An Emery & Chris story
*a Chris Evans fan fic*
Chris and Emery spend their anniversary together in a crowded house with family
Warnings: NSFW Language, Adult Situations, Oral Sex, Loving Couple SMUT, anal fingering
Word Count 4377
“Oh, holy hell. I think my ovaries just exploded. What are you doing?”
Chris rocks the sweet baby girl in his arms and turns to Emery. “What does it look like we’re doing? We’re making breakfast.”
“She said a bad word,” whispers the little girl against Chris’s neck.
Smiling down at her and winking at Emery, he says “You’re right. She did. What do you think we should do about it?”
The little girl claps her hands together and giggles, “She should get a spankin’!”
“Hear that, Em? Later, you should get a spankin’,” He wiggles his eyebrows at Emery and she holds back her laughter. “No bad words in this kitchen.”
Emery holds her arms out to the the little but she shakes her head and snuggles tighter against Chris’s chest. He chuckles and kisses the top of her head. “Are you gonna spend the day in my arms?”
“Uh-huh,” the little girl giggles, running her hands over the top of his freshly shaved head. “It’s skitchy. Like your face.”
“Ah, honey, I’m glad my face is skitchy again,” he chuckles, rubbing his cheek against the girl’s delicate skin.
Chris flips the pancakes before turning his attention back to Emery. “Good morning, beautiful… Hey, sweet pea. I’m gonna sit you right here for a minute.” He sits the blonde angel on the counter next to the pancake batter. “Don’t wiggle; I don’t want you to fall and get hurt, okay?” He taps her on the nose before pulling Emery tight into his arms.
He quickly licks his lips in anticipation, his eyes lighting up at her quick smile, whispering, “Happy Anniversary, jelly bean,” as their mouths collide. His plump red lips push over hers, his tongue teasing his way in between hers, flicking against hers, minty fresh. Brushing his nose against hers, he dips his posture lower to greet her easier, pulling her up on her tiptoes at the same time. His hand spans across her tiny cheek as he holds Emery’s face delicately, his other hand tight around her waist. He releases her mouth and goes in for another.
Her tongue graces the tip of his and it’s like electricity between them. She wraps her arms around his tapered waist, pushing under the elastic band of his plaid pajama bottoms and squeezes the top of his ass cheeks while Chris deepens the kiss. She can feel his rising body heat pressing against her belly as her mouth opens wider for his searing kisses.
“Hey! Not in front of my kid! Get a room!”
Emery and Chris jump apart as Emery’s younger sister Mackenzie enters the kitchen. She doubles over in laughter when her daughter jumps too before exclaiming, “What’s burning?”
“Oh shit,” Chris grumbles, hiding his blush from his future sister-in-law.
“That’s a bad word, Mister Chris.” She shakes her finger at him, succumbing to a fit of giggles when he playfully bites it.
“Shame, sis. Not even married yet. Don’t be groping him like that,” Mackenzie teases.
Throwing out the burnt pancakes, Chris grumbles under his breath, “This isn’t really what I had planned for our anniversary, babe.”
“I know,” Emery shrugs, sweeping her niece Dakota into her arms. “But it was really sweet of you to rent this house for us all to come to so we could get out of the path of the storm in Savannah.”
“Have you seen the news yet? Is it bad?” Mackenzie as she pours herself a cup of coffee and Emery indicates she doesn’t know. “Hey, man. You really wanna make pancakes for everyone? Dad said last night he’d just take us all out for breakfast.”
“I didn’t hear that; but I promised this one,” he tilts his head towards the little one reaching out to him, “a Mickey Mouse shaped pancake. And I always make good on promises to pretty girls.” He winks at Emery as he steals Dakota back into his arms, telling her to keep her little feet tight to his body so she doesn’t get hurt.
“Did I hear someone say pancakes?” Dawson asks as he bounces into the room. “Can I have one?”
Chris continues pouring the batter in the hot skillet, balancing the little girl on his hip while his nephew- to- be waits for his mother’s answer. “Fine, you can each have one, but when Grandpa takes us out for breakfast you only get fruit and yogurt since you already ate, alright?”
“Yes!” The little boy high -fives Chris and proudly shows off his new Captain America tennis shoes, already dressed for the day. “Aunt Emery said you would take us to the pumpkin patch today, is that right?”
“Yup Little Man, that’s the plan, but not till later, closer to dark, alright? This resort has a bonfire and hayride later tonight.”
“No ghost stories though, right? I don’t wike scary stuff,” Dakota says.
Chris tickles her belly laughing at her use of the word “wike” just like his niece and nephews although she has no particular trouble with any of her word sounds other than her distinct Southern drawl. He secretly hopes like hell his children one day sound like their mother and not his Boston brogue. “No ghost stories.”
As more of the family file through the kitchen to get their morning coffees, plans are made to get breakfast and for everyone to attend the local fall fest after eating. Emery’s mother Anita offers to clean the mess Chris made while he and Emery get ready for the day. Before he can head to the room for a shower, her father pulls him aside quietly.
“Thank you again Chris for your hospitality. Living along the coast isn’t always an easy thing. I’ve been listening to the news and watching TV. I’m a little worried, and I’m trying to keep everyone busy today.” The furrowed brow on Preston Thomas’s usually relaxed face shows his worry and concern. “But I also don’t want everyone under foot. I’m insisting everyone goes this afternoon, and of course, you and Emery are welcome to join us, but it is your anniversary and I’m trying to get the house empty for a few hours. I know your plans changed too because of the storm. Sure is something with them closing Disney, isn’t it?”
“Yes sir it is; I think I read they hadn’t done that for a storm since 2004. You really don’t mind if Emery and I stay back this morning? I think she wanted to see some of the craft vendors? Maybe we could meet up with everyone later.”
“Son, I think that’s a fine plan.” The older gentleman’s Southern voice booms through the hallway as the others spill from the kitchen and head to their rooms to get ready for the day.
“Good night you two; I’ve left the front door unlocked since Parker and his girlfriend are still out on the Haunted House tour,” Anita announces. Her rolled eyes indicate just how she feels about her youngest son’s girlfriend.
“Yup, sounds good,” Emery smiles. “Good night, Mom.” She waits till her mother is out of the room before whispering to Chris, “God, I thought they’d never leave.”
“Me either,” he whispers back, chuckling at the grin on her face as she leans in for a kiss, feeling her warmth against him in the darkened room.
Her lips taste sweet, like the wine they’ve shared and he pulls her bottom lip between his sucking it in for a quick nip. She giggles and twists on the couch, climbing over him and straddling his thigh, pushing him back against the couch. “Now, Miss Emery. This behavior isn’t very becoming of a Southern belle. Just what do you think you’re doing?”
She looks down at him, her hair cascading down to hide the both of them, a mass of wild curls. A flash of pure wickedness glints in her blue eyes as she begins to unbutton his shirt. “You know, a year ago today, you showed up in my class, ball cap and jeans, big bouquet of flowers, and I thought it was a goddamn joke.” She smiles brightly, leaning to kiss him, tilting his head back to capture his lips better, a playfulness between them. “I thought ‘how could it be he found me, my hero on the big screen?’ Every day for a month, I worried you’d get tired of me and leave-”
“You are rather difficult to put up with- ow!” he helps as she twists his nipple. “That hurt.”
“I’m difficult?” She asks. “Oh, honey,” she shakes her head. “You. You are the difficult one…. You’ve had too many yes people in your life. I’m the ‘no’ you needed.” She giggles, thinking of all the times she has had to tell him no. “But we balance each other. I know your fans think I’m a Mary Sue, but you needed me. Computer science proved it… Thank god for dating websites.”
She struggles with his belt buckle and he shifts on the couch for ease of access as she finally slides it loose. Dragging her fingers down his tight abs she revels in his near perfect body, ready to go back to work any day for his last contractual commitments. Her fingers tease the tiny hairs across his abdomen and a small moan escapes his lips. She tugs at the button on his jeans and pops it loose, turning her hand, palm to his chest as her perfectly manicured fingernails torment along the waist of his Calvins.
“Mary Sue?” he asks.
“A trope girlfriend, too perfect to be true.” Her reach hits its mark and she wraps her hand around his imposing dick, already straining to be free.
“Oh, kitten, you are so perfect; definitely too good to be true,” he sighs, debating watching her hands or leaning his head back against the couch and just melting into her caresses. Car lights shine through the window and he curses. “Shit, Parker’s back! Can we continue this elsewhere?”
In a quick motion Emery pulls off her shirt and tosses it to him. “I’ll be waiting. You get them set-” hearing a commotion on the front sidewalk, she freezes. “Fuck! They’re fighting again. Quick; let’s get down the hallway before we get sucked into their drama.”
Chris throws her shirt back to her, picking up their glasses and bottle of wine before quickly following her to the hallway, whispering, “If all they do is fight, why is he still with her?”
Turning on the light to their bedroom she laughs. “Don’t you remember the drama of being right out of high school and being in love? It’s that age. That’s what they do.”
“It’s gonna fuckin’ wake the whole house,” he complains, placing the wine glasses in her outstretched hands, before locking the door behind them. “And I’m still a little weirded out having sex with you when your father is in the same house with us.”
Shaking her head and giggling, she places the glasses on the dresser. “Now who’s the eighteen year old boy? Newsflash: My dad knows we have sex.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to do it when he’s around,” Chris hisses, wincing when the front door of the house slams shut and the arguing continues in the living room of the rented home.
With her hands on her hips Emery just stares at her fiance. “Christopher fuckin’ Evans, are you kidding me right now?”
“What?” His smile taunts her as he prowls towards her. “You were the one that said you thought we should wait till the wedding; I mean, I can just go take matters into my own hands, so to speak. Do you have a problem with that?”
She chuckles and steps around him as he moves closer. “You wouldn’t do that tonight! I said after this weekend was over…”
“No. I’m okay, I don’t want your little pledge of chastity to be broken… This morning was quite good after everyone left. And I thoroughly cleaned down the kitchen counters while you went for a run…” He licks his lips and smiles at her intake of breath when the cold door brushes up against her back. His voice is low and rumbles between them and he delights in watching her skin start to flush as her breathing speeds up, turned on by his little game of cat and mouse. “I mean, you said so yourself, we didn’t have sex last October 8, why should we do it this year? I believe your exact words were ‘We should never have sex on October 8.’”
Her eyes dilate as he runs his fingertips along the purple lace edging of her bra, goosebumps forming behind the contact. “That was stupid of me,” she whispers. “Why would you listen to me?”
“I was told I’m always supposed to answer the bride with ‘yes, dear.” He leans to her, placing his hand on the door to the left of her ear. Her eyes drop to watch his mouth as he slowly forms his words, teasing her with his pretty pink lips. Catching the tip of his index finger under the strap of her bra, he pulls it towards him, running his fingers along the satin ribbon to her shoulder and sliding it down her arm. “I seem to recall a year ago tonight trapping you against the whiteboard in your classroom.” Looking down he sees the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “And you reacted just like this… and I ached to reach out to touch your freckles.” He skims his palm up her jaw, his thumb gracing across the freckles on her cheek till his hands tangle in her wild red hair just behind her ear. “And I wanted to do this…”
Like a magnetic force pulls her away from the door, she crashes into him, his mouth connecting with hers, winding his fingers in her curls. She sighs beneath him, stretching up on her toes to be closer to him, sliding the unbuttoned shirt from his broad shoulders and pushing it down his arms, squeezing along his impressive biceps while removing the offending article of clothing. She rubs her leg up against his as their mouths silently continue their dance, greedily lunging for one another. He grabs under her thigh and holds it to him, pushing her back into the door, pinning her there and pushing his hard cock against her exposed belly. The door rattles from his thrusts and he spins her around, lifting her off the ground in the process and carrying her to the bed. Gently he tosses her in the middle and smiles as she bounces on the bed. His concentration is broken briefly as he hears the angry sounds of the younger couple move to the kitchen and when he focuses back on his beautiful fiance she has stripped herself naked. “So we’re having sex on October eighth?”
“Ask me each year; this year we are.” Giggling she sits up on her knees with her hands on her hips, her lovely breasts on prominent display in the darkly lit room. Her eyes shine as she watches him push his Calvins and jeans down his muscular thighs. He steps out of them quickly and crawls to the center of the bed in front of her.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, wrapping his arms around her waist as she scoots closer to straddle his thigh.
“Hi,” she says quietly. “I was kinda wanting to ride this thigh out in the living room before we were rudely interrupted.”
Shaking his head at her silliness, Chris grabs her hand and places it around his throbbing cock. “Well, this is where we left off with things…” His head drops back as she begins to stroke him and he’s aware of her heat against his muscled leg. “Shit, Em, you’re so wet.”
Her slick dampens his thigh as she begins to slowly hump him, pulling and tugging on his thick cock as her lips hover above his. His eyes are heavy lidded and full of want and her mouth surges forward, commandeering his, claiming his lips for her own. Her eyes remain open in trust, watching as his lush eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. She savors making him weak, listening to the smacking of their lips as she grinds against his leg. Her hands caress the veiny ridges of his taut manhood and she wants to remind him that he belongs to her as much as she belongs to him.
Sliding off his leg, her lips release from his with a sweet pop. She scoots back and lowers herself between his legs, worshiping at his beauty. Her own scent attracts her attention and she drags her tongue across the slick on his leg, kissing and biting along his inner thigh on one side and kneading with her hand on the other, crouched down on her elbows, her ass up in the air.
His hands roam softly but surely over her back, biting back the sounds building within him, knowing there are too many people in the house. His breath is stilted when her tiny hand reaches around his cock again and she shifts forward accepting him into her mouth, warm and inviting. Her tongue swirls over the slit, lapping at his pre-cum and she moans in delight. “Fuck Em, no noises. You know what that does to me,” he tightly whispers.
She pulls off and grins at him wickedly. “Shit, no, kitten.” She plunges her sweet opening down his shaft and hums against him, her body bouncing with her inescapable laughter. “Too many people. And I’m not exactly quiet, come on,” he groans and pleads.
Sliding back and forth on his rod with a renewed passion she continues to make tiny hungry sounds. He caves and relaxes into it, doing his best to keep himself quiet, biting his lip as his hands caress down her back. He arches over her, his chest to her back as his hands cup down over her ass. She’s not playing fair and is quickly driving him to his tipping point as her hands cup his balls while her mouth works him over. Running his hands over her rounded behind, he reaches between her legs and she is nearly dripping with her own need. His touches coax from the back of her throat her own sounds of desire, low and primal. Gathering the wet he can, his hands smooth over her puckered asshole and he bites at her hip, sucking and leaving his mark. She rocks back against his touch, craving it. Slowly he teases her rim and she rocks back on him, slowly releasing his cock from her mouth as he distracts her with his intimate petting.
“Thank you for letting go,” he chuckles against her exposed side. “If this is our last fuck till the wedding night, I wanna be inside you when I come.”
“Think you can play with my asshole and get anything you want from me, is that it?” she giggles, her face buried into the downy bed comforter.
Moving positions behind her, he chuckles as he runs his hand down her spine, teasing with the other around her tight hole. He swats at the tight flesh of her ass and grips it in his fingers, pulling back at the divide between her cheeks for a better peak. Reaching between her legs again, his fingers slide between her folds as he gathers more of her juices. He smiles at her strong exhale of breath as he drags the wet back over her ass, gently plunging his thumb inside. She pushes back against him as he chuckles, “Seems to work that way, kitten.”
She shrugs her shoulders and melts into the bed as he slowly and lovingly fondles her virgin space. As her mewling sounds grow, he is pleased by his kitten and ready for more. He slowly removes his hand, quickly wiping up on her discarded shirt before grabbing her hips and thrusting deep inside her wanting pussy. Their foreplay has left her ready for all of him and no time elapses before she begins thrusting back against him, hitting balls deep. He balances one hand on the bed at her hip and grips her shoulder with the other guiding their lovemaking. Rising up, her palms flat against the bed, Emery reaches between her legs and begins to play with her clit. Her fingertips graze his cock as it pounds against her cunt and her touches push them both over the edge.
Chris can feel her velvet walls tightening around him, surges of desire heating them both. She rises up, wrapping her arm around the back of his neck, her back to his heaving chest. To hold back his desired cries of ecstasy he bites down on her exposed shoulder, her orgasm ripping through her body as she sags against him and with another thrust and quiet grunt his seed pushes into her before he stills. Their bodies wrapped together, a sheen of sweat, rest on the center of the bed momentarily before he slowly lowers them to lay on their side as one conjoined piece. Two separate entities made whole when placed together.
Her contented sighs almost seem like purring and he ponders the random selection he had with the nickname ‘kitten’ for her, but how perfect it is in moments like these. Nibbling below her ear he whispers, “Where do the deep philosophical thoughts come from right after mind blowing sex?”
“No clue,” she sleepily replies, twisting the hair on his arms in her fingertips. His arms are still wrapped tight around them and she knows soon enough she’ll have to remind him to let up with his heavy superhero hold. But for now she is perfectly content to be crushed by her future husband’s weight. “What was it this time Socrates?”
“Something about how we weren’t whole till we found each other… It makes me think of a quote a read once, but damned if my brain can place it right now. Now all I can think is ‘sex, boobs, coming, sleep.’”
Shifting the weight of his arm to rest across her hip, she pulls the bed coverings over them, not even caring they aren’t under the sheets and blankets. “Real deep thinker you are there, dear. Not unlike a cave man.”
“Hey, I’m evolved,” he chuckles, “I let you come first.”
She swats at his arm. “Thanks for that… shhh… this cave woman needs sleep too.”
“I love you, future Mrs. Christopher Evans.”
“Sure thing. I love you too, future Mr. Emery Thomas.”
“I don’t think it works that way,” he chuckles, kissing her neck once again.
Waking to find him facing her, Emery is struck by his beauty. She reaches to caress his soft beard, knowing it will be gone soon for work commitments, but doesn’t want to wake him. She inhales his masculine scent, a smell that is distinctly him and one she now knows isn’t found in any bottle or candle. His form is better than those of the sculpted Greek gods of days gone by. His body is a thing of beauty and she remembers the fangirl days of searching for every possible image, even the ones a fan never admits to searching for. But it is his face that holds her heart. His sweet innocence as he sleeps is one of the true pieces never depicted on film and she relives moments like these when they are apart. His dark lashes against his pale skin. The morning sunlight in the window actually showing the blue veins behind his pale eyelids, a testament to his Irish heritage. The laugh lines around his eyes which seem to deepen each day due to his playful nature and easy humor. The beauty mark on his left cheek. His red slips swollen and bruised from last night’s collisions. His trimmed beard with hints of red and gray hair. His perfect jaw line, almost as though it had been chiseled in marble. She holds back a giggle at the thought that some days it’s the best seat in the house. She blushes at her random sexual thought as her eyes continue to soak him in… The little scar on his neck. The words of wisdom forever stained on his collarbone… He is true Heaven on Earth and he belongs to her.
Barely moving his lips, he whispers, “Are you done memorizing me? Gettin’ kinda creepy.”
Reaching to caress his cheek, she laughs, “Good morning, ass.”
His eyelids flutter open and he raises slightly to kiss her fingertips before they retreat again into her morning space. “I love you too… Hey; remember I was waxing poetic again right before we fell asleep?”
“You mean your deep random thoughts after you came? Yeah; what about it?” she smiles brightly, waiting to hear his thoughts.
“I remembered the quote, and I want you to know October 8th will always be important. Ya ready?”
Emery giggles and strokes his beard, curious as to the words of wisdom she’s about to hear.
“Okay, Mark Twain said it. Something about only having two important days in your life. The day you’re born and the day you know why. I knew the minute I saw you, you were gonna change my world. I was born to love you, Emery Rose.”
Tears well in her blue eyes. Rolling closer to him, she kisses him tenderly before whispering, “Christopher Robert, that may be the sweetest thing you have ever said to me.”
Smiling like a love sick puppy, he asks, “Really? Cause I really need a good hook for the wedding vows… You told me I had to use my own words. Can I use Mark Twain’s and add to them?”
She tugs his Saint Christopher’s medallion. “Like I said, you’re an ass.”
“But I’m yours.”
“Yea, I know… Till the end of the line…” She rises from the bed and pulls on his shirt, tugging it down to cover her ass, before peeking out the door into the hallway. With the coast clear, she darts into the hallway.
Chris’s laughter rings through the lower part of the house when he hears her father’s voice complimenting her in his shirt and her stuttered response.
Included gifs are from the TV show “Under the Dome”
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