Mrs. Evans’ Boys

Mrs. Evans boys cover jan 27 2016.jpg

Mrs. Evans’ Boys

A Mrs. Evans story

*A Chris Evans fan fiction*

By avenger-nerd-mom

Future Chris helps take care when one of the kids is sick and creates a simple solution to a little problem

Warnings: Daddy Chris, fluff, sick kid, breathing treatment

Word count 950

This Mrs. Evans story is told from Chris’s point of view, a change from other stories in the series

Author Note:  I’ve been sick A LOT lately, which accounts for several of my stories lately being about sickness and the healing powers of Mr. Evans.  When I had to get a breathing treatment done, I remembered a family moment from long ago that had slipped my memory…  with author’s license for embellishing a few details, this is really the tale of how my Hubs got Kid to take his breathing treatments.

Through the crack in the door, Chris listens to the cough in the little boy’s chest and it pains him to hear it.  His big Daddy heart just can’t take it when the boys are sick, but he knows it’s even harder on his wife, so he steps up to the plate.

He steps into the room and asks, “Whatchya doin’, Bud?”

He knows she hates that nickname, always telling him the child and the dog cannot have the same nickname.  But it’s too late to get rid of it now.

“Just colorin’, Daddy.  Nonna Lisa brought me a new coloring book this morning.”

“Oh, she did; that was nice, we’ll-”

“Yea, yea, Dad; I already thanked her,” he rolls his blue eyes, already trained well in the art of appreciation from his mother.

Chris holds in his laughter.  “Ok, then.  Hey, son, do you know why your mother sent me up here?”

The little boy throws the covers over his head and snuggles down under the blankets.  “‘Cuz I was bad and it’s time for more medicine.”

Chris’s heart cracks.  He shoves the books to the side and sits on the edge of the bed, setting his package on the floor and pulling back the blanket.  The tiny face staring back at him is like looking through his mother’s old photo albums.  An exact carbon copy of himself at that age.  “You know we don’t say ‘bad.’  You weren’t bad; you just got scared and acted out in a way that’s not okay.”

“Mommy was so mad at me, she was crying,” the tow-headed toddler explains, sitting up and leaning closer to his own personal hero.

Picking the little one up, Chris sets the boy in his lap and wraps the blanket around them both.  “Bud, here’s a secret.  Mommy doesn’t like it when she has to take you to the doctor.  I usually do it, don’t I?”  The little boy nods.  “It makes her sad when she knows you have to get shots and things.  It made her sad today that you didn’t like the breathing treatment.  When you started crying, she was sad with you, not mad at you, and that’s why she was crying too.”

The boy can’t believe what his father says.  His face is incredulous.  “Really?  She wasn’t mad ‘cuz I didn’t wike the medicine?”

Chris chuckles at the use of “wike.”  The little one doesn’t even have a speech impediment but it’s such a part of the family vernacular, he uses it anyway.  Chris kisses the top of his head, and the fever is still raging.  “She was worried about you… I’m worried about you, and your little brother is missing his best friend.  And Dodger is about to go crazy since you can’t run around the yard with him.”

“Daddy, Dodger’s an old man, he doesn’t run and play like he used to,” the boy interjects.

Chris’s heart officially breaks in two.  He chuckles, “Bud, I know, but let’s not say that.  Mommy can’t handle it if I start crying too, and you and Dodger are best buds and the idea… Well. Ok.”

Chris stops himself.  Focus. Kid.  Sick.  Medicine.  Worry about the aging dog later.

Chris changes the subject.   “You know how Mom never lets you watch TV in your room?”  The tired little one snuggles against his chest and tugs on the hairs on his arm.  “Well, this room has TV and I brought you a treat.”

“I don’t wike this room,” he says quietly, coughs shaking his body again.

Rubbing his back, Chris replies.  “I know, Bud, it’s not your room, but you get to stay in the cool guest room for a few days so you don’t get your brother sick.  And I’m gonna stay here with you all night, and I brought a movie you might like.  I watched it with Grandpa Bob when I had to stay home sick when I was a little boy.”  Chris reaches down to the floor, and hands his oldest son the gift bag.

The boy pulls out a movie, Star Wars- Episode IV and a Darth Vader mask- a special one.  Chris took time in the garage to drill a hole through the mask in order to fit the tube for the breathing treatment.  “There’s a guy in the movie and he wears this mask, and he makes a funny breathing sound, just like you do.  And you know since you don’t feel well, you’ve been kinda mean and grumpy?  Well, he is too.  Maybe if he took his breathing treatments, he wouldn’t feel so bad.”

“Daddy, that’s dumb.  Not breathing right doesn’t make you mean.  It just makes me sleepy.  Maybe this guy needs a nap.”

Chris laughs heartily at the child’s logic and the little boy bounces off his lap, falling face first onto the bed and he giggles as his Daddy tickles him, stopping when the coughing takes over.  “Alright, come on.  Sit back up.  Let’s do this.  It only takes five minutes, and then Mommy said we could have ice cream later.”

“Fine.  But I won’t wike it,” the feisty blonde claims as his best friend in the whole world places the Darth Vader mask over his face and gets the treatment ready to administer.

#

Hours later you check back on your boys, and Dodger raises his head as if to say ‘I got this.’ They are sound asleep, curled up next to one another and the Darth Vader mask is on the floor next to the empty ice cream bowls.  Not a peep.  Little one hadn’t fussed once about the breathing treatment when Daddy did it.  Good thing he’s scheduled to be home for the next ten days because you know you can’t do this without him.

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

Healing Hands

healing hands USE jan 15 2017.jpg

A Chris Evans fan fic

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris and his girlfriend get caught in an ice storm while on a romantic getaway.  Chris is worried about her health and does everything he can think of to help her feel better.  If he doesn’t Dodger might just attack him

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, fluff, concern, NSFW, drinking, anal play, daddy kink, dom/domme behaviors, finger fucking, penetration, pull out method, no condoms

Word count: 4212

He sneaks up on her quietly as she sits in front of the fireplace, sweetly whispering to Dodger in her lap.  He cringes when he hears the cough rumble in her chest and she heaves to catch her breath.  He winces at her perceived pain.  “Oh, babe, I’m so sorry.  This isn’t really what I had in mind for our romantic getaway.”

He sits quickly and offers up his apologies.  Dodger lifts his head, looking at his owner, his eyes pleading with him to help her.  “I hear ya, Bud.  There’s no medicine in the place.  I searched every cabinet and drawer.  All I could find was this.”  He holds up the dusty bottle of whiskey and two small jelly jars he found in the kitchen.

Her burst of laughter breaks into coughs and he pats her back.  Her eyes water and she giggles quietly.  “Likely story.  You’ve been wanting to get me drunk from the minute we started dating and I told you I’ve never even had a shot.”

He kisses the tip of her nose, blushing at the truth to her statement.  “Whiskey is on old-time medication, it’ll definitely sooth the pain.”

“Or I’ll be so drunk, I won’t care.”  She laughs, caressing the side of his cheek, scratching at his beard.  “You need a trim.”

Chris shrugs.  “Ah, I gotta shave it off soon enough.  I’m doing the mountain man thing this week, just for you, babe.”  He stretches out his arms to show off the tight Henley and flannel plaid and she leans against his chest.

“I love my man in plaid,” she chokes out and he caresses her hair back over her shoulder and rubs down her spine as another series of coughs wracks through her little body.

He feels just awful. Their time together is always so rushed and sporadic.  She hadn’t been able to get away at the holidays, so they’d compromised with a mid winter getaway to a cabin owned by a friend of his.  He wasn’t expecting an ice storm to hit, followed by a large snow.  The power lines had snapped on their second morning in the cabin, and now on the third night her cold had turned worse.  He’d tried earlier to get the car out, but there was no where to go.  All the shops in the village down the mountain were closed and they were pretty secluded from the outside world.  Fortunately his phone service worked, and he’d been able to inform friends and family they were safe and sound, but he really was concerned for the rattle in her chest and wanted to get her back to civilization as soon as possible.

“Stop thinking.  You’re too loud.  I’m fine,” she wheezes.  “Pour me a shot.  Let’s do this.”

She sits up and rolls her eyes as his look of concern takes on a mischievous grin.

“Go ahead.  Rub your hands together gleefully like the villain in old cartoon about to steal the innocent virtue of the fair maiden.  I know you’re dying to,” she teases.

He throws his head back in a hearty laugh, but stops when her laughter brings on another series of deep coughs.  He shakes his head, “Stop that!”  He rubs her arms and scolds her.  “Don’t laugh at me; it makes you cough.”

“Telling me not to laugh at you is like telling Dodger not to bark at birds in the yard.  I can’t help it.  Your laughter is infectious. It’s one of the things I love about you.”  She dips her head and smiles up at him sweetly.  “It’s one of the first things about you when we met that I was attracted to.”

“Not my charming personality or my bulging muscles?”  He flexes his arm for her and she turns up her nose.

She shakes her head and holds up her jelly glass. “Not too much… No. None of those things.  Those things actually make you a dick sometimes,” she giggles.  “It was watching you at my niece’s party laugh and play with the kids on the swingset for an hour and you never wore out or got tired.  That’s my Chris.  That’s my fantasy and the man I want.  The Hollywood you can go to hell.” She coughs again and smiles wryly.  “But it’s time to get back to work.  You’re getting soft.  Been sitting on your ass too long.”

“Man, you really know how to kick a man, don’t you,” he chuckles.  “Yes, ma’am.  On it.  Back to work ASAP.”  He salutes her before pouring a fair amount of the dark amber liquid into her glass.  “How is it you’ve made it to this point in your life, you were a college sorority girl, and you’ve never been drunk or had a shot before?”

“Smart life choices.”  She taps him on the nose with each word and he smiles.  “Oh my God, this fuckin’ stinks.  It’s like paint thinner.” She complains and screw ups her face.

He smiles at her expression and his heart flutters.  “Don’t smell it.” He pours himself a larger drink.  “Just knock it back.”

She stares at the liquid and swishes it around.  Dodger lifts his head to watch her and he even pulls back from the smell and brushes his paw over his nose.  “Right, bud?  Can you believe Daddy willingly drinks this shit?”

“Fuck, babe.  Don’t call me Daddy unless you mean it,” Chris moans in frustration and adjusts his jeans to prove his point.

She chuckles and does her best to hold in her cough, trying to hide her blush.  “Damn you, I didn’t mean it like that.”  She tosses her head back and her curls cascade down her back as she lifts the glass to her lips and downs it all in one choked gulp.  She sputters and lifts her head upright and cringes at the taste, wiping her mouth on the back of her wrist.  “Fuuuuck, that burns.”

Chris lifts the glass to his lips.  He watches her closely as her eyes follow his movements, and he chugs his shot down quickly.  He laughs as she holds her hand to her chest, still shuddering from the burn of the whiskey.

“That’s awful,” she whispers.  “Why?  Why would you chose to drink that for fun?”

Chris moves closer to her and Dodger growls at him lowly.  “Hey man, she’s my girl too.  Watch it.  I’m not gonna hurt her, relax Bud.”  Dodger bares his teeth and Chris taps him on the nose.  “Enough of that.  You go.”

Dodger nudges her hand and she tugs on his ear gently.  “It’s okay, you’re not in trouble.  Go sleep.”  The protective mutt rises from his spot and stretches slowly, irritating Chris on purpose.  She coughs and chuckles and taps the dog playfully on his hindquarters to get him moving faster.  “Go now,” she commands and he totters away, his back legs stiff from his interrupted nap.

“Damn dog,” he grumbles.  “Likes you more than he likes me.”  Chris adjusts the pillows behind him, and leans back against the couch.  “Are you warm enough?” he asks as he pours two more shots, handing her another.

She shakes her head no, trying to refuse the little glass. Chris doesn’t give her choice. “You’re still coughing.  Tonight it’s not meant to be fun.  It’s to help you get better until we can get to the store or a doctor and get you some medicine.”  He holds the glass to her until she willingly takes it and chokes it back.

“No more.”  She spits out, scrunching up her face again.  She covers her hand over her mouth and breaths in.  “God, it’s on my breath.  It stinks.”

“Hush,” he drinks his glass and gently pulls her to him.  “You complain a lot.”  She rests against his chest and plays with the buttons on his shirt.

She bows her head sheepishly.  “I’m sorry.  I’m kinda ruining our romantic getaway, aren’t it?  You’ve done everything.  All I’ve done is sleep, cough and sneeze.  You’ve been chopping firewood- very sexy to watch from the window, I might add- gathering food we can cook over the fireplace.  Thank god for hotdogs and popcorn,” she giggles. “And I’m glad you carried the mattress down here.  The loft would be too cold.”

She reaches her arm up and pulls another blanket off the couch from behind him and he helps adjust it over the top of them.  He doesn’t want to admit to her that he’s too warm under her body and the blankets and the heat of the blazing fire.  After the blanket is settled, he tugs under her ass and shifts her body higher against his, resting his denim covered cock between her legs.  She’s weightless on top of him and he loves being her big, strong protector.

He wishes she could see what he sees right now.  Under the haze of a slight fever, her eyes warm from the liquid fire she ingested and glints of hazel and green sparkle back at him as she searches his face.  Her lips are plump and ripe for the taking.  And the smell of the whiskey on her breath begs to be savored.  He pulls her close and kisses her tenderly, not wanting to take all her air but needing to share his with her.  Her lips part so she can breath and he continues to caress her bottom lip between his as a breathy moan escapes the back of her throat.

She snakes her hands from between them and wraps one around his neck and slides the other lower, down the row of buttons on his shirt, stopping at the waist of his pants..  His bottom lip resting against hers, he whispers.  “No, you need sleep.  We can play later.”

She whines her complaint and he chuckles, kissing her again.  She moves her hand and grabs his hip, sighing.  “I really am sleepy.”  She kisses him again, sucking in all of his air to her desperate lungs before separating with a smack.  “Thank you for breathing for me,” she chuckles.

“Anytime, sweetheart.” He kisses her forehead before gently pushing her to the side, snuggling her next to his body and adjusting her in the crook of his arm.  “You realize you haven’t coughed in nearly five minutes?”

“Yes, fine, oh wise one.  The whiskey worked.  You were right.  I’ll cross-stitch it on a pillow for you.” The little blonde pokes him in the ribs.  “Don’t get too used to hearing me say that.  But I’ll make you a commemorative keepsake.  I’ll date it and everything.”

“Well, damn.  You’re rambling like a woman who might be a little tipsy.”  He laughs warmly, the shake of his body jiggling both of them.  His foot wiggles from under the blankets.

“Shut up and kick off your socks.  I know you want to,” she laughs, snuggling up into his neck and inhaling deeply.  “You smell so good.  Like cologne, firewood and snow.  Better than a candle,” she mumbles.  “So sleepy…”

Dodger raises his head and gives a happy bark before resting his head on his paws again, curled in front of the hearth.  Chris tips his head to the dog, indicating they both have watch over their girl for the night.  Chris tries not to shift away from her damp breath on his neck but he knows he needs to keep her warm through the night.  He’s worried about her becoming more sick before the morning.

#

Hours later, the wheeze has returned to her lungs and her chest heaves for breath.  He can feel each labored cough as they slowly build again.  The fire has died down, and Dodger is curled up on her other side to keep her warm.  Chris slides out from under her and smiles at the quiet whistle she makes from her congestion.  She would be so embarrassed, but he finds it just  adorable.  She’s always so tough and strong and this vulnerable state is endearing.  She’d probably punch his arm if he told her, so he’ll keep his thoughts to himself.  While covering his feet with his socks, Dodger lifts his head and yawns.  Chris puts his finger to his lips, as if the dog really understands.  The pup lays his head back down over her hip and whimpers quietly.  Chris pats the mutt’s head affectionately, knowing he’s leaving her in good care.

The power is still out.  A quick check of his phone tells him the time, but to conserve the battery he shuts it back down.  Piling on the old army jacket and silly fur hat he found earlier in the day, he heads out to the back porch to bring in more firewood.  He is startled by a doe and her fawn foraging under the tree and stands to watch for a moment before they run off across the valley.   He’s pretty sure he hears coyotes baying in the distance. The air is cold and stings his lungs while he quickly gathers enough wood to last till sunrise.

Returning to the chilled living room, he quietly places the wood in the fire and stokes the flames, Dodger and his love sound asleep.  He makes a stop in the bathroom and changes into comfortable sweatpants before foraging in the kitchen of the small hand crafted cabin.  Taking a water bottle from the cooler he finds her more aspirin.  Nibbling on the chocolate cake they brought from the bakery, he realizes he’s not really in top shape to go back to work.  A few more days of splitting firewood should do the trick.  Through the cold night air seeping through the chinked paneled walls he can hear trees bending and cracking under the pressure of the ice.

Stepping into the living room-

“Sweet Jesus.”  His heart stops at the sight in front of the fireplace.

Her bare bottom is raised up in the air, as she rests on her knees, face down on the mattress, her arms folded over above her head.  At least twelve thoughts- only twelve?- roam through his mind and he thanks God quietly she is faithful about attending her yoga class.  A quick look around the room has Dodger in his kennel, out of sight, and the jelly glasses lined up on the hearth, hers empty and his ready to go. Trying to find his voice and not sound as off balance as she’s thrown him, he murmurs lowly.  “Can I do something to help you?”

“I can’t sleep.  I thought you might be able to wear me out,” she offers, turning her head to him, her voice low and quiet in return.

He kneels on the mattress behind her, his eyes on the prize, willingly given to him.  “Are you sure?”  He asks tenderly, wanting her so badly but knowing she isn’t really physically up to anything zapping what little strength she has left.  His hand caresses gently over her right cheek and her skin rolls under his touch.

Licking her lips, she sticks her tongue seductively between her teeth, before breathily supplying her response.  “Yes, Daddy, make me better.  Use your hands to heal me.”

His own breath catches and he grips her flesh.  He instantly springs to attention turned on by her words, a game they’ve never played before.  He raises his eyebrow to her and she winks back, giggling and hiding her cough.  Closer now to the fire, he sees she’s added their favorite lotions to the pile of her clothes next to the whiskey bottle.  Daddy?  How drunk is she?  “My pet,” he intones, using a new nickname for this little foray into a darker world, “are you sure?”

She rolls her eyes at him and shifts forward on her arms, raising her ass higher.  “We already have a few rules, Daddy.  If I start coughing too much, or can’t handle it, I’ll call ‘recess’ tonight.  And no, I’m not drunk.  Just feeling very warm, from the booze, the fever, the fire. You.  We haven’t been together in weeks, Chris. First we were apart, then my period, and now I’m sick.  I just need it, please?”  She reaches back and squeezes his thigh, one of their signals to continue.

He reaches for the bottle of lotion and pours some in his hands, warming it with friction as he rubs his palms together.  The fire crackles and pops, the dancing flames reflected in the warmth of her eyes.  He takes the poured liquor and savors the taste, hot on his tongue.  He pours another shot for later as a filthy idea she just might like pops in his mind. He smiles and shakes his head as she hiccups quietly.  “Not drunk, you say?”

“Oh, maybe a little buzzed,” she confesses.  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want this, or that I’m not aware of what’s going on.  I had the forethought to put the dog up, get lotion and condoms.  Give me some credit, man.  Control issues.  You and me both.  If you think I’m not game, stop.  But I know what I want, and right now, I really just want you to finger fuck me.”

He chuckles.  Strong and independent.  Just the way he likes her.  Loves her.  “Why?”

She coughs and he rubs over her back as the sound subsides.  She chokes out a quick breath before telling him what he needs to hear.  “I saw you light up when I was talking about our puppy parenting.”  She moans quietly as his hands run over the curve of her ass and she rolls with his caress.  “I can give up my need for control so you can have your fun, that’s what loving couples do, Chris.  I want to give this to you.  So, tonight, while I’m tipsy, I’ll be your pet and you can be my Daddy.”  She rocks back on her heels and rises to kiss him.  “Play, have fun, babe. I love you.”

He kisses her lips tenderly at first before growing in intensity.  When she’s struggling for breath, he releases his hold of her mouth and gently pushes her back to her resting position.  As her breathing returns to normal, as normal as it’s been the last few days, he continues to rub over her.  She settles in and his hands work magic over her skin.  Work tension and family stresses leave her and they listen as the wind picks up and freezing rain pelts the cabin again.  He murmurs to her, telling her all the things he loves about her.  She moans and whines happily and he loses all track of time.

Taking another shot, he wonders if she’s half asleep.  A slight cough answers his question as he smiles, holding the warm liquor in his mouth.  He bends over her, ripe and ready and pulling her flesh apart, he swallows the heated whiskey before licking his tongue gently across her pretty pink rim.  She gasps in shock, then practically purrs in excitement, while he kisses gently, teasing with his tongue, pushing her tender opening.  She spreads her legs for him and with one hand he wraps around her waist.  He blows warm air across her sweet little hole, reaching under her to slide his fingers between her wet, aching lips.  He sets a slow rhythm, nibbling on the flesh of her rounded ass, grazing her pussy with his fingertips.  Her breathing builds and she coughs a few times, humming her pleasure and fisting at the sheets.

“Please, more,” she whines.

He soaks in her pliancy and teases along the entrance to her cunt.  She’s dripping with desire and he wants her so badly.  “Please, what?” he growls, his hand slapping across her ass.

She chuckles, her eyes watching the fire blaze.  “Daddy, please, I need to feel you inside me; your healing touch.”

He swiftly brushes over the tight bundle of nerves found hidden between her walls and she jumps in his hands.  He bites at her hip and kneads her toned skin. Another swipe through the wet, and he pulls some out to tease around her clit, rolling the swollen button between his fingers.  She whines and rocks back in his hands, grinding against his palm.  Darting forward, he penetrates her with two strong fingers and pushes to her inner depths as she cries out a happy sound.  “Fuck, me Chris,” she pleads.  “I wanna come in your hands.”

“You’re so wet, my pet,” he rolls his eyes at the unintended rhyme.  “It won’t take long will it?  Tell me.”

“No, no it won’t,” she admits.  “I hate playing without you; I need this.  Daddy,” she giggles.

“That’s right, you shouldn’t play without me.  You should save yourself and only come for me,” he commands lowly.

“Then do it; make me come.”  Her body ricochets against his intrusions and her breasts sting against the friction of the mattress.

His fingers scissor through her slick, pounding again and again.  Her cunt tightens around him and as her pleasure rises her vocals echo in the small room.  He leans over her, kissing her back and pulling himself from his sweatpants with a swift, forceful tug, drops of precum rolling down her backside.  As she begins to come she shifts onto her stomach and grinds his hand into the mattress, pushing her clit against the bed.  He falls over her as her body stills and she silently finishes her rolling orgasm, pulsing and pulling his fingers in as far as they’ll reach.  He bites at her shoulder and she turns her head, searching for his mouth.  She lifts up for a kiss as the quaking stops and he covers her mouth, capturing her final sounds of completion.

Her body begins to convulse in shakes and he realizes she’s coughing again, but she requests he doesn’t move.  “I like feeling you on me.  Warm and safe, Daddy.”  She smiles between coughs, before she finally rolls to the side and pushes him off.  “You always make me feel so loved, so protected.”

Her eyes are drawn to his exposed cock, and he shakes his head ‘no.’  “No,” he chuckles, trying to put it away.  “You’re too sick.  You can’t stop coughing.”  He pauses so she can hear herself and he can prove his point. “I’m not gonna ask you to take care of me.”

She reaches for his stiff cock and says, “You’re not asking, and I appreciate that, but I need this too…”

She tugs up quickly on his shirt, and his nipples harden in the cold morning air.  She pushes him back against the pile of pillows against the couch, and straddles him quickly.  “I’m done playing and begging.  Now I’m taking what’s mine.”

His head falls back and roars with laughter as she straddles him and sheaths him.  “It’s all yours babe, my pet, every inch of it.” He looks down to see he’s totally hidden inside her and it’s so fuckin’ sexy.  He quietly whispers his thoughts to her as he tucks her hair back and holds her face in his large hands as she rides him.  Up and down, controlling him now, she quickly pulls him to his edge.  Teetering there, he pushes her over, pulling out and tugging, long ropes of creamy white cum on her tight stomach.

He collapses next to her and she winds her fingers in his hair.  “You cheated,” she coughs.  “That’s not what I wanted.”

He kisses her shoulder, and mumbles sleepily.  “Wasn’t covered… unless we’re ready for a little one to be calling me ‘daddy…’”

She traces her fingers along his profile.  Her voice dances with a gleeful joy.  “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…”

He rises up on his elbow and smiles down at her.  He grabs his shirt and wipes up his mess across her belly.  “Now I know you’re drunk,” he laughs.  “Just a month ago you didn’t want to talk about this.”

“Things change,” she shrugs her shoulders and her eyes seek his in the firelight.  “Just a month ago I didn’t know how tender and calm you could be in a crisis.  It’s like you just passed a test or something.  You’ve taken such good care of me, so worried about me and doing everything to comfort me and make me better.  Maybe it is time someone really call you ‘Daddy.’”

Dodger barks and growls, pacing in the kennel.  “Diaper changes, letting the dog out in the middle of the night, guess it wouldn’t be that different,” he jokes.

“The man with the plan and healing hands,” she giggles and coughs.  She sits up and pulls on her tank top.  She pours another shot of whiskey to calm her cough and her face reflects the bitter taste.

Chris chuckles, his hand tight on her thigh.  “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“Dodger needs out and I gotta use the restroom,” she blushes, searching the pile of clothes for her panties.

“You’re not going out there.  I heard coyotes, and it’s raining.”  He rises next to her and kisses her neck with care.  He crawls to the hearth and puts another log on the fire.  “I’ll take care of him; you take care of you.”  He hands her the water and aspirin.

She smiles kindly, and teases in a light tone, “Yes, Daddy.

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

In Sickness and In Health

in-sickness-and-health-jan-12-2017

In Sickness and In Health

A Mrs. Evans story

*a Chris Evans fan fic*

By avenger-nerd-mom

A future Chris Evans takes care of his sick wife

Warnings: Language, Fluff

Word count: 1201

This Mrs. Evans story is told from Chris’s point of view, a change from other stories in the series.

**************

Standing in the door way, he watches her stumble across the room, her sleep mask still down over her eyes.  He can see the flush on her skin.  A fever rising that has nothing to do with him. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

She literally jumps before her hand flies up to pull off the mask and she wheezes, “Jesus fuckin’-” cough, cough, cough- “Christ!  Chris!  You scared me!” -cough, cough, cough- “What are you doing here?” She holds her hands to her chest and clears her throat, obviously in pain.

“What do you think I’m doing?  Get back in bed.  I came home to take care of my wife.”  He crosses the room and sits tentatively on the end of the bed.  Setting the paper sack in his hand next to him, he grabs her arm and gently pulls her to him.

She rolls her eyes at him.  “Fuck that.  I’m dying.  I’m not having sex with you,” she laughs between coughs.

“Jesus, is that all I am to you, a fuck toy?”  He smiles.  “I don’t wanna have sex with you.  You smell like Vicks and throat spray.”  He wraps his hands around her and caresses the back of her thighs, resting his face against her belly.  He tries not to inhale too deeply because his statement was no lie.  But he can’t keep his hands off her in her tight tank top and short shorts that barely hold in her ass cheeks.  He’s missed her.  He’s missed this.

She bends and kisses the top of his head, tugging on the long straggly ends on the nape of his neck.  “Seriously,” she whispers trying to catch her breath.  “I wasn’t expecting you for another two weeks.  Why are you here?”

“I turned it over to Mackie.  There’s a reason I have an assistant director I can depend on.  When I heard in your voice last night how sick you really were, I made arrangements to get home as quick as possible.  I’ve been transferring planes for the last 8 hours.  I stocked up on supplies; here, sit.”  He turns her around slowly and spreads his legs so she can rest on his thigh.  Wrapping one arm around her to hold her in place, he forages through the bag on the bed, showing her things he brought.  “I just called it in; the doc said since the kids were sick last week, you probably had it now too, so here’s a Z-pak.”  He tosses it on the bed.  “The cough drops you like; more throat spray; more Vicks.”  With each item, he just throws it on the bed behind him.  “Aspirin, gum, condoms,” he wiggles his eyebrow at her, “and the piece de résistance,” Chris mocks with a french accent, “mashed potatoes.”

Her eyes well with tears.  “You did all this for me?” She takes the small styrofoam container from his hands.

“I did.  I even remembered to bring a spork.”  He pulls the plastic wrapped serving spoon from his back pocket.  He hands it to her, but she doesn’t open it yet.

“Won’t that cut back production on the movie; cost you more money?”  Her voice is choked as she fights back her tears and tries to hold in another coughing fit.

“Fuck the movie.  It’s just a job.  You’re what’s important; you and the kids.  You know that.”  His hands sweep across her face and tucks back her unruly hair before wiping away the tears.  “We’re a team.  This doesn’t work if you’re sick.  You keep it all spinning when I’m away.  I gotta take care of you, so you can take care of everything else.”

She can’t hold her tears in any longer and wraps her arms around his neck, finally letting loose all her stress and frustrations in the tears she cries.  “Oh, babe, I’m so glad you’re home.  I love you so much.  I didn’t know I needed this,” she whispers, coughing again, her breath warm on his neck.

He rubs her back, giving the occasional pat, “It’s okay, baby, I’m here now.  Everything’s gonna be good; let it all out.”

She cries for another moment or two before the coughing overtakes her.  She pulls back and hands him the food and runs to the bathroom.  He chuckles when he hears her blowing her nose.  “Ugh,” she whines.  “I look like shit.  I haven’t seen you in three weeks and this is what you get.” Her voice echoes against the tiles and she shuffles back into the bedroom, falling face first on the bed.  Lifting her head she eyes the clock on the nightstand.  “Oh, shit,” she sneezes loud enough to wake the dead.  And again.  And again before laughing.  “Ah, fuck, I’m a mess.  Honey, can you go get the kids?”

Chris pushes all the items from the store onto the floor and crawls up on his knees beside her and begins to massage her back.  Pushing his palms into her he rotates down her spine in small circular patterns and she quietly moans her approval.  “You still aren’t getting any…  the kids, Chris, someone has to get the kids from school?  And Princess has da-”

Leaning forward, he kisses the back of her thigh gently.  “Shhh… I already took care of that too.”  His hands continue their masterful work and he slowly feels the tension leaving her body.  “Your mom is  getting the kids and they’re all going to stay at that hotel with the indoor waterpark.  Uncle Scott and your sister and kids are going to join them tomorrow to keep everyone entertained until you get better.”

She lifts her weary head to look at him, her eyes slightly hazed from a fever.  “You’re fuckin’ amazing.  You think of everything…  I’m still not having sex with you.”

He chuckles.  “Maybe when you feel better I can stay an extra day or two, and you can thank me appropriately then.”  His hands knead down her thighs and she involuntarily parts her legs for him.  He smiles and shakes his head.  “‘Cause I think you need it as badly as I do.”  His hand slides under her and he pushes against her hot covered mound.  She sighs happily and he smiles to himself.

“Besides, the idea of the numbness caused by the throat spray in your mouth on my cock actually terrifies me.  No thank you; stay away from me.”  His hands brush between her thighs and goosebumps form on her heated flesh.

She softly chuckles and shakes her head.  “Words I never thought I’d hear you say…  Thank you honey; knowing you dropped everything for me means so much.”

“You’re my girl; my world.  I gotta take care of you.  The rest of it would all fall to shit without you.”

He continues rubbing her back and massaging her legs and feet until her quiet wheezes turn to soft snores.  He kisses her cheek tenderly and exits the room thinking on the chores he should begin to make her transition back to health easier.  He decides to start with the pile of laundry outside the boys’ room.  Anything he can do to make his wife happy…  That’s his number one job.

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Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

No Decisions Today

no decisions today jan 1 2017.JPG

No Decisions Today

a Sunshine Story

a Chris Evans fan fic

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris takes Sunshine home to meet the family and she receives an interesting phone call

Warnings: Language, adult situations, tickle fight, seriously way too much ice cream, fluff

Author’s Note: I feel like if I don’t post this story now, I never will.  Life is crazy and my original fiction is calling me! For the present time, this is the conclusion to the Sunshine series.- ANM 1/1/17

Word Count: 3176

After dinner is cleared away, the family retreats to the airy living room and I am loving every minute of it.  It makes me miss my family a bit, thinking of when we can all get together.  The boys are enjoying time with “Uncle Chris” and are taking turns diving off the couch and landing on him, much to Mama Lisa’s dismay.  She cringes each time, just waiting for someone to get hurt.

“Relax, Ma,” Carly chides as she sits on the couch next to me.  “You know he’ll catch them every time.  He’s the one that’s gonna be sore tomorrow.”  She says this with a smile as Chris moans when he’s kicked in the stomach again.

“Well, it makes me nervous.  I can’t stay here and watch.  Shanna, will you come help me set out dessert?”  Lisa rises from her chair, bending to straighten some magazines on the side table.  I swear the woman never stops moving.

Shanna rolls her eyes and I can’t hold in my giggles. I try to intervene on her behalf, knowing it’s difficult to be the youngest.  “Miss Lisa?  Can’t I help?  Please, I feel bad.  You haven’t let me lift a finger since I arrived and-”

“Sweetie, you just sit back and relax.  Help keep the kids busy; it’s all under control.”  She smiles warmly and walks staunchly towards the kitchen, the proud matriarch of the family.

I shrug my shoulders to Shanna as if to say, ‘I tried.’  Chris smiles up at me from the floor and winks, swatting at Shanna’s legs as she walks by.  “Thanks, sis,” he says, appreciation dripping from his rich, velvety voice.

The kids continue to roll around the room and play with their uncle, shrieking with delight when ‘Uncle Scott’ joins the fun.  One of the boys brushes against my bare foot and I quickly pull it away, lifting it up and tucking it under me as I sit and talk with Carly and her husband.

Later, the noise dies down and Carly goes off in search of the kids.  “It’s not the sound that bothers me; it’s the quiet.  That’s usually when they’re up to no good.”  She rises from the couch, and nudges her husband, who has drifted off to sleep.  He quietly snorts and pushes her hand away.

Chris’s muffled voice rises up from the floor, his arm draped over his closed eyes.  “They’re fine, Sis.  They wanted Scott to see where they plan to build their secret fort.  But it’s a secret.  You didn’t hear that from me.”

The mention of a secret fort jolts Ryan awake.  The tired parents set off in search of their offspring, mumbling about the influence of ‘Uncle Scott.’

Chris rolls over on his belly, a look of contentment and joy on his face.  His smile turns up in a childish grin, something on his mind.  “So, uh, Sunshine?  I couldn’t help but notice you pulled your foot away while the kids were playing.”

I sense of dread fills me but I keep my voice light.  “Yeah, I didn’t want them tripping over my big feet and getting hurt.”

Army crawling towards me on his stomach I know he knows.  Crap.  The look on his face is purely sinful.  “So, it’s not because you’re ticklish?”  His voice drops, adding an air of seduction to his play as his warm hands snakes under me and grabs my ankle.  I squirm away from him, but his hold is tight.

Christopher.  Don’t.  You.  Dare.”

He rises up on his knees, his too- tight shirt stretching over his chest drawing my attention to his beautiful form, distracting me for a moment. Chris wraps his other hand around my ankle and I try to kick him away, connecting with his shoulder and he laughs playfully.  “Sorry, sorry,” I whisper, just adding fuel to his laughter as he guffaws even more loudly.

Giving a forceful tug, he pulls me onto the floor next to him.  I land with a slight bounce, thankful once again for my extra padding. Squealing I scramble to crawl away from him, but his grip is tight and he throws his weight against me, pinning me to the ground. Crawling over me with a predatory look on his chiseled features, I admit defeat to myself knowing I really don’t want to get away.

My stomach flips and turns in knots and I know he’s going to win.  I try to block his attack as his hand roams up my side, poking and brushing over the stays of my tight blue sundress.  His hand flies up to my face and brushes my disheveled hair from my eyes.  “You’re really beautiful, Sunshine… How have you kept this a secret from me all this time?”  His breath is warm against me when his lips brush against mine. Shifting, his rugged beard tickles my face, dancing across my cheek to my neck. He moves his head back and forth assaulting me with the coarse bristles of his beard as he nips and bites at my tender skin and I can’t catch my breath.

“Stop,” I whine, pushing fruitlessly against his firm chest.  “That tickles; really.  Stop, please.”

“Aw, honey, you know I love when you beg…”  He continues to torment me with his beard while his hand digs and kneads at my rib cage, up and down; teasing me, tickling me, torturing me.  My legs rise up around him, trying to protect myself; trying to block his movements, my hands clutching at his strapping biceps to get him off me.

His attack really just provides us an innocent excuse to have our hands all over each other, appropriate for the family setting.  And I settle into the ticklish sensations taking over me, helpless giggles and quiet pleas escaping my lipstick stained mouth.  Breathless, my breasts heave and threaten to push over the top of my dress as he rolls off of me and snuggles against my side.

“Are you as oddly turned on as I am?”  Chris laughs, tucking fly-away hairs behind my ear, the delicate touch a trigger in my heightened state and I shudder against him.

I giggle, hiding my face under a pillow near us on the floor. “Oh my god, that will kill me, but yes. Lord, yes.”

He pulls the pillow from my face and gently leans over to kiss my soft lips, tenderly caressing my belly to slow my evident muscle spasms and calm my breathing.

“Uncle Chris! Dessert time! Grandma got your favorite ice cream!” One of the boys yells as he streaks through the living room, mimicking a gagging motion at the sight of our kisses.

“More food? I don’t think I could eat another thing!” I exclaim as Chris pulls me to my feet, purposely pushing his solid body into mine.

I catch him sneaking a quick glance to the kitchen doorway. I can’t see anyone standing there, so I don’t slap his hand away as he wraps his strong arms around me, hitching up my skirt and grasping my rounded ass.  “We aren’t done with this,” he growls predatorily into my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

I step away, taking my hand in his large paw and lead him to the kitchen.  I look over my shoulder and watch him following me like a puppy in his own home.

The sight on the kitchen counter is heaven.  I can definitely see where Chris developed his affinity for ice cream!  Lisa has pints of every flavor imaginable on the counter, with bowls of sprinkles, nuts and various toppings lined up.  Seeing the smile on my face, she grins back and says, “Chris tells me your favorite flavor is-”

I spot it and pull the container to me, taking a spoon.

“Hey! We are sharing!” Chris laughs.  “That’s not all for you!”

I raise my eyebrow at him and a devilish urge to challenge him flashes through me.  I lick the spoon quickly and stick it in the middle of the container.  Shanna laughs and hi-fives me, repeating the same action for the pint in front of her.

Scott scoffs. “Dammit. I don’t want any of that now… I don’t wanna think about where your mouth has been.”  He shudders and then hollers in pain when Carly slaps the back of his head.

“The kids are here. Behave,” she admonishes her youngest brother.  “I swear, it’s like living in a frat house when you two get together.  Not everything has to be R-rated, you know.”

“Scott, mind you manners and hold your tongue,” Lisa also scolds him, waving a bottle of electric blue dish soap at him.  All the adult Evans children groan, and to my right, Scott mumbles under his breath, “Worst punishment ever.” He shudders as if still remembering the taste of soap in his mouth.

I giggle, reaching across the bar to get the container of hot fudge and Chris pushes the bowl of cashews towards me.  “So, Christopher, was that a punishment you received often?”

The family chuckles at my use of his full name.  “Yeah, Uncle Christopher. Did Grandma ever soap your tongue?” one of the boys chimes in, climbing up on the stool across from me.

The family settles in to their pattern of storytelling and I instantly feel at home and warm in their presence. Looking around the counter and at the kids at the table, I see a little bit of each of them reflected in Chris.  I love seeing how the little ones are so much like their favorite uncle and I’m sure that creates trouble for Carly at times.

Stories continue, changing from one topic to the next. As the children get restless, Carly’s husband offers to take them up to bed.  By now, most of us have moved to more comfortable seats around the table.  Before saying goodnight, Stella crawls up in my lap and grasps the sides of my face in her chubby little hands.  “You’re fwuffy.  I wike it,” she declares as she leans in to kiss me on the cheek. I giggle at the tickle of her touch and her honest candor.

Carly’s eyes are filled with horror and I kiss the little girl back before blowing a raspberry on her cheek.  “I wike it too; fluffy girls have more fun,” I admit to her.  Looking around the room, I know why it was important for Chris to bring me home.  He wanted me to see that all the women in his life that are most important to him are ‘fluffy.’  To show me that I’m important to him…

“And we get to eat more cake,” she giggles as her dad pulls her from my lap into his arms.

“All the cake, sweet Princess,” Shanna laughs, tickling the bottom of her niece’s foot as Ryan carries her from the room.

Carly whispers her apologies and I just shrug them off.  “Carly, relax.  I’m a big girl,” I chuckle at the unintended play on words, tilting my head to the side.  “I can handle it; at least kids are honest about it.  And fluffy is the sweetest adjective I’ve ever heard; I’ll take that title.”

Patting her own motherly form, Lisa giggles.  “Fluffy?  I can deal with that too.  And I’m all for anything requiring cake,” she jokes as she cuts off a small piece to go with her ice cream.  “That little girl has amazing ideas.  I have no idea where she gets them.”

“Oh, not from any of the strong, independent, sassy women in this room, that’s for sure,” Scott delivers with heavy sarcasm, a beam of pride across his face.

Winking at me, nodding his head in understanding, Chris leans to me and looks at my container of ice cream.  “Not making much progress there Sunshine,” he teases.

“I never said I was eating the whole thing tonight but I claim it for the next few days we are in town.”  I lay my spoon down on his plate where he had brownies with his ice cream and lean back in my seat.  “I can’t eat another bite; Lisa you are an amazing cook!  All that home-cooked Italian food? I’d love to have some of those recipes.”

“Oh, no. No one can quite make it like Ma does,” Carly complains.  “I live with the woman; we cook together all the time.  But when I do it alone, it’s crap.  It’s like she leaves out one ingredient every time she gives me a recipe just so I won’t be as good as her.”

She glares at her mother, and I can tell this is an on-going tease in the family.

Chris pipes up.  “Sunshine is an amazing cook!” He leans back in his chair, his leg bumping against my thigh.  He pats his belly and proclaims, “All that Venezuelan food?  I think I’ve gained ten pounds.  Getting in shape for Cap is gonna be a bitch.”

I can hear Scott and Chris talking about his upcoming project, but I focus on the discussion of the women.  Shanna asks about the types of food I like to cook and she and Lisa convince me I should cook one night while we are in town.  Drawn back into our ‘girl talk’ as he puts it, Chris agrees to hosting a dinner party at his home .  He starts asking the family if they think his house is impersonal and I notice Lisa and Carly shy away from the chat. I don’t focus on the last of this conversation. My phone rings and I am flustered by the information on the screen.  I stand up abruptly and put my hand on his shoulder. “Work thing, gotta take it.”

He nods his head yes and keeps entertaining his family with his stories as I walk into the living room to take the call in private. Before I am out of earshot, I hear Scott over the low roar in the room, “Damn bro, she’s definitely different from your other girls you’ve brought home.  You really like her, don’t you?”

I can hear Carly.  “Nah, it’s love.  And he’s so far gone he doesn’t know what to do with himself, right lil’ bro?”

Shit.  Looking at my phone screen again, I do not want to know the answer to that question. I run quickly for the door and step out on the front porch, closing it loudly behind me.

#

Returning the kitchen, everyone’s face turns to me and I can’t hide my smile.  Chris rises from his chair, his eyes taking on a shade of green to match the shirt he wears, and smiles at me in anticipation.

“I got it; I got the job!”  I whisper, still in such shock I can’t believe it myself.

Chris picks me up and spins me around in a quick circle.  I giggle when I hear Scott’s gasp of disbelief and Carly hits the back of his head again.

“That’s amazing, Sunshine, I’m so happy for you!”  Taking my face in his large hands, Chris kisses me tenderly, but there is a sadness in his green eyes.  “This is what you want, right?”

“Yea, I think so, it’s my chance,” I shrug my shoulders and laugh, not being able to contain my joy.

Carly looks quizzically between the two of us, and asks cautiously, “A new job?  That’s great!  What- what is it?”  Her gaze lingers on Chris and I wonder about his confession to his siblings while I was outside, but that will be for us to discuss later.

Sinking back into my chair and sighing deeply, I fight to find the words, torn between the good and the bad.  “Months ago, before I started working for Christopher, I had a job with a TV exec down in the valley.  She had me audition for an idea of a design show she wanted to put together…”  I watch as a most proud smile breaks across Chris’s face as the news sinks in and he grips my hand a bit tighter, sitting back down next to me.  I notice Mama Lisa’s gaze is on her son, and his reactions to my words, but I continue my news.  “Well, she got the go ahead from the cable network and the other execs want me to do the show.” Saying it out loud the crazy story becomes real, and I giggle nervously.   I turn to look at him. “Me, Christopher… I’m gonna be on TV, redoing homes and giving decorator secrets.  Can you believe it?”

“Fuckin’ wicked, Sunshine.  That’s amazing.”  Raising my hand to his lips, he kisses the back of my hand, tears of happiness in his eyes.  His family chimes in with their words of congratulations and well wishes. “I’m so proud of you; my girl’s gonna be a TV star,” he chuckles.  My heart soars with his faith in me and I tell him so.

“No one’s ever believed in me the way you do; honey.  Your support keeps me going, even when I want to give up, and I…” I pause as the words choke in my throat, fighting back my own tears.  “I will always love you for it.”

One by one, his family begins to sneak away, realizing this may be a bigger discussion than they are ready to witness.

His face falls and sadness momentarily takes away his good looks.  I hate to think of causing him pain and grief.  I pinch my eyes shut and when I open them, a weak smile has returned to his visage. “Sunshine, what are you saying?  I love you too, whatever this is, we can figure it out.”

He’s finally said the words I desperately longed to hear and now I feel they’re a little too late.

Caressing the side of his face, I say what he hasn’t pieced together yet.  “I start filming the same time you’ll be leaving for Georgia in the Spring.  I can’t go with you; I know we talked about it and had plans, but-”

“Shhh, Sunshine.  You’re my light.”  Chris sits up and scoots his chair closer,  placing his arm across my belly and resting it on the edge of my chair.  “You’re talking like this is good-bye.  I’m crazy about you…”  With his other hand, he traces his fingers across my hummingbird tat before looking up into my eyes, both of us with tears threatening to spill over.  “I love you, my Sunshine, and we don’t have to decide anything for now.  Okay?”  His once powerful voice is now barely a whisper on a his breath.  “Promise me that?”

Sighing deeply, I shake my head slightly, knowing he’ll want to stretch out the inevitable.  Choking back my tears, I place my lips gently to his, tasting the mixed salt of our tears.  Still caressing the side of his cheek, I slide my nose against his, and whisper the words softly against his skin.  “Right, we don’t have to decide anything today.  We still have several months to figure it all out; it’s vacation. No decisions today..”

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom