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”
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