Warnings: swearing, suggestions of sexual activity
Summary: Chris and reader host an award show together (as requested by anonymous)
Y/N = your name and Y/L/N = your last name
This is your first time hosting an award show. Hell, your first time hosting anything on live TV. It’s all really exciting. You had to arrive an hour earlier than when the guests started arriving, so you could have everything done professionally. You’d be hosting alongside the one and only (may I say, very hunky) Chris Evans, so you’ll be getting everything. Basically a whole package.
You sat in the chair looking at yourself in the mirror facing you. There were 3 people pulling your hair into some sort of style. After they’d finished, another 2 people came and laid their makeup tools on the table in front of you. They quickly got to work and it felt like they were smothering layer upon layer of makeup on your face.
The final result, however, turned out to be amazingly perfect. You looked stunning, every curve of your body hugged by your beautiful red dress, and every contour defined on your face. It felt like there was a lot on your face - but that was because you didn’t tend to use this much makeup - however, there actually wasn’t. On closer inspection, you saw that there was only the thinnest layer of makeup covering your skin. It felt great.
You were taken out of the dressing room and into another room. There he sat, in a chair with a mirror facing him. Someone was busy fixing his short beard, and you stepped closer. He almost gasped when he saw you in the reflection of the mirror. “You look amazing, Y/N,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure you’ll have ladies drooling all over you when you’re finished, Chris,” you replied.
“I hope not, you won’t even be able to imagine how much this suit cost me,” he laughed.
“Well, what can I say…a well-tailored suit is to women what lingerie is to men. And lemme tell you, you’re looking pretty damn good.”
“Shut up,” he chuckled.
You sat down beside him and waited till the guy was finished with Chris’ beard. He whipped off the cloth that was placed on Chris’ chest to show the final result. He looked flawless, his tux was hugging his body and it revealed his muscular Dorito body shape. His shoes were polished to a fine shine and his hair was combed to the side.
“Wow. You look great.”
“Great? I sat in this chair for what seemed like forever and all I get is ‘great’?” He replied, smiling, whilst standing up.
“Stop being so full of yourself, Evans. Not everyone’s perfect.” You joked, walking to the door.
“I’m perfect, now?” He asked enthusiastically, catching up to you and snaking an arm around your waist. You huffed jokingly while you both walked down the hallway.
It was time for you to go onstage. Chris politely gestured for you to go first and you held your full-length dress by the knees as you made your way up the steps. An eruption of applause overwhelmed you both as you walked across the stage. There were cameras everywhere, and you were wired up with microphones. “Good evening, everyone. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you started and waited for Chris to speak.
“And I’m Chris Evans, and we’re going to be your hosts for tonight,” he said with a smile.
“It’s been an unforgettable night for all of us. So congratulations to everyone that won an award tonight,” Chris said with a dazzling smile.
“And congratulations to everyone that was nominated for the awards, because everyone’s a winner.”
“We hope you thoroughly enjoyed tonight as much as we did.”
“If we don’t see you at the after party, have a good night!” You finished, and you and Chris walked off of stage.
The whole room was only luminated by the moving colored lights, so it was hard to concentrate on anything. It was getting hot and stuffy in there, because of the many bodies dancing together on the dance floor. The music was loud enough to make you feel vibrations in your toes. You’d downed a couple tequilas but you were conscious enough to make sense of your surroundings. A lot of celebrities were already past the point of just being drunk; it was hilarious. You only wish you could video it all. You were stumbling over people’s feet, trying to find somewhere to steady yourself.
You suddenly felt hands grabbing your hips from behind, and then they shouted ‘boo’ - as if to scare you. They slurred the word, so it sounded more like, “b-buh…booooooooooo.” You turned around to see what looked like an extremely drunken Chris, dancing around like a maniac. Wait - no, he was tap dancing. The man was actually tap dancing.
“Dance with me,” he once again slurred, but he said it more like a statement, and pulled you to him. He whipped you around so that your back was pressed against his front, and held you against his body. What he did next sent you into overdrive. He started grinding against you to the beat of the music, and he rolled his hips into yours, basically making you feel his cock against your ass.
You and Chris had been friends, but you had to admit that you sorta had a little crush on the guy. I mean, he’s hot as hell, and he’s the nicest person. No one can blame you. You moaned out loud at the contact, but it wasn’t loud enough to be heard by anyone. At least, you didn’t think so. “Y/N…You - you’re hot,” he said, his tone now perfectly normal. Well, this is confusing. He ground against you again, and you could feel his breath on your ear as he said, “I heard that sexy moan of yours; I think you’re enjoying this, don’t you?”
He’s not drunk. He never was. He was acting drunk. He’s a fucking actor, you idiot!
He spun you round again, turning you to face him. On his face, he wore a devilish smirk, and out of nowhere, he grabbed your ass. He closed his eyes, threw his head back a little, and bit his bottom lip. You’re both enjoying this, no fucking doubt about that.
You’re rebellious side took over your whole body, and because of the drinks you’d had earlier, you’d gained some 'drunken courage.’ You placed your hand on his crotch and applied little pressure. He bucked his hips forward against your hand, so to try and be a tease, you pulled your hand away. He was frustrated that you’d done that, frustrated to the point where he grabbed your hand and led you into a room upstairs of the, quite expensive looking, club.