Long Distance ~ Chris Evans x Reader

The next morning, you woke up with the sun shining in your eyes. It was too bright for your hungover self and all you wanted to do was crawl under the covers and never come out again, curse your best friend for getting you so plastered. 

A groan from beside you stops all train of thought, your eyes snapping open despite the protest from your pounding headache. You look around, without moving your body too much, to see that you were in a hotel. It was nicer than the ones you usually stayed in (the two-bed, kitchen, bathroom, single room type places). Meaning that you had a separate bedroom from the actual kitchen and 'living space' of the room. 

Should you sneak away? Pretend that you forgot something at home if whoever this guy is wakes up mid change? All you had was your outfit from the night before, meaning you definitely would be doing the walk of shame. 

With a small sigh, you push yourself from the bed and begin the tedious task of finding your entire outfit. After searching the room and the kitchen area adjacent to the bedroom, you could only find your pants, shirt, shoes, and bra. No underwear and no socks. Just great, the things that would've helped you be the most comfortable on the way out.

Your purse sits on the kitchen counter with your phone next to it, as if you'd stopped last night to carefully put it somewhere safe. Quickly you text one of your friends, asking them to pick you up, before pulling on your clothes. Another groan emits from the room you'd stepped out of and your curiosity grows.

You've never actually done this before. Sure, you've had a boyfriend or two that you shared a room with but this? A total stranger that you probably met at that club? God, what would your mother be thinking if she could see you now? She'd be disappointed, that was for sure. 

As quickly as you dared, you move back towards the bedroom and peek from behind the door. Most of the man's body was covered by the sheets on the bed but you could see his biceps and it made you wish you could remember the night you shared. His face was deep in the pillows, obscuring your view. This man was beautiful, albite a little familiar, in more ways than one. 

As if sensing that someone was watching him, the man rolls over, giving you the perfect view of his face. Your throat goes dry, your face pale as a ghost, and your mouth opening like a fish. There was no way this was real, no, you were still asleep. A drunken fantasy that your mind came up with to occupy you till you woke up. Right?!

Your phone buzzes, an text from your friend saying they were downstairs and waiting. After debating with yourself for a few minutes, you snap a quick picture and bolt out of the room. No one would believe you otherwise and you'd probably not believe yourself when you sobered up fully!

What you don't notice as you leave is the man jumping awake due to you slamming the door. He sighs, placing a hand on his forehead as he tries to piece together the night. Disappointment floods his system as he sees your side of the bed empty, you could've at least stayed for coffee or something. 

You stand in the elevator, tapping your foot in the hopes of making it go faster. The old woman beside you continues to glance your way in worry and annoyance, you hadn't even checked yourself in the mirror before leaving, and you were starting to regret it from your reflection on the elevator doors. 

After what felt like hours, the doors open and you spot your friend waiting in the lobby. You rush through the morning crowd and grab his/her arm to get them out of there as fast as possible. They laugh behind you before taking over to direct you to their car. Once you're safely inside, your friend turns to you with a raised brow.

"That bad?" They question as a laugh falls past their lips. "You look like you had fun." 

"No, listen." You shake your head. "I'm awake right now, right?"

"Yeah?" She/He replies. "Are you okay?"

"No, I slept with..." You trail off while biting your lip. How could you say this without sounding insane?

"You slept with Mike from Biology?" They guess. "He seems like his parents would pay for something like this. Don't worry about it, he's only your partner...it wasn't Mike was it?"

"No." You shake your head. "ItwasChrisevans."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right." Your friend awkwardly chuckles. "Come again?"

"Isleptwithchrisevans." You repeat quickly.

"You need to slow down." They order.

"I...slept...with...Chris...Evans." You slowly repeat, slowly each syllable with much effort. 

"No fucking way." They scoff. "You got me, funny joke-" Your friend cuts themself off when you show them the picture you'd taken not ten minutes ago. She/He looks at you, then the phone, and repeats a few times. "No fucking way! Was it good?"

"That's what you're concerned about?" You demand.

"What?" They inquire. "It's not like you're going to see him again! It's Chris Evans, a one night stand! Now tell me it was good."

"That's the sad part." You admit with a sigh. "I don't fucking remember."