Chapter Text
Two months after the news broke that Chris Pratt was no longer single, you had settled into a new schedule. Normally, you jogged alone in the mornings; now, two of your best friends accompanied you, the three of you carrying mace if there were ever a rogue paparazzo. As much as you liked going to the local grocer, you placed your order online, and an hour later, the doorbell was ringing. The blinds remained mostly drawn and, at night, only two or three lamps were turned on.
Thankfully, you weren’t bothered too much at the school. Mainly because the school didn’t allow journalists or paparazzi on the property at any given time. You made a mental note to thank them in a special way.
The students, however, were a completely different story. They were eleven and twelve years old, and they definitely knew who Chris Pratt was; mainly because of Marvel casting him as the lead in Guardians of the Galaxy. Well, that and the upcoming movie; Jurassic World.
Seeing how you had the inside scoop, the group of children had been relentless in their thirst of all things Guardians and Jurassic World. After what felt like hundreds of questions later, you made a new classroom rule; one question about Chris Pratt a day. Not one question per student per day, one question from the group every day.
While most of your life and routine had changed, one thing remained constant; your nightly talks with Chris, and tonight was no different.
“Guess what,” Chris chuckled low in his throat.
You were on your back, legs dangling off the bed. “What?”
“You have to guess.”
You gave a soft hum as you pretended to think about what he wanted to tell you. “I don’t know.”
“That ain’t a guess, darlin’,” he teased, the baritone of his voice bringing back memories of the long nights in Hawaii.
“Alright, alright,” you huffed in faux irritation. “You’re almost done filming?”
“Close,” Chris cooed. “We actually wrapped earlier this morning.”
Your heart started hammering in your chest. “Yeah? So… what does, uh, what does that mean?”
The doorbell chimed moments after he said, “You tell me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you gasped.
Chris was laughing loudly. “Come on, darlin’. Aren’t you gonna get that?”
“What’d you do, Chris?” Your legs were shaking as you stood and wandered through the living room and into the kitchen to your back door.
“You’ll see.” Hearing his voice on the other side of the door, you hurriedly threw the locks and ripped open the door.
After putting the phone on the counter, you launched yourself at him, thankful that he was ready and caught you, securing you to his chest with one arm. You were kissing him, moaning at the way he responded; his now phoneless hand on your ass, his mouth slanting over yours, his tongue gliding along yours.
“Now, that’s what I call a warm welcome,” he panted when you parted, his forehead on yours.
“I missed you,” you admitted, your nails scraping against his scalp.
“I missed you, too.” Chris set you on your feet, grabbed his bag, and stepped into the house.
After throwing the lock, all you could do was stare. He was actually there, towering over you, his bottom lip quirking as he struggled to keep from smiling.
“What?” you literally giggled, blushing from the intensity of his gaze.
“I’m just happy to be here with you,” was his answer.
You blushed harder and slapped his arm playfully. “Why didn’t you tell me you were comin’?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Chris insisted, bending down to kiss you sweetly.
You were humming against his lips and gripping the lapels of his jacket. “You know what you need?”
“Besides you?” he chuckled, toeing off his shoes, lips brushing against yours. He bent at the waist and wrapped a thick arm around your waist, pulling you off of the floor when he stood.
You gave an excited shriek and secured your legs around his waist, moaning heavily at the familiarity that rolled through you, at the way his mouth burned a trail up and down your neck before kissing you fiercely.
“Jesus, baby,” he grit out, cock twitching behind the denim of his jeans. “I fuckin’ missed you.”
A shiver shot down your spine and settled heavily between your legs. “Show me,” you gasped, your nails scraping along his scalp.
Chris chuckled low in his throat and looked down at you with a hunger you hadn’t seen before. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he set you on the table, his hands sliding beneath the sweatshirt you were wearing You hissed as his cold fingers danced up your sides, offset by the heat rushing through you.
“Chris,” you moaned.
“I know, baby,” he breathed, pushing your sweatshirt up and over your head, tossing it behind him, his head dropping, his tongue darting out to lick hungrily at your breast. He moaned as he pulled the nipple into his mouth, the sound vibrating through you, making you tingle with need.
You leaned back, your hands on the table, your legs still around Chris’s waist, more than willing to let him have his way with you. And he was determined to do just that.
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your yoga pants, roughly pushing them down, his fingers seeking and finding your damp panties, a smirk crossing his lips when he realized how wet you were, how much you needed him, wanted him.
“Mmm, all for me, sweetheart,” he hummed. “Fuck, I wanna taste.” He dropped to his knees, pulling you to the edge of the table, his warm lips on your inner thighs, the stubble on his chin and cheeks scratching you.
The first swipe of his tongue through the lips of your pussy sent a jolt of electric, pulsing heat through you, lighting every nerve ending on fire. God, it felt like an eternity since you’d been with Chris; his every touch was like a match to kindling. When his mouth closed over you, you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that left your mouth, Chris’ name a curse on your lips.
You propped a foot onto his shoulder, using it for leverage as his tongue and teeth explored you, tasting you, teasing you. A thick digit slid between your folds, teasing you until you were whining, begging to feel more of him. With a flick of his tongue on your clit, he did as you requested, pressing one finger into you, a second joining in on the fun several moments later.
Chris had you whimpering and moaning as he urged you to the edge of oblivion. Your hands were in his hair, tugging on the short strands as electricity started sparking under your skin, as the coil in your gut tightened until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fuck, Chris,” you gasped. “I’m… I’m gonna -”
He chuckled low in his throat as his lips sealed around your clit, his teeth scraping over the sensitive bud. His dexterous fingers twisted and crooked, dragging deliciously against your fluttering walls, hitting your g-spot with precision.
You came apart with a gritty cry of his name, your back arching off of the table, your legs shaking around his head. Chris worked you through the orgasm, only stopping when you tugged roughly on his hair. He gave a throaty chuckle before he bent down and dropped slick kisses to your stomach and breasts, capturing your lips in his for a searing kiss. A moment later, his arms were around your waist and he was pulling you off of the table, a hand tangled in your hair, controlling the kiss as he carried you into your bedroom.
It was Chris’ voice that woke you. He was on the phone, in the living room, and he did not sound happy. You slid out of the bed and quickly got yourself presentable - brushed your hair and teeth, went to the bathroom, washed your hands, threw on Chris’ button-up shirt - and ventured out of your room.
“Baby, what is it?” you inquired from behind the couch.
Icy eyes drilled into yours as he held up a finger. “I want them taken down and I want that asshole fired.”
Oh, boy. That couldn’t be good. You hadn’t seen or heard him that angry since the news broke that the two of you were a couple. Shit, that got your mind going.
“I don’t fuckin’ care,” he growled, pacing back and forth across the room. “It’s private property; he trespassed and took pictures of an intimate moment.”
You held your breath as you rounded the couch, praying that it wasn’t what you feared it was. Shit. SHIT. It was worse than what you had imagined it to be.
Chris Pratt showed up in Y/T last night, surprising his current flame after filming wrapped on Jurassic World. As you can see, the two wasted no time getting down and dirty.
There were a handful of photos attached, a couple of them showing various angles of Chris’ wide shoulders between your legs on the kitchen table. Nothing more could really be seen; your face hidden by shadows and your breasts censored with black boxes. Then there were the ones of Chris standing, you pressed to his chest, the pair of you kissing before disappearing from view.
“That’s not good enough,” Chris retorted with a scoff. “They need to learn that -”
Embarrassment and resentment surged through you, blurring your vision and twisting your gut. You tore out of the room and dropped in front of the toilet, emptying the meager contents of your stomach. You retched until there was nothing left, until your sides and back hurt.
You were crying in the corner of the bathroom when Chris found you, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around your legs, head hung. When Chris dropped down next to you, you curled into him and cried harder.
“I’m sorry,” you sputtered through your tears.
“Baby girl, no,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “You ain’t got anything to apologize for.”
You tucked your head into his neck, no doubt staining his shirt with your tears. “I… I didn’t… the blinds were open.”
Chris pulled you into his lap and held you tight, humming gentle assurances into your hair. “This is not your fault. Those… those vultures can’t get it through their thick heads that not everything needs to be shared.”
“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even wrap your head around the implications of what you were saying.
“Wait, what do you mean?” he wanted to know, his heart hammering against your cheek.
You pushed out of his grip, stood up, and backed away, despite his intention of keeping you in his lap. “This, you and me, some asshole behind a lens analyzing everything I do, everything wedo, spying on us. I can’t do it.”
What were you doing? You were head-over-heels in love with Chris, ready to spend the rest of your life with him should he want that. At the same time, you felt crowded, not by Chris, by the men that had been camped outside of your home for the last two months, by the man that had intruded upon your personal life. You almost felt trapped, and you needed to find a way out.
“No,” he argued, standing tall, confusion etched on his face. “You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that.” Chris made to cross the room, but you were shaking your head.
“I mean it, Chris,” you said tremulously, fresh tears in your eyes.
“You don’t,” he insisted desperately.
You shook your head. “You need to find someone that is cut out for this. Clearly, that’s not me.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” Chris ground out through his teeth. “I want you. Only you.”
You gave a sigh of exasperation as your heart started to crack. “Chris, please,” you begged him, a hand over your mouth.
“I’m not leaving, baby girl,” he announced. “You can scream at me, throw things at me, but I will not leave you. Not now. Not ever.”
“They are outside my home, Chris,” you went on to explain. “They’re harassing me as soon as I get off of work, all because we’re dating. And now there’s pictures of us fucking. I can’t… I can’t do this!”
Chris closed his eyes and pulled in a deep breath. “The pictures are already being removed, the photographer that took them is under investigation, as is the magazine that employed him.”
“What… what about everyone that saw them? I’m sure they’re plastered everywhere now.”
He risked taking a step closer, nodding in approval when you didn’t back away. “A letter from my lawyer and agent will be hitting the web in about five minutes, demanding any pictures be taken down. If they refuse, they’ll be sued. As for the public, well, as long as they don’t post it anywhere, there’s nothing that can be done.”
Your racing heart started to slow down only slightly, bringing with it the realization of everything you had just said. Chris was still approaching slowly, a wary look in his eyes, and it made you feel terrible. You had just told the man that you loved that you wanted to end things. No wonder he looked like he was going to cry.
Chris reached you and wrapped you in his arms where you apologized into the crook of his neck. “It’s just not something I’m used to. It scares me,” you explained.
“What scares me is the thought of losing you. I can’t lose you, Y/N,” he sighed.
“You won’t,” you promised, leaning back to look at him. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”
Chris carried you into the bedroom where he sat down on the edge of the bed, maneuvering your bodies until the two of you were lying down. “Move in with me,” he suggested softly. “I have a farm in Washington. It’s remote and there’s not a chance of any surprises by the paparazzi.”
“But… my job, Chris,” you argued weakly.
Truth be told, you hadn’t been happy with your job for a while, and had been thinking about looking for something else. The opportunity to do so hadn’t been presented, until now.
“You can still teach, if that’s what you want to do. There are many teaching jobs open,” Chris said. “Even if you don’t want to work, you don’t have to. Washington is a beautiful state to live in; you can do anything you want.”
You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. “Even if I wanted to stay home all day and sleep?”
“Anything you want,” Chris chuckled, his eyes finally lightening.
“Walk around the house naked?” you suggested playfully, your leg draping over his hip.
“Especially that,” he breathed against your ear lobe before capturing it between his teeth.
“Good, that’s good.” You pushed your head into the pillow, exposing the long line of your neck to him.
He rolled you to your back where he settled heavily between your thighs. “Is that a yes? Will you move out to Washington with me?”
Your answer came out in the form of a ragged whisper, barely audible. “Yes.”
“Say it again,” Chris growled, his chest vibrating with the intensity of it.
“Yes,” you obliged, adding more volume to it as his cock swelled against you.
“Say it like you mean it,” he ordered you, his teeth scraping over your pulsepoint.
Jolts of pleasure zipped down your spine. “Yes,” you cried out.
You could hear the wicked smile in his voice as he praised you, “Such a good girl.”
Chris kissed you fiercely before ripping open the shirt of his you were wearing. Buttons bounced and skittered along the floor, but he didn’t care. You were all that mattered, and if he had to spend the rest of the day showing you, he sure as hell would.