*a Chris Evans Fan Fiction*
Chris x OFC (First Person)
Chris Evans develops a crush on his interior designer, a sassy plus sized woman with an eye for details
Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, Oral Sex, Penetration, fingering, NSFW
Word Count 4727
“How did you know I like soft, fluffy things on my bed?” Chris’s laughter and sultry tone causes me to jump out of my skin, releasing a squeal of surprise.
“Oh, Christopher! You scared me!” I turn my attention from the decorator pillows I’ve been fluffing on the giant bed, and start to blush, realizing how this must look to him. The meaning behind his words is not lost on me. He leans against the doorframe so casually, my heart skips a beat and I can feel my blush deepen. “I wasn’t expecting you till after the shoot. What are you doing here?”
He ignores my question, moaning quietly. Fuck, why must he do that! “Unf… And you’re already kneeling on my bed?”
“Stop, teasing, please,” my voice pleads with him, reaching to straighten and fluff the rest of the pillows, becoming self-conscious, knowing he is watching me. He’s been flirting for weeks, but he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just who he is. He’s just a flirt.
“Why?” Chris moves across the room, emptying his pockets onto the dresser. Seeing the expression on my face, he opens the drawer and slides the items off and hides them away. “What is it going to take to convince you to go out with me? Why won’t you say yes?”
Pivoting carefully on the bed so to not disrupt the décor, I catch my reflection in the mirror on the wall behind him. Nearly a size sixteen… That’s why I don’t say yes. Chris doesn’t really want me he just wants the challenge because I keep turning him down. Having worked with the household staff for weeks getting ready for this house design photo shoot, I am totally aware “no” isn’t a word he hears often.
As I finish fussing with the blanket at the foot of the bed I realize Chris is watching me closely. “You haven’t answered my question…” he says quietly. My heart cries at the sound in his voice. This flirting is different. He truly seems hurt by my rejections…
Crawling to the edge, I shake my head, getting ready to climb down from the higher bed he requested. As I move across the surface, I realize my dress isn’t holding me in and my two best features are slowly popping out over the top of the neckline. I look up and Chris notices too. That goddamn smirk of his… “Christopher, isn’t the answer obvious?” I turn again and begin to crawl away from him. At least the length of my skirt will keep my ass covered until I can get off the ridiculously high bed. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at all the jokes the design team had while creating the room’s main feature.
“Either direction is a good view,” he chuckles, kicking off his shoes.
“Goddamn it,” I mumble under my breath. “There is no graceful way to get off this bed.” I spin my legs around to a seated position, preparing to slide off to the floor.
“Then don’t. Stay on the bed,” Chris says as he steps in front of me. “You look good there,” he purrs, just as my feet hit the floor and I stand up, nearly bumping into him.
“Damn, you’re tall. I don’t think I’ve really noticed that before,” Chris says, reaching beside me and straightening the edge of the blanket I kicked. As he moves past me, I can feel his warmth radiating from his body, and catch the smell that is him- the outdoors, clean, fresh, manly.
I try to side step him, but he blocks my path. “Christopher, don’t you have something else to do, I have work to finish here.” I put my hand on his arm to push him away and encounter his rock hard bicep. My fingers linger there and I can’t deny the attraction I feel for him.
“I love that you call me ‘Christopher,’” he says, dropping his eyes to my manicured hand on his arm. “And I think you’re amazing. Don’t give me that “low self-esteem” bullshit. I’ve known you for months. You are the most vibrant, out-going, carefree person I know. You’re funny and opinionated and you don’t take any shit… That’s my kind of girl. Why won’t you go out with me?”
I freeze when the back of his hand caresses the watercolor hummingbird tattoo on my collar bone as he brushes my fair colored hair over my shoulder. His eyes plead for an answer. He touched me. I can’t think. Quietly, I say the honest truth, the first thing that comes to my mind. “The funny, fat girl is always great to hang out with until you have to be seen in public with her.”
He leans in and kisses my tat, his lips a bare brush against my skin. I can feel the slight exhale of his warmth breath as he puffs out his next words. “That’s bullshit. I don’t see you like that. I need a better reason.” Goosebumps form across my pale surface as he continues to caress my shoulder, his fingertips running under the strap of my favorite yellow sundress.
Unable to control my breathing, trying to keep steady from the effect he has over me, I choke out the words “I work for you.”
His long nose nuzzles against my neck, his beard trailing behind, ticklish. “Not any more. You’re fired.”
Giggling, I grasp the back of his hair and lift his head even to mine. My stomach turns somersaults. I don’t want him to stop. “The camera crew will be here in two hours.”
“Plenty of time,” he answers, diving towards my lips and meeting them with a wanting heat. Both hands now continue to tug at the straps of my summer attire. His tongue flits across my plump bottom lip inviting me to open and accept him. My breathing accelerates and I run my fingers through his hair, holding him tighter to me, knowing it’s a bad idea but feels so good. His hands run along the sweetheart neckline, dragging his fingers just under the edge of the dress covering my ample chest. A delicious moan escapes my lips, aching for more of his touch. “And we can go for round two later,” he growls seductively.
His mouth continues to tease. Damn, can that boy kiss! My lips slowly part at his temptations, his lips soft against my own. His tongue eases in slowly, gently touching my tongue before sliding back out and running across my bottom lip. A slight chill runs through me and my knees weaken so I tighten my grasp on his arm. He repeats this move again, venturing his skilled tongue deeper inside, tangling with mine.
His hands snake down the corset style front of my dress, stopping to squeeze under my breasts, grabbing at my ribcage and pulling me into him. I can feel his erection through the layers of my skirt, pushing warmly against my thigh. I open my eyes to remind myself this is really happening and he is watching me with his pupils dilated, lost in the black of desire. He really wants me? If this is an act, he should win in an Oscar.
A million thoughts cross my mind. If I go through with this, I don’t want it to change the friendship I’ve developed with this charming man. I love stopping by with a new find for the design layout and finding him watching Disney movies alone, collapsing in a nearby chair to join his movie marathon. I love catching him eating fries and a burger, leaning against the counter, exhausted from his day with a cold beer near his hand. I adore overhearing him on the phone with his niece and nephews. I love all the little things he does that has captured my attention in the time I have known him. I love the easy banter we have and the way he makes me laugh even when I don’t want to. But damn, I want him bad. “You can’t fire me. I have bills to pay and the job isn’t done.”
Winding his large, strong hands around my sides to my back, he grips me tighter. Again I can feel him, even stiffer than before and he teases, “I can offer you a nice severance package. You won’t be complaining.”
His kissing becomes more fervent and I match him lick for lick, nipping at his bottom lip. His hands roam across my back side, gripping and tugging. I bring both hands up to his forearms, grasping his biceps and running my fingers under the sleeves of his t-shirt. His lips pull away and drag along my jawline, moving to tickle my ear with his breath. “I love that you always smell like springtime and lilacs… and Gucci?”
Giggling back, I answer, “You left it on the counter. I couldn’t resist.” Tilting my head back elongates my neck to give him more space to play with his lips, his beautiful scratchy beard against my delicate skin. He obliges, running his nose along the exposed flesh, taking my ear lobe between his full lips and playfully biting down. I can’t stop the moan of pleasure that threatens to escape. “Ah, fuck,” I confess. “I’ve always loved that when you hug me goodbye, I go home smelling like you.”
“So you admit, you like me?” His breath is hot and damp in my ear and my insides melt like lava. I want this man; I’ve needed him for weeks now, wishing he’d see me as more than his decorator, more than a friend.
He licks his tongue around the outer edge of my ear, sending chills down my spine, tenderly nibbling back down towards my chest. He places a slow, wet open mouthed kiss on the side of my neck and I grasp at him tighter, wrapping my arms around his neck, playing with the hair touching the collar of his shirt. “Damn, that feels good,” I sigh. “Christopher, me liking you has never been the issue.”
He scoffs at this, but he doesn’t say anything. Besides, his lips are too busy slowly biting and kissing around the front of my neck to the other side. His hands wander down my back, pulling at the curve of my generous hips. His tenacious fingers drift farther down, under the curve of my ass, pinching together the fabric and pulling up the skirt, exposing my legs, gently brushing against my body. The impact of his desire causes a surge of warmth and wetness to my most intimate spaces. His kisses are igniting a flame only he can control and I struggle to keep my breathing under control. Impossible.
My feelings for Christopher have been simmering for weeks, but I wasn’t sure until just now he actually meant any of his flirtations. The bright lights of Hollywood aren’t easy on a girl built like me, but I’m no wallflower. Sure, he’s Captain America, with biceps to die for, but how do I know he’s strong enough for me. It’s his anxiety, his desire for a private life that’s kept me holding back. I know the looks I get when I’m out and about. Add in the additional attention of being on his arm? I can take it, but I’ve wondered if he can? Has he even thought about what the press or the fans would say? On a good day, in my favorite heels, I stand taller than he does. I’m definitely more than a handful and nothing like the little starlets he is often photographed with…
Pulling back from my neck, Chris’s eyes search my face, placing a hand on my cheek, pushing my red matte lips with his wonderfully curved thumb. My lips part under their own volition and my tongue teases between them, licking the tip of his appendage as it glides across my ready mouth. I can feel his other hand splayed across the top of my back, his fingertips finding the zipper of my dress. “Honey, if you don’t want this, you need to stop me now.”
Taking a deep breath, a smile forms on my face and is reflected in his eyes. “I’m not gonna stop you, but wait one moment…” Quickly, I run my hands down the front of his black t-shirt, feeling his hard chest and ripples of muscle along the way and grasp the bottom hem. With a quick tug up, his shirt is removed and his hair is disheveled. How is he so fucking adorable and sexy at the same time? Winking at him, I grab his hair, winding my hands in it tightly, pulling him back to my mouth. My tongue explores his sweet cavity much as he did to me moments ago. I don’t know what he wants but at this point I don’t fucking care. I just know right now I need him to quell the fire he started.
His hand skates down the zipper, his second hand caressing each inch of skin as it is exposed. I reach between the two of us and unfasten the buckle on his jeans, pulling the belt slowly from each loop. Easing open the buttons on the fly, I hear his breath catch and gently caress his happy trail, following to dip my fingers in the waistband of his Calvins. His skin feels exquisitely soft and he slightly tenses at my touch. As he pulls the dress over my head, I try to maintain a sense of composure. It’s now or never; please, Lord, don’t let him be sorry.
I can’t breathe as Chris steps away from the bed. “Christopher? What are you thinking?” I ask quietly. The summer sun filters into the room and there is no hiding. Feeling so exposed in this moment, I hope he feels the same way I feel about him. If he truly likes me, cares for me, he’s not going to care what I look like with extra pounds on my large frame. Exhaling, my heart skips a beat.
The grin on his face shows he isn’t having any second thoughts as I stand before him in my pink strapless bra and boycut shorts. Every inch, every curve is on display for him. He either needs to take it now, or leave it. “I’m not one of your stick thin models… You can’t break me.”
His laughter is true and rocks through his body. “No, no you aren’t.” He cocks that famous eyebrow of his at me, grinning like he just won a prize. He moves towards me, wrapping one arm around my back and grasping my other shoulder and bending to bring the other arm behind my knees and scoops me up off the floor, tossing me onto the bed. Holy shit! Landing off- center, I watch as he climbs over the top of me. “You’re beautiful,” hovering above me, he kisses the swell of my breasts, devoting a moment of attention to them before seducing my lips again. “You have more of everything I like, and I’m just trying to decide where to start with you…”
“What did you decide?” I tease him, already knowing the answer to the question as he crawls down between my legs, pulling down the lacy pink shorts as he slides off the bed onto his knees. He scoops his hands under my ass and I gasp as he lifts and pulls me to the edge. Marry this man. He can pick you up and move you around like it’s nothing. Giggling, I push it away when he asks what’s so funny. “Nothing, oh my god, you…” I’m unable to finish my thought as he lifts my shapely leg and places my foot up unto the edge of the bed and his beard begins to scratch my inner thigh as he moves into place.
His breath is hot against my bare, shaved mound, his face moving side to side. He taunts and teases me with his beard, leaving stinging marks. His plump lips kiss their way down my wet slit as he runs a hand up my thigh and drags his finger through the juice, smearing it. I tilt my ass down into the bed, placing myself right where I want him to be, spreading my legs wider for him. Looking between the V I have created, he is watching me and I can see the warmth and laughter in his darkened eyes. Such a mischievous one! I reflect the smile back to him and groan in pleasure when his tongue tickles over my center. “So wet,” he offers, taking another lap with his wide tongue. “So sweet.”
His long licks paint over me as I rock my hips against his face. I place my hands at my sides, grasping the thin air. He moans his satisfaction and adds additional pressure by slowly penetrating me with one of his beautiful fingers, “Oh, Christopher, I like that, please,” I sigh with relief.
His other hand reaches for mine and he twines our fingers together, bringing our hands to rest on my rounded belly, pushing me down to hold me in place from rising off the bed. A true orator, he licks down my side walls slowly and back up the center, as he turns and twists his finger with each extraction. His tongue teases me as he penetrates deeper with his finger, each time. My body begins to tense and he slowly changes his motions, not bringing me to my much needed release. His tongue rudely flicks over my swollen clit, before rising to his feet, wiping his beard on his discarded t-shirt. I rise up on my elbows, watching as he quickly removes his jeans and his boxer briefs in one swift move. His lovely cock is already swollen, veins pumping blood through the red tip. Without hesitation I lick my lips at the thoughts of all he can do to me with that plentiful piece of equipment.
He moves to the dresser, and stops. “Where? I have no fucking idea where you put stuff?”
I laugh, “Second drawer, either side.”
“Full service decorator. Love it,” Chris laughs, turning to reach in the drawer.
“Nice ass,” I tell him, enjoying the flex in his Adonis and the way his ass cheek concaves for a brief moment as he bends to look in the drawer.
Upon rising to his full height, his cock also stands at attention as laughter wracks his body again, “Shit! You found these?” He chokes out, placing a pair of metal handcuffs on top of the dresser.
Motioning for him to join me on the bed, I hold out my hand for the condom packet. “I found shit hidden everywhere. The drawer on the other side has even more goodies,” I laugh, peeling open the package and climbing up on my knees.
“God, what you must have thought…” Chris laughs, sitting across from me in a similar fashion as close as he can be, moving his right knee between my open legs. “How did you keep a straight face and watch Disney movies with me?” My tummy brushes against his, tickled by his happy trail as I gently slide the condom over his shaft. His head falls back and he moans at the touch, lightly jerking in my hand. His hands are on my hips, tugging and pulling at my flesh as his mouth finds mine again while I snap the protection in place. Moving to favor attention on my breasts, he quickly releases them from their pink prison. As they fall to their natural position he can see they are even more than his large superhero hands can hold. Attempting to hold them one handed anyway, he admires them closely and inquires, “Or did it peak your interest?”
Pulling at the hair on his neck when he bites a little too hard on my nipple, “Ease up,” I tell him quietly. “Nothing I hadn’t seen before.” I grin and cock my own eyebrow at his look of surprise and interest. I begin to push into his thigh and he sits back on his heels allowing me to straddle his leg as he begins to nuzzle between my breasts, occasionally pulling my tight buds between his teeth. Keeping his grabby hands free, he roams them over my body, caressing every inch. I believe him when he whispers, “You’re so beautiful. I want all of you.” His hands are under my ass and he somehow lifts me again, bringing my legs from under me and laying me onto my back. I smile into his eyes, lost in their depths of blue.
“I want to feel you on me,” I tell him. “Give me all of you, all of your weight.”
He shakes his head and chuckles, “Yea, I don’t hear that often… It’s usually, ‘you’re crushing me, get off.’”
“Big girls don’t break,” I confide in him. “We’re more fun that way.”
He chuckles, “Why do I feel like you have many things you’ll teach me that I didn’t know before?”
Raising my leg up and pinning my knee to his side under his arm, Chris sinks himself into me. He isn’t gentle, but there is a consideration to his force. It’s as if he knows he can be rough, but doesn’t take the liberty yet. He remains above me as he slides in and out as we find our rhythm together. I reach for the pillows bumping me in the head and throw them on the floor. I really fucking hate decorator pillows. “I hate those things,” he laughs. I chuckle too, grabbing his tight ass and pulling him closer to me.
“You could have told me that before I bought two hundred dollars’ worth,” I tease.
“Shit,” he curses, shaking his head as I rise up under him, matching his thrusts. I’m not sure if that was meant for me or the expense of the pillows.
I shift slightly, pulling my leg free from his arm, allowing for deeper penetration from his loaded cock. I run my hands down his sides, smiling when he shivers from my touch. His eyes are on mine, occasionally looking down between us, watching my breasts rub against his solid chest. His strength is an added bonus in the bedroom, his weight welcomed by me. As requested he lays on me, cradling his arms around my face like a cage, holding my hands together above my head as he plows into me. Each new bounce is more forceful, pushing moans and cries from my lips. My walls start to tighten as my need to come burns me. “Chris… Christopher… Oh, honey, I’m coming.”
His additional weight pushes me harder into the bed, a good pain as the orgasm rocks my body, but doesn’t quit finish the job. “Roll me over?” I ask, knowing his certain proclivity for a rounded female form. My pussy still clenches, seeking more, knowing he can fulfill its’ need.
He pulls out holding the condom in place as I rollover onto my knees for him. I know he’s going to laugh at my tat, and he does. “Shit, that’s awesome,” he snickers, grabbing my curvy hips and sliding me onto his cock. My moan echoes through the room, high pitched and repeated as he bounces me on and off his stiff figure. “So tight,” he groans as he pinches at my flesh, pulling me closer. I love the feel of him inside me, deep and full. The wet he creates allows him to fuck me effortlessly and I can push against his hard body with the force I crave. He takes the hint and slams into me harder, slapping his solid thighs against my ass, his hands roaming over my expansive back, “So beautiful,” he whispers again.
His driving force brings me to a second climax, riding the pleasure out differently from this angle, my nipples brushing against the soft down comforter. Fevered cries diminish to quiet whimpers as I continue to take his firm intrusions, his own vocals matching mine and building. He picks up his pace incredibly fast as he parts my ass cheeks, pulling and tugging on my silky skin. His determination takes my breath away, “Oh, Christopher, fuck me, come for me,” I chant breathlessly. My mouth remains open, gasping for air as the tremors of his release rock through my body.
“Oh, fuck, that was so good,” he mumbles as he leans over my back, covering my shoulder blades with butterfly kisses and the occasional touch of his lips. As the ripple effects die down, he slowly pulls out, knotting the condom and tossing it on his pile of clothes, collapsing on the bed beside me. I’ve rolled to my side and he throws his arm over me to maintain his connection.
Laying in the afterglow as he struggles to catch his breath, I giggle and grumble, “Shit, this room is a disaster and those photographers will be here soon.”
He rolls on his side to watch me. “Are they photographing you too, or just the house? Cause you look a little wrecked too. Why don’t you go freshen up and I can put the room back together? And after the photographers leave, we can go get dinner.”
“Christopher, you don’t have anything to prove to me. You don’t have to take me to dinner,” I tell him, running my fingers across the “Loyalty” tattoo on his right shoulder.
He shudders at my touch. “Woman, that’s not for you. I’m starved. And we’ll need sustenance for the rest of the evening.” He leans forward for a gentle kiss and runs his hand over the curve of my hip, sliding his fingers back and caressing the tattoo on my back side. “The tat? What’s that about?”
“Pretty much says it all, don’t you think?”
“Yea, but how did YOU get it?” he asks, still rubbing my hip.
“Not many have seen it, just so you know.” I smile fondly, thinking of the four leaf clover on my ass, with the message ‘You got LUCKY!’ written around it in a circle. I take a deep sigh, “It’s a lot like this one here,” I say as I run my fingers over his Bardsley tattoo, gently caressing the tiny hairs on his torso. “My roommate in college always said she was gonna have that done, but she never got the chance…”
He picks up my hand, squeezing it and bringing it to his lips, kissing the semicolon tattoo on the inside of my left pinkie. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he says, lingering on the spot with his lips, the unspoken questions settled on his tongue.
I shrug my shoulders. “Life isn’t always easy. That’s why I make my living searching for beautiful things to make people happy.”
He sighs deeply, maybe lost in his own thoughts. “Your eye is a gift. Half this stuff I never would have picked on my own, but it’s all me. I love it; it’s all perfect. You did a great job…” Together we lay in the quiet ‘after sex’ bliss, knowing we should be moving and getting ready for the rest of the afternoon. “Hey, what’s with the wooden box thing under the bed?”
Chuckling, I roll onto my back, pulling the sheet up over me. My confidence is only so much, and I know lying on my back is not the most flattering view of my breasts. Looking at him, I wait to see the reaction on his face. “Well, it didn’t take a genius to know why you wanted a raised bed. It’s a platform to pull out for shorter… bed guests.”
His laughter explodes and rocks the bed and I laugh along with him. Moments pass before he can regain himself. “And the mirror? So I can see even when I’m behind? Nice… You designed me a sex room and I didn’t even know it?”
Climbing out of bed on the other side, I pull the sheet around me and laugh. “That’s why you can’t fire me. There are other features to this room only I know about.”
I pick up my clothes and pad barefooted into the bathroom. Before the door closes, he calls out, “Wait! Did you design this room for YOU too?”
Without a word, I blow him a kiss before closing the door. “Shit, sneaky girl,” I hear him say as I get ready for a quick shower.
No, but I sure as hell was hoping, and he did not disappoint…
“Hey!” he calls out, yelling through the door. “And the chaise lounge in the sunroom? Can we try that too?” Smiling at my reflection, I climb into the steamy shower, eager to get the photography of the house finished and dinner over with, ready to start round two.
Click here for part 2 “Let Them Watch”
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