Source: GW Seattle Chapter 12: Comfort
An Emery & Chris story
*a Chris Evans fan fic*
Chris and Emery share a rushed night together before he has to leave
Warnings: NSFW, language, adult situations, oral sex, anal fingering, intercourse
Word Count 2316
He chuckles when she enters the room, cocking her eyebrow at him. He can almost read her mind; wondering how he beat her to the room. She locks the door behind her. He smiles at the vision of his fiancee in her black leather boots as she quickly removes her sweater and plaid wool skirt, leaving her in only a gray lace panty and bra set. She starts to unzip the boots and he growls, “Leave them on.”
He can read the look on her face, knows she wants to retort that they are wet from the snow, but she keeps silent. Emery sighs, scuffing her feet across the carpet as she walks over to the bed. “You have to leave soon,” she complains, throwing the comforter back and away from his body, smiling at his thick rod waiting for her.
Chris watches her quietly with a smirk as she crawls up the bed and over him, one knee between his thigh and the other straddling his leg. He flinches when the cold metal zipper of her boot hits his warmed skin. Placing her arms on either side of his head, she drags her full covered tits across his muscled chest. Her body is chilled from the winter night as he winds his fingers in the tail of her french braid and pulls her down to meet his mouth, wishing to warm her quickly.
As his tongue teases along her lips he raises his leg just a bit, offering her support to grind against him. She accepts his invitation and Emery’s ample hips begin a light dance, a slow pulse against his firm solid form. As his mouth passionately works over hers, he can feel her wet begin to seep through her panties as her grinding becomes more forceful and between kisses a moan escapes her lips. Their kisses build in a hurried frenzy, both knowing they are trying to beat the clock. “I know, but you promised me,” he teases.
His hands race down the supple skin of her back, reaching to undo her bra with a flick of his wrist.
“Hey, now, what are you doing?” she asks, toying with him. “We don’t have time for that!”
“I still want something to play with,” he laughs, pulling down on her back, bringing her tits to his face. He pulls one of her pretty pink nipples in between his teeth, lightly biting down and flicking his tongue over the peak. Chris moans quietly along with her quick exhale of breath. “It’s been too long, kitten.”
“I know, jelly bean, I know,” she concurs, raising a hand to brush over one of his lush eyebrows.
He laughs again at her newest nickname for him, something she read on social media a few months back that seemed to stick with her. His mouth continues his assault on her beautifully rounded breasts, kissing quickly along the valley and up the slope to the next peak, enthusiastically moving to capture the other one in his mouth. Her grinding against his leg continues and her breathing intensifies, before suddenly pulling away from his mouth and hopping off.
The saucy red-head giggles at his groan of disappointment. Quickly flipping around on the bed, she takes him, somewhat soft, into her hot, wet mouth. Controlling himself, he grasps the sheets on either side. Her task is easier for his petite love if he stays malleable for just a few brief moments.
Her tongue works lovingly around his cock, swirling around him, caressing the veiny ridges with her tongue. Slightly limp, she can take more of him in her mouth and enjoys the sweet pull up as she pumps him, quickly sliding back down. She knows Chris can only handle three or four repetitions of that particular maneuver and her ass in his face isn’t helping his restraint. His hands grip tightly to her leather-clad calves. Her confidence surges at his choked, “Fuck me now, Em. Use your mouth.”
Bringing him to full rise, she can’t handle all of him in her tiny mouth. Her tongue caresses the tip, teasing at his slit with her tongue, lapping up his sweet pre-cum. She sucks down as much of his thick shaft as she can, and plays out her own little pattern of teasing, sucking and licking.
The sound of the zipper fills the room as he removes her boots, tossing them to the other side of the bed before sliding his hands over the lace covering her ass. He holds and squeezes her fine curves. Between the apex of her legs, he drags his fingers along the pretty lace trim, running his thumbs just under the elastic, caressing her silky smooth skin hidden underneath. Emery’s moan of pleasure vibrates against his cock, causing him to twitch and jolt in her mouth. She pulls back briefly, rubbing at her sore jaw before diving back on his ready cock. Her position allows him to watch as she bobs up and down on him, a sweet sway to her ass with each pump. Chris’s visions are on overload and he won’t last much more.
His dominant hand pushes the lace aside, revealing the perfect split between her cheeks and his fingers tease along the divide. He knows he can’t stay and hates to speed along her well-developed oral talents, but there’s not time for play tonight. He reaches in for her newly discovered overdrive button. The long summer break gave them opportunities to try new things, for him to be her teacher, at least in the bedroom. The pleasure she gets from having her ass played with is something he definitely intends to encourage in the very near future. His fingertip graces over her muscled rim, gently providing a push and her primal groan echoes through the room. He chuckles as she swallows him deeper while pushing back with her ass, silently and involuntarily asking for more.
Her mouth continues her work, adding a glide with her hands, using her salivating wet to aid her. She pulls and tugs, wrapping her mouth around him, focused on the pleasure she wants to give him as her mind races at the feel of his touch. She wants him and wants to be everything he will ever need and more. He’s taught her well and she loves the way her body sings under his touch, exploring new heights she’s never known. As his thumb gently slides in her tight hole, she can’t wait to share more uncharted sexual experiences with him.
His touch and caress on her ass, feeling gently inside her hole before she pushes him out has her pussy dripping and wanting more. She needs him; needs the man who makes her whole and who makes her complete. She hates knowing he has to leave soon, that he can’t stay the night. She looks up to see the clock reflected in the mirror and smiles to herself. She pumps him a bit more, bringing him closer to his edge. His throaty whines fill her ears and his thumb moves in and out of her asshole faster, demonstrating the moves he longs to give to her. Soon.
Feeling him ready to tip, Emery pulls off with a pop, dragging her tongue around the taut head of his cock. Quickly and much to his surprise, she spins her body around and moves the lace aside, pushing herself down on his throbbing dick. “You cheater! You promised a blow job! You said we-” she cuts him off with a kiss, biting at his lip as she grinds down on him then slowly pulls herself up.
As she hovers above him, readying herself to impale again, she detaches her lips from his, and says, “Look at the time. It’s okay, but you do have to leave soon.”
Looking at the clock Chris chuckles, clutching her hips and pushing her back down onto his waiting shaft, filling her full the only way he can. Her walls tighten and squeeze around him. “You tease! You still owe me a blowjob.” He accentuates his comment with a thrust up of his hips, pushing into her deeper.
“Maybe the next time I see you then,” she whispers into his ear, biting at his neck as he pulls her ass down tighter against him, pushing her pussy against his cock.
He lets out a yelp at the pressure on his neck. “No hickeys! They can’t be on camera.” He pushes her off his neck when she attacks again. “You vampire,” he teases. “Next time, huh? I might hold you to that.”
She giggles again, lowering her bites along the Tolle tattoo gracing his collarbone. Her hand rubs over his beard, soft yet not as full as he normally wears it. Gifted beard. Light. Just like she likes it, reminding her of when they first met.
Chris raises his knees, his feet flat on the bed, causing just the shift she needs as she arches her back, raising up from his chest as she comes forcefully. He lifts his head to catch her swaying breast in his mouth, muffling his own cry as he comes just as strongly after her release. They ride out the wave of relief together.
She collapses on top of him, sticky with his cum and their sweat. His fingers tenderly pull her braid loose, shaking out her amber waves, tickling his own chest with her silky strands. He loves the way she fits perfectly against him as she falls to his side and snuggles under his arm. He twines his fingers together with hers, rested gently on his hip.
“Want me to start you a bath before I leave?” His lips brush against her temple.
Sighing contentedly, Emery replies, “No, thanks. The next few days are crazy. I just wanna try to get some sleep.”
He turns his head to look at the clock on the bedside table, knowing he doesn’t have much time remaining. “Did I ever tell you? The first time we took a bath together, I thought you were trying to cook me?” He chuckles at the memory. “God, you had the water so hot, I thought I was going to die; like my skin was going to melt off.”
“You never told me that!” She laughs. “Good to know we still have things to learn about each other.”
“Yeah, like you’re a liar.”
“How did I lie? You’ve been begging for sex for weeks, and we’re finally together. I know you wanted a blow job, but you got a little extra.” She turns her head to kiss the side of his chest. “I don’t see that as ‘lying.’”
“Women don’t understand the male mind,” he huffs. “It’s a different kind of release; and you said-”
“I know what I said, but I didn’t lie.” She sits up, playfully pushing him, looking over at the clock. “I guess next time you have to clarify how you wish to finish. I’m good, we both got off, and no promises were broken.”
He grins at the defiant look on her face. He sits up, reaching down to gather his clothes from the floor. He stands to slide his Calvin’s all the way up. Before he can tug them over the curve of his ass, she leans over and bites it quickly before settling back down under the blankets.
“I hate that I have to go,” he complains, pulling his jeans up. “I can make other plans? Leave early in the morning?”
She hands him his phone that was hidden among the tangled blankets. “No. We both need rest. You need to go.”
Sliding his button down shirt across his back, he puts his arms through the sleeves, leaving the shirt to hang open. She hisses, “Damn, you look fine, boy.”
He shakes his head at her Southern drawl. Placing a knee on the bed, he leans over to kiss her forehead. “The next time I see you, it’ll be really crowded. How will I find you?” he asks curiously.
“I’ll be the one in the white dress.” The grin on her face is priceless. Every ounce of her being beams with love.
His heart explodes. “Emery, we’re getting married tomorrow.” His voice is filled with awe at the words he never thought he would say. Until I found her.
His face says it all. Her heart knows it’s forever. “Fuck yeah, we are. You’re stuck with me.”
“A red-headed, math nerd, cosplayin’, Southern Belle, liar.”
She chucks a pillow at his head. “Rather be a liar than a damn Yankee… Explain to me again exactly how I lied?”
Chris gathers his shoes and reaches for his keys. Hopefully at this hour no one will see the groom make his walk of shame to his private suite on the other side of the inn. He’s not buttoning up and going barefoot. “You said no sex till after we were married.”
“Christopher Robert Evans, you need to start listening better. I said no sex till our wedding day. I clearly timed myself to come after midnight.” She stifles a yawn, her eyelids fluttering as she fights sleep, wanting to talk to her man, to defend her honor. “I did not cheat or lie. Are you gonna tell everyone that? Because bragging about your exploits with your girlfriend is one thing, but today, I become your wife. That’s different, pal.”
He reaches out to her one last time before leaving, “I love the sound of that. Wife. I just love you needed to fuck as badly as I did… I love you kitten. Thanks for a perfectly enjoyable ‘last night’ as a single man.”
“Oh, honey, just think of all the fun married nights we’ll have!”
“Is that a promise too?” he whispers, stepping out the door, and pulling it tight behind him, knowing she’ll be asleep before he even gets back to his room.
Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom
Play it Through
an Emery & Chris story
* a Chris Evans fan fiction*
Chris shows signs of cold feet and Scott gives him the brotherly advice he needs to hear
Warnings: Language, Pre-wedding jitters, Smoking, cats, anxiety
Word Count 1990
Sitting out near the 9th hole, Chris and Scott continue their chat, their golf game on hold due to the rain. Chris has angled the cart just right so that Scott is getting pelted in the morning shower that popped up unexpectedly. He smirks each time Scott wipes the rain from his face.
“Dude, have you seen Emery’s list of songs for the DJ?” Scott chuckles, looking over the notes on his phone as part of his duties as ‘Best Man.’
Chris guffaws, shaking his head. “I’m sure it’s some fucked up list. Let me guess? Garth Brooks, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Meghan Trainor, Louis Armstrong? And to be a brat, I bet she put JT on the list too… Am I right?”
“Man, you two need to be on a newlywed game show,” Scott laughs, nodding his head to show his older brother he’s a hundred percent correct. “You know each other so well. You’d take home all the toasters!” Scott shakes the rain off his windbreaker, hoping his brother will take the hint and move the cart. But the rain seems to be matching the older man’s mood, so he rides it out, figuring maybe the storm clouds will loosen his brother’s tongue if he waits long enough.
After several minutes of silence, watching the rain, listening to the far away rumbles of thunder, Scott can’t take it anymore. “Dude, are you two still arguing? It’s petty shit. You need to man up and let it go.”
“Pick a topic. Any topic and we are probably arguing about it. Yes, it’s petty but she should have known.”
“Man. Lighten up. She already explained it was a business dinner with the state director. How was she supposed to know he’d try to make a move in the parking lot? Or that someone would recognize her and post the damn photos? At least there was a shot of the guy’s damn bloody nose. She can definitely take care of herself, that’s for damn sure.” Scott whistled his praise. “She doesn’t need you to swoop in like a superhero and take care of everything.”
“Fuck you, man,” Chris mumbles.
“Shit. That’s what’s bugging you, isn’t it?” Scott asks, finally understanding the cold feet. “She loves you with her last breath, but you know she could survive without you if it came to it. And you’d fucking curl up and die. You need her more than she needs you.”
Flinching at his brothers brutal honesty, Chris reaches into the pocket on his golf bag, and takes out a cigarette. He defiantly lights up under Scott’s watchful eye.
“How long you been sneaking those? I thought you told her you were trying to quit.” Scott can’t keep the accusing tone out of his voice.
“Well quitting sure would have been cheaper than keeping the damn kitten.” He scoffs at the memory of the arrival of the cat. “No, actually, I shoulda just fixed the damn door when she said it was broken. Do you have any idea how much a fuckin’ cat costs? Fixed, declawed, litter every week. Cat toys? And I actually like the damn thing!”
Scott laughs, thinking back to the videos Chris has shared during his last two visits to Emery’s Savannah home, different silly antics of the little gray furball. “Always knew you loved pussy, man,” he jokes, patting his brother on the back, lightening the mood briefly before getting down to serious matters. “Listen, you know Emery loves you. She’d do anything for you. It just kinda seems like you’re fighting her. Like you’re testing her. Don’t be a dick. This is not the girl you wanna push away. You said ‘name a topic.’ What else is bugging you, bro?”
Chris takes another puff on his cigarette, rolling it between his fingers and staring at the orange heated tip before answering. “She wants to wait to have kids.” His tone drops, thinking about their recent discussion when he was visiting Georgia. “After our first wedding anniversary. Man, I’ve waited long enough. I’m ready for a family with her, like months ago,” he spits out.
Scott turns his head, shaking the rain from his arm again and wiping the side of his face with a towel. “Chris- I said it before, I’ll say it again. Don’t be a dick. Think about it. It makes sense. You get her knocked up now,” seeing the pained look on his brother’s face, he changes his tactic. “That’s not what I meant. I meant if you guys get pregnant too soon after the wedding, you’re off fulfilling your Marvel contract, and she’s starting a new job and then you’ll have post-production and the press tour. And she’s home alone with her mom, or in Boston with ours. She doesn’t wanna raise your baby alone. Man, think from your head, not your cock. What she says makes sense.”
Chris stares at his brother. “Since when did you have so much brotherly wisdom?”
Scott raises his eyebrow and smirks, cocking his head. “Smart enough to know this isn’t the real shit that’s bugging you. Man, she doesn’t ask you for a damn thing. Why are you still fighting her on this? I mean, think about it. She’s not like your other girlfriends. She doesn’t want the limelight. She doesn’t want your money or fame. She doesn’t ask for fancy trips or jewels. If this is the one thing she’s ever asked you for, why won’t you give it to her?”
“It’s an out. It’s like saying we might not work. I can’t agree to that. You’re right. I can’t live without her. I don’t want her to have a backup plan, god forbid something does go wrong.”
“Jesus fuckin Christ, Chris. That’s not what she’s saying. She doesn’t want your money. She’s set it up so that she only gets what she deserves and nothing more. She wants to show you and the world she isn’t after your fame. She’s trying to protect you, Chris; looking out for your best interests. That’s what she does. She’s a mathematician; she knows the numbers. The prenup is to protect you and what she brings into the marriage.” Scott catches the look Chris is giving him. “Yes, she and I have talked about it. She knows I’m the only one that’ll talk sense into you on this one. And that’s where she’s different too. Other girls you’ve dated would’ve run crying to Mom to try to get you to change your mind.”
Chris nods his head, bitterly and non-verbally agreeing with his brother’s comments about previous women in his life.
“She’s made good investments over the years. She doesn’t want you to take her money if you fuck up.” He jokes with his brother.
“You think I’m gonna fuck it up?” Chris asks, finally voicing his fear. He rubs his hand over his face, stroking his beard. A comfort reaction that will be gone in another week or two. Dropping his head in his hands, he leans over the steering wheel of the stilled cart and speaks down to his feet. “I always have before. Why would this be different?”
Scott stares at his older brother, sitting on the seat next to him, looking like a lost and shattered man. Scott lets the image sink into his brain, never seeing his brother so weakened by love or fear before. It throws him off; his big brother always being big and strong, his hero long before Marvel made it official.
His voice fills with compassion. “Dude? Are you serious? Is that what this is about? You really think you’ll have to use it one day?”
Lifting his head, showing his true self to his younger brother, Chris’s eyes well with tears and he quietly nods, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.
Scott puts his arm around his brother’s shoulder, providing comfort. “Why would this be different? Because it’s Emery. Not some Hollywood starlet with a cartoon voice; but a real woman. Flesh and blood. Brains and strength. What does Mackie call her? A GRIT? She can take whatever shit you throw her way and she’ll build you both up, stronger for it.”
Scott pauses for the power of his words to set in. He may not believe Chris can promise an easy life but he knows Emery will wage any battle that comes their way. “If it really scares you so much, give her everything. Prove to her you’re not gonna let anything happen to your marriage. You really are ‘till the end of the line.’ But you gotta sign the damn papers. It’s just paper. It’s the only thing she’s ever asked you for, man.” Looking out over the wet golf course, the beautifully landscaped greens, he says, “You gotta play it through. She’s aces and you know it.”
Chris sighs, knowing his brother is right. Dammit, he hates admitting when Scott is right.
“Bro, I know you could give her anything, but she has never wanted what money can buy. All she’s ever wanted is you.” He taps the rain from the bill of his ballcap, cursing when it adds a puddle to his already damp pants. “That makes me question her intelligence some, but you know; she’s cute. I won’t hold it against her if she thinks you hung the stars and moon. But I’ll kick your ass if you fuck this up now. She is the best thing that has ever happened to you. Hell! I’ll marry her myself if I have to, because she was truly built to be an Evans woman. They’re a rare breed.”
Chris dips his head, acknowledging the strength and heart of the women bearing the Evans name. There’s no denying Emery can’t hold her own with that group. He continues to nod his head, lost in thought. Reaching into his pocket when his phone buzzes three times in a row, he unlocks the screen. His heart flips when he sees the messages she sent:
A fourth buzz indicates he has an email to open and everything he ever needs to know about the love Emery has for him is on display on the screen in front of him.
Chris sighs and admits out loud, “She is kind of a kick ass bitch, isn’t she?” His voice fills with awe and love for the tiny little red powerhouse who owns his heart, and soon his last name.
“Jesus, Scott. I’ve been a dick. I need to call Emery. Now. She and I have a lot to talk about it. Can you drive up the clubhouse so I can call her?”
“Of course, bro, not a problem.”
Chris sits, waiting on his younger brother to take the hint. He doesn’t. “Dude, you’re already wet. Get off! Walk around and I’ll slide over.”
Scott looks up the hill, realizing he’ll still be driving into the direction of the rain, just getting more wet on the way back. “Remind me never to be your ‘Best Man’ ever again; this part of the job sucks.”
“Shit, man, if I keep my head on right, and you kick me in the ass every now and then when I need it, you only get this one time at Best Man duties. ‘Cause if I fuck it up, I won’t need a prenup, I’ll need a funeral.”
Both brothers share a gut busting laugh in agreement, Scott choking out. “She is scary for such a little thing.”
“Yeah, but she’s mine,” Chris smiles. Into the phone, his voice jumps to life. “Hey, kitten, you busy? I’ve been a real ass and I need to apologize and fix some things…”
Author’s Note: To learn more about Emery and Chris’s kitten, Bucky, click the link in the story.
“Engagement photos” were found on Pinterest. I have no idea who the man is in the large photo, but he sure looked like Chris to me!
Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom
Source: GW Chapter 10: Light of Day
One Last Time
A Chris Evans Fan Fic
Chris has to say goodbye to a special someone
Warnings: Emotional, Adult Situations
Word Count: 493
Written for @thewife101cevans
She turns to leave. One last time.
He grabs her, his strong grasp on her upper arm, resting above the crook in her elbow.
“Please don’t go,” he desperately pleads. “Listen to me.”
She pulls free, her mind made up. “I am listening. I’ve been listening to you, to your propaganda, for years. And right now, you aren’t saying anything.”
His face drops, knowing he’s lost her; she won’t change her mind. He’s lost his greatest champion, possibly forever.
“Even now,” she spit out, facing him with her hands on her curvy hips. “Your silence speaks volumes.”
“You won’t listen anyway.”
The sadness in his voice reaches through to her. She blinks away her own pain, and even with her eyes closed, she can still see him. The face she admired and loved and stared at day after day for over two years. His beautiful face painted in her brain, just as she sees him when her eyes flutter open again.
He is standing in front of her now, tears welling in his blue eyes. “I can’t change your mind.”
A statement. Not a question. He knows in his gut it’s a matter of time before she walks out the door. Maybe gone forever.
“I don’t wike it,” he whispers. One last time.
“You aren’t who I thought you were. Shame on me for forgetting you’re an actor.” The bitterness seeps through her vocal chords, burning her with a pain she doesn’t want.
Her eyes drop to his hands, her weakness, as they move to cup her face.
He chuckles mournfully. “Shame on me for being so good at it.”
He kisses tenderly on her soft pink lips, the goodbye he needs, whether she wants it or not. His thumbs wipe her silent tears and the liquid salty emotions reach his mouth as he pulls away with a quiet smack, echoing in the room.
“Thank you for loving me,” he murmurs near her ear, leaning his forehead to rest against hers, tugging her dark curls. One last time.
Grabbing his hands, she gently pushes them away from her, squeezing them in her grasp. One last time.
She steps back. “I can’t any more.”
His regretful sigh fills the room. Moving away, to stop himself from doing something they’d both be sorry for later, he sits on the end of the bed, resting forward on his elbows, wringing his hands. “I know. I understand… I hope one day you can forgive me.”
His eyes look up, silently pleading with her as the tears cling to his long dark lashes.
A faint smile raises her lip. She steps forward and runs her hand tenderly down his cheek, his stubble tickling her palm. Memorizing each freckle, each laugh line, each beauty mark. One last time.
“Me too,” she says, a hint of hope hanging in the air as she walks out the door to their room. One last time.
His choked voice speaks to an empty room. “I hope to see you again. Bye, beautiful.”
Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom
Source: NSFW Asks Pt 1: Flash Forward
Part 2 of Summer Vacation
A Mrs. Evans Story
*a Chris Evans fan fic*
Future Chris and his wife enjoy some time alone in the RV
Warnings: NSFW, language, adult situations, food play, analingus, fingering, penetrative sex
Word Count: 2207
Humming a little tune, I stir the brownie batter and whip it as smoothly as I can, missing my stand mixer and some of the other comforts of home. I smile to myself when the door to the RV flies open then shut, and Chris curses when the door won’t latch. I look over my shoulder at him, laughing. “You’re gonna have to get that fixed. You keep telling the kids not to slam it so it won’t break and you’re the jackass that broke it.”
He sighs deeply and rolls his eyes. I turn back to my task of mixing and he comes behind me, pushing my hips against the counter, his cock already hard and pressing against my ass.
“I thought we ordered pizza so there wouldn’t be any dishes to clean. Why are you baking brownies?” he asks, brushing my hair over my shoulder and nibbling my neck.
“I wanted the batter. I needed something chocolate and sweet.”
“I got something sweet for you,” he suggests as he pushes against me again, his hand coming up to cup under my breast. Noting the lack of bra, he asks, “You showered?”
“Yup,” I reply, looking over my shoulder at him. “All ready to watch a movie and hang out with you till the kids get back.”
Chris reaches his other hand over my shoulder and dips his finger into the batter. He pulls it up and the chocolate gooey mess drips from his fingers as he brings it to my mouth. A glob lands on my chest right above the lace trim of my tank top. He turns me slightly in his arms and eyes it lustfully. Diving to lick it away, a wicked grin graces his face as he raises his cocky eyebrow at me. My breath catches, and my nipples harden at his touch, straining against the thin fabric of my top. “Damn, I still fall for that eyebrow,” I laugh, caressing it with my thumb.
“Still got it, babe.” Winking, he places his finger in my open mouth, wanting to share with me. My tongue wraps around his finger as my mouth closes on him, sucking the chocolate from his warm skin. I savor the flavor and tease my tongue on the lightly calloused pad of his finger tip. I giggle as he pulls his finger lose, scraping against my teeth as his body shakes from a slight chill, his reaction to my tease.
Dipping his finger back in the batter, he moans quietly, “My turn. I wanna taste some.” He drags his fingertips across the top of my shoulder, the chocolate covered finger held out of the way as he moves the spaghetti strap down my arm before smearing the chocolate down the side of my neck.
“Aw, Chris, now I’m gonna be a sticky mess!” I fuss, secretly pleased with his attentions.
His mouth starts on my shoulder, kissing and licking up the sweetness, moving towards my neck. His teeth gently drag across my skin, his tongue leaving a trail of wet in its wake. His other hand reaches under the edge of my short shorts and teases along the edge of my lace panties. “Mmhmm… You’re wet,” he whispers in my ear, a chill running down my spine.
“Yup, and Bud and I had a chat. He knows NOT to bring the other two back early this time.”
“What? How can he be fourteen and not realize ‘old people’ still have sex?! Doesn’t he live in the same house with us? How did he not know?! And your son called us OLD!”
“Yea, that was a dumb,” I laugh, turning the sweet sound to a moan as his lips nip at my flesh again. “You didn’t say it, did you?”
“No,” he sighs bitterly, licking the remaining chocolate from my neck, his beard tickling me. “But really, how often do you get the opportunity to say ‘if the trailer’s rockin’, don’t come knockin’?’”
I take a spoonful of batter and seductively lick the spoon as he watches me. “And you wonder why the kid needs therapy?”
He pushes me into the counter, a little roughly. “Hey, mood killer? Wanna talk about taxes and funeral plots, too?”
“Sorry, sorry,” I push my ass back against him. “Stupid ‘mom brain.’ Got any ideas on how to clear it?”
Pushing my shorts down quickly, he turns us so he can push me onto the bench seat at the table in the confined space. “All fours, babe,” he orders. I tug my top over my head, revealing my toned naked form to him. I bite back my laughter when he hits his head on the hanging lamp and curses. “Chocolate and sweet? Hmmm… I like that idea,” he announces.
The metal mixing bowl clangs against the counter as he pulls it to him and I instinctively shy away when the cold batter dribbles across the top curve of my ass. “How many squats today?” he asks, appreciatively.
“Two hundred and fifty. Tomorrow’s a rest day,” I answer as he runs his finger through the mess of chocolate he’s making.
I look over my shoulder and the look on his face is pure Evans. “Are you finger painting?” I ask with a smile.
“I always liked art. Edible just makes it more fun.” He pushes down on my back, lowering me to crouch back on my heels. I stretch my arms out in front of me, pushing back against the wall, enjoying his playfulness.
I hear his belt buckle hit the floor and his foot hit the cabinet. “Dammit,” he mutters. “I shoulda just carried you to the bed, but I didn’t wanna hear you bitch about brownie batter on the sheets.”
“Shut up, Evans.”
He kneels behind me, wiping his hands on the kitchen towel. He grasps my hips and massages me roughly, pulling me back to him. Goosebumps cover my flesh when he begins to use his perfect tongue to clean the chocolate mess. His wide oral muscle makes quick work of the cleaning process, his lips following after each swipe to deliver gentle kisses. His moans hit to my core and I’m practically dripping on the leather seat, writhing and pushing myself to his face. He chuckles at my silent message. “Almost clean,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “Good things come to those who wait.”
His hands spread my cheeks, tugging and pulling as his mouth continues to cover my skin, moving closer and closer to my hole. I hold my breath in anticipation and I’m not disappointed when his lips cover my sweet rim and he kisses me intimately. One hand reaches through my legs, seeking my other entrance, plunging in two fingers quickly. With his hands and mouth working his magic, he knows how to quickly bring me to the edge; he’s had years of practice and tonight there is no time for games. “Shit,” I hiss. “It’s not enough, I need you to fuck me, babe.”
Chris chuckles, his lips pulling away from the suction on my pretty pink asshole. He remedies that quickly by returning to his kisses, making use of his tongue as he dips gently inside. I moan in pleasure and a thought enters my mind, “Not this time, mister. No licking brownie batter there. It’s good for five minutes, but not worth the troubles later.”
He taps my ass, acknowledging he heard and understood me, and I look over my shoulder again, just seeing the top of his spiky summer hair. His fingers pick up speed, twirling and scissoring, and curving against my walls in our own practiced rhythm. I crave a verbal release, but we’ve learned over the years that’s not acceptable in family oriented campgrounds. I quietly hum as his tongue pushes a little deeper in one space and he teases around my clit in the other. So close to the edge but I need more. “Chris,” I whine. “Help.”
A third finger isn’t what I had in mind, but it does the trick. I shatter and come, but not hard enough, not with the relief I need. His mouth releases its hold on my ass, but his hands still work their magic. His foot hits the cabinet again and I can hear him changing position on the floor. He quickly pulls out his fingers and grabs my hips, pulling me off the bench and down on the floor, into his lap. My pussy still clenches, needing more, needing to be full. He rests me momentarily on his thigh and I twist to kiss him, ravenously taking his mouth, not caring where it’s been. He holds his stiff cock, so beautiful, in place, as he guides me with his other hand to slide down on him.
Chris leans forward, holding my back against his chest, reaching to grab my tits with his free hand. I am seated on him, pulling my feet behind me, resting against his legs, gasping as he fills my need. My space stretches for him, swallowing him deep inside. His hands slide down my ribcage and hold tight on my hips, pushing and pulling me against him. I lean forward on his strong thighs and grind against the base of his cock, turned on by the rapid sounds of his breathing, and the quiet moans he makes. He uses his strong hands to bounce me on his tool, sliding one hand down between my open legs, reaching for my sweet button to signal my release.
Her growls in my ear, “I wanna play forever, but the kids…”
“I know,” I whine. “Roll me; fuck me into the floor.”
“Whatever you say, Mrs. Evans.” He obliges my request quickly, hooking one arm under my leg and raising it before thrusting deep inside then pulling out slowly. “Just a few of those,” I sigh, smacking his ass, the sharp sound of my flesh against his like music to my ears.
He grunts, repeating his actions and I reach for the side of his face, drawing his attention to my eyes. “I love you, baby.”
I can’t take much more of being pushed into the hard floor. His eyes focused on mine, I smack his ass again with my other hand.
“You’re bad; that’s it,” he grits through his teeth, letting go of my leg and falling to me, his mouth on mine, hot and wet, sweat clinging to his beard. His hard chest pushes against my breasts and I arch into him. I never exactly know quite what his last minute move will be, but it’s always just what I need, and not always the same, as he pummels into me, pushing me over the edge.
Rising up for his own release, he hits his head on the underside of the table. “Dammit!” he barks, continuing his penetrating bursts before his seed spills into me, filling me and when it’s too much, his heat runs between my legs, pooling on the floor under me as he falls next to me.
I wrap my arms around him, holding him tight. “Good job for an old man,” I tease, stroking the patch of gray in his hair that I adore so much. He chuckles and nips at my breast, rolling to reach the bowl of brownie batter.
“Not too bad yourself,” he teases. “See. Old people can still do it.”
“Stop!” I fuss before he can reach into the chocolate batter. “Your hands!”
Confused at first, he stops himself in mid-air, sitting up before setting the bowl on the bench we didn’t just fuck on. “Yea, I got it,” he nods. “Why don’t you go shower again? I’ll wash up, myself and the leather seat, maybe mop the floor,” he grins when I flip him off, “and get the brownies in the oven, and when the kids get back we can have ice cream with them at the campfire?”
I smile when he uses the spoon to drop one last glob of rich chocolate onto my breast, suckling it clean, before helping me to my feet. “Cut the roll of cookie dough in the fridge. We can’t use sex brownie batter for the kids; that’s all kinds of wrong,” I laugh.
Before I step into the other room, I turn back to him and catch him licking from the spoon. A dribble of batter clings to his lip and I step back over to kiss him. “I love you, Mr. Evans. Thank you for an enjoyable fuck; I needed that.”
“And thank you for letting me fuck you. I mean, I’m sure the creeper across the way would have been available.” When I punch his arm, he grimaces, laughing and rubbing the spot. “Hey, that arm still hurts sometimes, you know.” He rolls his eyes, lit up with mirth and a tease to his voice. “Still not into being a swinger? No? He watched you all afternoon-“
“Shut it, Evans. Enough, you’re the only man, or cock, for me.”
“I am quite desirable, and lovable.”
“And an asshole,” I call over my shoulder, stopping again at the door, smiling at him.
“Babe, that was quite memorable… Go shower. I love you, too, Mrs. Evans.”
Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom
A Mrs. Evans story
A Chris Evans fan fiction
Future Chris takes the family on their annual RV vacation
Warnings: Language, Adult situations, stress, parenting
Word Count: 2506
“Everyone buckled in? Princess did you get your sandwich? Bud, is the kennel latched tight? Honey, is the GPS ready? Where’s my phone?” Chris asks a litany of questions rapid fire before anyone can answer him and he’s already pulling out of the parking lot before I’m even settled in my seat.
“Dammit, Chris! You did it again! You’re driving and no one is ready yet.” I pull the door tight, making sure it’s actually shut this time, and scramble to get my seat belt fastened.
“Kids,” I call back over my shoulder, “is everyone buckled? Check your sister, boys!”
After some scuffling, and a muffled “ouch!” our oldest son replies, “All buckled, Mom.”
From the bench seat, our middle son shouts, “Dad! How come you always lose your phone?”
Princess chimes in, “Yeah, Daddy, that’s why I gave you that pink phone case for Father’s Day. So you wouldn’t lose it!”
Chris eyes it on the edge of the dash and puts it in his lap for safe keeping.
“Darlin’, you know I love that phone cover. It’s one of my favorite presents. Alright, Mrs. Evans. Which way next?”
The summer family road trip is nearly over for this year. It’s tradition. Some nights we tent or stay in the RV. Other nights Chris allows me the luxury of a nice hotel suite, but I think that’s just when he needs to rest and soak his aging body in a hot tub.
The two younger kids sit at the table, buckled up, engaging in quiet games and chatter. Our oldest son is asleep on the couch, having complained enough there was ‘nothing to do.’ Movies and video games are limited to certain time frames. No child of mine will be dependent on technology for entertainment. And of course there are sing a-longs! We may not be great, but we are loud!
After our second stop of the day, Chris and I work together to clean up our picnic mess in the road side park while the kids play Frisbee and catch with Buster, their beloved mutt, a true Heinz 57.
Dropping the last of the paper plates in the trash, Chris wipes his hands on the towel sitting on the table. The simple gesture catches my eye as I fold up the camp chair and try to put it back down in its’ bag. Like years before when I first paid attention to him on the big screen in the Winter Soldier, the way he twists the towel around each finger actually causes my pussy to clench. Focus. No time for sex now, lady.
I giggle out loud at my own internal monologue as i struggle to get the chairs to fit back into their space in the outer storage well on the RV.
Bent over, pushing and shoving the damn things back into place, I must create quite a mesmerizing sight for Chris. I can actually feel his eyes on my ass, and laugh out loud at the cat call and wolf whistle he sends my way. “Aw, fuck it,” I pronounce, letting the chairs clatter to the ground. “You do it,” I order, turning my attention to him.
Chris comes up behind me closely and bends to pick up one of the chairs, skimming his other hand up my leg seductively. He steps closer, purring in my ear, “I do have years of practice of getting big things to fit into tight spaces.” I simply grin at his cheesy innuendo, leaning back into his strong chest as he reaches around me, and easily puts the chair into the open slot. “One at a time usually slides in easier, babe,” he chuckles, biting my exposed neck playfully.
Our oldest son shouts “Get a room!” but the gleam in his eyes, much like his father’s, actually is full of pride and joy. So many of his classmates come from split homes that I think he realizes just how lucky he is to have two parents who love each other and want to be together.
“Chris-” I cut off whatever inappropriate come back he plans to make and he chuckles. Father and son have used locker room humor as a bonding technique during this trip, and I can’t say I’m overly fond of it.
He quickly puts the remaining chairs in storage and aggressively kisses me again, pushing back my ball cap to do so, holding tight to my lower back, making sure I can feel how hard he is for me.
“Save those thoughts for later, dear. But just know you’ve made me a wet mess, and there’s nothing we can do about it now,” I taunt, moving towards the picnic table, pulling his hand to move along with me.
“Maybe we’ll order in pizza at the campground? Let the kids go to the movie night at the park? Bud can take the kids for two hours,” Chris offers, calculating sex on the road with family around.
“Mmm… Pizza. Chicken bacon ranch?” I sigh, really missing the comforts of home. “With garlic cheese sticks?”
He nods in agreement. Settling down at the table together, we have the family calendar in front of us. Time to plan. With this active family, it’s a full time job. Chris pulls his glasses out of his pocket, and skims over the colorful grid full of handwritten notes and memos. “Ok, Mrs. Evans. I still have two weeks of vacation when we get back. You and your girls have your annual trek to the beach five of those days.” He pats my arm, smiling. “Just me and the kids. I’ll tell you, I can’t wait. They’re growing so fast. Bud is a freshman, he’ll graduate soon and -”
“Soon? Honey, that is still four years away. He’s not even driving yet. Don’t kick him out of the nest already,” I laugh, rubbing his shoulder, thinking it’s so cute how sentimental he gets when he realizes how time flies. “And you have to quit calling him that. He’s told you he’s too old for you to call him Bud all the time. It’s time to just make that a private nickname you share.”
“Right, right. I know. I know. It’s just so natural after 14 years,” he looks over to the kids playing, his eyes full of love and wonder. I’m so lucky this man is mine; is the father of my children. “I can’t believe he gets his permit right after I leave. He’ll be fifteen in three weeks. Where did the time go, babe?”
I lean my head on his shoulder, wrapping my arm through his, thinking about the struggles we faced with him when he was little, so many health problems that we almost didn’t have more children. “I don’t know, babe; I don’t know,” I answer quietly, just as shocked as he is.
After a few moments of shared silence, I look back at the calendar. “Princess has dance camp with Carly and Shanna’s girls. Since I’ll be gone for some of that, and Carly has a teacher conference, your mom is gonna drive the girls. And the boys have drama and football camp, each their own.”
Chris shakes his head. “Football camp? How did we end up with athlete?”
“I have no clue,” I giggle. “I never would have guessed it was somewhere in our genetic code.”
“Let’s just hope he’s good enough to play for the Pat’s one day…” He says, tapping the bill of my favorite cap, from one of our first dates together.
I flip the calendar ahead and tell him the date of the first ball game. “I know it’s just middle school ball, but it is a traveling team and he’s-”
“Babe, I’ll be there,” Chris interrupts. “I already told Robert that if we were doing this comedy together we would both work around our kids’ schedules. I’m not gonna miss his first game. I’m gonna yell so loud, he’ll wish I wasn’t there. Maybe I can convince ‘Uncle Bob’ to come too!”
I laugh at the thought of the two grown men cheering on a middle school football game. “I’m glad you two found a project you like and could agree on. We need to have the Downeys over to celebrate. Maybe a BBQ before I leave on my trip.”
Nodding his head yes, in agreement, Chris makes a note on his phone. “Ya know, there’s still a few female roles not cast.” He looks at me with interest. “There’s a spot for you if you want it. The kids are older. You could start to work again?”
I shrug my shoulders. Returning to the screen isn’t really on my agenda. Running Casa Evans and getting everyone where they need to be is a full time job. The best job. “I know. I’m waiting for the right project. The script is in the dash console? Maybe I’ll take a look this afternoon. “
“I think you’re perfect for the role of the older woman the male lead falls for. Remind the movie goers why you used to be their sweetheart. Let them see that older is sexy.” Chris says, leaning forward just enough to sneak a peek down the front of my tank top. “You still got it, babe. Your name on the billboard would pull in money.”
Blushing, I sigh, and push the thought away. “I don’t know, Chris. I kinda like just being your sweetheart now, but I’ll read it over. I’ll think about it.”
The kids are fighting about something, and his chest puffs up, getting ready to yell at them. I place my hand on his arm, silently signaling to him to let them take care of it themselves. He watches in awe as the littlest, our overly confident daughter, sets the two older boys straight, while the dog nips at their ankles, bouncing and waiting for the game to start again.
Chris looks down at his watch and a smile crosses his face.
“What’s that about, that big smile?” I ask, hiding my own grin, already knowing where his thoughts lie whenever he looks at that watch.
He shakes his head, blushing lightly. “Oh, just thinking about this old leather watch band and memories attached to it; it’s seen a lot, you know. It could tell more than just time.” He nods his head, his eyes gleaming.
“Good. When you write your memoirs, all your sexual exploits, you can tell it from the point of view of the watch,” I tease, pushing against his shoulder. “You know they’d both love to read something you wrote.”
“Damn, woman! How can you not get jealous at all?! If we were sitting here and you were teasing me with taunts of your exes, I’d be so fuckin jealous and mad I wouldn’t talk to you till we got to the state line!”
I throw my head back in laughter. “That reminds me, did I tell you I ran into Leo at the grocery store before we left town?” His eyes turn icy blue in an instant. God, he can dish it out, but he can’t take it. “Relax. He looked like shit; the years have not been good to him. You have wonderful genes,” I confess to him, running my hand up to caress his cheek. “Hon, of all your exes, I LIKE those two. I don’t know how you all stayed friends, but I’m glad you did. They were both a big help when you had your hospital stay and-”
“Can we not talk about that? I’m healthy now, it’s all good,” his quiet tone stops that conversation flat…
“We’re gonna have to talk about it sometime-”
Chris ignores my comment, addressing the kids as if I hadn’t even spoken. That’s another visit to therapy wasted. “Alright, kids, load ‘em up! Make sure Buster has had a potty break and get him back in his kennel.” He pats my arm and shakes his head ‘no,’ thinking he’s dismissed the topic. He continues calling out to the kids. “I wanna make the campground by five; we gotta rest tonight because we have a rapids ride tomorrow!”
His announcement is met with whoops and hollers of joy from the kids as they get everything ready to climb back into our house on wheels. But my heart is heavy with his avoidance of serious topics we need to discuss but he refuses to acknowledge.
“I’m sick of this fuckin’ shit, babe, call the damn place,” Chris growls as he backs the RV out of the tight spot.
“Daddy! Language!” Princess giggles from the back seat.
Through gritted teeth he plays their little game. He replies, “I understood that reference… Not now, sweets, Daddy’s trying to figure out these directions. What the hell, babe? Look at the damn GPS.”
“Dammit, Chris! I am. I told you to turn right, and you turned left. I don’t know why we ended up lost. And now you keep turning around before it has time to recalculate,” I retort. “Just pull over.”
“You call and get directions.” Sensing my temper rising, he adds a pathetic, “Please.”
“You dropped my phone in the fountain, remember? Where’s yours?”
He shifts his sunglasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Aw, fuckin hell. I’m too old for this shit… I don’t know,” he huffs.
Trying to calm him, I drop the tone of my voice. “Breathe deep, Evans.”
Undoing my seat belt to look for his phone, I lift the script I had been reading and check the console. I look on the floor around us. I giggle when I find Junior’s missing retainer, covered in dog hair. I don’t see it anywhere. “Chris? Did you lay it down when we put the chairs in the storage?”
Princess chimes in again. “It’s pink! How do you keep losing it?”
“I dunno.” He looks to his left, in the door console, and flips the visor down, in case he’d perched it there. Finally, he chuckles, announcing “Found it! It’s in my lap, babe. Can you call now?” he asks, already sounding more calm.
I buckle back up and ask him to hand it to me, grabbing the list of phone numbers from the glove box.
“Come and get it,” he purrs. “It’s one of two things between my legs. Give ‘em both a tug.”
I shake my head at his frat boy humor, trying to ignore his sexy grin. “Oh honey, it’ll be easy to find. You may have two pink things between your legs, but only one is hard,” I tease quietly, reaching over to run my hands across his thighs, brushing my palm across his dick, before pulling the phone free.
“You tease,” he growls.
“You like it,” I taunt.
Keying in the numbers to call the campground, I hear Bud mutter, “God, you’re so warped.”
Chris chuckles, yelling over his shoulder, “Put your damn headphones back on, son,” and lovingly reaches for my hand to hold as we continue down the highway.
Stay tuned for Part Two “Brownie Batter”
Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom
Emery and Chris share some private opinions in a public forum
Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, Politics
Word Count: 421
“Oh, my God. It’s horrible. I can’t watch.” Emery giggles and hides her face against Chris’s solid chest.
He kisses the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of strawberry shampoo. “Look, there you are! You’re so beautiful and poised.”
At the announcer’s voice, she peeks between her fingers. “Coming up after this commercial break, one of Hollywood’s new power couples speaks out on politics in the bedroom.”
“What the fuck?” she sits up, looking at him in horror. “In the bedroom? My mother is watching this?” She swats his arm. “What did you say?!”
“Jesus, kitten, relax. It’s just a soundbite to get attention. I didn’t say anything that would embarrass you.” He pushes an errant curl behind her ear, pulling her back down to him. “Megan was there, she’ll attest to anything I said.”
“Which reminds me; I didn’t really like the press person who helped me that day. If I have to have a personal assistant as part of a ‘power couple,’ I don’t want that one.”
“Done. Maybe you and Megan can meet people next week?”
“Shhh, it’s on,” she says, holding her hand playfully over his mouth.
He can’t hear half the things she said in the interview because she bitched the whole time about how twangy her accent sounded. All he really caught from the interview was a sarcastic but enthusiastic ‘thumbs up’ and the comment she had mumbled under her breath for weeks. “No sane couple should get married in an election year.”
He chuckles at her quip and she laughs at his as well; on camera, he nearly falls out his chair, laughing boisterously, commenting, “Maybe I should have asked more questions before I proposed.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she asks, “You really wouldn’t have let that stop you, would you?”
He kisses the tip of her nose. “Nah; we’ll just agree to disagree.”
She brushes his cheek, his beard soft against her hand. “You know it’s not that. Fundamentally I think we agree on the same things. I just don’t like either person claiming they know what’s best. Too bad moving to Canada isn’t an option.”
He shakes his head. “Helluva a commute for us to work in Georgia, kitten.”
“Chris, is my Southern drawl that noticeable?”
Chuckling, he wraps his arms around her tighter, affecting his own practiced accent to match hers, “Yea, darlin, it is and it’s one of the first things I loved about you.”
Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom