CHRIS EVANS & SEBASTIAN STAN IMAGINES

Tag, you're it (Part two)

Melanie Martinez inspired series!!!

Flashback:

A surge of pain erupted in your ribs. Your mother, intoxicated, kept swinging punches even though you were on the floor crying, begging her to stop. She did not clarify why she was upset with you. 

You took hold of her legs, squeezing, trying to block out the torture. "Unwanted, pathetic child!" She chanted through gritted teeth. "Get off me!" Your mother kicked your frail body off of her.  That action made her drop her wine bottle, crashing onto the floor, soaking you with the dark red liquid. 

The glass spread across the wooden ground. Some pieces getting wedged in between the floor boards. "See what you've done!" She gave you one last kick to the stomach then stormed off to her bedroom and slammed the door. 

You laid there for several hours, crouched in a ball sobbing away, holding your stuffed bear, that had been slightly cut up due to the glass. 

You stirred yourself awake, you had been having PTSD dreams. Chris had noticed that. Usually, you'd wake up crying. He'd hold you and console your trembling little frame. 

"What goes on at home?" 

Chris had asked you that question. You'd instantly turn timid and couldn't articulate your words properly. There are these few occasional times where you had opened up and told him the miraculous adventures you've had. 

"That's not right." He'd stroke your back and kiss the top of your head. Small gestures like those were appealing to you. Fatherly characteristics; something you weren't used to. Since your dad was never around; always gone on 'business' trips. 

You wanted to be daddy's girl, but you were not your brother. Somehow, Golias, your older sibling, had managed to surpass you in everything. Your father would call him his 'boy', give him the praise you always craved for. But then when you wanted some sort of attention from him he would say, "Go play with your dolls or something, this is guy stuff." and he'd shoot your brother a grin, mocking your efforts. 

It hurts deep in your chest, that you would never be able to say "My dad loves me." but yet you still smiled. 

Chris basically just let you do what you wanted all day, never ordered you around, never forcing you to go do unnecessary chores. He honestly just liked your company. He would tell you how people would call him a disgusting man because of his secret problem. But you failed to see why. 

He also told you that his sister died of cancer when he was nine. They were twins and very close. The death took its toll on Chris and he's been looking for his long-lost sister ever since. He showed you a picture of her. She had vibrant (Y/E/C) eyes and a beautiful smile. Her hair was (H/L) and the color was a gorgeous (H/C). You soon realized that her looks were very similar to yours. Then it all clicked. 

You got up from the kid's bed you were sleeping in that was almost too small for your eighteen-year-old self. You walked into the kitchen where Chris was making cupcakes for you. You padded quietly to the island sitting on one of those chairs that swing. "Hello (Y/N)." He spoke softly, peering an eye at you from the bowl. "Hello, Chris." You replied, propping your fist under your chin.

"What color of frosting would you like? Pink or Purple?" He asked stirring the tacky substance in the mixing bowl. "How about green?" You asked shyly. Even though it's been two years since the day you got here you were still shy around this man. It was a strange relationship. "Green?" He repeated. "Yeah, it's a pretty color. But if you don't have it, that's alright." You looked down at your pink skirt that rode up to the middle of your thighs. 

"Green it is! Anything for my sweet doll." He smiled. His name calling made you blush, just the way the words rolled off his tongue made you swoon. 

 You didn't like to be kept in this house. Honestly, you hated it. But the only thing that made you stay,  was the fear of what he would do to you.

You tried running off once; never again.

 Chris was showering and the door upstairs was left unlocked. You've never been upstairs, ever. But when you went to go take a look, it was synchronized with the exact second that Chris had set foot outside the bathroom. He saw you at the top of the stair reaching for the door.

You can still feel the fear that you had as you looked him in the eye. His blue eyes were black and he didn't even have to say anything. You were paralyzed just by the look he gave you. Chris's sweet gentle features were hard and dark. 

You immediately played it cool and locked the door, padding downstairs silently and stopping in front of him.  He remained with his current face, not bulging. He looked at you straight in the eye. Your face stayed un-readable, well at least that's what you were trying to do. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it after a second, hesitating. He simply patted your head and walked into his bedroom to get dressed. After all, he was only in a towel. 

He could have hit you and started screaming at you, but he didn't. He knew your terrible past and how you were scared of your parents. He didn't strive to scare you, he wanted you to love him. Just like his sister did when they were young. 

"(Y/N)?" Chris called out. You snapped out of your daze focusing on Chris's hand that he waved in front of you. "You zoned out there." He chuckled raspily. "Sorry." You blushed, embarrassed. "Don't be sorry, I know you space out sometimes." He winked. Obviously remembering the time where you had spaced out looking at Chris when he was taking off his shirt, showing his well-sculpted chest he's been working on for years in his gym at home. You were a big girl now and you had all these new hormones flooding through your whole body. Even though it was inappropriate, sometimes you would have dirty thoughts about Chris.  

You blushed harder as you remembered. Chris was an attractive man that had done nothing to hurt you, except abduct you and keep you hostage. But you didn't mind. Yes, you were trapped, but at least you weren't being abused mentally and physically anymore. It had it's pro's and con's but oh well. 

There were many pros and many cons, actually. You hated that you were technically a replacement. It made you feel useless in a way because in reality Chris only wants his sister back. You, on the other hand, wanted Chris in a different way. You adored the way he would gently stroke your legs, brush your hair, sometimes even cuddle you. 

He never touched you sexually. The closest that you had gotten to getting this 26-year-old man in the bed was when he had placed a kiss on your neck; his soft beard hairs rubbing against your tender skin. 

You had cuddled with only underwear on before, but nothing ever amounted to actually having sex. You've thought of it. Pondered what it was like to have him inside you. But never made the move on him. 

Luckily you had seen him naked once. He was getting ready for work and that night you had slept in his bed with him, you peeked open an eye and there he was in his glorious nude self. 

It was often that you'd sleep with him, mostly because he understood that the single bed was getting small. You liked feeling his strong arms around your waist.

It was a lot to handle. Since you felt twelve and acted like twelve when you were eighteen and would most likely be living the time of your life if you weren't stuck in this basement. You hadn't had the chance to really mature yet, even though your body had. 

-Adele

Just as promised ;)))