Chris Evans x reader
Warnings: none, literally just fluff.
All credit goes to Marvel.
A/N: Hi guys, I’m so sorry I haven’t been posting. I’ve been coping with a super-tough breakup and have essentially lost all of my friends during it, so I’ve pretty much lost all motivation to do everything. I have so many fics I’ve been working on for you guys but I can only type a few words until my thoughts start drifting back to my situation. Well wishes are appreciated and will hopefully motivate me to get your fics published. Here’s a short drab for you guys until I can get on my feet again.
“I’m a grown ass man, I still don’t see why I need makeup to walk down a carpet.” Your 6 foot tall, 35 year old client said.
“Shush, your cheeks get splotchy when you get nervous.” You said, applying more foundation with your beauty sponge. He scoffed, but you knew he was suppressing a smile.
“I do not get nervous!”
“Do I need to show you the pictures of you meeting Tom Brady again to prove to you why you need a heavy coverage foundation?”
“It’s all the cameras,” Chris brushed off. You rolled your eyes and laughed at him. You worked as a makeup artist for many celebrities, but never had you worked for someone as down-to-earth and personable as Captain America himself, Chris Evans. You lightly began brushing his eyebrows in place with your clear brow gel. “Don’t forget the beard.” You laughed at his comment.
“Oh, honey, there is no taming that thing.” He smiled as you pulled back, admiring your work. You smirked, going back into your Morphe Lugger bag, pulling out mascara. He laughed sarcastically at you.
“Hardy-har-har,” you laughed with him and put the Too-Faced mascara back in its designated pocket. “You know, you should be nice. One day I could be doing your makeup.” You rolled your eyes at him, stepping out of your robe and exposing the expensive black dress underneath. You spritzed setting spray on him and tucked his foundation and beauty sponge into your clutch, in case he needed touch-ups.
“Yeah, wouldn’t that be the day.” Chris pulled himself out of his seat, checking himself out in the large vanity mirror. You stood behind him, also checking for any flaws in your makeup, and turned when one of the red carpet assistants called, saying that they were ready for Chris to walk. He turned and looked down at you, and you looked up at him.
“Chris.” You smiled. He grabbed the clutch out of your hands and placed it back on the vanity table. You stared at him, confused. Your arm reached out to grab it again when his hand stopped you.
“How about instead of walking with me as my makeup artist tonight, you walk with me as my date?” You raised an eyebrow at him, grinning at him.
“Are you sure about that, Cap?”
“Absolutely,” he smiled down at you but looked up, biting his lip, smiling, and holding out one finger to signal ‘wait’. “Only if I really do get to do your makeup.”
2 MONTHS LATER
“Okay, guys. That has been the boyfriend does my makeup tag! Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go wash the blue eyeshadow and the poorly drawn-on Captain America shield off my face!”