Mrs. Evans

Mrs. Evans 4 19 2016.png

Mrs. Evans

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris X Reader

A future Chris Evans has an encounter with his wife on what is scheduled to be a busy Saturday

Warnings: NSFW, language, adult situations, oral sex

Word Count 1187

The steam seeps under the door adding comfortable warmth to the room.  You knock on the door and wait for his response.  “Can’t stay away can you?” he teases, his charm emanating from his vocal chords.

You roll your eyes and open the door.  A wave of damp heat washes over you as you step to the counter and open the cabinet.  “Not now, honey, I just needed to brush my teeth before I go to the store.”

“That’s fine.  I didn’t want you right now anyway.” You can hear the laughter in his voice egging you on.

Brushing your teeth, you can imagine the vision behind the curtain…

Your man, six feet of solid muscle.  He’s in training mode again and the extra work shows.  It’s harder now that he’s older, but he loves the additional challenge.  Leaning into the counter, you close your eyes.  You see his smile, still so youthful and easy going, lighting up his deep blue eyes. The laugh lines are deeper now and the beard is more gray than he likes… The strong arms that hold you every night still look just as good as they did when you first really saw him on the big screen.  You knew “Cap” before, but for you it was the scene when he hurt his arm- he was complaining about it just yesterday, like an old war injury- keeping the helicopter from leaving.  That scene alone took you back to the theater three times and had you calling your agent.  “Get me in a movie with Chris Evans!”

Best decision you ever made…

Your mind jumps from sexy thoughts and memories to the list for the day.  Bank, groceries, oil change, gym… Princess needs new ballet tights; the boys need soccer cleats… Dog food.  Don’t forget dog food.  Breaking your reverie, you sigh deeply.

In the mirror covered with droplets of condensation you admire your own appearance.  You don’t get the roles you were once offered, but soccer mom is a better title than Hollywood starlet any day.  Your laugh lines are deeper too, that’s the one thing never lacking in the Evans household- laughter. You pull tight at the skin around your eyes, shaking your head.  Nature dictates aging, and you aren’t about to mess with that process.  You decide not to count any additional gray hairs of your own today.  You turn sideways rising up on your tiptoes.  Ass is still in fine shape, and boobs are still perky.  Several hours at the gym each week helps keep you happy and fit.  Still, there was a time when you would have entered the room and Chris would have pulled you into the shower with him, clothed or not…

You rinse off your brush and put it back in the cup.  Moving to exit the room, you stop in your tracks.  Your schedule today is one you set.  You don’t have any place to be.  You don’t have anyone else to answer to.  The kids are with family for the weekend.  You take a deep breath and remind yourself to relax because there will be times you need the memory of this moment just to make it through to the next one.

You step over to the shower and pull the curtain back.  The look of surprise on Chris’s face makes you happy for this moment of spontaneity.  There just never seems to be enough time for moments like these…  You bite your lip as you take him all in, looking even better than the vision in your mind, even after all these years together.  “I’m almost finished. Whatdya doin’, Mrs. Evans?”

Wordlessly you bend slightly and lean forward, not using your hands, pulling him, soft and limp, into your mouth.

“Ah, fuck,” he whispers.  “Hi.”

You raise your loving eyes to look up at him, a smile reflected there as you tend to your wishes.  You like taking him in while he is still soft, able to take in more at once.  For a few minutes you simply roll him around in your mouth with your tongue, pulling in as much of him as you can, knowing the task becomes more difficult for you when he is fully erect and hard.  You enjoy the power you have over him now as he becomes aroused at your touch.  As he begins to stiffen, you lower to your knees in your own form of worship, bracing one hand on the edge of the tub.  You close your eyes as random sprays of water hit you in the face.  Chris shifts slightly to block the water and rests his knee on the edge of the tub to be closer to you. The edge of your mouth releases from his girth, your lips forming a smile when you realize he is holding his breath.

You reach up and run your hand through the trail covering his belly.  You slide off with a pop and whisper, “Breathe, baby.”

He chuckles and runs his hand across your cheek as you finally take him into your hand.  He takes a deep breath and lets it out as a hiss. “So good to me,” his words choke out.

You guide his hard cock back to your accepting mouth.  His excitement causes him to truly be too much for you, but you continue to take as much as you can, stretching around him.  Sliding on and off his cock, he clenches his fists at his sides.  You hum your approval communicating for him to wind his fingers in your hair, pushing a little further with each advance.  Your throat opens and he pushes as far as he knows you can handle.  Your hand grasps his shaft turning and pulling, hitting your lips with each of his thrusts.  Getting sloppy, your mouth legitimately waters for him.  His quiet moans reach to your core, building an awareness of your own sudden need for more.

Enjoying yourself, knowing he is melting as you kneel before him, you know there is no rush.  Shifting on your knees you balance your weight evenly and use your other hand to massage his thigh.  The tight muscles roll under the pressure of your hands and you knead with all your strength.  Your motions carry up his leg, applying pressure at the base of his shaft.  With one hand in your hair, his other hand gently slides along your jawline, moving to tug at your lip, to feel himself entering your pretty hole every time he forces inside.  Your breathing is heightened at the desire this builds in you.  Your grip becomes tighter and you take more of his length to the back of your throat, nearing your gagging point.  His body begins to tighten but you change tactics, deciding you will take advantage of a lazy Saturday morning.  Slowing your progression, you pull off to a stop.

“Evil woman,” he chuckles tugging at your hair.  “I should have known.”

You wipe your saliva with the back of your hand and rise with a smile.  “Meet me in the bedroom,” you tease, removing your soaked t-shirt as you exit the steam filled room.

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom




By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris x Reader

Chris meets a friend at the theatre in Phoenix for the surprise screening of Civil War

Warnings: Fluff, NSFW, fingering, exhibitionism, orgasm denial

Word Count: 1908

Author Note: I was not there, I do not know anyone who was there. If this is your Insta photo, congrats to you! NO SPOILERS HERE

“How can you go to the movies and not get popcorn?”

You know that voice.  That voice calls you on the phone three times a day and haunts your dreams.  You smile to yourself but don’t look at him, not wanting to draw attention to the two of you in the amped up theater.  Your hometown was miraculously chosen for the first surprise screening of “Captain America: Civil War.”  Not such a miracle now that he slides in next to you in the dark room, lifting the arm rest to snuggle you close.

“So, Phoenix, huh?” you whisper, leaning around to kiss his full lips illuminated by the action on the screen.  “You didn’t have anything to do with this, did you?”

“Not a thing! Honest!” he says, keeping his voice low.  “My mother doesn’t even know where I am right now,” he chuckles.  “But I was texting you when they finally told us, which is why, since you had a rough week, I suggested you go see a movie.”

“SSHHH!!” comes a voice from behind them.

You lean in close to whisper in his ear, purposely blowing your warm breath across his skin. “You picked me out in the crowd pretty quick…. I got your picture.  And what would you have done if I wasn’t here?”

Chris winds his fingers in your hair, pulling you close for another kiss.  “You’re the prettiest girl in the room.”  You can taste the lingering drink he obviously had earlier and the salt from the popcorn.  As you pull back from the kiss, the movement on the big screen catches your attention for a moment.  You lick the drop of butter from his lip, savoring it as if you’d eaten the kernels yourself.  You can feel his eyes watching you as you watch the movie and he smiles when you gasp at the action, chuckling when you whisper “Shit!” along with half the theater.  You both chuckle when someone else in the audience hollers out, “Ah, hell no!”

Chris shoves more popcorn in his mouth, reaching to pop a few pieces in yours as well.  “Didn’t even consider it; you always do what I ask,” he says slyly.

“Oh honey,” you pat his thigh, “you just think I do.”

The next corn kernels are tossed at you, hitting you in the face, and a few land down your shirt.  “Here, let me get those for you,” he leers in the dark.  Leaning your head back in the seat, you bite back your laughter as he slowly snakes his strong hand down your neck, reaching down your v-neck t-shirt to retrieve the lost popcorn. 

He slowly pulls it from your cleavage and you watch him from the corner of your eye, trying to keep some focus on the movie.  He flicks the offending pieces on the floor and reaches back in to make sure he removed it all. Confident the golden popped snack is out of the way; he slides his fingers under the lacy edge of your bra.  You suck in your breath between your teeth, pulling your attention from the images of Bucky kicking everyone’s ass to scan the theater to make sure no one is watching the two of you.  Your focus lands on Chris who is watching you intently.

“Nice costume change,” you giggle as he works his hand over your full breast.  Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes, looking down at the Arizona Cardinals hoodie he is currently wearing.  You quickly remove the Cardinals ball cap and return it to his head, backwards so you don’t keep hitting the bill when you lean to whisper to him.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” he leans to whisper in your ear.  “I didn’t know where we were going, and when I told my handler you were here, she wouldn’t let me back in the theatre in the clothes I had on.  Said someone would recognize me…  She didn’t know about us, so this was her revenge when she ran to the store across the street to get me something to wear.”

He distracts you from your laughter by pinching your nipple and you bite back a vocal response, instead lifting your body up into his hand, letting him know you missed him and need him.

“Sit back and enjoy the movie, babe. You’re in safe hands,” he murmurs into your neck, nuzzling the soft spot behind your ear with his nose.  Fortunately, the sinful sound you make is hidden from others by an explosion on the screen.  His strong hand forms a firm grip supporting your heavy breast. He rolls the sensitive bud between his fingers while he squeezes and massages your flesh. 

Goosebumps collect on your arm in the cold air of the theater and you know he is watching you.  Your tongue darts out and moistens your lips.  A tingle runs up your spine and your other breast aches, wanting to be manhandled by this man, this god among men.  Unfortunately, your anguish can’t be relieved due to the constraints of the theatre seats.  He’ll just have to bestow attention to the other breast later.

As the drama unfolds in front of you in its’ cinematic glory you find your thoughts torn between what Chris is doing to you, and how Steve Rogers on the big screen makes you feel.  Halfway through the movie, you mutter, “Why did you do this to me? I am not emotionally ready!”

He moves in front of you so all you can see his face.  You can see he is tired from a long week of press and when he closes his eyes you brush your fingertips across his long lashes. His hand slides down your tummy and over your covered mound.  “God, I love yoga pants,” he whispers as he feels your heat emanating through the fabric. He pushes against you intently, but the clothing has no give. He trickles his fingers back up to the waistband of your bands, teasing your belly button for a moment before sliding his hand between your soft skin and the offending material.

“Are you trying to distract me?” you ask in hushed tones, unable to see the screen.

He nods his head yes.  “You won’t wike this part. I’m protecting your fragile heart,” he offers as his finger skims across your wet slit.  He hums his approval quietly as you close your eyes, not even bothering to try to focus on the movie any more. He lazily runs his fingers up and down teasing your lips, causing a familiar ache.  You smile, hoping he can stay with you tonight to ease the pain instead of another night of phone sex.  You touch your forehead to his, struggling to catch your breath as he dips into your sweet well. The quiet pleasurable noise he makes at finding you wet rings in your ears as you block out the sound of the story unfolding on the screen.  You focus on his touch and try to match your breath to his.

He slides his finger in and out slowly, pushing a little deeper each time. You need him so badly, desire to be held in his arms and to be loved all night long.  Although you are nowhere near the edge, you can feel your walls constrict around him, pulsing and tightening with each gentle manipulation.  “Not here, honey,” he concedes slowly pulling his fingers out, resting his palm over your mound, still throbbing with need.  He smiles at the look of disappointment on your face. “You’d like it in public? Maybe another place then…” He pulls his hand out slowly, readjusting the hem of your shirt, rubbing tender circles over your toned belly.

“No, I would not like it in public,” you quietly hiss.  You discretely hand him a napkin, giggling when he takes a quick lick of your juice from his fingers as he turns back to his seat properly.  You bite your lip, turned on by his predatory behavior.  The movement draws his attention away from your lustful eyes to your full mouth, begging to be used. He kisses your lips softly, teasing you with his tongue, feeling his beard bristle against your upper lip.  In hot breath he whispers, “I have to get out of here before someone sees me… I don’t fly back til the morning… Keys to your car?”

Fishing them out of your purse, you hand them to him. “You can’t stay and watch it with me?” quietly running your nose along his neck.

He shivers at your touch, obviously turned on just as much as you are.  He shakes his head no, “I’ve already stayed too long.  I’ll see you in a bit.”  He kisses the top of your head, leaving you in heat to watch the rest of the movie alone.

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom


Tweet me 4 12 2016


an Emery&Chris story

by avenger-nerd-mom

Emery stays behind the scenes while Chris works on the press tour; she spends the afternoon with Anthony Mackie

Warnings: FLUFF, Language

AUTHOR’S NOTE: All images in this story are self-created for the purposes of the fan-fiction story.

Word Count: 1069

“Hey, pretty girl!  What are you doing?” Anthony Mackie sweeps into the room and flops down on the couch next to Emery.

Emery pushes her reading glasses on top of her head.  “Don’t tell Chris.  I’m grading papers,” she laughs.  “He made me promise no school work this week, but I can’t leave my Honors College Prep class out to dry like that.  The sub has been scanning in their work and emailing it to me. One of the assistants around here was able to print them out for me.”

Anthony leans on her shoulder, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a pack of gum.  He offers her a piece and she gladly takes it.  “Oh, I’m in your personal space. Think he’ll punch me?”

Emery scowls at her second favorite Marvel man.  “Anthony, that’s not fuckin’ funny.  I just… UGH. He’s gonna have to get over that.  We had a really long talk yesterday.  The jealousy never came up, but I think since some other things were put to rest, maybe he’ll chill a bit.”

Anthony watches the red head perch the glasses back on her nose.  He likes the funny little woman and enjoys getting to learn more about her.  She is a true Southern woman, and Chris is going to have to learn how to deal with her.  He quietly asks, “Did you two talk about the wedding?  That was really giving him a stick up his ass.”

Emery chuckles at the expression.  “He told you it was bugging him?”  Emery asks, surprised.  Her phone starts to vibrate and she leans forward to reach it from the table, knocking some papers off her lap.

“Yea, we talked about it,” Anthony says, giving no more details.  “You’re phone is blowin’ up, girl! What’s goin’ on?”

Anthony shifts on the couch and leans against her, pushing on her.  Emery unlocks her phone and looks at her home screen.  Her face turns to a quizzical expression.  “Anthony?” she inquires. “What are we doing here?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m trying to snuggle next to a pretty girl and take a nap.  Press stuff is tiring.”

“No, I mean here in this building?  My students are sending me messages telling me I need to tweet a certain hashtag?”

“Aren’t they in school?” he chuckles.

“Yea, that’s beside the point… What are they talking about?”

Anthony turns his head from her shoulder to look up at her sweet face and explains the twitter event going on and how they’ve been posting and recording messages for a better part of the day.  “Are you kidding me?  How come nobody told me? That’s awesome!  I wanna send one!”  He laughs at the excitement in her green eyes and peers over her shoulder as she logs in on her phone.

“Cap’sQueen?  That’s your username?” he chuckles.

emery twitter feed

“Fangirl first, fiancé second,” she shrugs her shoulders.  “I’ve had that username forever.  No point in changing it now… I think I’ve adored Chris since Nanny Diaries, but it was that damn Under Armor shirt and stealing the truck in Winter Soldier that really did it,” she chuckles.

“Auto theft? This turns you on? The more I learn about you, the more I realize there is more to you than red hair and killer karaoke skills,” Anthony teases referring to their weekend in New Orleans.

Giggling, Emery explains.  “I just loved when he told Nat to get her feet off the dash!  I’m so short, I always ride like that in a car.  And Steve Rogers behind the wheel of that pick-up truck? That was fuckin’ hot!”

“True GRITS are you?” Anthony laughs, his voice getting sleepy.

“Damn right, you know it. Girl Raised in the South and damn proud… Half the time that Yankee I fell in love with has no idea what I’m talking about, much less what I’m saying if my accent really kicks in.”

“Oh, my God, that’s the best,” Anthony replies.  “Now, can you please shush up, so I can take a nap.  You’re all soft and girly, and you smell nice.  I wanna nap here.”

“You are a flirt!”

“And you like it! And as long as Captain Little Ass doesn’t threaten to punch me, I’m gonna keep doin’ it to; you’re fun!”

“Mackie, shut up and sleep.  If they come looking for you, I’ll hide you under a pile of math papers.”

Within minutes the handsome man is quietly snoring and she returns to her papers.  She takes photos of errors students made and texts the student directly with tips for solving the problems correctly.  She forgets about the tweeting event until her phone begins to blow up again.

Not wanting to wake Anthony, she bites her tongue to keep from laughing at the image on her screen.  She plays it again and again, thinking about the love of her life and his tendency to profess his love in grand ways.

emery twitter line up

In a slight daze, she eventually turns her attention back to her work.  An assistant comes to check on her, bringing a fresh soda and a slice of pizza.  The young woman laughs at the image of Mackie passed out from exhaustion next to Emery on the couch.  She straightens up the area and picks up a few lose papers that had fallen under the couch.  “Miss Emery, how do you do it?  You said earlier you’ve been doing the press tour with them since Friday night.  I’ve only worked with them today.  I’m as exhausted as he is,” she hitches her thumb towards Mackie.

Emery laughs.  “I think I’ve been training for this moment my whole life and didn’t even know it.  But I teach high school.  I think I can handle Evans, Mackie and Renner.  And Paul just cracked me up yesterday.  Getting to know him will be fun.” She laughs as another image pops up in her twitter feed.  “It’s these two that might give me trouble,” she says as she shows the young assistant her second tweet. “They just like to stir it up.”

emery twitter line robert

“Sorry, Robert,” she says out loud to no one in particular. “Not even the promise of French fries would tear me away from #Team Cap!”  She giggles before settling back in to work, knowing it will be time to get ready for the Kimmel event soon enough.

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom


confessions 4 11 16


An Emery&Chris story

By avenger-nerd-mom

The morning after their first fight, Chris and Emery have a lot of things to talk about

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, references to Spirituality, anxiety

Word count 3340

Please read Fire and Ice first…

“Shit,” Chris mumbles when he rolls onto his back and realizes Emery isn’t by his side.  He hits the side of the bed where she should be laying with a closed fist, sighing deeply.  He brings his fist back to his chest and lets it land with a thump. “Damn, I fucked up,” he admits out loud.  He lays there with his thoughts, trying to wake up.  Sitting up, he rubs at his face, roughly wiping the sleep from his eyes.  The brawny actor swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands up slowly feeling a bit of last night’s booze hitting his head.

He grabs the jeans off the chair and tugs them on over his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs.  Grabbing a t-shirt from the drawer, he smiles when he sees it’s from her younger brother’s high school football team.  It’s nice that little parts of their separate lives are slowly bleeding into one another and their households are slowly becoming one.  Two months ago on Emery’s first visit to his LA home, she wouldn’t have ventured out of his room early in the morning, but he’s happy now she feels more at home here.  She still doesn’t like LA, but she doesn’t have to; he doesn’t plan to have her live here with him.  LA will be for work and transitions only.  That’s his thought anyway, if he could get her to talk about some of their future plans.

Chris is disappointed Emery isn’t in the sitting room where she often grades papers on her visits.  A sickening dread fills his stomach.  He could call out to her, but he knows she hates that.  Instead of searching the whole house he decides coffee is needed first.  He shuffles down the stairs and checks in different rooms as he makes his way to the back of the house. He rounds the corner into the bright open kitchen and finds her sitting at the table.  He pauses for a moment to admire her beauty and smiles at the way she folds her feet up under her to sit when she reads.  “Hey, short stuff, you’re up early,” he says cheerfully trying to start the morning off right.

“No,” she shakes her head, not looking up from her book.  “If you’re still trying nicknames, don’t add that one to the list.  Coffee is already in your travel cup.  And it’s not that early.”  Her tone still has a slight edge to it, but she takes a deep breath and tries to lighten herself.  “Want the other half of my bagel?”  She pushes the plate towards Chris, but he shakes his head.  He reaches into the cabinet for a cereal bowl and turns behind him to the cabinet to pull out a box of Honey Bunches of Oats.  “No almonds?” She asks, smiling.

He opens the fridge for the milk.  “They were out,” he mumbles.  “Thanks for fixing my coffee.”

Looking at her man, Emery’s smile deepens.  “Damn, you are heaven,” she says quietly, admiring the trail that disappears down in the waistband of his jeans.  He scratches his side, pulling her attention to the Bardsley tattoo.  She gazes over his torso, her eye pulling to the vein in his left arm and traveling up to his beautiful face.  When her eyes greet his, he winks at her, wiggling his eyebrow.  She sticks out her tongue at him when he picks up the bowl of cereal to eat.

“Not gonna tell me to wear a shirt in the kitchen?” he teases, shoveling a big spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“It’s your house.  You can keep your gross man habits.  Just don’t fix me any food,” she laughs, returning her attention back to her reading.

Leaning against the kitchen island, Chris crosses his feet at his ankles and puts his weight against the counter.  He watches Emery deep in thought and wishes he really could read what goes on in the brilliant mind of hers.  The sun shines in the room and highlights the tiny hairs on her arms and adds a glow to her halo of red hair.  “Whatchya reading?” he asks, his mouth still full of food.

She blushes slightly and lifts up her dog-eared book, holding it so he can see it.  “The Bible?” Chris pauses momentarily suddenly feeling like a heathen but he can’t bite back his first thought.  “Gonna get me to confess all my sins this morning?”

Emery guffaws and her eyes glass over for a brief moment, as though she is picturing something in her mind.  “Oh, honey, we don’t have time for all of that!  Aren’t we meeting the Downeys for brunch before the press conference?”

He releases a gut busting laugh.  “How many sins do you think I have?”

“Babe, you wanna touch this book and see if your hands burn?” she laughs taking a sip of her coffee.  She looks down to her book and gently runs her hands over the thin pages.  “I just felt like I needed a little focus…,” she says reflectively.   “It is today we meet them, right?”

“Yeah, in like two hours.  Nothing fancy.  I think Scarlett and her husband are meeting us too,” he responds, rinsing out his bowl and placing it in the dishwasher.  He makes a big production out of it so she can see he didn’t leave it in the sink this time.

Giggling, Emery claps her hands praising him like she would for her young nephew.  “So… You and Scarlett?” she shyly asks.

Hearing the catch in her voice, Chris stops wiping down the counter and turns to look at her.  “Ah.  So this IS a confession of my sins,” he laughs, trying to keep things light.  Emery meant what she said the night before.  She hasn’t asked him about his past unless it truly pertains to her or their relationship.  Being a fan, she knows the stories of his playboy ways, but some of that is just stories.

“So you admit you and Scarlett sinned?” Emery rubs her temples, not sure if she really wants an answer to this question.

Chris wipes his hands on a clean dishtowel.  He pulls on his t-shirt, picking up the coffee mug and moving to sit next to her at the table.  “Scarlett and I have been friends for a long time.”  He pauses and Emery catches a sadness in his voice.  “We were too different, but still too much alike…  We just didn’t… work.  We were never really a couple, and I’ll admit, it wasn’t from a lack of trying on both our parts at different times over the years.” Emery watches as different memories seem to pass through his mind while he fidgets with the mug in his hands.  He raises his eyes to look at her and smiles. “I’m glad Scar and I can still be friends and that we have opportunities to work together.  She’s an amazing person…  She kinda ranks right up there with Tara for me.”

Emery shakes her head.  “You know; your pedestal of perfect women is getting a bit crowded.”

Caressing her cheek, Chris laughs at her statement.  “Sweetheart, it’s a two-tiered pedestal, and you’re the only one at the very top.”

Emery feels the warmth of his large hand on her face.  An image flashes in her mind and she can’t suppress her giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Chris asks, confused.

Emery holds up her hand as the laughter runs its course, “Oh my god,” she breaths out trying to gain control.  “Oh my god, I just had this little cartoon image of me standing up there and your mom trying to climb up and share the space with me.”

Chris looks hurt when she doubles over in laughter again.  “That’s not fair! My mom loves you!”

“Chris!  I know, but you realize it’s hard for her to come to terms that she’s not number one anymore.”

Chris thinks for a few moments and nods his agreement.  Taking her tiny hand in his he runs his thumb over her engagement ring, twisting the band and replies, “I’m sure it’s tough for her, but you’re my number one girl…  And Mom knows that; that’s just the way it is from now on.”  He pauses and takes a deep breath.  Time to tackle the elephant in the room.  “We’ve got a bit of time left before we have to drive down into the valley.  Do you want to talk about Mi-“ seeing the murderous look on her face, he slightly changes tactics. “-me at the dog park?”

Emery glares at him.  She looks down at the cover of her Bible closing her eyes and saying a silent prayer.  “I will never want to talk about… that.  We will.  Some day.  But not today…  I do think there’s a mistake we’ve made in our relationship though. And I’m to-“

“Mistake?”  Chris pulls his hand away.  “What do you mean a ‘mistake?’”  Chris’s heart begins to race and his thoughts can’t be controlled.  “Is that why you don’t wanna talk about getting married?  You think we made a mistake? You don’t wanna get married?”

“Christopher! Stop!  What are you talking about?! Of course I want to get married, you fool, I love you!  Why would you even ask that?” Emery’s voice rises, not really sure what’s happening and struggling to keep both their anxiety levels in check.  She reaches for his hand, pulling it back to her, caressing his palm gently.

Chris takes a few deep calming breaths in through his nose and with his other hand, he rubs at the back of his neck. His voice is strained and quiet and his fear is on display.  “Why don’t you want to talk about anything wedding related?  You don’t want to look at a calendar or talk about locations or see about dresses…  Are you having second thoughts?”  He hates feeling so vulnerable, but only Emery can make his world right again.  He needs to know what she is thinking.

Emery copies his breathing and bites the inside of her cheek.  She lifts his hand to her mouth and kisses his palm.  “Oh, silly boy!  Of course not!  I thought it was obvious!  Neither of us need the stress of planning a wedding on top of the Marvel press mania.  You’re going to be halfway around the world for the next month, I have state tests…  I just want to enjoy being engaged to the man I love!  One step at a time.”

“Is that really all it is?  Then what did you mean just now, that we made a mistake?”  Chris can’t hide his insecurities, which may have been an even bigger elephant in the room he hadn’t noticed before.

“I promise, that’s all it is.”  Emery stands from her chair and moves to sit in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and gently kissing his ripe red lips.  “I love you till the end of the line.  You can’t get rid of me.  I was just thinking of you.  Believe me, I have wedding thoughts!  Got a whole secret board on Pinterest full of ideas!  Ilaria is already looking for dresses styled like one I liked, and we can’t set a date yet because we don’t really have your filming schedule down for next fall.  But there’s really no rush…”

“Ilaria’s already looking for a dress?”  Chris smiles, wondering when this little power house went behind his back to contact his personal fashion goddess/miracle worker.

Emery bites her lip to hide a shy smile.  “We may have talked about styles once or twice.  I found a dress months ago I liked,” she teases.

“Months ago?  I just asked you like three weeks ago.”  Chris looks at her puzzled.  Winking at him, Emery just shrugs her shoulders.  “You found a dress already?  When did you talk to Ilaria?”

Emery drapes one hand down Chris’s arm, feeling his bicep before placing it to rest on the crook of his elbow, playing with the sleeve of his t-shirt.  “My aren’t you full of questions today!  I had my suspicions the question would come eventually, so when I would see something I liked, I made a note of it.  I found a dress I really loved and I talked to Ilaria last week with some ideas.  She’s on it!  She’s amazing!”

Chris smiles at the excitement on her face.  “Do I get to see it?” he asks quietly, nuzzling his nose against her neck.

“NO! It’s bad luck!”

“Fine,” he chuckles knowing she’s going to be very picky about certain traditions, but create her own to fit her strong will.  “So we can check the dress of the list of things to find.  And you know money is no object.  Do not even THINK about a budget.  I am only doing this ONCE in my life and I want to give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of, do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir, Captain, sir,” she chuckles, giving him a salute.  “No budget. Got it.”

“And why do you say there is no rush?”

“Ok.  So close your eyes.  Picture this.”  With his eyes closed and his lashes dark against his pale cheeks, Emery gently kisses his eyelids.  “Snow. Winter. Boston.” The spirited red head is so thrilled with this revelation she practically bounces in his lap.

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying?”  He can’t believe what she’s saying.  She wants to get married in Boston. “Baby, you’ve seen snow maybe four times in your life, my sweet little Georgia peach. Do you have any idea how cold that could be, or how it could make travel difficult for people?”

Emery makes a face.  “Not ‘Georgia peach’ either.  I don’t care.  I’ll take those risks.  Snow.  Lots of it!  White, white lights, beautiful… But NOT Christmas; just a winter wedding.”

“I thought weddings were usually in the woman’s hometown?” He’s already starting to picture it in his mind, thinking of the perfect place back in Boston.

“Fuck etiquette.  I want snow. Snow means Boston.  Boston means home.  We’ll get married in your hometown, with all our friends and family and it will be perfect and amazing and-“

“-beautiful,” he interrupts, cutting her off with a kiss.  He takes both hands and places them on the sides of her tiny face, his fingers running into her braid.  His lips push against hers while his tongue teases her to let him in.  She opens her mouth and makes space, tangling her tongue with his, tasting of coffee and sugar.  He captures the tiny whine she makes and pulls back, gently tugging her lower lip between his teeth.  “You are beautiful… It sounds beautiful.  I can see it… Snow, Winter, Boston.  If that’s what you want, it’s yours.”

He dips his forehead to press against hers.  He takes another deep breath to tackle the last unknown of the morning.  “What mistake?” he asks quietly.  “You said you think we made a mistake?”

Emery tilts her head to kiss the tip of his nose.  “Relax, Evans.  Maybe mistake wasn’t the right word…  Well?  I don’t know… But it just became apparent to me last night that we’ve only been out in public a few times together…”  She plays with the hair at the back of his neck, still wishing he had let her trim it before the press started.  She misses the “Gifted” hair he had when they first met.  “All our dates were with your family or mine, hanging out at my house or driving around Savannah late at night so no one would spot us together.  We haven’t really been around other people, together.  Our communication skills kinda suck.  And if you ever try to physically intimidate me again, ever, I will make sure you regret it.”  She tugs his hair and he winces.

“I believe you,” he relents through gritted teeth acting as if the pain is unbearable.  “Well, if that’s our mistake, that’s on me.  I just did it to protect you.  Hollywood is no place for a woman like you.  I don’t want your life to change just because mine is crazy.”

“And I appreciate that.  And I don’t think it really has all that much.  I mean, not every math teacher gets to rub elbows with Marvel elite or attend back stage parties at the MTV Movie Awards or get whisked away in a limo after the Oscars.  But I think I’m doing all right, don’t you?”

“Everywhere we have been together, kitten, people fall in love with you,” Chris smiles, rubbing his thumb across her freckles.  “You’re charming and funny and smart.  Even with your own anxiety, I think your teacher training keeps you relaxed.  And you manage to keep really calm. I gotta tell ya, sometimes, I find that damn infuriating.”

Emery tilts her head from side to side.  “Kitten?  I might be able to live with that one…  Listen, we both can’t fly off the handle at the same time.  You and your Italian, Boston boy attitude and my fiery red hair might clash from time to time.  And our anxiety?  We just have to make sure it’s only one meltdown at a time.”  She holds his face in her hands and scratches at his beard.  “Look at the time, don’t we need to get ready to go?”

Chris turns to check the clock on the stove.   He shakes his head negatively.  “It’s a jeans and t-shirt place.  We’re both fine.  There probably will be paparazzi.  Won’t Parker get a kick out of seeing me in his school football shirt?”

Emery smiles when she thinks about how elated Parker would be if Chris, his hero, was photographed in public in his team shirt.  “Honey, I’m in a Peggy Carter t-shirt.  Isn’t that a little weird?” Emery asks, tugging on the hair tie and pulling the braid from her hair, letting it fall in loose red waves around her shoulders.

“Steve Rogers approves,” he chuckles.  “We got time for one other thing I need to say.”  He pauses and scratches his beard against his bottom lip.  She can feel his heart rate starting to rise under her hands that she placed against his chest.  He drops his eyes and she looks to his beautiful lashes, seeing a confessionary pose. “I need you to know a lot changed for me after that weekend I… I walked the dogs.  That’s when I really decided to make some lasting changes in my life.  A photo doesn’t tell a true story.  Just what’s captured in that moment…  You could have easily said ‘fuck it’ and let me drift out of your life.”  Chris looks up at Emery and all the unsaid words are written in the tender look of love he gifts to her.  His voice softens and chokes out his final confession for the morning, “I love you, Emery Thomas.  You are my world.   Thank you for taking a chance on me.  I don’t want you to ever regret that, or think it’s a mistake.”

The press tour already has him tied in knots and it’s only been two days.  She’s only with him till the end of the week, but she will do everything in her power to keep him calm and relaxed. She whispers quietly to him, “Christopher Robert Evans, I will never regret you. I promise, you are the best thing I ever found on the internet.”

Emery leans in close and gently brushes her lips slowly across his before moving in for a full, love affirming kiss.   Her fingertips lightly grace the sides of his face infusing him with her strength and affection.  Confidently she tells him, “I’m with you till the end of the line.  You are my joy, my prince.  I love you too.”

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom


Pt 5 Chaperones


Pt 5 “Student Teacher”

by avenger-nerd-mom

AU Chris Evans finishes his term as a student teacher in the science classroom with Alexis Warner as his mentor.  Together they have to chaperone the end of the year dance.

Warnings: NSFW, language, adult situations, oral sex, fingering, penetration

Word Count 3620

Chris leans against the stage, chatting with students walking by.  He compliments the girls on their dresses and tells the boys how sharp they look in their suits and ties. The last day for the students has culminated with a celebratory formal for the eighth grade students and everyone looks their best. His eyes scan the room biting back his laughter at the principal dancing with his wife and the Student Council president challenging one of the English teachers to a dance off competition.

His eyes finally land on the vision he has been searching for, Miss Alexis Warner, his mentor and… friend.

Miss Susie, one the school cooks, hands him a piece of cake.  “Mr. Evans, you make this place look good!” the older woman giggles.  “I sure am going to miss seeing your handsome face at lunch during meetings next week.”

He takes a bite of the decadent chocolate cake and chuckles, “Oh, Miss Susie, I may have to stop by just to get lunch.  Your cooking is too good to pass up!”

His gaze falls back to Alexis as he continues to eat the cake.  “Listen here, young man, let me tell you, that’s another sweet thing that’s too good to pass up!  I see the way you look at her; that you bring her coffee every day.  Come Monday morning, you’re not her student teacher any more.  As the world’s leading authority on waiting too long, DON’T.”  Chris catches her wistful grimace as she looks to Mr.Larry, the custodian, dancing with his new bride.  Chris’s heart breaks for her, seeing the softer side to the hardened woman he has grown to care for during his time at the school.  “It wouldn’t kill you to ask her to dance.”

The plump woman gives him an extra squeeze when she hugs him good-bye. Chris chuckles as he watches her walk away, following his eyes across the gym floor to Alexis.  She and a group of girls from class are dancing and laughing to the nauseating beat of a boy band song.  The beguiling science teacher smiles when she looks up to see him watching her.

She looks stunning in her red dress, her dark hair piled on her head.  The skirt swirls around her as she dances and even from far away he can see the laughter in her eyes.  Chris crosses the room to dispose of his trash, holding back his own laughter when he sees her bite her lip instinctively as he licks some frosting from his thumb.

As if on cue, the music turns slow and the girls giggle when Chris enters their circle, asking their favorite teacher to dance.  The preteens move away and Chris blushes when he hears one young lady comment under her breath about the appearance of his ass.

“Are you blushing?” Alexis teases.  “She’s not wrong; it really is nice!”

“Thirteen-year-old girls should not be looking at my ass,” Chris comments, pulling her in close, placing his hand on the small of her back and lightly holding her warm hand in his larger one.

“Then don’t always stand with your hands in your pockets,” she giggles.  “It pulls them too tight.  Damn, I think maybe I’ll miss that most… There, I said it. I liked having you in my classroom, Mr. Evans. It was nice getting to work with you.  Blah, blah, blah.  Happy now?”

He spins her in time to the music throwing his head back in laughter.  “You make me happy,” he growls quietly in her ear, pleased to make her blush.  “I’m glad you’re wearing the earrings.  I like how they match the sparkle in your eyes.”

Alexis murmurs her thanks, sighing happily and trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

Students circle around them, many mimicking the traditional dance style Chris and Alexis are modeling.

“You look so beautiful,” she whispers to him, afraid to meet his gaze.  She doesn’t want to feel for him the way she does.  He meets the needs she has for now.  She doesn’t want another man in her life, just one in her bed.  But she has to admit, he is slowly wearing down her defenses.  His cock, warm and stiff, against her thigh at the moment isn’t helping her wandering thoughts.

As the music winds down, switching to a faster tempo, he pulls her tight for a brief moment, whispering into her ear, “Meet me in the classroom in ten minutes.” He sees her nod and catches the flash in her eyes.

She returns to her look-out duty, shuffling kids out of the hallway and back to the dance floor, bribing the boys to eat the rest of the cake.  When the computer teacher returns to the dark corner as well, Alexis excuses herself from her post, saying that she is needed to help pack up the left-over food for Monday’s teacher lunch.

In the hallway, when she runs into the home ec teacher, actually needing her help with packing up the food. Alexis gives her the excuse that she can’t because she is supposed to help at the photo booth in the Commons. She bypasses anyone else who might need her assistance and heads towards the science hallway.

When she reaches the darkened tunnel, she sees a light glowing from one of the other classrooms.  Her heels clack down the hall, and the dark hallway hides her smile as Chris steps out from the room.  He’s removed his dress coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves, and his movie star good looks take her breath away. He looks at the time on his phone and chuckles.  “I was hoping you’d be late.”

“Oh, no Mr. Evans, I always try to be punctual when I’m heading to class,” she teases.  “I wouldn’t want to be in any trouble.”

“No, no you wouldn’t,” he growls as he pulls her into the empty classroom.  He closes the door behind them, flipping the lock quickly.  His lips claim hers in a series of fierce kisses as he spins her and waltzes her over to the empty desk.  When the back of her legs hit the desk, he picks her up and sets her down.

He reaches under the layers of her skirt to find she is wearing panties.

She had been in trouble earlier in the week, arguing with him about his request that she not wear underwear this evening.  As he drops to inspect the silk covering her wet pussy, he hides his smile under her dress.  He knew she’d wear them, even after promising she wouldn’t.  A middle school dance is no place to be without underwear, but he demanded it of her knowing she’d stand her ground.  She’s such a good girl and loves to please him so he rarely has the opportunity to punish her as part of their play.  Chris delights in creating impossible tasks for her, knowing the punishment is just as much a reward for them both. And he knows she’ll love what he has in mind for tonight.

Alexis brings her legs together, keeping Chris from his explorations under her skirt as his bearded cheeks try to find their way up her legs.  “Yes, darling?” he asks, a clipped tone.

“I can speak freely?” Two taps on her thigh indicate his answer is yes, as he pulls out from under her skirt, resting back on his haunches. He eyes her warily, already knowing what she’s going to say.

“Chris, today was your last day here, but this is where I work; I still have work days next week. I can’t do this.  And it’s creepy. This isn’t even my classroom!”

“You’re right,” Chris says quietly.  “It’s not your room.  It’s mine.”

Alexis stares at him in shock.  “You got the job?”

He can’t hold in his smile, nodding his head yes.  “I have just as much to lose here if we get caught.  We won’t get caught. Now, if you don’t mind I’d like a celebratory fucking.  Why do you think I spent all afternoon helping the old man move his stuff outta this place?  I’m thinking we need to christen this desk.”

“You’re sure the door is locked?” she asks, her voice hitching with excitement.

Looking over his shoulder to be sure and then around the room, he replies, “Door is locked and the shades are drawn.”

Lifting her skirt, she opens her legs for him, and he shifts forward on his knees.  She giggles as he loosens his tie, “That could be used later,” she reminds him.

“Don’t tempt me, woman,” he mutters from under her layered skirts.

Alexis places her hands behind her, leaning back, relaxing as her fitness instructor turned student teacher takes care of her needs.

Working together the last eight weeks has been a long and tortuous adventure as they have kept their affair secret from the people they work with. Chris has done an outstanding job in his role as a science teacher, leading student teams to place at the state level in the science fair. Alexis can’t be happier he will be in his earned place and join part of the science department next fall at James Buchanan Middle School.

Chris slides his hands up her thighs, teasing her with kisses and nibbles, reaching to grasp her satin panties and pulls them off as she raises her ass from the desk.  His bites become rough, and he grinds his beard against her tender skin.  He pockets the soft satin, inhaling her scent as he moves closer.  As his mouth and beard continue their attack on her thighs, inching closer to her sweet spot between her legs he removes her heels, placing her feet on his shoulders.

The new placement causes a shift in her body and his mouth makes contact with her sweet lips before he intended, but he takes advantage of the given situation.  He covers her, his breath hot and warm as his tongue dives in, lapping at her wet center.  The groan he releases in gratification of their contact echoes through the quiet room.  As he licks up one side and down the other, his attention with his strong oral muscle causes Alexis to slowly writhe on the desk.  He reaches from under her dress to hold her in place and she releases a whine, attempting to not struggle against him.

His mouth seeks her pink button swollen and ripe with need.  He begins to suck, pulling from her a stream of steady whimpers.  When he feels she is ready, he plunges two fingers into her hole, filling her as she builds to a climax. Chris continues his sucking motion and slides his fingers in and out, with a little twist each time as she rises to her peak.  When he feels her at the precipice, he releases his mouth from her tender spot and returns to caress her with his tongue as his fingers continue their task.

The combined sensation of his tongue and his fingers bring her to a powerful climax.  She can feel herself stretching her as her walls squeeze around him.  She releases a quiet cry before holding her breath, afraid of making any noise that would draw attention to them.  Balancing with one hand, she grabs the back of his head, guiding him to continue his task.  His hands penetrate her deep, lapping at her cum with his tongue, pushing her closer to a second release.  She can’t handle the intensity and releases his hair from her grip, falling back onto the desk, whining his name.  His thrusts mimic the sex she desires and his gentle fucking gives way to a rougher touch.  She can’t catch her breath when he grips her tender clit in his mouth again, sucking her as though he will never let go.  Her body quakes and she’s unable to keep still under his forceful hand on her stomach. Her second orgasm rips through her body, momentarily blinding her and removing her from an earthly plane.

Chris’s fingers slow their plunder as her breathing returns to a steady normal pace.  He slides her off the stodgy old piece of furniture, standing her in front of him and balances her wobbly legs.

Holding her steady with one hand, with the other he caresses his fingertip along her jaw.  He flicks her dangling earring and reaching behind, to pull her hair from her clip.  Her chestnut colored hair falls in waves around her shoulders, just the way he likes it.  “Lovely dear, you look lovely. You are such a good girl for me, but we aren’t finished.”

Tangling his fingers in her hair, he roughly grasps the back of her neck.  His mouth dives to her plump lips, capturing her sweet whimper.  His hands cover the bodice of her dress, squeezing her breast, pulling down and exposing her nipple.

He dips his mouth lower to tease her with his perfect teeth.  When she begins to pant with need, her rosy bud taut under his caress, he covers her back up and returns his mouth to hers.  He kisses her until he is dizzy himself, ready for more.

His hands roam down her arms, taking her hands in his.  He twirls her in time to the faint music drifting through the air ducts from the ongoing dance in the gymnasium.  He sways with her to the beat, his chest pressed against her back.  Darkly he whispers in her ear, “But you know you also have been a very bad girl.   You wore panties tonight, even after you promised you wouldn’t.”  His tone sends a chill up Alexis’s spine.  She knows she’s in for it and bites her lip to hide her smile.  “Maybe that’s it… Maybe you want to be punished?  This is an interesting change…”

Forcefully, he pushes Alexis over the desk and she willingly bends to cater his wish.  He’s been teasing her with this fantasy for weeks and she would have been disappointed if he had failed to act on it. 

Her pulsing cunt aches, needing him to fill her again, so she leaves her hands placed on the desk in front of her where he left them.

Her knees shake already weakened from her finger fucking.  His calloused hands reaches under her skirt again and they grasp her ass cheeks, firmly pushing and pulling apart at the soft tissue.  She releases a quiet sigh.

“You have a great ass,” his voice thick with emotion and need.  She shivers at the timbre that enters her body and whines her disproval when he removes his hands.   She jolts at the smack of his hand on her rounded bottom, making her wet again and waiting for him.

At the sound of the metal click of his belt buckle, she closes her eyes and imagines the view as he drops his pants.  In her mind she can picture his beauty as he pulls himself out just enough to complete their union.  Her sweet hole involuntarily contracts and her juice pools, waiting for his cock to push into her.

He quickly slides on a condom he produces from his pocket and with no pretense, he enters her from behind with such force the desk skitters across the floor.  Chris pulls out and pushes into her again and again, the rough fabric of his dress slacks scratching the back of her legs.  Alexis savors the feel of his hands gathering her hair and pulling her up to arch her back. As his force accelerates Alexis reaches across the desk gripping her fingers over the edge.  His moans of desperation break her concentration as he whispers words of encouragement to her. Being pushed into the desk, she feels light headed and the sensation creates a need; she wants to be his and wants to be used by him.  Her slick coats his cock making each thrust easier on re-entry.  His sounds begin to match hers and this increases her desire to please him.  Her orgasm builds for another quick release.

Sensing the inevitable conclusion, Chris whispers into the dark, “Come for me, ride my cock.”  His sweet words give her the permission she wants as she pushes back into him, bouncing on his thick member with each push.  The pain she feels with each thrust is delicious and only adds to her pleasure as her man gives her own heart’s desire.  She feels her hip bruising from the beating she takes against the desk and revels in the hurt.  His fingertips dig into the firm flesh as he slides in and out. “Uhf, so fuckin’ tight,” he moans.

She muffles her cries into her shoulder, coming hard and squeezing him with each pull.

Chris doesn’t let up, pushing her harder, with longer strokes, the desk creaking underneath them.  Her tight walls palpitate as she finishes her high and his begins.  As he uses her, his moans and groans quietly fill the room. Her velvet lining flexes around him forcing his member to tighten before its release.  Heat travels through his bones as the sensation builds. His head falls back as he grasps her hips for a final thrust forcing their bodies together for his well-deserved orgasm.

He collapses on top of her, slowly syncing his breath to hers.   “Fuck, that was amazing. Good old- fashioned sturdy desk…  Gotta get one for home,” she giggles.


As the last of the chairs are put away, all signs of a formal dinner and dance are gone and the faculty and staff are once again simply standing in a gym.  Small groups mill around sharing summer plans and making arrangements for the next work week’s carry-in lunches.

News has spread among the group that Chris has been hired as a new faculty member for the following school year and he receives congratulations and well wishes.  Mr. Vishure, the school principal, asks if he has any big plans for the summer.  Chris makes eye contact with Alexis, and answers, “Sir, my only plans now are to convince that one to grab a burger with me since I’m no longer her student.”

Alexis chokes from his bold move and catches the encouraging wink from her friend Rebecca.  She looks at Mr. Vishure, who shrugs his shoulders and she mimics the older gentleman’s movement.  “Sure, why the hell not, I’ll get a burger with you.  I mean, Mrs. Vishure, you chaperoned on this same dance floor twenty years ago, didn’t you?  Maybe this event is lucky.”

“Oh, very lucky,” she answers as she nods.  The women closest to the principal’s wife hide their laughter at her comment under her breath, “Oh, we did more than dance when we chaperoned these things!”

Chris and Alexis both avoid looking at their boss as they exit the gym together holding in their own chuckles until they’re out of the room.  “Congratulations, baby.  I’m glad we’ll be working together,” Alexis says as she takes his arm.

“You know, if I ever became principal, you’d have to work under me.”  Chris he purrs into her ear, pulling her closer to his side.  Seeing the look on her face, he stops her thoughts before she can put them into words.  “I know you… No smart comments from you, or else you don’t get after school detention.”


This concludes the mini-series “Student Teacher.”  A special thanks to @mumbles411 for suggesting the (fantastic) idea of a particular use of a standard piece of furniture.  Happy birthday, lady!

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom


Fire and Ice

fire and ice.png

Fire and Ice

an Emery & Chris story

by avenger-nerd-mom

Actor Chris Evans and fiancé Emery Thomas attend a private screening of Civil War for Marvel friends and family.  The excitement of the night causes tensions to run high for the recently engaged pair.

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations

Word Count 2512

“He doesn’t look too happy,” Mark Ruffalo says to the charming young woman he’s had the pleasure of chatting with for the last fifteen minutes.  He enjoyed meeting her at one of the Oscar after parties and has been challenged by her discussion during the gathering before a private screening of Civil War for Marvel stars and their families.  The easy going gentleman can sense her anxiety and has done his part to help her relax during their talk.

Emery Thomas turns in the direction he’s indicated and she scowls.  She tears up the napkin into little pieces that’s lying on the table in front of her.  She makes a face, but doesn’t say anything.

“Need me to Hulk out and protect you?” Mark asks trying to keep the evening light.

Emery chuckles.  “Nah, that’s really sweet, but I got this.  Red Head Sass is my superpower.”

Actor Chris Evans approaches his fiancé at the table and the heat from his anger rolls off his body.  “Hey, Mark, mind if I steal my girl for a few minutes?”  His tone is icy cold contrasting the heated fire in his eyes.

Mark looks cautiously between the two and Emery calmly asks, “Can it wait?  We’re having a rousing political discussion.”  Having enjoyed their shared and opposing opinions, she offers a smile to Mark.

The furrow between Chris’s eyebrows deepens.  “You hate talking politics.”

Emery flicks the napkin piece from her fingers and responds quietly but with a fire all her own.  “Well, I’d rather discuss politics than stand around watching you have a pissing contest with Sebastian over nothing.”

And that’s my cue to leave,” Mark says rising from the table.  Emery waves good bye as he makes his hasty retreat.

“Chris, you didn’t have to be rude to Mark, I-“

“I wasn’t fuckin’ rude to him,” Chris interrupts Emery before she can finish.  “I just asked to talk to you.  Alone.”

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you if you’re gonna be like this,” Emery says, looking up at Chris, growing angry at his behavior and attitude.  He is holding the back of her chair and leaning over her and if he thinks his posture is going to intimidate her, he needs to think again.

“Like what, Em?” he quietly hisses.

“Jealous and angry over goddamn nothing,” Emery whispers back.  She really doesn’t want the first impression she makes on his friends and co-workers to be one of a bitch, but she’s not going to let him walk all over her, especially when she did nothing wrong except talk to Sebastian Stan.

Chris’s jealous nature has flared once or twice before in the months they have been together, but no one seemed to stir up his insecurities the way Seb does.

“What were you two talking about?”  Chris asks, his voice bitter.

She looks him in the eye and hears it in his voice.  His thick Boston accent proves he’s had one too many beers and with the press junket today not enough to eat to balance it out.  She looks down at her sequined heels, bright blue with Cap’s shield sparkling on them.  “Apparently he has a thing for heels?  We were talking about my shoes.”

Chris bitterly laughs. “You expect me to believe that?”

Emery rolls her eyes.  “You’ve known the guy longer than I have, what do you think?”

Chris looks down at her favorite shoes.  She doesn’t want to talk about wedding plans, doesn’t want to set a date or look at dresses, doesn’t want to do anything he thought she would want to do after getting engaged, but she’s already said she’s wearing those heels down the aisle.    “But seriously, he was all wrapped around you?”

“Chris, he was being a tease.  He knew you would be jealous, he even said so.  I humored him for a few minutes and excused myself to talk to Hayley.  That’s when you went over and started talking to him.”

Her calm is irritating him.  She can almost sense he is going to say something to escalate an argument. It’s almost like he wants a fight.  She sighs, looking at her watch.  The movie will begin showing soon and in her mind there are only two ways to end this: ignore him until he cools off or fire back to show him his stupidity.  She sighs knowing there really is only one solution.

Emery can feel the heat climbing up from the pit of her stomach and cut her eyes sharply to him.   Her voice takes on an anger of its own.  “Listen, asshole, if anyone should be pissed off here, it’s me.  You wanna get mad at me for flirting with some guy before I met you?  Fine.  Two can play that game…”

Chris is slightly taken aback at her turn.  “What are you talkin’ about?”

“You and I started talking on the website in early September.  And the “Chris” I was talking to wanted to meet then, but our schedules never matched up. Later in the month, I had to go away for a weekend with friends, and I messaged “Chris” when I could.  I met Sebastian for a five-minute photo op.  He flirted and invited me for drinks, but I DIDN’T FUCKING GO.  In fact, I went back to my room and messaged the guy on the dating site. Because I LIKED HIM.  Not Sebastian.  A guy from a five-minute photo op from a con, and you know how impersonal photo ops really are…”  Emery stands and pulls her jacket off the back of her chair.  She turns away from him, truly hating what she is about to say so much that she feels sick at her stomach.  “But there was another weekend in September when the guy I was messaging had to be out of town ‘on business.’  And we messaged a lot over that weekend.  And then I met you…”  Emery’s stomach churns when she sees the realization of what she is about to say dawn in Chris’s eyes.

Dropping her voice rather than raising it conveys her true anger. “I met you in October and I knew that weekend we first really hit it off you also spent time with your ex-girlfriend walking dogs in a damn park…  Because there are goddamn photos…  Photos as a fan that even made me sick, because it seemed like such a set up.”  Emery scoffs at her anger, a good rage starting to set in, especially if she keeps on this train of thought.   By now, Chris has sunk down into the chair she vacated and she looks him right in the eye, pointing her finger at his chest, going so far as to poke him once or twice.  Her anger is cold, her voice low and full of ice.  “So don’t you fucking get jealous with me about who I talked to or what I fucking did in the weeks that we were still getting to know one another online.  Because you were still making time with your goddamned ex-girlfriend.”

She walked to the bar doing her best not collapse into the puddle of tears stinging her eyes.  She could feel his blue eyes boring into her back.  She wasn’t really mad before but she is now.  Fuck him for ruining this night for her.  Like watching Civil War wasn’t stressful enough, from a fan point of view, but add in to the anxiety of finally meeting his closest friends, and she was already strung tight.  The last thing she needed was a scene, but he managed to let his insecurities rage instead.  Fuck.  But she’d been having a wonderful time, seeing Jeremy and Hayley again, and meeting Anthony’s wife as well as the other stars of the film.  Everyone had made her feel so welcomed and they were all so happy for Chris and wanted to meet her and hear their story.

Instead they’ll just remember we were fighting.  Nice.  She quietly asks the bartender for a shot of vodka and knocks it back.  She keeps her stiff position when she sees out of the corner of her eye Scarlett Johansson approaching the bar.

“Hey, Emery?  We haven’t had a chance to meet yet-“ Scarlett starts.

Emery snickers quietly and turns to the beautiful, intimidating woman.  “Scarlett, I’m trying to make a good impression here.  I don’t want you all to think I’m a bitch or that our relationship is rocky.  Now may not really be the best time,” she admits quietly.

“It’s ok.  I get it.  That man is infuriating.  More power to you if you want him forever!” Scarlett laughs and pats her arm.  “But I’ll tell you; I’ve known him as both a boy and man.  I’ve never seen him with anyone the way he is with you.  Every time I’ve talked to him these last few months or been with him for work, I can see it in his eyes or hear it in his voice when he talks about you.  He’s so calm and full of big plans, and the little things that normally bug him don’t seem to be an issue any more.  I don’t know you but I think you are good for him.  Don’t be too hard on him.  He does stupid things, but it’s because he loves you.”

Emery nods her head, appreciating Scarlett stepping in to defend her old friend.  “I know, you’re right, but that doesn’t make it easier,” she chuckles.  “Sometimes, like tonight, he can be a real asshole.”

The women continue their small talk before an announcement is made that the movie will begin in 10 minutes and it is suggested everyone move to their seats in the private screening room.  Emery looks for Chris but doesn’t see him anywhere in the room.  Her heart sinks.  Anthony Mackie comes to her side and offers his arm.  She hooks her arm with his and they head towards the door.  She sighs quietly and Anthony covers her hand with his.  “Where is he?”

“Renner took him outside to get a smoke.  Don’t worry, you didn’t run him off,” Anthony addresses her silent concern.

“I pulled out a big one,” she confides in her second favorite Marvel man.  She likes the easy friendship they have had since getting to know one another in New Orleans after Christmas.

Anthony chuckles, “Well, from what I could see, he deserved it, and you held your own.  I think he just needs someone to train him up right.  Keep your strong back bone.  You’re a good Southern woman; I know your type.  He needs someone like you to keep him in line.”  He bows to kiss her forehead as they walk to their seats and she waves to his wife.

“Does it bug her when you flirt?” Emery chuckles trying to return to the sense of ease she felt earlier in the evening, glad Anthony has that effect on her.

“Damn, honey, if I wasn’t flirting, I’d be dead.  She’s good with it, ain’t that right, babe?” he addresses his beautiful partner, tugging her hair lovingly as he gets ready to take his seat.  She nods her head yes, and Anthony finishes.  “Besides, it’s all just part of the charm and fun, and she knows I’ll always come home to her.  ‘Cause I’ll never find anyone better to take care of my sorry ass.  I know it and she knows.  Evans will figure that out too.  You’re good for him.”

He plops in his seat, and Emery places her jacket over the back of the chair to get ready to settle in as well.

“Ah, Emery! Not down there!  I thought you were coming up here to sit with me?” Robert Downey Jr. shouts out to her.

Emery smiles at his invitation, happy the teams have welcomed her into their group.  “Sorry, man, as much as I admire Tony Stark, he only has twelve percent of my heart.  I’m gonna sit here with Team Cap.”

“Only twelve percent, that’s not good,” the handsome older man chuckles, pelting her with popcorn.

“Well, yea, and Hawkeye and Falcon each have three percent, but the rest all belongs to Steve Rogers.  Always has and always will…”

“Eighty percent?  That’s all Steve gets?”  Chris quietly answers behind her.  She turns to him aware they are on display for the whole room waiting for the private screening.

“Not my fault all the Marvel men are so damn good looking,” she replies, her arm sweeping the room and everyone laughs at her action.

He looks around the room, and shrugs his agreement. “I guess I’m okay with that.”

“Can the record please state Bucky was not on her list?” Sebastian shouts out from the back row and the crowd laughs again.

Chris turns to flip off his friend and Emery giggles when she sees a bag of fries and a milkshake in Chris’s  hand.  “You think fries and a strawberry milkshake are gonna patch things up?” she asks, taking the offered cup and setting it in the cup holder of the theatre seat.  She swiftly hands the bag of fries to Anthony as Chris takes her in his arms.

“I’m hoping it helps,” he begins and kisses her in front of all his friends and coworkers, trying to say what he won’t be able to say with words.  “I’m sorry.  I was an ass.  I trust you.  I trust you with all my heart.  I’m sorry I made you feel anything less than special.  Fuck, I am an ass…  I need to take a page from your book, and not say every goddamn insecure thought I have.  But why do I feel like I might hear about that day at the dog park again?”

“Oh, yea, that’s probably not going away. Ever.  But only if I need big guns blazing.  I try to keep that one locked away… Just saying it made me sick…  Ya know, I don’t ask questions.  I don’t need to know everything about who you were before we met.  All I want to know is the YOU now and the person you are when we are together,” Emery reveals, cupping his cheek and caressing his beard.

“Down in front, let’s start this movie,” Renner shouts, throwing more popcorn at the couple, glad they seemed to patch things up.

They settle in to their seats and Emery takes her fries back from Anthony.  “You know we aren’t done with this conversation, right?” she quietly warns Chris as the room fades to black and the screen lights up.

“After the movie, babe.  Sit tight.  It’s gonna be a long two and half hours.”

“I’m not gonna survive this, am I?” she asks as the familiar red Marvel logo appears on the screen, wrapping her arm through his, actually bouncing in her seat from excitement.

“No spoilers here, babe,” he replies, kissing her temple before the movie begins.

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom


Cinderella’s Curfew

pt 4 Cinderella's Curfew.jpg

Cinderella’s Curfew

By avenger-nerd-mom

Actor Chris Evans meets with an OFC/Reader who wins a radio contest for a date with him, but plans change because of winter weather.  This is the conclusion to the story.

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1788

A special thanks to @ek823, who inspired this with her #FantasyFriday submission on @tsfrce

Part 1 The Winner is…

Part 2 Boston’s Best

Part 3 An Open Book

The clothes Chris offered fit, and you find a belt in the closet to cinch the waist of the jeans tight.  No red belt.  You looked, and laughed to yourself.   You smile when you see Cap’s shield peeking out behind some t-shirts.  You run your hands over them and bust out laughing.  A Pink Petunias t-shirt!  Before you become any more creepy, you leave the room, closing the door behind you.

Downstairs everyone is helping the kids with their boots, gloves and scarves.  Chris smiles at you when you come down the stairs.  Just a fan, just a fan, just a fan, you chant with every beat of your heart.  But at least it feels like you could be friends, even when this silly publicity date is over.

Chris’s brother in law chases the kids out the back door and everyone follows suit, even Lisa.  The back yard is lit up with Christmas lights, and you give Chris a questioning glance.  “She hired a company to do the lights, and liked them so much, we’ve never taken them down.  That was last Christmas.  We have them for every backyard gathering, doesn’t matter what season.  The home-owners association hates it, but she’s Captain America’s mom, so what are they gonna do?”  He hugs his mom to him and kisses the top of her head. She adjusts his scarf and pats his cheek.  He squeals like a girl, not realizing she had gathered up snow from the porch railing in her hand, depositing it on the side of his face, and she takes off running into the yard.  “And THAT is my mother,” he says, maybe as an explanation for his own behaviors.

You stand back on the porch, watching the craziness, thinking someone should be preserving this memory for the family.  You notice Chris’s youngest sister is snapping some photos on her phone, so you take his niece’s hand when she reaches for yours, leading you into the yard to help her build a snowman.  You watch as the boys all have a snowball fight and Lisa and his older sister are in the corner of the yard making snow angels.  The little girl is chattering away and you can’t understand half the things she says but she is just adorable.  She runs off to find sticks for arms as you wrap your scarf around the fat blob of a snowman.  “Perfect!  It looks just like Scott!” Chris jokes when he comes up behind you.

You stand up, turning to him and aim a giant snowball at him, but the one he threw hits you first!  You squeal in shock as the cold goes down your sweater, and you wonder how people really live in the snow and cold all the time.  But right now, you know this is the most wonderful night of your life, and you’d live forever in the cold, if this wonderful man was by your side.  “I’m gonna get you back,” you counter, as he takes off running again.

The little girl’s father comes to aid in finishing the snow man, as you chase Chris around the yard.  He disappears behind the garden shed and you wait behind a tree.  When he peeks around the corner, you pelt him with a snowball and he shakes it from his hair, laughing.

“Sorry to spoil the fun,” his older sister calls out, “but we’ve been out here a long time, and these kids are turning into Capsicles.  It’s time to go in and clean up for bed.  You crazy adults do what you want.”

From the corner of your eye you see that Scott and Chris are both advancing on you from opposite directions. Lisa calls out from the porch, “Boys! You be nice!  Don’t stay too much longer; I’ll have hot chocolate!”

You make the mistake of turning towards her and they both hit you at once, Scott closer to you, dumping snow on your head, and Chris hitting your legs with snow.  You twist to throw your snowball at him, and damn if you don’t slide again, falling over.  This time you land on Chris, taking him down with you.  He cushions your fall and lands with an “oomph” in the fallen snow.  You lay on top of him for a moment and this time you see a look of lust flash through his eyes.  You roll to the side quickly, and Scott helps pull you both upright again.  It’s almost like he can sense an awkwardness pass between you and he jogs into the house quickly.

“Sorry about that.  I guess snow boots in my part of the world aren’t really the same for here,” you laugh.

“Maybe you’re just clumsy?” he bumps you with his shoulder, and you brush the snow from his back, as you head indoors, laughing with him.

Inside the doorway, you shake off the snow, not wanting to dirty Lisa’s floors.  You glance at the kitchen clock.  “Chris, I feel like Cinderella, but I don’t know if you know, I have a curfew from the contest people. I guess someone is gonna check up on me back at the hotel at eleven…  How far away are we?  Do we need to head back into the city?”

Quizzically, you watch him.  He has an odd expression on his face.  You push your damp hair back, and feel like a mess.  Between the snow, and now sweating from the indoor heat, your hair is curling around your face, and your cheeks burn from the cold.  He just watches you as he addresses his mom, “Can you put the hot chocolate in to-go cups?  Cinderella has to get back,” he announces.

A short while later, you and Chris have said your goodbyes to his family.  You hear him promise Scott and his brother in law to stop at the store and pick up beer for the game tomorrow on his way home.  You are surprised when Lisa shares her email with you and gives you a big hug before handing you a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies.  “Thanks, Mom,” you giggle.  She smiles and nods her head.  “You enjoy the rest of your weekend in town.  If the snow hits bad and you can’t get out of the hotel, you send me a message if you need anything, and I’ll send one of the boys to help.”

You are overwhelmed at her kindness and hug her tightly again.  You know you will never have this chance again so you take a deep breath and say, “I think you have an amazing son.  He’s loved by so many people around the world because of the way you raised him.  That’s really something to be proud of; he’s kind and generous and he’s been a perfect gentleman.  Thank you.”

“Oh, stop, he made it easy,” Lisa laughs as she pats your hand on her arm.

You chuckle. “No, he didn’t.  He had to have been the biggest pain growing up!  You have a wonderful family; I’m glad I got to know you all tonight.”

Lisa’s eyes shimmer with unfallen tears and you know where Chris’s beautiful eyes came from.  “Thank you, dear.  It was a pleasure meeting you!  Best of luck!”

“You ready?  The walkway is clear and safe,” Chris announces as he steps in the door, taking the hot chocolate and cookies from your hands.  “Let me carry these, clumsy.”

“Ha-ha,” you joke.

The car ride back is quiet. You dread having to say good-bye, wishing this night didn’t have to end.   Chris finds a radio station playing 80s classic rock and you both sing along, filling the car with music and laughter.  He pulls into the hotel lot and parks the car.  He walks you into the lobby and you say your lingering goodbyes.  You don’t want to draw this out because all of a sudden you feel like your heart will shatter in two.  You don’t want him to see you this way, fighting to keep tears at bay.  “Good night, Chris.”  You whisper.  “It was really nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too, Cinderella,” he says as he hugs you tightly, kissing you on the cheek.

Sadly, you watch him walk away.  Before exiting the revolving door, he stops to wave at you once more, and then he is gone.  When he is out of sight, you wipe away the tears that have escaped, and look around the lobby, thankful no one is around.

In the elevator to your room, your phone beeps and you smile at the pictures from the snowball fight his sister sent you.  She snapped a few really cute photos of you and Chris together, and you know you will cherish those forever.  You text back a quick message, thanking her and letting her know you intend to keep those private to yourself.  Don’t want to be the girl on Instagram everyone hates, you smile to yourself sadly.  You hope she also shares those pictures with Chris and that they provide him with happy memories to, of the dinner he shared with a fan, who won a contest on the radio.

True to their word, a representative of the radio station knocks on her door promptly at eleven.  The woman enters the room, and asks you a few questions about the evening.  You catch the furtive glances around the room, and you just want to ask her ‘Do you want to check behind the curtains? Look under the bed? He’s not hiding here!’  You offer her a cookie, and she turns up her nose.  You hate those kind of women.  You lock the door, take a quick shower, letting out your tears, and get ready for bed.  You dig through your bag, looking for your tablet charger when there is a knock on the door.

“What the hell, lady, you wanna check the closet too?  Damn!” you mumble as you cross to the door.  You remember proper travel safety, and think to look out the peephole.  Why are those damn things so high up on hotel doors?!  “Who is it?” you ask gruffly.

“It’s me, Chris.  Can I come in?”  You’d know his voice anywhere.  You look down at your pajamas and know your face is puffy from crying.  “Please.  I drove around forever.  I need to talk to you.”

The tone in his voice punches you in the gut.  It sounds like you feel.  You open the door to him, and he takes you in his arms, wrapping his fingers in your hair and kisses you.  Exactly the way you hoped he would…

Copyright ©2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

An Open Book

Pt 3 An Open Book

An Open Book

Pt. 3

by avenger-nerd-mom

Actor Chris Evans meets with an OFC/Reader who wins a radio contest for a date with him, but plans change because of winter weather

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1350

A special thanks to @ek823, who inspired this with her #FantasyFriday submission on @tsfrce

Part 1 The Winner Is…

Part 2 Boston’s Best

“THAT would be my younger brother, Scott, “Chris groans.

“I have one just like him at home,” you giggle.

“Oh, good, so I don’t have to explain him?”

“No, I think I have him figured out.”  We both laugh together over the shared grief of having younger brothers. “Oh, my goodness!  Look at you!”

The hallway is lined with family photos and Chris stands back, watching you.  You soak them all in looking from photo to photo, smiling at the Disney photos, school pictures and family Christmases.   He points out a few to you and shares some of the stories behind them.  You like the way he steps behind you, not quite touching you as he shows you different details.  It feels intimate, like he’s inviting you to more than just his home for dinner.  You close your eyes to get a grip.  He’s hungry.  He missed his family.  He’s just being polite.  This isn’t a real date.

                But, damn, you wish it was, because it seems to be going so well!

Smells from the kitchen waft across your nose, garlic bread and roasting tomatoes, and he pulls you to the kitchen.  He introduces you to everyone, simply as a friend, but you catch the look he exchanges with his mother.  You hear him tell his brother in law about the patch of ice on the walkway and watch with smiles as he tumbles to the floor piled under his nephews and niece.  His sister, Carly offers you a beer, but you shake your head no, accepting instead the water bottle she offers.  A beer would calm your nerves, but you really feel you need to keep your wits about you.

“Mrs. Evans, you have a lovely home!  Thank you for letting me crash your dinner tonight!  What can I do to help?” you ask as you wash up, prepared to help.

She smiles at your offer and hands you two baskets of garlic bread.  “Dear, it’s all done.  We were just waiting on you two to get here.”

Each of the women take an item and carry things to the dining room.  You follow behind and Chris carries your water and his beer.  Dinner conversation is light and fun, and reminds you of Sunday dinners with your family.  There is talk of board games after dinner, before desserts and coffee.  Lisa starts to explain that its tradition, but Chris interrupts, “She gets it Mom; she’s Italian too.”

You smile at this, and notice Chris is loosening up, relaxing and talking more.  When he starts to get another beer, his mother scolds him, reminding him he has to drive you back to the hotel later.   Scott guffaws loudly at this, and you try to hide your blush.  By now, it’s come out in conversation that you were the winner of the dinner date contest, and the family is having a good time teasing you both.

Shortly after the table is cleared the men are in the kitchen, cleaning and doing the dishes while the women lean against the counter watching and talking.  Lisa pats your arm gently as she asks you a few more questions about your work and family.  You share with her that Chris said he was taking you to the best Italian place in Boston, and you are sure that he was correct.  She beams with pride, and promises to share the meatball recipe with you.  One of the little boys comes running into the kitchen, all bundled up in his snow gear, and his mother shouts, “Just what do you think you are doing, young man?!”

“Mooo—om!  You promised when it snowed and Uncle Chris was home, we could play in the snow together.  Well look!  It’s snowing right now!  Let’s go!”  He tugs on his mother’s hands and she looks to her husband and her brother.

Chris smiles at you, “You up for a snowball fight?”

“Sure!  Sounds like fun!”

Chris’s sisters go gather warm clothes for the little ones, and Scott issues a few challenges to his brother and brother in law.  Chris looks you over and says, “You aren’t going to be warm enough dressed like that.  Come with me.”

He takes you by the hand and pulls you up the back set of stairs.  You pause at the doorway, seeing the carvings into the wood work and the labels of each of the children’s ages and heights- Chris and his siblings.  You notice the other side of the doorway has the same markings for the grandchildren.  You long to have a house full of such history one day, and it makes you happy knowing Chris provided this for his mother.  Seeing him with his family makes him seem real and you’ve forgotten your nerves from earlier in the evening.

The stairs are narrow and he has you walk up first.  Halfway up the steps, you realize this means he is watching your ass.  Oh, God, please let it look good!  When you reach the top of the stairs, you stop walking, not knowing where to go, and he runs right into you, nearly pushing you over.  For the second time that night, you find yourself in his arms as he catches you from a fall.  Your hands land on his hard, broad chest, and you pull back quickly, glancing up at him.  “Watch where you’re going!” you quietly admonish him, trying to hide the shortness of your breath.  Something flashes through his bright blue eyes, but it’s gone before you can identify its message.

“Sorry,” he says, pointing to the door on the left.  You step in the room, and choke a bit, realizing it’s his bedroom.  You stand just to the inside of the room, taking it all in.  You sigh deeply, and as he riffles through the closet, you begin to walk around the room, gently touching some of the things on the shelves- photos from school plays, awards and medals from high school, and Marvel memorabilia.  You turn your head to read the spines on the book covers and find one of your favorite classics among the best sellers.  You pull it out to look at it, and see his handwritten notes in the margins.  You feel like you are getting a peek at who he really is, and you are amazed at the depths behind the front he shows to the public.

You continue to look through the book, smiling, realizing you had many of the same thoughts as you have read the book, many times, at different points in your life.  You don’t realize he is back in the room until he coughs, pulling you away from your thoughts.  “Which book?” he curiously asks.

Turning the book cover to him, you hide your smile behind it and your heart turns somersaults.  If you didn’t already love this man, this public persona you’ve gotten to know over the years, you would fall in love with him now, simply over a book on his shelf.   He reaches his hand out, taking the book, and handing you a pile of clothes.  For the first time in the evening, in the closed space, you can smell him.  He smells better than that damn candle on your bedside.  You fervently wish there was a way to bottle that scent, very masculine, outdoorsy, with a slight hint of musk.  “I think these might fit; at least they can layer over what you are wearing and keep you warm.”  He addresses the book.  “I always come back to this one.  It’s different every time I read it, and always has a new lesson for me at whatever stage I’m at in my life at that point.”

“I know exactly what you mean…,” you quietly agree.

There is a pounding in the hallway as Scott runs along, yelling “Hurry up, losers!”  and the moment is lost.

Chris grabs a sweat shirt off the bed and leaves the room, “Can you find your way back downstairs?”

“I think I can manage.  I’ll send up flares if I need to,” you joke.

Part 4 Cinderella’s Curfew

NOTE: @ek823 Just accept this as a thank you for being my first “fan,” the first random reader who reached out to let me know you loved my character, Emery Thomas, in Georgia on My Mind, as much as I do!

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Boston’s Best

Pt Boston's Best

Boston’s Best

Part 2 of “A Date to Remember”

By avenger-nerd-mom

Actor Chris Evans meets with an OFC/Reader who wins a radio contest for a date with him, but plans change because of winter weather

Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 1380

A special thanks to @ek823, who inspired this with her #FantasyFriday submission on @tsfrce

Click here for Part 1 “The Winner is…”

Chris once again maneuvers the conversation back to you as he leads you to his car.  You gently glide in past him and once you are settled, he closes the door for you.  You pull off your leather gloves quickly and lean over to open the driver’s side door for him.  He nods his thanks as he climbs in, readjusting the air vents and his seat.  “Sorry, a little too warm, I guess,” as he watches you pull off your gloves.  He laughs at the static in your hair when you pull off your bright red knitted hat.  You mumble, and he laughs more as it sticks to your coat. “Here, let me help,” he says as he reaches over to smooth your hair back into place.  He runs his fingers through your hair gently, and follows through to the ends, accidently brushing his fingertips against your cheek.  You jump from his cold touch, and giggle, “Damn, your hands are cold!” Even the slightest touch from him warms you inside.

“Lost my gloves at the airport,” he explains as he moves the car to pull away from the curb.

“I’d offer you mine, but I don’t think they’d fit,” you laugh as you hold your small hands up.  He chuckles with you, and you begin asking questions about some of the sights and buildings you pass.  “The city really is pretty all lit up at night.”

“If you’re in town all weekend, you really should go down and see it from the Harbor tomorrow,” he shares.  “It’s one of my favorite spots.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile from the image of him at the Harbor that you’ve seen over and over again.  You fight back the urge to giggle, but can’t help but say, “It’d be awfully cold for skinny dipping this time of year.”

Chris looks at you as he makes a right hand turn at the light, and his laughter echoes in the car.  “Yea, I won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”  He goes into telling some stories about events behind the scenes and shares a few tales involving his friends Anna and Chris.  You’re really surprised he opened up like that, so you are grateful you let your fangirl shine for a moment.

Your phone beeps a few times, and you politely ask, “Do you mind if I check it?  I have a relative who has been really sick….”  When he nods his head yes, you notice he watches you from the corner of his eyes.  You read the text message, relieved it’s from the contest people, and not your mother.  The message is to inform you that Chris will take you back to the hotel after dinner, and someone from the group will be checking in at 11 pm to make sure you have returned safely to the hotel. You chuckle at the underlying message- don’t hook up with Captain America.

“I take it that wasn’t about your family?” he inquires, a sweet smile on his face.  When he blinks, you can see by the lights on the dashboard his eyelashes against his cheeks, the dark shadows under his eyes from hard days at work.

“No.  Everything’s fine; it was just the contest people, with just a few reminders.”

The clock on the dash says it’s almost seven; time for your dinner reservations.  The scenery outside the window has changed, and appears to be more suburban.  The conversation now seems to flow a little more freely, and Chris is asking you questions about your job, friends and family.  You toss a few questions back, but he seems to want to steer clear of himself, so you let him.  You remind yourself this is just a publicity stunt, and he doesn’t have to give up and share anything personal.  His questions are polite and it is interesting to discover you share a few things in common.  Your stomach tightens when you realize he has turned down a purely residential street, and he slows the car in front of a house.  “Chris?” you hesitantly ask.

He puts the car in park and shifts in his seat.  “I promised you the best Italian food in Boston.  Nothing’s better than ‘Mama Lisa’s kitchen!’  The weather changed my plans and I didn’t get in last night.  I really miss everyone, and I could use a home cooked meal.”  He sighs and runs the back of his thumb down from his nose to his Cupid’s Bow, pausing his thumb on his lip.  His red, kissable plump lips.

The words are out of your mouth before you think: “It’s so cute when you do that!”  As the words hang in the air, you close your eyes in embarrassment and crash your head back against the seat.  You chuckle and say, “I said it out loud. Oh, God, I’m so sorry!”  You turn your head to face him, and he is biting back a laugh.  “I’ve been trying to be cool all night and not fangirl, but you keep doing and saying these things and I can’t help it…  And now you’re inviting me in to have dinner with your family?”

“I bring home friends all the time, I promise, it won’t be weird.  You don’t seem like the crazy stalker type, and I’ve enjoyed talking with you.  If it’s weird for you, we can go grab a burger, and go sit in the hotel lobby and talk some more.”

You notice a flicker of lights and turn towards the house.  A figure is standing in the doorway flashing the porch lights off and on.  It reminds you of when you were in high school, and your dad would flash the lights if he thought you’d been sitting in a car with a boy too long.  And realization dawns on you…  “Oh, my God, Chris!  Someone thinks we’ve been sitting here too long!”

Your laughter joins his as he releases one of his signature left boob grab laughs, rocking through his whole body and hitting his knee.  As he catches is breath, climbing out of the car, he says, “You are too funny!  I haven’t laughed like that in weeks.”

Well, you don’t think that’s true.  If he’s been on set with reshoots, there is bound to be laughter every day, but you aren’t going to argue with the handsome man who thinks you are funny.  You put your gloves back on before exiting the car when he opens the door for you.  As you walk towards the house, he has his hand on your lower back again, and you hear the “whoop whoop” of the car door locking signal.  This small gesture helps ground you back to reality.  You take a deep breath and pull yourself tall with confidence.  And in the next moment, you slip on a patch of ice on the walkway, Chris catching you before you can fall.  He rights you quickly and reaches low to brush the snow off your knees.  Your heart is racing from the near miss, and you hope no one is watching from the window.  “Are you okay? You look a little shaken up,” he offers with concern.

You slowly nod, yes, you’re okay.  You have a loss for words as his strong hands are gripping your arms, to keep you from falling again.  You just want to stand in the porch light and stare into his eyes forever.  You turn slowly and you both begin to walk towards the house again.  When you reach the door, it flies open and Chris’s brother, Scott, greets him with a warm hug and pat on the back.  “Welcome home, bro!  We’ve missed you around here.”

You see the look pass between the two boys as Scott looks you over.  While Chris takes your coat, before he can even introduce you, Scott yells over his shoulder, “Guess what? Chris brought home another girl!”  He winks at you as he starts to walk away, and yells at no one in particular, “This one’s even prettier than the last one!”

Part 3 Open Book

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

The Winner is…

Pt 1 The Winner is

The Winner is…

by avenger-nerd-mom

Actor Chris Evans meets with an OFC/Reader who wins a radio contest for a date with him, but plans change because of winter weather

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1742

A special thanks to @ek823, who inspired this with her #FantasyFriday submission on @tsfrce

Part 1

You still can’t believe this is happening!  You’ve enjoyed a great day sightseeing in Boston, despite the cold and snow.  You’re dressed for dinner, hoping you look as good as you feel.  It’s hard to look attractive and be warm when it’s only 25 degrees outside.  I probably look like the StayPuff Marshmallow Man in this sweater and scarf, you think to yourself.  While the people in charge are talking things over, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the windows of the restaurant and realize you look pretty amazing.  Your leggings and boots accentuate your long legs, and your navy sweater hugs your curves just right.  The floral scarf at your neck just provides added warmth from the chill that enters the restaurant each time the doors open for more revelers to come in from the cold.

You continue to scan the restaurant, running your fingers through your hair out of nervous habit.  That’s when you see him at the bar, watching you.  You turn quickly, hoping he didn’t get a good look at you.  This whole thing has been a little ridiculous already, and this would just add to the embarrassment.  You still can’t believe your best friend entered you into a radio show contest for Valentine’s Day to win a date with actor Chris Evans!  And you WON!   The letter she wrote revealed all the details of your secret crush on your favorite superhero and now you are five minutes away from sitting down to dinner with him.  You really hope he didn’t have anything to do with choosing the winners or reading the winning submission.  You shake your head at the thought, and start to blush.

The group has finished their talk, and have turned their attention back to you.  Plans for the day had changed because of the snow storm. You were supposed to meet Chris for lunch and do some sightseeing with him.  You are almost thankful the plans have just been altered to a dinner.  You couldn’t imagine how to fill all the time with small talk, so a few short hours for dinner is almost a relief.  You nod as the publicity people remind you of the rules again, yes, a few photos will be snapped, no, don’t ask for selfies.  No, don’t ask about Civil War. No, don’t get to personal.  Keep your hands to yourself.

Kinda sounds like every other crappy date you’ve been on lately; you smile to yourself.  Well, all accept for the last part.  All the guys you’ve meet recently don’t even want to bother with the talk, they just want…. STAAHHHP.  You are minutes away from meeting Chris, think positive thoughts.  Take a deep breath.

You look again to the bar, and notice he’s gone.  He had looked so good, standing there, in a gray sweater with a red plaid shirt peeking out at the collar.   God! If the man only knew how you felt about him wearing sweaters.  Your mind races to think back to the winning letter your friend wrote, and hope to hell that wasn’t in there!  And his jeans, hung low on his hips just makes your mind start to fantasize.  You shake your head again to clear your thoughts as the group begins to move forward.

The waiter leads you to a table.  His beauty takes your breath away and there is no other way to describe him.  You know he’s in the middle of reshoots, and he has a definite Cap look about him, and you feel your knees grow week as he takes your hand to say hello.  He cups his other hand over the top of yours and you realize he is larger than life.  Your eyes are drawn to his fingers.  You are vaguely aware of mumbling a hello, and repeating your name for him as some publicity photos are taken.  He squeezes your hand and winks at you, stepping to your side for a few more publicity photos, wrapping his arm around your waist.  He says something, and you look up to him and laugh, just as the camera clicks.  You smile when you think about how “prom photo” that must look, but know that’s the photo you’ll print out to keep on your bedside table.

He ushers you into the booth, and sits across from you.  Your mind quickly flashes to your favorite scene from the Nanny Diaries and you begin to feel giddy and caught up in this crazy contest win.  A date with Chris Evans?  Unbelievable, but actually happening, just days before Valentine’s Day.  Even if this is the worst date ever, you realize you are now ruined for all other men.   And you envy all other women who have sat in a booth across from him before you, but realize now, you will be envied someday as well.

He rolls his eyes when the publicity people ask you both to look over the menus for more photos, and he quietly thanks the waiter for bringing waters.  “I’m starving guys, I traveled all day to get here in the snow, and I want to eat. Three more pictures and then go!”  His team laughs at him, and they direct the photographer to finish up.  His people talk to him a few extra moments and he drops the menu to the table when they leave.

“Ugh!  I thought they’d never leave!”  He laughs, smiling brightly at you.  “I’m really sorry, can you tell me your name again?”

You laugh and joke that’s it’s a tough one to remember.  “I have no idea what my parents were thinking,” you shake your head.

“No, it’s really unique.  Different.  I like it.”

In your crazy mind you hear him say ‘I wike it’ and you can feel the smile so big on your face your cheeks might break.  You hide behind the menu, and ask him what he plans to order.

You peer over the menu at him, and he grins back at you.  “Honestly, this is the last place in town I would have picked to eat.  Do you mind if I check on another place for us?  Something less crowded…” he says as he waves across the room at someone, nodding his head up in acknowledgement.

“It’s your city; show me the best places,” you respond.  You blush when you hear an echo of his voice saying “the best place” in your mind, in reference to the bedroom.  You feel your temperature rise at the idea of Chris and a bedroom.  Get it together, girl!  Damn being a fangirl and knowing all these weird things!   While he shifts in his seat to pull out his phone, your mind races.  Maybe you should have paid better attention to the things people were telling you.  You really don’t know if you’re supposed to get in a car with him, or what the plan was for getting you back to your hotel later.  Chris smiles at you warmly as his fingers dance over the screen of his phone.

You watch as he leans forward and begins to toy with the packets of sugar on the table while he waits for the person on the other end of the line.  “Hey,” he says, his voice deep, reminding you of Steve Rogers.  “I just wondered what was on the menu tonight?  Sounds good.  Can I make a reservation for two at seven?”  He chuckles and shakes his head before hanging up the phone.

“How do you feel about the best Italian food in Boston?”  he asks, cocking his eyebrow at you.

“Well, not everyone can make gravy as good as my Nonna, but I’m willing to try,” you tease him.

“You call your grandma ‘Nonna?!’  You’re Italian?”  The smile on his face grows as you nod your head yes.  “Well, we’ll just have to see, cuz the place we’re going has the best gravy I’ve ever had.”

“You’ve never tried my Nonna’s recipe!” You blush at the implications, that someday you could make dinner for him, and your heart flip flops.  You’ve been trying to keep your crush at bay, and those thoughts won’t help.

He motions for the waiter to come over and you get lost in your thoughts while he talks to the man.  You like the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles.  You’ve adored this man since you first saw him in Cellular, over ten years ago.  The years have been good to him, and he just seems to keep getting better looking.  It’s not fair.  You focus back in when you hear him ask for the valet to start his car and have it warm.

Chris relaxes you back into small talk, asking you about the Italian side of your family.  You organize the table setting as it was before he had started fidgeting and moving everything around.  He watches you quietly as you talk and fuss, and when he stands, he motions to take your hand.  You breathe deeply as his warm hand touches yours again, and he pulls you up from the booth.  He lets your hand go, and leaves a large tip on the table, even though you didn’t eat anything, and neither of you drank the waters on the table.  Good man, you think to yourself, and allow him to guide you gently through the restaurant with his hand resting gently on your lower back.  You try desperately to keep your breathing steady as his touch sends tingles through your bones.  You won’t need to worry about bundling up for the cold because his hand warmed you all the way through.

The girl at the coat check counter glares at you when she sees who you are with, and he chats with her by name, although somewhat awkwardly.  You glance at him, and he shrugs his shoulders.  You giggle at his expression that says ‘What can I say?’ and he laughs with you.  You both bundle up before heading out, and your lungs sting from the cold winter air.  The sharp intake of air halts you for a moment, and he stops, “Not so cold back home, I take it?  Where are you from?”

Part 2 “Boston’s Best”

NOTE: @ek823Just accept this as a thank you for being my first “fan,” the first random reader who reached out to let me know you loved my character, Emery Thomas, in Georgia on My Mind, as much as I do!

Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom