris notices when he comes into the kitchen.

“They love my drafts and they want more.” she cheered

“That’s my girl” Chris scooped her up in a tight bear hug “I’m so proud of you Al.”

“Thanks babe.”

“You’re welcome.” Sarah laughed

“Oh sorry, Sarah. Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem, now please enjoy the rest of your Thanksgiv- Jamie I said no more pie! I gotta go, we’ll talk more about the deal tomorrow.”

“Okay, no problem. Happy Thanksgiving.” Alex danced once she hung up the phone

“Happy now?”

“Ecstatic! Where’s Ace?” 

“My mom has him, and she’s not letting him go anytime soon.” Chris paused “What are we gonna do about Ace?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you start working again, and I’m off filming and doing interviews for ASP, who’s with Ace?”

“I’ll have him with me.”

Chris shook his head “Al, while I don’t doubt your multitasking skill, you’re gonna burn yourself out trying to juggle everything alone. We’re gonna need some help.”

Alex did her best not to pout. “We don’t need a nanny, we can handle this. He’s asleep most of the day and I can use that time to write. And when he’s awake he gets my attention.”

“Al- Ace’s sleep schedule is all over the place right now and what happens when we both have work meetings and interviews? We still have Dodge to look after too. Just look at what happened today, you have to admit an extra set of hands would help us out.” Chris cradles her face gently

“Don’t say it.”

“It might be time for us to get a nanny.” 

#Chris Evans #the gray man #dad!chris #chris evans x black ofc #marvel #babyblues #disney d23

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Stretching my fanfic writing muscles.

I know there is a lot of overlap in the Henry Cavill and Chris Evans fandoms. I want to explore a bit and venture out.

But...

The only way I'm writing Chris Evans fanfic is if it's dark. Now, bestow upon me your thots and I'll make some drabbles. Bonus points for murdery bits. Bonus bonus points for Andy or Ransom or Steve or Lloyd.

See? I do like Chris. But mostly only if it's dark. No happy endings here kiddos. Also, been listening to this nonstop so I'm feeling in the mood.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x black!ofc #andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x black reader #Spotify

[a-moment-captured]

This man straight up served every look during his Lightyear press tour! How are we going to handle The Gray Man press tour?! The hair, the gray in his beard, the necklace, tattoos peaking, that damn wifebeater always giving us tiny glimpses, and then ending with the greatest interview ever: Chris Evans playing with puppies!

#chris evans #christopher robert evans #c evans #buzz lightyear #lightyear #Disney #Pixar #christopher jamal evans #chris evans x you #chris evans headcanon #chris evans blurb #chris evans puppy interview #chris evans imagines #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x ofc

[cevansbrat0007]

Bunnies Behaving Badly

Summary: When you and your girls decide to attend a Halloween Party for charity, you accidentally forget to share a few important specifics with your men. Featuring Andy Barber, Ari Levinson, & Curtis Everett

Warnings: Shenanigans, Hot Men, Possessive & Andy/Ari/Curtis, Bratty Reader, Bratty OFCs, Skimpy Outfits, Alcohol Consumption, Cursing, Violence (mentioned), Smut, Punishments (mentioned), Vibrator, Ball Gag, Belt Spanking (mentioned), Anal Sex, Daddy!Kink, Orgasm Denial (mentioned), Minors DNI

A/N: First, thanks to everyone who sent or posted messages of support. I appreciate them and you. I’ve since gone off to start getting some professional help for what’s happening with both my mind and body. So yeah, I’m in the hospital again, but it’s okay. Anyways, this story includes appearances from Ari and Curtis. Hope you enjoy the randomness. Please send your feedback. Not beta’d. All mistakes my own.

You stood in the mirror finishing the final touches on your, erm, Halloween costume for tonight’s big charity event. You had initially been roped into going by your girls, Ruby and Story.

Ruby was married to Andy’s friend Curtis, while Story was dating his other longtime friend, Ari. While you didn’t know either man super well, they had always seemed nice enough. Maybe a little on dark and broody side.

But to be fair, your Andy Bear wasn’t exactly Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky all the time either.

While they supported your charitable efforts with their own respective donations, you were thankful that they were unable to attend due to a standing poker game that they just could not miss.

It’s not that you wouldn’t miss them, oh no. It was more like they wouldn’t be a fan of their chosen ensembles: sinful, sexy bunnies.

In fact, you were certain that your man would hit the fucking roof if even got a hint of what you we’re rocking under your trench coat. Which is exactly why you had encouraged Ruby and Story to bring a change of clothes with them.

Because if your sweet, loving Andy Barber ever saw your outfit…he’d have an aneurysm on the spot. As would Curtis and Ari.

Because their ladies had bought matching outfits in different colors. Ruby’s was black, while Story had chosen red.

If you were being honest, your outfit was a more than a little outside your comfort zone. But oh well. You worked hard for your body, so why not show it off?

After all, you only lived once right? Your phone buzzes, letting you know that your friends were five minutes away. You spritz on some perfume, throw your heels into your bag, and take off down the stairs.

Sucking in a nervous breath you slip into your man’s study to quickly kiss him goodbye. He holds up a finger, telling you wait for him to wrap up his call.

Your Andy was big on proper goodbyes between you too. And he became exceptionally grumpy when he didn’t his way. So you blow him another case and race for the door.

You’re halfway down the front steps when your boyfriend wrenches open the front door. “Hey! Come back here, sweetheart! I need my kisses damn it!” He growls into the night air.

“We’re already late, baby!” You call back it him. “You’ll have to settle for ‘em later. I love you!” You tell him before throwing yourself in the backseat of Ruby’s vehicle.

“Drive girls, before my man comes down here.”

You watch as your boyfriend glares at the car, his arms folded over his chest, as you take off into the darkness.

“Oh, my God!” Ruby exhales as winds her way down a curvy dark road. “Do you ladies know how hard it was to get out of the house without Curtis going through my stuff? I had to show him my back-up outfit to get him to calm down!” She runs a hand through her caramel colored locks.

You and Story let out a collective groan.

“At least you didn’t have to blow your man in order distract him long enough to let you dip out of the house. I had to literally suck the soul out of his giant body, leave him in a daze, and then slip away.” She ruffles her deep red curls.

“Well, I got lucky. Andy was on the phone. So I gave him a smooch goodbye and flew out of there. Whew, talk about timing!” You smooth your hands over your pinned-up blue black curls. “By the way, nice hair, Story. Love the look, babe.”

“Thanks, boo. My man wasn’t a fan at first, but as soon as he saw what I was rocking underneath - he was on his knees for me so fast.”

You all giggle, before shifting topics. This wouldn’t be your typical Halloween party, and not just because it was for charity. The invitation had encouraged attendees to wear outfits that were a little on the skimpy side. However, the invite also came with a set of rules, a drink limit, and a promise that disrespect of any kind would not be tolerated.

All good things.

Regardless, you hadn’t even bothered showing it to Andy. He would have snatched it from you, ripped it up, and tossed it in the garbage.

Once you the and girls arrive, you make the necessary changes to our outfits right there in the car. You help each other with makeup, you pull on stilettos, and then you fluff your bunny ears just right.

Damn you all looked good.

You pay your $50 fee and then enter the party. The three of you take in the overall vibe. So far, so good.

The decorations were just the right amount of “spooky” - you’re talking suspicious looking cobwebs, demented looking pumpkins, and eerie life-sized ghouls, zombies, hellhounds, wraiths, changelings, banshees…and more.

Boy, whoever had come with must have been a huge fan of Supernatural…

“Wow.” Story whistles beside you as you make your way to the bar. “Can you believe some of these looks?”

“And I thought ours would be scandalous.” Your other friend murmurs as she struggles to yank her tight, short skirt down to cover her ass.

You lean down to rest arm on the bar, accidentally highlighting your ample cleavage in the process. If your boyfriend had seen you do that, he would’ve thrown his suit jacket over your shoulders and tied the sleeves around your tiny body.

The thought makes you giggle.

“Can we please get, uh, three Witches' Hearts cocktails? They look yummy.” Ruby all but purrs.

“Any thing for you three beautiful bunnies.” You go to pay for the first round but he waves you off.

“It’s on me, you sweet, sexy creatures. Made ‘em extra strong too.” The handsome blonde winks you. “Enjoy.”

The three of you walk around for a while, aimlessly chatting with the people you recognize. Sometimes taking pictures with slutty nurses, naughty witches and warlocks - and a super sexy alien. Yeah, he might have been covered head to toe in sparking green paint, but it was something about his gray eyes and that Greek-god-like build…

As soon as he walks away, you make a show of fanning yourself.

“I call dibs on Lord Zultar over there if ever dump Ari.” She giggles behind her hand. “Oh, who am I kidding? That oversized neanderthal would never let me go.”

“He’d probably handcuff you to him,” Ruby agrees. “I know Curtis threatens to do that to me all of the time.” She finishes with a shrug.

“And my sweet Andy threatens to tie me to the bed anytime he feels like I’m being a brat. It’s all very romantic.” You roll your eyes. “We’re dating a bunch of fucking ogres.”

“Yep - with no hope of escape.” Story mumbles. “We need more drinks!” So back to the bar you go.

This time, that same good looking bartender suggests you try the Black Magic Margaritas, which you do.

Delicious!

You decide to sit and chat amongst yourselves, and sometimes even with Chad, the bartender, when he’s not busy serving other customers.

“Oh, girls!” Ruby exclaims as she peruses the menu. “It’s time for shots. Let do the Wolf's Bane. Hey Chad, you gotta taken one with us too!”

“It would be my pleasure, gorgeous. You pretty ladies just made my whole night!” Chad gets to work, mixing melon and pineapple liquors together, before adding absinthe and a splash of grenadine. He then gives the tumblr a good shake before pouring them in four tall shot glasses.

“Alright, ladies -”

“Wait! Hold on.” You jump on the bar and prompt your friends to do that same. “We need pictures! Story your phone is better than mine.”

With a nod, she hands off her phone to a shimmering siren who agrees to take a couple pics for you.

The first picture is of you and the girls leaning in pretending to kiss Chad, who is smiling from ear to ear. And the next is one of the four of you tossing back your shots. And the third and final one shows you kicking your legs up and smiling like idiots.

Eventually you hop down and order one more drink.

The Corpse Reviver.

The only thing left to really wait for were the results of the Silent Auction. You hadn’t seen much that you were interested in, but you’d bid on a few things anyway.

You and your girls find an open table where you sit and enjoy your cocktails. They were strong, but good. You’d have to go find some food soon.

“Story?” Ruby suddenly asks after she notices the woman quickly tapping away at her phone. “What are you doing?”

“Posting those cute pics to Instagram.”

“No!” You and Ruby shout, each attempting to snatch for her phone. “The guys might see them and - ”

“Oh, hush!” Story waves away your concerns. “None of our guys have social media. Especially not Ari. They will never know.” She throws an arm around each of your necks smacks an affectionate kiss on your cheeks.

“Now, I say we’ve grab one more drink and bounce. Back to the bar bitches!”

Back at Andy’s Place

“I fold.” Andrew mutters, throwing his cards down on the table. “I need to stop playing with a bunch of fucking cheaters.” He glares at his two friends.

“He always like this?” Ari snickers before polishing off his beer.

“What? A little bitch?” Curtis finishes off his drink as well and then belches. “Uh yeah. Ever since I’ve known him.” He runs a hand over his short, dark buzz cut.

“Whatever. Fucking asshats.” Andy takes a bite of cold pizza. “Are we picking up the girls tonight?”

“I think we should. Hate the idea of them being drunk and taking an Uber with some strange fuck. Ruby and I can just go grab her car tomorrow.”

“Fine by me.” Ari agrees, dragging his hands through his long, light brown locks. He rises from the table and grabs his keys. “I’m sure our resident Sweet Andy won’t mind cleaning up this mess.” He says before flashing him a teasing grin.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all, Sunshine Bear.” Andy watches as the other man quickly frowns.

“Jesus fucking Chris, you are both so fucking ridiculous.” Curtis scrubs a hand over his eyes. “Can we just go already?”

“Sure thing, Baby Boo.” Andy and Ari high-five. Meanwhile, Curtis simply rolls his eyes and walks out the door.

Twenty Minutes Later…

You and the girls are in the middle of polishing off your last drink, something called Death in the Afternoon, when Ruby freezes next to you.

“Umm…umm…” That’s when you and Story finally take note of the panic in her voice.

“What? What is it you whisper?” Your eyes scan the room and then you see it. And by it you mean them.

“Shit! Everyone get down!

The three of your hurriedly duck underneath the table. Silently praying that you had suddenly harnessed the power of invisibility.

Maybe you could sneak out of here without them noticing you. Maybe you could…

You and your girls watch in horror as your men approach the bar. And then you see Chad, the bartender, point in the direction of your table.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

Giving him a nod, your large, strapping men come striding over to you.

“Hi ladies.” Andy greets you all. “Me and these losers decided we’d be better off picking you girls up instead of trusting your safety with some random Uber. Ready to go?”

Ari coughs and then does a spin, taking in all of the decorations and whatnot. “I might have come with you next time, my little sprite.” He flashes her smile.

Curtis stares you all down. “Hey, Rubaloo, why are you three hiding under the table?” His big arms go across his chest. “It’s time to go home.”

“But my car…” She whines.

“Will be picked up tomorrow.” He growls softly.

“Could you three, uh maybe turn around and close your eyes for a couple seconds. We - we have a surprise for you…” You offer them all nervous smile.

“No.” They hiss, looking suspicious.

You, Story, and Ruby share a quick look. It was time to accept your fate. So you stand up and chug the rest of your cocktails. And then you push past your men and scamper towards the exit to grab your trench coats and hightail it to the car.

Going against your better judgement you look back to see all three men still standing by your former table. Not one of them moving a muscle.

“Please tell me you have your keys, girl.” Story hisses at Ruby. “We’re gonna need a head start.”

“Yeah, I do. And believe me, I don’t want to get murdered in a parking either, but I’m too drunk to drive!” Her hands go to tug at her hair.

They each turn their attention to you, only to wilt when you shake your head. “Same boat, ladies.”

A moment later, your men exit the bar. Their respective faces appear hard and unreadable.

“Ari, baby. My Sunshine Bear. I can explain, okay?” Story whispers as she chews on her thumb.

“And I can’t wait to hear your explanations, my little sprite. Your paddle is like truth serum for you. Now, say goodbye to your friends and get in the fucking car.”

With a whimper, she waves at you and climbs in.

“Sir isn’t happy with you right now, Rubaloo. You know better than to wear something like this without permission. Now get in the car and please, not a word from you until we get home.”

Ruby nods at you and disappears into the front seat.

Which leaves just you and Andy…

Without a word you hop in the car, put on your seatbelt, and bury your face in your hands. Andy exchanges a few more words with the other men before joining you.

When you finally reach your own home and pull in the garage, he lets out a deep sigh. “Go upstairs to our bedroom and place your nose in the corner, young lady.”

As soon as you're out of the car and inside, his big hand goes down to fist his own painful erection. When he’d seen you, his little baby girl, dressed to nines in that skimpy, pink poor excuse of a costume…

He'd been torn between hauling you over his shoulder and dragging you to the nearest bathroom to fuck your brains out, or beating the shit out of every man in that room with the exception of Curtis and Ari.

After closing the garage, he enters the house and takes time climbing the stairs. Once he’s in his room, he sees you facing the corner as you'd been instructed.

Content to leave his naughty little bunny there for a little while longer, he goes to fetch your punishment box out of the closet. Andy smiles when he pulls out a pink ball gag.

Oh, how fitting.

“Come here, baby.”

“Andy...” Comes your pitiful sniffle. “Daddy, I swear we didn’t do anything except have a little fun. Nothing inappropriate -”

He levels you with a fierce glare. “I’m sorry, but your outfit…ugh…all three of your outfits were entirely inappropriate. You don’t wear something like, like this -” He angrily gestures at you.

“Especially without your man around. So now Daddy has to teach his baby a very important lesson.”

That's the absolute last thing you wanted to hear.

“Go grab Daddy’s favorite belt.”

When you re-emerge holding Andy’s thick, black belt, you see that’s there’s a ball gag and one of your favorite vibrators sitting on the bed. Shivering you hand him the belt and then he motions for you to lie on your back.

“Leave ‘em on baby girl. All of it. Outfit, ears, and heels.” Andy’s tone is hard and unyielding. “Now lie on your back and spread your legs for your man. Good girl.”

He slaps your pussy before drizzling lube on the vibrator. Pulling the crotch of your outfit aside, he works the toy inside of your little pussy and turns it on. Wiping his hands, he then grabs the gag.

“Safe word for when you can’t speak?”

“I ring my little chime.” You dutifully respond without missing a beat.

“Good girl.” He says before securing it. “Now, I’m going tan this ass with my belt. And then Daddy’s going to fuck your little back hole with his big fat cock.”

A wail escapes your lips as the vibrator begins to torture your cunt.

“And remember, my sweet baby, my using your little hole is gonna be all about Daddy’s pleasure tonight.”

Your whole body shivers again.

“Which means you had better not cum.”

Andy cracks the belt against his thigh. “Can’t wait to make you scream, little one. Make sure you’re nice and loud for Daddy.”

END

#the trio series #cevansbrat0007 fics #chris evans imagines #ari levinson imagines #andy barber imagines #curtis everett imagines #chris evans smut #ari levinson smut #andy barber smut #curtis everett smut #chris evans x you #andy barber x you #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #ari levinson x black!ofc #curtis everett x black!ofc #chris evans x black!reader #andy barber x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #andy barber x woc!reader #curtis everett x woc!ofc #ari levinson x woc!ofc #chris evans x poc!reader #andy barber x poc!reader #ari levinson x poc!ofc #curtis everett x poc!ofc #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #andy barber x girlfriend!reader #ari levinson x girlfriend!reader #curtis everett x girlfriend!reader

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Star-Crossed: #HFT {1}****

Professor Chris Evans x OFC University Student Calliope “Cali” Jamison AU

Warning: NSFW, Cursing, 18+ Content, PLENTY OF WORDS, Plot,

Word Count: 12.2k

Synopsis: Look out for it in chapters 3 or 7.

Note: Another one because I can't stop thinking about this idea. I have been sitting on this for MONTHS because I wanted to wait until I wrapped some things up BUT life is short and I wanna share this. I have been thinking about this trope a lot. I am in no way condoning teacher-student relationships especially if said student is a minor and/or not of sound mind. However, I am a lot more open to a college professor-college student relationship. I prefer this trope to any in its subgenre/sub-trope even though it may not be ethically proper, depending on the debate you listen to. That being said I’ve wanted to tackle this idea of mine for some time and dipped my toes in with “Anatomy 101” which I wanted to expand on some time in the future.  Now, I am going to remix and expand on this professor-student trope. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Note II: Included is some Moroccan Arabic/Arabic in general. The translations are provided by Google.com. If the translation is incorrect, I apologize, please don’t hold it against me. Feel free to correct me, I don’t mind. 

As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, reblogging. I appreciate it!!!!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!

****Characters in this Fiction Story are of legal age, sound mind, and are consenting through no dubious means. ****

**NOT Edited/Proofread**

***Interactive***

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Derived from but not really a continuation: Anatomy 101

Chapter One: Desert Rose

“Cali, try not to wander too far tonight.”

You looked in the mirror at your father who was rustling through a folder of papers on his right while an ancient-looking book rested in front of him. It was his latest acquisition on yet another one of his excursions. His face never looked up from the papers. It was classic for her father, the man who was able to do ten things at once with two eyes, and two hands. Sometimes you thought his brain was a super machine that none other could rival. He always amazed you. Not just with his intellect or aptitude in his field but with his passion for what he did and how he lived his life.

It was him who instilled in you the desire to travel and find the answers to the world and humanity through travel, languages, literature, and love. He believed we were all connected through those three things and through those things could we better understand each other. He and these trips were probably the reasons you’d decided to transfer colleges and switch majors while tacking on a few more for good measure. If any little girl ever felt like their father was their hero, you were that little girl. He was yours.

He looked to you, and you took in his appearance with his glasses lodge on his nose bridge and his forehead crinkled from deep thinking. He was no longer a young man, but the years had been kind to him—very kind.

“Understood young lady?”

You rolled your eyes at his faux authoritative tone then sighed, “Dad, I’m twenty-two. I think the days of me being a young lady are long gone.”

“Twenty-one. Your birthday hasn’t come yet. We still have three months.”

“Two months and twenty-nine days, thank you,” you corrected.

He scoffed then shook his head. “You have your whole life to get old Calliope. Don’t rush it. One day you will be my age thinking where the time went.”

“I can take that as long as I am exactly where you are in your career,” you replied.

He smiled and put the papers in his hand down. “As long as you remember career isn’t everything. Living is most important.”

You thought about his words for a moment then continued applying your lip color. A silence that stuck for a few minutes befell the room. Once you were satisfied with your bold makeup application, you stood.

“Where are you off to tonight?”

“There is this lounge I wanted to check out before we left. It’s supposed to be real chill.”

“Ah, a lounge. All right, just remember our flight is tomorrow at five, and you cannot be late,” your father drilled.

“I know dad. I won’t be late.”

You readjusted your dress, smoothing your palms over the thin creases your sitting had created, then walked to your purse. Beside it, the vase of vibrant colored hibiscus flowers caught your eye. You traced your fingers along a delicate petal and plucked a red one out of the mass to arrange in your hair just behind your ear. Pleased with how it complimented your dress and the exotic look it gave you, you nodded to your reflection. When you got to your father you kissed his cheek.

“Don’t work all night dad. It’s our last night here. Who knows when you’ll be back. Take some time to smell the desert air.”

He sighed and looked up and through the panoramic window before him. No doubt the desert was calling his name.

“Don’t wait up,” you whispered before you scurried to the door.

“Don’t drink too much,” he called out just as you closed the door behind you.

You planned on drinking too much, taking part in some of the unspoken draws of Morocco, and dancing until your feet hurt. This was your last night of fun before the next chaotic and rigorous stage of your life began. You didn’t expect to have any free time to accompany your father on his work trips for the foreseeable future. As you waited for the elevator to open into the lobby of your hotel you took a quick selfie with the gold backdrop of the elevator wall. That and the warm lighting only enhanced your look.

By the time the elevator opened, you’d posted your selfie with a simple caption of red-painted kissy lips and a hibiscus flower. Less was more after all. As you walked across the lobby, you felt eyes flit toward you. You received several head nods and pleasing smiles that said the look was much appreciated.

“Can I get you a car ma’am?”

One of the hotel valets stood outside in his red and gold uniform waiting for your reply.

“How far from here is Shaida?”

“Hm, maybe a fifteen-minute walk or a five to eight-minute car ride.”

You weighed your options while looking up and down the street. The night was beautiful, the weather divine, and part of you wanted to take it all in.

“If I may ma’am, I suggest a car. After a two-minute walk, the heat will make it impossible to not sweat.”

You smirked then shrugged. “You might be right. Thank you.”

He stretched his arm out and seconds later a black car pulled up with one of the hotel’s drivers behind the wheel. The valet opened the backdoor for you then waited as you climbed in.

“Enjoy your evening ma’am.”

You thanked him just as the car pulled off. Settling into the seat you kept your eyes glued to the views that passed the window. Morocco was a favorite destination for you. This was your eighth time coming and each time still felt new to you. The truth was, Morocco held a special place in your heart, it was the land of your maternal side. Your father had met your mother twenty-seven years ago while he was fresh out of grad school while studying for his doctorate. He’d always said she opened him up to a whole different view on life. It was a view that influenced everything he did after meeting her whether it was professional or personal.

The savory scent of street foods cooking all around you made you moan and your stomach rumble, but you ignored it not wanting to get sidetracked. Only a few minutes passed, and the driver was pulling up to the entrance of the lounge. From the looks of the street, it didn’t look like it was a well-known place because it was so nestled off of the beaten path, but you didn’t care. After thanking the driver, you stepped onto the sidewalk and walked the few remaining feet to the door. Standing outside was a man dressed in street clothes with a makeshift bandana wrapped around his head. He looked you over once then averted his eyes back to scoping out the street.

Once you stepped inside you realized that the exterior looks were deceiving. It was a full house. The heady scent of flowers, incense, smoke, and a mixture of snacks hit you like a train and you immediately felt transported to a different time in history. The hypnotizing sounds of an Arabian Flute and the Bendir played cohesively together to make you feel like could have been transported back to the time of King Idriss of the Idrisid Dynasty.  

As you walked through, you scoped it out impressed by the sultry red décor that screamed both royalty and sin and taken aback by how smoky the place was. It didn’t take long for you to feel as if you’d made the right choice for the night. Finding a place at the bar you sat and adjusted to the vibes of the establishment getting lost in the music. You understood now who the man outside was, he was a scout. This was one of the few places one could come and enjoy Morocco with a touch of both modern and ancient. A man passed you puffing from a tube and from the scent of the smoke you knew the risk this place was taking. Hash.

“You have the distinct look of both a tourist and a local.”

You spun around to the woman behind the bar whose curly hair must have been the envy of everyone she knew. She had a mischievous smile that only highlighted her kind eyes.

“I guess I can be classified as somewhat of both,” you said.

The woman took you in a bit longer, fully assessing you.

“Ah, I see. Our blood flows through you but you are American.”

You smiled and nodded.

“In that case welcome. Blood is what matters here.”

She took a glass down and poured a clear liquid into a glass then placed it in front of you.

“What is this?”

She didn’t look as if she were going to answer so you did the only hospitable thing—knocked it back. Instantly, you knew what it was, Mahia. This was your traditional welcome.

“Mm, thank you.”

She nodded. “So, tell me, are you here for business or pleasure?”

“Me? Well, the business is done so I’m all about the pleasure.”

The bartender smiled widely and refilled your glass. “Then you have come to the right place. We have drink, music, dancing, snacks if you choose, and—substances.” She nodded to a passing woman who was also puffing from a tube.

“Let’s start with the first three and see where the night takes me.”

She smacked the bar, “I like you.”

She walked off to tend to another customer and your eyes followed and watched her pour another man a drink. Just behind her, you caught sight of a man who seemed out of place but also looked like he belonged. The glass in his hand was almost empty and the way he held it said a lot about him. Where everyone else would hold it fully, with the palms of their hands, he held it with just his fingertips. Nine out of ten people at a bar would hold the glass in the middle, he held it closer to the rim and the icing on top was him holding it with his pointer out instead of his pinky.

You’d been around a lot of men in your life -thanks to your father and his line of work- that you’d taken a large interest in your own life experiences, and you’d come across them all. Men who were meek and soft-spoken because they never fully asserted themselves and preferred for things and people to come to them. Men who were boisterous and presumptuous and assumed everything was meant for them and attempted to claim it all regardless of what anyone else said. Men who were easily overlooked because of their non-threatening disposition, and even men who were hard to miss because of their titillating mix of all of the above.

From the way he held his glass, to the way he sat on the battered wooden stool you could tell there was something different about him. You didn’t know what yet. You watched as he drained the glass, placed it on the bar then tapped the rim while making eye contact with the soulful-eyed lady bartender. She topped off his glass without a word then busied herself with the patrons around her. With the glass firmly between his fingers again he took another long sip while his eyes remained glued to his phone. Your curiosity piqued as an urge to know what he was doing overtook you and you got lost thinking of all the possibilities.

Heavy Arabic speaking drew your attention to your right. When you turned, an attractive man with deep-set brown eyes, a full goatee, and a man bun of lustrous locks. He looked like a blend of an old-fashioned but modern local. His full lips moved again.

“Aljamal almahaliyu.” {Local beauty?}

You smiled. You’d always found the Arabic language beautiful.

“American?” He lifted his brow as a look of uncertainty filled his features.

You snorted and took a sip from your glass.

“Aljamal almahaliyu wulid fi 'amrika,” you replied. {Local beauty born in America.}

The man smiled widely as surprise and satisfaction filled his eyes.

“Your Arabic is very good,” he complimented in damn near perfect English. The only thing that gave him away was his heavy accent.

“And your English is quite good.”

He held out his hand to you, “Deladim.”

You shook his hand.

“Cal.”

The softness of his hands contradicted the ruggedness of his outfit. His clothes said he could have been an explorer, but his hands said he was a masseuse. “Interesting name,” you followed up.

“Well, my full name is Abdeladim, but Deladim is what my friends call me, and Dim is what my lovers call me.”

His words were like a lite tap against your cheek out of the blue, shocking.

“Wow.”

Every time you’d come to Morrocco with your father, you’d been approached by plenty of smooth-talking locals who all thought they could snag an American for the night for their stories with their buddies. You never fell for it.

“Very bold of you.”

You turned your body back to the bar and continued nursing your drink as Deladim continued to give you his best lines. By the fourth line, your eyes slipped to your left to find the same man from before now watching you. His drink was ever present in his hand, but the screen of his phone was now dark. You had his undivided attention. There was something in the way he looked at you, something in his eyes that made you feel like he darted an electric current right through you. Your skin tingled and that slight curiosity about his reading preferences had not transitioned into full-blown wonder over who this man was.

You didn’t know how long you’d stared at each other, but he was the one to look away first and when he did his luminescent blue orbs went right back into his phone. Before he lifted it to his face you glimpsed words. Was he reading a book in a bar?

“Took care of it,” the lady bartender said before you as she nudged her head to your right.

The seat beside you that was filled a short while ago, was now empty.

“A blind man could tell you weren’t interested,” she filled in.

You smiled, raised your glass to her, and took a mouthful of the strong liquid.

A short while later and a handful of drinks, you’d drifted over to the lounging area of the business where men were smoking and chatting up a storm, mellowing out to the soft sounds of Moroccan wooden instruments.  The smoke in the air only heightened the hedonistic vibes of your surroundings and you didn’t mind one bit. Feeling like wanting to take a walk on the wild side for your last night in town, you decided to partake. After a blend recommendation from the bartender, you got comfortable in a slightly secluded corner that was draped in red silk and shadows and lit up the hookah contraption. This was by no means your first recreational excursion.

Upon your first inhale, you moaned gratefully for the choice. Its aroma was similar to flowers but there were hints of fruit and smoked nuts but those did not distract from the strength of the drug itself. You leaned back, closed your eyes, and let everything that you’d been worried about earlier drift away. Nothing mattered, not the looming start date of your third year of college, not the stress of moving from one top tier university to another top tier university in the middle of your degree program, not the double stress of changing said degree program and adding two more on for a full-on double major with double concentrations. You knew the next two years would be your most rigorous and though you’d never admitted it out loud, you were slightly worried you wouldn’t be able to pull it all together.

A few more puffs and your mind was as empty as your glass. Across from you, your eyes met the stranger from earlier, and again his eyes were on you. Under this light and in this atmosphere, you itched to touch him. Seconds away from blurting a likely thirsty comment, you bit your bottom lip hoping that would stop the words. It barely worked; the urge remained.

“You look like you have something to say,” he said.

You instinctively turned to look behind you, but only came face to face with the wall. When you looked back at him, he smirked, lifted his glass then took a puff from his own hookah-like contraption. When he blew out you watched the smoke drift up in a hypnotizing swirl-like spiral. This wasn’t his first recreational excursion either.

“Cat got your tongue?”

His eyes met yours again while you sat there dumbfounded.

“Feeling jealous about it? Would you rather have my tongue instead?”

His smile was wider and again that spiral of smoke escaped. “I don’t know how easy you think I am, but I’m not that kind of man.”

You snorted then giggled unable to keep it in. He sounded like one of those women who used that as a defense to throw the man they were interested in off the fact that they really were that kind of woman -a liberated woman who never needed to make excuses for her behavior and was damn proud of it- but they didn’t want them to know that.

“Then what kind of man are you?”

He didn’t answer right away. He sat there watching you. His eyes roamed over you in the sultriest way, in a way that no others had traveled you. A small flame lit at the nape of your spine that made you sit up even more. Your body was on full alert for something impending, something that would change your life. Was it him?

After a long pause, he spoke, “You’re welcome to find out on one condition.”

Interested, you took a long drag from the tube and slowly swallowed before making an “o” with your mouth to huff out the smoke in a series of o shapes. He softly smiled before sipping his drink.

“What condition?”

His smile stretched. “You have to throw in some Arabic here and there.”

You smiled and that small flame at your spine went up a notch in intensity and location. You patted the seat beside you and waited to see his move. It didn’t take long for him to stand and walk over with his hookah contraption and drink in his hands. The closer he got to you, the more you could make out his outfit. The black appearing jeans he wore had rips at the knees and gave the peekaboo effect showing off his flesh and outlining what looked like slim but strong thighs.

As your eyes raked up his body, the semi-tight white shirt he wore gave you an idea that he either had a six or eight pack and that was when your teeth sank into your bottom lip. He placed the hookah down beside yours then sat in the seat that you’d patted seconds ago. The rush of air gave you your first whiff of him. He smelled like the incense that was currently surrounding you but also musky scents that were so similar to cedar or hickory and a touch of sweetness. It was completely masculine, completely unique to him with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, something different.

“How did you know I was speaking Arabic?”

He smiled, leaned forward, and took another long drag from the Hookah. As he blew the smoke out, he looked at you. “I know and can recognize tens of languages.”

“Do you speak it?”

He shuffled his head then shrugged, “Conversationally. I’m by no means a local beauty.”

You smiled hearing him tease you with what the man from before had called you.

“Cute.”

You took your own pull from your Hookah and allowed several moments to pass in silence.

“He wasn’t wrong though. You are a beauty.”

Your eyes met his but only for a moment before he looked down and into his glass. He swirled the liquid then downed the rest.

“Thank you but I’m sure you must say this to all the girls you meet in underground Moroccan clubs while smoking semi-illegal hash.”

He checked and it was deep, and it made you wonder what his actual laugh sounded like.

“I don’t meet any girls in underground clubs in Morrocco while smoking semi-illegal hash, much less talk to them. You would be my first.”

Your eyes lingered and you couldn’t ignore the thrill that raced through you.

“Oh I do so love exclusivity,” you said while batting your eyelashes.

It was an action he snorted at. A few more moments passed in comfortable silence.

“So, tell me, what is a Moroccan rose doing here? Business or pleasure?”

“Moroccan rose?”

A small shy smile spread across his lips and for a second you didn’t think he would clarify.

“It’s uh—your scent. You smell like Moroccan roses.”

You stared at him surprised he could smell you in a place so filled with so many smells.

“I didn’t know you could smell me.”

“I smelled you since the moment you sat down at the bar. Moroccan roses with a slight hint of hibiscus,” he said nodding to the bud still in my hair. “You’re quite distracting.”

He went right back to puffing from his Hookah as if he hadn’t dropped two very important facts. One, he noticed you as soon as you walked in and two, he found your scent distracting. Those were very good signs.

“Uh—pleasure, strictly pleasure,” you replied.

His head snapped to you, and you glanced at him with a coy smirk.

“I came for a bit of business, but it’s really been only for pleasure. This is my last stop and tonight was supposed to be the culmination of that fun. Sort of like my last hoorah.”

“Ah, a wanderer?”

You leaned back and sighed. “I have been known to wander a bit but not all those who wander are lost.”

The smirk on his lips disappeared and his head cocked to the side.

“Tolkien.”

You smiled and nodded, “A favorite quote.”

He didn’t speak for a few moments, instead, he just stared at you, locking your eyes. The look that flashed across his face made you curious. He looked like he’d just discovered something rare, seen something he couldn’t understand or explain. As soon as the look came, it went, replaced by one of awe.

“Gorgeous chaos, he mumbled in a hypnotized daze.

“What?”

“She’s a mess of gorgeous chaos and you can see it in her eyes.”

The way he said it made your heart race so fast you could have sworn it was audible over the instruments in the club. He looked as though he were looking through you, either right to your soul or to every little atom that made up your aura and all the stars of your being. In all your years you’d never been looked at like this. He looked at you like the reflection of the universe, and all of the galaxies could be seen through your orbs like he was so transfixed that if he dared look away the world itself would crumble around us casting us into oblivion, like dreams were made of this one moment and his dreams were all about me. Every woman wished someone would look at them like this and right now you didn’t want this moment to end.

“Let not light see my black and deep desires,” he added.

Fuck, you thought. You felt like he’d just cast a spell on you that pinned you right where you were. You watched his hand lift and move toward your face but before he touched your cheek his hand froze. Shaking his head, he dropped his hand while clearing his throat.

“God, I’m very sorry. I don’t know what—what came over me,”

He took a deep pull from his tube and kept his eyes forward. You cleared your throat and took another pull of your hash. “It’s okay. No harm no foul. Let’s just consider the effects of Charles Bukowski and Shakespear. A two-hit quitter.”

“You know those quotes?”

Blowing out the smoke, you nodded, “Yep. Charles Bukowski and Shakespeare, Mcbeth.”

He looked impressed.

“Wow, many would get Shakespeare because he’s a classic but not Charles Bukowski.”

“You shrugged. “What am I say, I’m a total literature snob.”

“All literature or just American?”

“All. The thoughts and writing practices around the world have always fascinated me. Did you know in some parts of the world the style often reflects societal beliefs of love?”

You could feel yourself running to the edge and prepared to jump off it though you remembered the looks most of your exes and flings gave you whenever you went off on a tangent about literature and love. It didn’t stop you.

“Through research and travel I find that though every area in the world relates to love, African and Middle Eastern literature whether novels, memoirs, or even poetry showcase it in such a way that one cannot miss the sentiment of love.”

Without giving him a moment to interject, you continued pointing out things your father had shown you on this trip. Things that were from well over two hundred years ago. You’d spent hours lost in the texts just immersing yourself in what life and love were like then. By the time you stopped speaking and your eyes returned to him, you’d realized you’d done it again.

“Uh--,” you awkwardly began trying to find the words to smooth things over or show him you weren’t so bookworm. However, the words escaped you. Sighing you continued, “I’m sorry I just—do that sometimes. I’ll stop.”

“Don’t ever apologize for your intelligence and passion for learning. A well-read mind is a beautiful mind and yours I can already tell would make many drunk off its beauty.”

He had a way with words—a beautiful, sensual, and sweet way, a way that made you eager to know more about him. A slow smile spread across your lips before you dipped your head feeling the full weight of your self-consciousness.

“Um--.”

“I’m Chris.”

He held his hand out to you waiting for you to take it. After a few moments of contemplation, you took it.

“Cali.”

Shaking his hand, you allowed yours to linger for a bit longer than necessary, as did he. It was your turn to get lost in his eyes, his impossibly deep eyes that somehow in the dark shone bright blue. You both released each other at the same time but your hands rested on the seat between you, so close but so far.

“Tell me more about literature steeped in love.”

You smiled then continued not needing any more of an invite. The next several hours passed with the two of you in an enthralling conversation about literature of all sorts and the differences between cultures, beliefs, and even society. You tapped into your knowledge from your major and all that you’ve learned over the last two and a half years on top of the things you’d discovered while traveling with your father. The more you talked about the topic the more you realized you’d made the right decision in changing your major and eventual career path.

When Chris tuned in and added his own findings and experiences you couldn’t help but sit there mesmerized by his intellect. You’d always had a weakness for a smart man. This man happened to be blessed with brains and beauty—a deadly combination. All you wanted to do when he spoke was listen and pay attention. There was something commanding about him, something that demanded attention.

“Am I boring you?”

“Huh? What?”

He smirked then bit his bottom lip and your eyes dropped to them.

“You’re staring like you’re lost,” Chris explained.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I was listening to you just—lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking?”

You looked around the room and realized that there were plenty more people who’d wandered in and the new additions made the club louder. You knew then that you’d been sitting here much longer than you’d thought. You roamed your eyes over him resigning to your fate. It had to have been fate. A man who looked like him, who was your type in every way that mattered, who checked every intelligence criteria box you had and made you want to do such bad, dirty, nasty things too. Talking to him had only intensified your desire for him.

“Highly inappropriate things,” you said before grabbing your freshly refilled glass to take a sip.

“Care to share with the class?”

Resting your hand on the back of the seat, you nudged your jaw in your palm and gazed at him trying to decide if you were drunk enough.

“What if your highly inappropriate thoughts match mine?”

Your belly fluttered. Was he saying that he has also been having inappropriate thoughts about you this whole time? You were at a loss for words and that was rare. His amusement twinkled in his eyes but there was something else there—seduction.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

His lips quirked before he tipped his glass to them.

“Me?”

He scoffed. “I don’t think I have one seductive bone in my body.”

He had to be kidding. You’d been trying to find one unattractive thing about him for hours, just one and every attempt was a failure.

“I’ve been sitting here with you for the last few hours, and I doubt that very much.”

Chris smiled and under the colored lights, you could have sworn you saw him bite his bottom lip. It was a quick action but done in such a sensual way that goosebumps pricked your skin.

“Have I seduced you, Cali?

“It could be that you have, or it could be these never-ending drinks, or the hash and whatever else is in the air. Who’s to say.”

“See, told you, not one seductive bone in me. You on the other hand--.”

“What about me?”

Chris looked like he was weighing the pros and cons of divulging this information.

“Foreswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night!”

A giddy giggle escaped you and you clamped your hand over your mouth a tab bit too late. Chris laughed joining in with your laughter.

“Oh my god,” you said before an abomination came out of your mouth in the sound of a snort, straight-up Steve Urkle style.

Horrified your eyes widened but Chris only laughed harder, clapping his hand over his chest. He didn’t look to mind. “Cute”.

As if the compliment was the incantation to opening King Midas’ doors, you slid closer realizing somehow your bodies had naturally drifted closer to one another already. Now he was only a few inches from you. Again, Chris’s hand rose and traveled to you, this time he didn’t stop until he was centimeters from you.

“May I?”

You nodded. The back of his hand touched your jaw softly, then he slowly trailed It up to your ear before turning it so he cupped your cheek. The heat from his palm seared your skin in the most delicious way making your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Are you saying my beauty has seduced you?”

Chris didn’t speak at once; he just allowed his thumb to skitter across your cheek in feather-lite touches, but they couldn’t be missed. Your skin tingled, heart raced, and stomach knotted. His effect on you was so instantaneous that you couldn’t help but be confused.

“Cali—I dare say that you have bewitched my mind--.” His thumb slid across your bottom lip.

“--My eyes--.” Now it was pulling your bottom lip down ever so slightly feeling.

“--And my curiosity with far more than your beauty.”

On instinct, you caught the tip of his thumb between your teeth and but down—not enough to hurt though. A deep groan fell from him, and holy hell did it sound sexy as fuck. Not only did your brain think so but so did your body, the evidence was the slickness between your legs. You watched his face drift closer and closer to yours but when he was a few inches from your lips he stopped and waited. You were confused for only a few seconds when it dawned on you, he wanted you to have equal say in how this moment played out. He wanted to know that you wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss you. 

Chris's eyes were on yours searching but patiently waiting. They flited between your eyes and your lips, and you wanted to know how patient of a man he was. As if he heard your thoughts, he smirked.

“I am a very patient man, Cali. I could make you break before you me.”

The cockiness coming off of him only heightened your attraction to him. Any other time when it hadn’t been over six months since you’d been with someone or with any other man that didn’t look like him or think like him you would have enjoyed making him eat those words. Tonight—you’d rather him eat something else. With a smirk of your own, you crashed your lips to his and showed him how much you wanted to kiss him.

Chris moaned on your mouth, allowing you to lead the action. His lips felt at home on yours, a perfect fit, and the electricity crackling through you said they were possibly meant for yours. That electricity is what made you pull back to look at him. Did he feel it too? The look in his eyes said he had felt it and it was having the same effect on him.

“Holy shit,” you said.

A wide smile lit his face and this time both of you took lead slamming your lips together again. His hands were on you in seconds, one pulling you flush against his upper half, the other cupping your skull, holding your head in place as he kissed you senseless and into the most frenzied state of arousal you’d ever been in. You wanted this man—this man you only knew a handful of things about—this man you’d only known for a few hours. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anything.

Dipping your tongue into his mouth, you wrapped it around his, but he beat you to what happened next. Chris sucked your tongue in a slow sensual rhythm. With each one, you moaned and with each moan, Chris held you closer. You didn’t know if the rapid pounding against your breasts was his heart or yours and you doubted it mattered. When Chris nibbled your bottom lip, you whimpered and gripped him at his waist, crumpling his crisp white t-shirt. You didn’t know when it happened but when you felt the hard rippled ridges on him you realized your hand had somehow made it underneath his shirt. His body quivered while a shudder slipped from his lips.

“The way I react to you and you to me,” he croaked out, his voice husky, raw, and full of desire. “It’s intoxicating.”

You smiled and tipped your tongue out to trace along his lips. He sat there still letting you explore the taste of him. The more you tasted the more you wanted and without warning, he bit your tongue and sucked it into his mouth pulling you into another soul-swapping kiss.

“Christ! Do you want to go somewhere else?”

You moved your face until there were a few inches between your lips and peered into his eyes. You were met by the same patience, the same self-control but now it was not as tightly bound. You nodded first, then spoke, “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded again with a smile. “Let’s go.”

Both of you stood and went into motion in unison, him making a move to the bar to settle both of your tabs while you to the restrooms to touch yourself up. A few minutes later, you met him at the door then dipped into a waiting taxi. You got lost in the view once it pulled around the corner to show the darkened beach but when you felt a large hand rest just above your knee at your thigh your attention went right back to where it belonged.

Sitting beside you, he looked like a man who’d made up his mind to seduce you, his eyelashes were low, eyes a mixture of bright blue in color but heavy in headiness. If seduction was a person, he was sitting across from you. Biting your bottom lip, you sucked it into your mouth. Chris’ hand inched higher and higher until it was halfway up your thigh with his fingers kneading the fleshiest part of your inner thigh. A soft moan escaped you.

His reaction was a pleased smile that instantly made you feel shy. Pressing your fingertips to your lips, you turned your head from him to the window and giggled behind it. His fingers never stopped kneading and the more they moved the more you wanted to moan. You liked them on you. suddenly you felt his nose nuzzle your ear.

“God, you’re sexy. I can’t wait to hear that moan loud and clear,” he whispered.

If the eyes of the taxi driver weren’t steadily peeping into the rearview mirror at the two of you, you would have stuck your tongue down his throat. Keeping some equanimity about you; you put your hand on his thigh a few inches from his inseam and squeezed. His groan was guttural and filled with so much yearning your belly did backflips from anticipation.

Before you knew it, the car stopped. Chris thanked the driver, then came around to open your door. With his hand held out, he waited for you to place yours in it. Giddiness took over and you took his hand. He then pulled you out of the car flush against him. You giggled again and allowed him to wrap his arms around your waist as he dropped a teasing open-mouthed kiss to the nape of your neck. He cupped your skull and kept you right where he wanted you as he tasted your neck. You easily got lost in the sensation and the way his lips sent tingles all through you.

“Moroccan rose will be my favorite scent for the rest of my life now,” he mumbled against you.

“Such a sweet talker.”

Chris yanked the back of your neck and crashed his lips to yours, rolling his tongue with yours and nipping at your lips. Moaning you wrapped your arms around him his neck and sagged against him. He began walking backward but he held you tightly never making you feel like you would fall. You felt sand between your toes and that fact was so startling you broke the kiss. When you glanced around you saw the desert before you.

“Oh my god, I thought we were going to your hotel.”

“I didn’t book one. That’s where I’m staying,”, he said pointing off to the right.

A large tent was pitched, and it bellowed with the gentle night breeze.

“A tent? Are you camping?”

“With a view like this, I couldn’t bear to have walls separating me from it. Trust me it’s not as rustic as you’re thinking. Come on.”

Chris took your hand and lead the way to the wood-planked walkway. As he led you, you took notice of the other pitched tents in the vicinity. They weren’t miles away, but they definitely weren’t close enough to be nosey. When you got to the entrance, he unzipped the flap and lifted it allowing you to go in first. When you stepped inside it was like stepping into a little piece of ancient Morocco. This was glamping.

The lanterns around the space were lit and decorative images danced around the roof and walls of the tent. It was beautiful.

“Wow.”

“Like it?”

You nodded. He took your hand again and led you to the back through another flap. To the back, there was a deck, and it showed the vastness of the desert. Where sand touched the sky, the indigo glow was breathtaking. Here the stars were the most visible.

“Wow—incredible.”

You got lost in the stars searching for your favorite constellations.

“Wow, I can see Hercules,” you said pointing out the constellation to the right. “And Canis Major, my god you can clearly see how it resembles a dog. Look.”

Your voice betrayed your excitement. That excitement was how you didn't realize how close he was until you felt his arms wrap around your stomach. His bearded chin nestled in the crook where your shoulder and neck met.

“There is Altair and over there is Vega. Do you know their story?”

You shook your head. Before he spoke again, he kissed a path from your neck to your ear then back down.

“Vega was a celestial princess, one of the goddesses of the sky. That meant she was immortal. Though she was immortal that didn’t stop her from worrying about what everyone else in this world desires--.”

His teeth grazed your shoulder and snapped the thin strap of your dress. With his teeth, he pulled it off your shoulder and then brought kisses back up your shoulder.

“She was worried as it seemed she would live in eternity alone without an everlasting love. Love that she’d watched plenty a mortal obtain.”

He trailed kisses along the back of your neck to your other shoulder and mirrored the same actions. With your straps off your shoulders, the material began to sag off your body. Your skin was cool thanks to the breeze but just beneath the surface you were sweltering, and it was his doing.

“One day Altair, a mere mortal, caught the eye of Vega from her celestial perch. She was so besotted with his beauty and his form that--.”

His large hands slipped a little higher to untie the strings just underneath your breasts. From there it was an easy slide for the dress to fall to your ankles.

“She descended from the heavens to greet him--.”

He turned you to face him then stepped back and slowly looked over your naked body. The heat in his eyes could have ignited sand itself.

“They fell deeply in love. It was a love poetry and plays were written about. A love so all-encompassing, so passionate, so life-altering. They lived every day of his mortal life together until they both retired to the skies to never part for all eternity.”

His voice alone could give orgasms, it was that hypnotizing, that enticing. That coupled with the way he was looking at you in this moment it was impossible to not squirm.

“You give Byron’s words new meaning. She walks in beauty like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes; thus, mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.”

Fuck, you thought as a fresh gush of moisture dampened your panties.

“You’re beautiful Cali—so beautiful.”

The wind blew but before you could shiver, he was there shielding you, holding you close, caressing your skin tracing a path of fire and desire up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts. When he cupped your jaw, you knew you couldn’t wait any longer. He kissed you softly and slowly teased you. When he broke the kiss, he tailed his lips to your neck and sucked then dipped down. When he stood again, he had you in his arms.

When you felt his lips on your nipple you exclaimed, throwing your head back. If his lips on your neck felt good, now they felt like heaven. As he licked and pleased your flesh, he sat on the reclining chair. With you straddling him, he took your other breast into his hand and kneaded it.

Instantly your back arched; “Mmmm.”

“So receptive of me.”

For emphasis, Chris pinched the nipple that was just between his lips. You sucked in a sharp breath and angled your back further. His hand at your tailbone stopped you from squirming too far. To intensify the sensation, he pinched your other nipple and latched his lips onto your throat.

“Oh god,” you whispered.

“You smell like roses, taste like spun sugar, feel like heaven, but tempt me like a seductress. You’ll drive me mad.”

He licked the swell of your breast and the valley between then shook his head in between your breasts. One second you were relishing the wanton feelings bubbling within you, and the next your fingers were laced in his hair yanking his head back so you could feast on his lips. His moans echoed into the desert behind you enhancing the sultry vibes of the moment you were sharing.

Abandoning his hair, you lifted the hem of his shirt anxious to see the rest of him. Chris sat up, lifted his arms, and allowed you to peel his shirt off. With his chest bare, your eyes dropped and took in every detail. The lite dusting of hair right below his collarbone was inviting. Normally you hated chest hair on men, you found it sloppy and cumbersome especially when it ended up in your mouth. With him, right now it was anything but. Unable to help yourself, you plastered your hands over his chiseled pecs and smoothed your fingers over them. He looked like he worked out every day.

The myriad of tattoos that were scattered across his chest and abdomen made you do a double take. You hadn’t expected it at all. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip you resisted the urge to rake your nails down his chest.

“Your eyes are glazed over, you okay?”

Embarrassment washed over you and you blinked away from his chest to his true blues.

“Perfect,” you said before kissing him again.

Seconds later, Chris stood holding you against him carrying you inside. When you felt the mattress underneath you, you perched your legs on the bed and watched him stand before you. His eyes roamed over your body again and it was like he was looking right through you.

“Did I lose you?”

He scoffed. “Not a chance, sorry I zoned out for a second.”

“Ah, not doing it for ya’ huh.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself?”

He grabbed your ankle and pulled you closer to him at the edge of the bed. Keeping his hand on you, he brought your foot to his lips and kissed the bone just there. He then led kisses a little way down your leg while his other hand swirled a path along your leg. Every few kisses, he bit your flesh making chills race through you.

“Have you heard the thoughts your brain forms? God, I don’t think I have ever been this attracted to someone in my life. I’m not just attracted to your beautiful face or your incredibly sexy body.”

His lips were now at your inner thigh, and you watched him sink to his knees before he kissed that bone right beside the most private of your body, just where your thigh and pelvis met.

“Mmm.”

Chris then draped one of your legs over his shoulder while pushing the other down flat against the bed.

“This devastatingly sexy body,” he repeated before he placed a kiss at the top of your mound. “I’m attracted to your mind. This entire night I haven’t been able to help the thoughts I’ve been having like we’ve met before--.”

He hooked his fingers in your thong.

“Spoken before--.”

He pulled the material slowly down your hips then legs, then tossed it behind him.

“Touched before, kissed before.”

With that, he dropped an open-mouthed and sloppy kiss on your clit.

“Uuugh, fuck!”

“This can’t have been the first time I’ve done that.”

He led small kisses across to your pelvis then inner thigh and back again. Every kiss made you squirm, your back arch, and your fists ball the fabric on the bed.

“Are you talking about previous lives now?”

“Maybe.”

You bit down on your bottom lip then angled onto your elbows.

“Careful sounds like you’re awfully close to saying something as cliched as destined mates,” you teased.

He smirked.

“Cliched? Would I be wrong?”

Before you could answer, he delivered a long stroke of his tongue across your sex stopping any thoughts much less words. Your gasp echoed around you as you slammed your back to the bed. With your fists balled beside you, your thighs raised trying to press together to deliver the pressure you needed. However, they didn’t meet. Chris pushed them back to the bed keeping you wide for him.

“What was that Calli? I couldn’t quite hear that.”

You opened your mouth to speak but again his lips found your folds. The slow but precise flicks he delivered make goosebumps freckle your skin as if it were cold trying to preserve its heat when in truth, your body was on fire and steadily reaching the point of combustion.

“Ah, you sighed when he sucked your clit nether lips into his mouth fluctuating the pressure he gave you. When you felt the tip of his tongue dip into your entrance your hands abandoned the sheets and grabbed hold of his hair keeping his head right there.

The feel of him dipping his tongue in and out of you felt so good. He started slow and gradually sped up before he swirled his tongue within you. He slurped and you nearly levitated off of the bed.

“Mmm, you taste incredible, Calli.”

With your nails dug into his scalp, you held tightly to his hair as you felt the beginning stirs of your orgasm. Fuck, already, you thought in pure shock. He’d barely begun. Sure enough, without warning your crescendo came and your grip tightened before your thighs trapped his face between your legs with his mouth just where you needed it.

“Oh my god! Oh god, oh god, oh god! Yesss!”

Chris moaned as he pried your thighs open. Feeling bold and strong from the orgasm you were still riding, you tugged at his hair urging him up. As soon as he was close enough you kissed him, swirling your tongue with his tasting yourself. The distraction was enough to make you roll onto him to straddle his body.

“Mmm, you’re right I do taste good.”

Chris’ grip on your hips tightened as he groaned and kissed you fiercely, stealing whatever breath you had left within you. Pulling away, you traced kisses down his jaw to his neck. His hand slinked down your back to grip your bare ass. It was such a strong grip that you gasped, then groaned when you became wet all over again. You sank lower and kissed his tattooed chest, taking care to tease his hardened nipples. Every groan, moan and fluctuation in his breathing fueled your desire for him making you want to please him even more.

When you made it to his waist you began undoing his belt, then his pants. Within seconds, you had them undone but before you could make the move, Chris flipped you onto your back and crashed his lips to yours. Not having it, you rolled right back onto him but again he flipped you onto yours. The two of you giggled together realizing that neither of you was going to have your way with this one and someone had to yield.

Chris caressed your cheek and gently kissed your lips leading a path of soft kisses down your body. You watched as he trailed the flower that had been in your hair down your flesh. Everywhere it touched goosebumps appeared and everywhere it went it left behind a trail of yearning. He rotated the bud around your nipples, then slowly brought it between the globes of your breasts. When he went down your stomach, he went around your belly button taking his sweet time knowing that every second only made your desire burn hotter and hotter. He then traced the flower to your core, making you flinch.

“Sensitive or hungry?”

You groaned and sucked your lip into your mouth. He then traced the number eight across your sex. After he finished m

“I could watch your body react to this flower all night,” he uttered eyes never leaving the flower. Once his face dipped down and he found himself right back between your legs, eye level with your sex you reached for him.

“I want you.”

“And you’ll have me but not until I have you screaming my name, writhing and dripping begging for me.”

He didn’t wait for your reply, instead, he buried his face between your legs and feasted as none had feasted before. Your moans spilled from you one after the other at varying decibels. You didn’t care how loud you were being. Normally you got a little self-conscious when you expressed your pleasure. You never felt one hundred percent comfortable with any of your exes or partners and it wasn’t due to any fault of theirs. It just was how it happened. With Chris, right now, you wanted him to know just how good he was making you feel, how much you wanted him.

The flower he held never left your body and somehow, he managed to ravage your clit and folds while circling your breasts and nipples with the flower. Just when you thought you were going to come apart and shoot into the night sky above, he bit your inner thigh while pinching one of your nipples.

“Fuuuck!”

With that, you came again, and again, he slurped every single drop like it was the most precious commodity.

Chris then rose and stood in front of you. His pants were open showing off just a smidge of the snug-fitting black boxer briefs he wore. You gave him your full attention as he removed the remainder of his clothes. As the pants dropped, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip still picturing what he had hidden behind those things.

“The way you’re looking at me is only making this harder; harder being the operative word,” Chris said.

Your eyes dropped to the prominent bulge at the juncture of his thighs. Your tongue snaked out to slide across your lips anxious for him. Chris groaned then tore the underwear off revealing all of him to your eager eyes.

“Wow,” you marveled.

He didn’t move, he stood there allowing you time to take him in, and take him in you did. He was buff, but not in an overly done way, in an everyday guy who was active in his life way. The tattoos on his skin only added to his sex appeal.

“Like what you see?”

You smirked and dropped your thighs back to the mattress and just as expected his eyes fell to just where you wanted his full attention.

“I bet I’d like what I feel even more.”

Chris chuckled, shook his head then stalked toward you. With ease, he nestled himself between your open and welcoming legs and bit your nipple before lowering the weight of his body on you.

“I felt you liked to tease, but I see teasing is just the tip of the iceberg, huh?”

You felt the thick, heavy mass pressing against your sex and you could barely hold yourself back from bucking up against him. His groan was rich, and it sent such a thrill through you. You couldn’t believe you had this strong an impact on someone and that he was freely letting you see it. It’s like he wanted you to know that you had him wrapped around your finger.

Chris softly kissed you once, then twice. Each kiss gave you a glimpse at something deeper, something tender, and sweet. He could be a seducer but that wasn’t all that he was. You rolled onto him again and kissed a trail down his sculpted frame taking care to kiss all the parts of him that tempted you. You kissed each nipple, raking your nails through the dusting of hair on his chest, each defined ab, and his obliques where those mouthwatering indentations resided. At the touch of your lips on that part of him, you felt a heavy thwack against your chin. Glancing down, you saw the offender. Up close you took notice of the violent veins protruding along his shaft and the thick and swollen head that glistened with a long drop of his desire.

“Planning on drawing it?”

“I could if it would make you harder.”

Chris scoffed. “Honey, I don’t think I could be any harder right now.”

“Open for debate,” you replied before tipping your tongue out to lightly swirl around the bulbous head.

He groaned long and loud while arching his head back. The veins in his neck bulged showing you just how desperately he was trying to cling to control. You repeated the action a few more times before you sucked his tip into your mouth applying more than a little pressure.

“Christ!”

You moaned. He tasted like mint and something else—vanilla maybe. Whatever it was, you were sure it was a taste unique to him and a taste you found subtle enough to enjoy. Slowly, you dipped your mouth lower and lower taking half his thickness before you sucked up. His hiss and the slight miss of his hands as they aimed to the top of your head no doubt to hold you in place told you everything you needed to know. He was open. You licked from the base to his tip like he was your favorite flavor lollipop. Another groan was your reward.

“Do that again.”

You licked him again. “That?”

You knew that wasn’t what he meant. The muscles in his jaw jumped then his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“No,” he struggled out.

You smirked and dipped your mouth over him again this time taking him a little further until you felt he was close to the back of your mouth. Chris groaned and fastened his hands on your head keeping your head there trapped. You moaned on him and without warning, he brought your head lower so you took him deeper. With him nestled right where he could feel the vibrations most, you moaned again. His grip loosened as he pulled you off of him.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell. I swear ta gawd, you’re gonna make me cum right now.”

You could pick up an accent and it was the hottest thing you’d heard. He wasn’t the only one that was close to coming.

“Your mouth feels incredible.”

Feeling bold, you took him into the mouth he liked so much and showed him incredible was the beginning. By the time you were finished with him, you’d have him listing off every synonym of the word. As you pleased his flesh, every hiss, gasp, moan and groan became more and more desperate, more and more emphasized and the more he lost control, the more powerful you felt. That didn’t mean that giving him pleasure meant you felt none. You were so turned on it took everything in you to not drop your hand between your legs to inch yourself to the release he was creeping up on.

Quicker than lightning, he’d flipped you onto your back and pressed your thighs apart making enough room for his bulky body and stealing your breath in the process. The way he looked at you as if you were his prey and he the predator only made you want him more.

“Fuck,” you whispered out.

“If you insist.”

His lips pressed to yours and his tongue swirled with yours. The man was a kissing connoisseur and magician, and this was the way he cast his spells—this was the way he bewitched. When you felt the tip of his intrusion brush against your inner thigh you shook and immediately felt embarrassed. Chris’ smile was soft.

“The feeling is mutual, believe me.”

He kissed you once, twice then a third, and on that third kiss, he joined your bodies in one slow, torturous, and impossibly delicious feeling thrust. Every inch he filled you with made your back arch and every arch pressed your breasts onto his hard chest. Chris tore his lips from yours first then buried his face into your neck and whimpered.

“Oh—you feel--.”

It was a sentence he never finished—not with words. Instead, he shuddered into your ear and let his body mirror it with a shiver. With him buried to the hilt, you felt impossibly full, but you still wanted more. Wrapping one leg behind him to rest at the crest of his ass, you lifted your hips to meet his next thrust. The movement was unexpected and his snapped to yours. With your eyes locked, you clenched around him and circled your hips.

“Fuck!”

Chris pressed one hand to the bed and brought the other to your throat, but no part of his grip hurt. It was the motivation he needed to speed his movements. With every connection, your breasts jerked, and every retreat your leg around him tightened as your muscles.

“Uuugh, you’re going to kill me gorgeous,” Chris croaked out with every thrust.

“Then return the favor. I think death by fuck would be a good way to go.”

His eyebrow crooked and you saw the moment something shifted within him. His jaw twitched and then with his next bruising thrust he clasped both your wrists in one of his hands and pressed them above your head. From then, his thrusts became rougher, harder and so damn wild. The pattern her set was one of chaos and your body responded to it. He kept you guessing, needing and whimpering until you were sure that the other tents nearby could hear just what was going on and you didn’t care. You hoped they were listening.

No matter how you tried to free your hands to touch him, it was no use. He held you right where you were taking everything he wanted while giving you just as much. Soon, the pit of your stomach tightened, and your legs trembled, you were close and the grin on his face said he knew it.

“I think death by multiple orgasms sounds like a better way to go.”

Chris thrusted forward hard then circled his hips sending you over the edge. You screeched and allowed your body to shake as it wished. You had no control over it, he did. You panted and bucked against him needing more and having too much all at once. When his thrusts continued, he’d released your hands and grabbed your thighs keeping them apart and you slightly elevated in both his strong arms. This new angle told you that you’d be crashing over the edge in seconds.

Sure enough, you came again and again with him showing no mercy nor giving you any reprieve. Instead, he changed the pattern again, slowing things down. The sudden change sent your body into hyperactivity and your hips bucked again. Chris groaned and moved his hands to your hips. He held on to you like he was riding a bucking bronco trying to control you. With a groan that sounded so close to a growl, he pulled out of you then flipped you onto your stomach and sheathed himself once again.

“Aaaah! Fuck, yes!”

The action was so quick your head spun but not for long. When you felt his hand at the back of your neck and the other coming down on your ass you lost your shit.

“Oh god—Chris.”

“Mmm. Still sound like a good way to go?”

He dropped his lips to your back and kissed a path along your spine until he reached your shoulder. Once there, he sank his teeth into your flesh. You dropped your head back and for the first time, you noticed that this particular part of the tent was see-through, and it gave you the perfect view of the stars. As another orgasm claimed you, you felt yourself transcending to touch those stars. Chris slowed his movements and brought his kisses to your jaw, then your lips. This kiss was different, it was languid, teasing, but filled with longing. It was a different longing than before; it was a longing for more time.

“You’re perfect, Cali,” Chris mumbled on your lips. “So fucking perfect.”

Your belly fluttered. Mustering all your energy, you pulled from him, then pushed him onto his back. He stretched his arms behind his head with a wide smile as if he couldn’t wait for the show. You stood on the bed giving him a full view of your body then stood over him legs wide enough that he could see just what was in store for him. As he licked his bottom lip you saw a spark of worry in his eyes.

“Scared?”

Smirking he stretched his body and groaned. “Should I be?”

“I don’t know. I could do whatever I want to you.”

“I’m counting on it.”

His cockiness was too damn attractive, and you couldn’t believe you liked it. Scoffing, you lowered yourself over him. His eyes dropped between your legs and watched with bated breath. He looked like he was mumbling an incantation in his head drawing your body to his. Just before you sank onto him, you stopped hovering just out of reach. Chris groaned then cracked his neck.

“Are you afraid?”

“Not at all.”

“Then sink that gorgeous, deliciously tight pussy on this cock.”

“No please?”

He smirked.

“Oh, so you want me to beg.”

“Are you above it?”

Chris brought one hand to his mouth, licked his thumb then brought it to your clit. The first stroke was feather-lite.

“Mmm.”

“Are you?” He dipped his thumb lower swiping your slit coating his finger before bringing it back to swirl around your bud. You moaned again but made a silent vow to not give in.

“Try as you will, I guarantee you will not hear me beg for anything.”

“No?”

For emphasis he gently pinched your clit sending a sharp electric charge through you and right back to your sex. Unconsciously, you dipped lower, your folds brushing the tip of his cock. You both groaned at the same time, both bucked your hips together, but you were the one to rise back up.

“Stubborn huh.”

“More than you know. However, I would have mercy on you if you said the magic words.”

“What words may they be?”

His finger was now going back and forth and round and round in a synchronized show of skill. It was becoming harder and harder to resist. You wanted him to fill you as much as he wanted to be nestled in your heat.

“Please—take this—dick.”

Again, your body dipped lower and brushed his tip. This time you didn’t lift up, instead, you rocked your body back and forth like a wave coating his bulging appendage. With each swipe of your sex, Chris softly grunted and subtly lifted his hips. You didn’t know if it was an involuntary movement or if this was a ploy.

“God, you’re so wet for me, Cali.”

“Mm-hm. Dripping.”

His finger sped and you knew you were close. You just hoped he gave in before your body betrayed you. Circling your hips, you took a few centimeters of him giving him the impression you were giving in but when his hand came to your waist you lifted up denying him the satisfaction. The groan he let out was one of frustration. You saw the veins in his neck protruding and wondered how much longer he could hold out.

“Still so tight,” he whispered.

“Do you want to stretch me out?”

He scoffed, smirked, and angled his head back.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Cali.”

The authority in his voice made you straighten your spine. He sounded like he often gave orders, and you wanted him to command you.

“This dangerous game has consequences. Can you afford them?”

“Like?”

The pressure he applied to your pearl increased and you knew your face betrayed how much you liked it.

“Loss of voice, sore muscles, raw throat, inability to sit properly for a week or two, among others.”

“What about the consequences for you? Can you afford them?”

“Such as?”

“Inability to think of anything else but this tight, dripping pussy, hallucinations of seeing me everywhere you go but when it isn’t me wishing it were, daydreams that take you back to this night for months on months, frenzied wet dreams every single night, and the fate of inadequate self-pleasuring where it never is good enough because it is not my hand, my mouth, my tight delicious pussy. Your punishment for tonight will be a lifelong one. Can you afford the price of your pleasure?”

He looked at the end of his rope like he was about to release the beast any moment. His jaw ticked, throat bobbed, and breath shook.

“Cali—please—take this dick so I can fill you and stretch you so perfectly that weeks from now you will not be able to have another because you will only see my eyes.”

As the victor you dropped onto his cock, taking him fully into your body and loving every second of it. Chris grunted then gripped your hip. He didn’t move you though, he wanted you to take control. You instantly set the pace bucking against him with quick swipes. Chris sucked in a breath and watched you move, in complete awe. Rather than sticking to one pattern, you swirled around him before you began bouncing on his hardness.

“Fuck!”

He matched every move you made with an upward flick of his hips. Every time he did it, it threw you off until you’d stopped moving completely and allowed him to jackhammer up into your core.

“Fuck! Chris, yes, right there. Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me—cum with me.”

His thrusts became more and more aggressive and the sharp twinge of pain at your hip from his fingertips said you’d have a bruise to remember this night. It was a bruise you wouldn’t mind. Chris sprang up, held your hips more firmly, and rocked you against him as he fucked you. You could tell by the glazed look in his eyes that he’d lost control and was chasing the same thing you were—a release.

“Yes, Yes, God Cali.”

Your eyes locked and you felt the same longing he did. If only tonight wasn’t all you had.  Before you knew it, you’d crescendoed over the edge pulling him with you. Both of you rode the wave of pleasure that kept producing sparks of fire and thrill straight through you making neither of you want to break apart. You kissed him allowing everything you were feeling to spill into him.

If tonight was all you had, then you would take it and press it to memory.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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@evans-sims @dontbescaredtosingalong @nunya7394 @ivorylei  @deepintothenature @heroine-of-color 

#starcrossed: hft fic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x ofc #professor x college student #college fanfiction #black fanfiction #chris evans smut #starcrossed 1

[peyispromotinghershit]

Hello cuties,

Since Tumblr banned my writing blog from the tags, I had no other option than creating a side blog to be visible.

I started to write a serie about Chris Evans, you can check my masterlist to read it. Of course reblogs and interactions are truly appreciated.

My writing blog is : @peyiswriting

#chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black ofc #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans #peyiswriting