Let Them Watch
*a Chris Evans Fan Fiction*
Chris x OFC (First Person)
Chris Evans and his new girlfriend, a sassy plus sized woman, are spotted out on the town
Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, Fat Shaming, Bullying, Self-Esteem issues, Verbal Confrontation
Word Count 2632
Click here for Beautiful Design to see how Chris meets this lovely lady!
Adjusting my skirt, I freeze when the shrill voices and laughter enter the room. “Did you see the girl he’s with?! Oh my God; she needs her own zip code.”
A blush creeps over my face. I know what everyone else in the restaurant looked like. She can only be talking about me. Living in Hollywood is a nightmare… I stay hidden in the bathroom stall, hoping they will leave soon and I can make my exit unnoticed.
“Well, she has a pretty face? Maybe she’s really sweet?” replies another voice. Her, I like.
“Get off it, a pretty face and nice personality can only get you so far,” chimes in a third woman.
The sound of the water faucet turns on and I can hear the women shuffling through their handbags for lipstick touch ups.
“In heels she’s practically taller than him! And she really should cover up her arms with a sweater or something.”
“A black and white dress? She looks like Shamu!”
The girls dissolve into a fit of giggles, one of them actually making what I can only guess are supposed to be whale sounds. Tears sting my eyes but I’ve dealt with women like them my whole life.
“All the gossip sites say he’s into kink… Who knew that’s what they meant!”
“I hear he likes it rough; she’s definitely got more cushion for pushin’! But a man like that needs a woman like me. I’d look good on his arm; something to be proud of showing off.”
I take a deep breath and adjust myself again before exiting the stall. When the door opens I can see my reflection in the mirror as they all freeze. Tears glisten my eyes as I look straight ahead and wash my hands. I smooth the top of the tight Liberty Roll in my fair hair and flounce the longer waves over my shoulders, before turning to the one I think mouths off the most.
“Oh, honey, you have no idea how he likes his kink! He’d break a skinny bitch like you in half! He needs someone who is ALL woman,” I say, running my hands over my curves before I exit the room. As I open the door, I look back over my shoulder at the other two staring at the leader, and I can only see her backside. “And baby, you ain’t got the ass it takes to make a man like him happy.”
On the other side of the closed door, I lean against the hallway wall, taking a deep breath, counting slowly to get control of my tears and anger. I did not take all that time to get my cat eye makeup perfect to ruin it with tears, I think bitterly to myself. I don’t want to be standing there when they exit, so I gather my composure quickly and head back to the table. I don’t want Christopher to see me upset. He already worries about enough things… I don’t want to add my small bouts of insecurities to that mix.
Crossing the room, I can feel eyes watching me and hear soft giggles and possible comments under people’s breath. I soften again as I see Christopher’s eyes sparkle in the low light as I move closer to him. His appreciative stare causes my heart to flutter. I approach our table and he rises, always a gentleman. He puts his hand on my waist and kisses my cheek. God, he smells so good. I reach passed him to pick up my handbag, and choke out the words, “I’d like to go. I’ll meet you outside.”
“But I just ordered dessert?” Chris says, confused, his hand still on my waist.
I shake my head. “I’m not hungry. Can we please just go?” Tears are threatening to spill from my eyes and from their corners, I can see the three women returning to their table, watching us. Watching me. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing that their words hurt.
Chris watches me closely as the waiter approaches our table. His vision flickers in their direction before I begin to walk away, doing my best to keep my head high and hold my dignity. Moments later, his large, warm hand is on my lower back, ushering me out the door. We take a few steps away from the doorway, down the sidewalk when he grabs at my arm, spinning me around. “Did I do something wrong? What am I missing?”
The pain on his face is evident. I gently cup his beard in my hand, and he moves his head in my hand just enough to tickle my palm. I slowly smile, getting my sense of us back. “Christopher, honey, you didn’t do anything. It’s just…” From the corner of my eye, I see a photographer move towards us snapping photos. I nod my head in that general direction and Chris winks to show me he caught on to it also. “I wanna go home. Let’s get out of here.”
Chris sighs deeply, taking my hand in his and says, “Whatever you want, sunshine.”
I giggle at his nickname for me- Sunshine. He says he’s always amazed by my happiness and enthusiasm; that I add light to his day. If he only knew it was sometimes like a personal pep talk right to my soul… I let my inner struggles roll off, pulling myself to my full height next to him. Walking along, I bump into his arm playfully. “Does it bug you when I wear heels? I’m almost taller than you!”
He stops walking and I laugh as I turn to him. “What?”
“Are you fucking kidding with this?” he asks. “Why wouldn’t I want you to wear heels?! For the first time in ages I can do this without having to twist and bend down.” He tugs on the strap of my sundress and pulls me to him, a twinkle in his eye. He keeps one hand wrapped through the strap of my dress and puts the other in my hair, pulling my lips to his. “Ignore the fucking cameras,” he whispers as his brush against mine softly and tenderly, teasing me. He gently opens his mouth, sucking my top lip in between his sweet grip, the tip of his tongue caressing it. His nose innocently brushes against mine. His antagonizing seduction instantly makes me wet and a groan rumbles in the back of my throat. The bristles of his beard edge my mouth as he chastely finishes the kiss and backs away, holding me tight as my knees slightly give way, crushed under the power of his mouth.
“Does that answer your question?” he chuckles. “Wear heels. Especially later, when this dress is off you,” he challenges quietly, moving again towards the car.
When we reach the car, instead of opening the door for me, he pushes me against it, firmly planting his hand on my ribcage. “Whatever it is,” Chris whispers in my ear. “You don’t have to be tough all the time; you can share your hurt with me. I won’t think less of you and it won’t change the way I feel.”
I sigh deeply, shaking my head at his intuitiveness. “Christopher, I don’t want to do this here.” I try to keep stiff, guarded, knowing cameras are lurking in the shadows, but Chris clearly has other things on his mind as his hands roam down my arms. The goosebumps that form have nothing to do with the cool evening air.
“Fine then. We won’t talk. We’ll just make out in front of these photographers. We’ve got time to kill,” he said before throwing his plump, wet lips against my neck, seeking the spot he knows makes me squirm every time! Damn! My ticklish spot!
I squeal, attracting attention of the paparazzi. “Quit that!” I giggle. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting on the waiter to bring out my real dessert…”
“Oh, my God! Are you joking?”
“I can’t help it,” Chris laughs, his breath warm against my neck. “I like all things sweet.”
“We’re being watched…” I sigh, not really wanting him to stop.
He tilts his head to place a delicate open mouthed kiss on my hummingbird tattoo. Instinctively my eyes close and my head falls back as his cradles it in one of his large hands, his other roaming down my side. His distractions nearly clear the tabloid photogs from my mind. “Let them watch…”
Running his mouth up my neck, his beard scratches my skin as his lips move to mine. Oh, my god, who taught this boy to kiss? She deserves a medal… Up close under the street lights, I can see the devilish gleam in his eyes. “What are you up to, Christopher?”
“Shh…,” he whispers, closing his mouth over mine with a little more force this time.
Our private bubble bursts at the sound of high pitched giggles and deep laughter. The photographers seem to step back into the darkness of the night as the group of mean girls and their men walk in front of our car. My posture instantly locks, anticipating a final retaliation for my bold words in the washroom.
Chris must sense the change in me, asking quietly, his voice vibrating against me, “Babe? Is that it? Did one of those women say something to you?”
He takes the dessert box from the young waiter who has made his delivery, offering him another tip and nodding his thanks. He barely takes his eyes off me during the exchange. His stare makes me want to come clean, to tell him my fears, to wonder aloud if he’s made the wrong choice. People will always be watching us, for his fame or my size… Let them watch, he said… I sigh in frustration. He’s right. We sure as hell can’t hide all the time….
“Not to me… I overheard them talking,” I admit, moving aside as Chris reaches around me to finally open the door.
Before helping me in the car, he kisses me tenderly, chuckling quietly and placing the box with his sweet treat in the back. I watch with desire as he crosses in front of the car under the glow of the parking lights. His shorter hair mimics a James Dean quality and matches the rockabilly style I often like to wear. His jeans hug at his tapered waist just right and the t-shirt rides up a bit with each stride of his legs, allowing a glimpse at his glorious Adonis belt. There’s a reason I can’t seem to keep my hands off him. He is without a doubt; the sexiest man I have ever seen.
Settling in the car, he takes my hand, kissing the back of it gently. “Sunshine, when you got up from the table, all heads turned to watch you.” He makes a tsking sound when I scoff at his words. “Not for the reason you think, babe…. The sway of your hips? Drives a man crazy… The front view; the bounce? The deep cleavage? A man wants to get lost in there for days. You’re everything those women aren’t and they were jealous.”
“You sweet man. I love that you are so blind, but they said everything I think.”
“Then tell yourself to ‘shut up.’ I see an amazing, talented, funny, charismatic business woman, with great taste in fashion and men,” he smiles, pointing at himself. “Trust me. I don’t tell stories; I just act them out on screen. You’ve known me for months. Do I waste my time on things that aren’t worth it?”
“No…” I answer quietly, consoled by his words, finding additional strength in them.
“I can’t imagine you stayed too quiet after hearing them speak…” he starts, watching as the smile grows on my face. “What did you do?” he asks warmly.
I giggle, sharing with him the story of my encounter with the mean girls. Laughing so hard, he hits the steering wheel, beeping the horn and startling a young couple walking to their car. “You actually said that to her?! That’s awesome! I bet she learns to keep her mouth shut,” he wheezes out.
I shake my head, “Girls like her never learn. If God has a sense of humor, she’ll get old and fat one day too….” I pinch the bridge of my nose, thinking about what I said. “I didn’t mean that. Everybody is what they are. Size and shape doesn’t change you, or make you better or worse than anyone else. She’d still be bitter, just about something else.”
“See? That? That’s why you’re my ‘Sunshine.’” Chris winks at me, starting the ignition and slowly backing the car out of the tight space. “You could let it get you down, but you don’t dwell on it. Some stupid bitch you’ll never see again shouldn’t have power over you… But you have got to depend on me. I’m strong, baby, you know that. I can bear that weight with you.”
I chuckle at his word choice, watching the passing lights and shoppers along Rodeo Drive.
“Seriously. I have to get you to see what I see, and my words aren’t getting through that beautiful, thick skull of yours,” Chris says, tapping his finger against the steering wheel. “I got it!” he shouts in the confined space, laughing when I jump. “What are you doing this weekend?”
Confused, I turn to look at him, wondering about the giant smile spreading across his face. “I don’t know? Why? Whatdya have in mind?”
Chris waves a pedestrian across before advancing at the green light. “I’m thinking we need to go home to Boston,” his voice trails off, watching me from the corner of his eye.
“What? Boston? Why?” I ask, my speech nearly impaired from this suggestion. “Christopher, we haven’t been dating that long. Why would you take me to Boston?”
He turns off the road, taking the more scenic route back to his newly redecorated home, courtesy of me and my design team. He shrugs his shoulders, waving his hand like an invitation home, to meet his family, is no big deal. It’s a big fucking deal. “Some of those pictures from the parking lot will be all over the internet. I wouldn’t have let them be taken if I didn’t want them. How often do you see pap shots of me in the press? Those photos are to show you, and the world, I don’t care what size your dress is. You are fucking perfect for me.” He continues to watch the road carefully, slowing as a deer crosses our path. “Look out, Bambi,” he mumbles under his breath. “Mom will want to meet you; the girl I allowed myself to get photographed with…”
Anxiously, my shaking hands brush my hair to the side and tie it in a low knot, a nervous habit. “You want me to meet your mom?”
“If words can’t tell you how alluring I think you are, maybe it’s time you meet the three most important women in my life. You’ll see how beautiful they are to me,” he explains, his voice nearly choked in emotion. “You’ll know then you are beautiful to me because of you, inside and out.”
Chris’s mom and sisters shaped the man he is; although I haven’t met them yet, I bought frames for all the pictures of them displayed in his home. The soft spot in our hearts for the handsome man beside me isn’t the only thing we have in common, I think, picturing the lovely women in my mind. My voice is also strangled with emotion, “Well, then, I guess we’re going to Boston this weekend.”
Click here to read “Dancing Lessons”
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