Mrs. Evans’ Boys

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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



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An Emery & Chris story

By avenger-nerd-mom

Actor Chris Evans and his lovely new bride, Emery Rose, celebrate their big day surrounded by family and friends

Warnings: Language, FLUFF

Word Count: 5355

December 10, 2016

He steps up behind her and takes her tiny hand in his, his warmth like a blanket around her.  “By the way, I have a huge hickey on my collar bone” he whispers in her ear.

Emery gently brushes against his arm and giggles, “You just said it couldn’t show on camera!”

Chris freezes momentarily when the doors open in front of them and a distant voice booms, “Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Christopher Evans!”

“Can I request a matching one in another spot later?”  He kisses her briefly, waiting for the right count of the song before advancing into the room.

“You can have whatever you want dear husband,” she giggles again as she pushes him forward to make their entrance as the happily married couple.

Their presentation dance is thankfully forgotten as all their friends and family rush to surround them, hugs and congratulations abound.


“Excuse me, excuse me,” the DJ calls over the microphone, breaking through the low roar of the room.   “I’ve just received a text message from the bride that says ‘Please announce: if you all don’t stop clinking your glasses every five seconds to get us to kiss, I’m closing down the bar.’ Apparently the bride wants to eat and enjoy this meal, and she is willing to bribe us with booze.”

Scott Evans turns to the young man sitting next to him. He had introduced himself earlier as Steven, a recent graduate from her class, now studying in New York. Chris had secretly arranged for a few of her favorite students to be guests at the wedding.  “Bribery? Is that her method of motivation in class?”

“No, man but if she’d bribed us with alcohol, I at least wouldn’t have cared I didn’t understand Advanced Trig.”

Scott claps the kid on the back and laughs loudly.  “You, I like. Stick with me, kid.”

“Ah, man!”  Emery calls out.  “Who hired a Yankee DJ?  It’s not ‘if you all don’t stop.’” She mimics the Boston accent of the DJ, one of Chris’s childhood friends, and other friends playfully boo and hiss.  “It’s more like this: ‘if y’all don’ stop!’”  All the Southerners in the room applaud for the distinction.  “Leave me in peace to eat; I can kiss him ‘all I wan’ to’’ later!”  Her over the top drawl mimics a famous line from a popular movie set in the South.

From the shadows of the room, Chris isn’t sure if it is Seb or Renner that yells, “Let her eat!  She needs fuel for energy later.”

He looks to his blushing bride and laughs as she mumbles under her breath. “Your fuckin’ friends are rude… but correct.  They do realize our grandparents are here though, right?  Does everything have to be a damn innuendo?”

Grasping her skirt and inching it up, his hands hidden from view behind the tablecloth, he keeps sliding his hand up until he can tease his fingers along her bare thigh. His voice full of laughter at the joy of the moment replies, “Have you not been paying attention for the last year? YES. Yes, everything has to be a damn innuendo.”


Called to the center of the dance floor the couple prepares for their spotlight dance, all eyes on them, giggling and whispering to one another.  When the music begins, Emery quickly realizes this isn’t the version of the song she wanted, but her eyes soften and fill with tears when she realizes it’s actually perfect.

“It’s you… That’s you on the piano?”

Before Chris can answer, his voice comes over the speaker singing words of love just to her and he looks to her with his eyes glistening from tears.  “People fall in love in mysterious ways…. I fall in love with you every single day,” he sings along, his breath warm against her temple. “When my hair’s all but gone and my memory fades, and the crowds don’t remember my name…”

“I’ll still love you the same,” she joins in, her quiet voice matching his, fingers tugging his shorter hair, just the way she likes it.

“You’re mine, for always?” he sniffles, chuckling as he wipes away his own tears.

“You know it.  Till the end of the line, Mr. Evans.”  Although her blue sequined Captain America shoes she wore on the first day they met give her added height, she still has to pull him down to her to kiss his cheek, tasting the salty tears trapped in his beard.  Wrapping her hand around his neck she toys with the collar of his suit coat as her lips blissfully meet his.

Pulling back slightly, his nose slides against hers as he inhales her flowery scent.  Getting lost in his beautiful bride, he whispers, “That’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard, Emery Rose Evans.”

His lips, sweet and tender, capture hers, slowly brushing over her glossed pink ones.

The newlyweds could care less they are on display on the dance floor  surrounded by the love of family and friends.  Emery’s eyes flutter closed as her lips touch his and she raises her hand up to caress his closely cropped hair.  The soft impression of her mouth against his causes her heart to race and she can feel it beating against his solid, familiar chest.  Home.   His arms squeeze tight around her, pulling her close as his hands roam across her back.

Although the kiss began chaste and a show for the onlookers, it begins to build heat.  Darting his tongue across her lips, tasting her, Chris deepens the kiss and her hold on the back of his head tightens as they continue to sway to the music, a sense of a true dance totally lost.  She moans quietly against his mouth, parting imperceptibly to allow him to suck on her top lip as he loves to do.  He pulls off with a biting tug, a promise for later as the music dies down and flows to the next song, set as a traditional dance for the bride to dance with the fathers, and the groom to dance with the mothers.


Emery’s younger sister Mackenzie pulls on Emery’s arm and draws her attention away from wedding guests offering congratulations.  “What are you doing?  Chris works with them,  I need to make nice–”

“Shhh.. You’re ovaries will thank me.  Look.”  She spins her sister around towards the dance floor, where Chris has dark haired Stella in one arm and fair haired Dakota in the other, dancing and laughing with them.

“I mean, he’s my brother in law and all, but that makes me wanna have kids with him!”

Emery smiles, shaking her head at her slightly tipsy sister’s honesty.  She sucks in air between her teeth before admitting, “Damn, that is sexy.  My bearded dork… He’s gonna make a great dad someday.”

“You change your mind? You still wanna wait?”

Continuing to watch her handsome husband with their nieces, she moves to sit at the closest table, taking a few moments to rest.  She nods to the quiet couple at the table, smiling as they raise their glasses to her in congratulations.  Her sister pulls up a chair next to her and they whisper conspiratorially.  “I’m in no rush.  He doesn’t like it, but I don’t wanna start our family while he’s still so obligated to the studio.  I start my new job in January. He’ll be home on the weekends, and days I don’t have office hours, I can go into Atlanta and be with him on set.  I just wanna enjoy being his wife for a bit.  Adjusting our lives together, creating us first.  I still gotta figure out how to deal with paparazzi and gossip before I bring a little one into our world.  There’s no rush.”


Looking to the dance floor, the young girls so comfortable in his strong arms with his shirt sleeves rolled up, exposing his hidden beauty, her heart skips a beat.  “But yeah, I guess seeing him like that does make me hurt a little… Fuck, he’s really beautiful, isn’t he?”

Mackenzie giggles, accepting two beer bottles from the waiter as he walks by, handing one to her sister.  “Sis, I still can’t believe you captured your favorite superhero.  It’s like right out of some silly movie.”

“Or the best written fan fictions,” Jen comments as she wanders passed the table and joins the girls for a quick respite.  “Damn girl, you really know how to throw a wedding!  This is impressive.  So much eye candy,” she giggles as she collapses against the back of her chair.  Her eyes skim the dance floor, pinpointing various fantasies she sees on display.  “Tom is just as charming as I thought he’d be!  I thought I was going to die when he asked me to dance; his hand on my hip, guiding me to the floor.  Maybe I did die…  This is my ghost.  The ghost of Jen.  I’m not kidding.  This is the best wedding reception ever!”

Emery smiles at her fangirl friend.  She’s so grateful so many of her girls in the fandom world were able to join her for this special occasion.  “Don’t die; you haven’t met Seb yet, have you?”

Jen’s head drops back and she releases a primal sound.  She giggles and raises her head up, searching the floor for him.  “No.  I haven’t.” She shakes her head.  “Some of the guys disappeared to play in the snow, of all things, and I haven’t had the chance to meet him.  But when I do, talk about ‘best written fan fics…’  I’ve got some fantasies for him.”

Raising her hand for a high-five, Mackenzie slurs slightly, “Oh, sister, don’t I know it.  I’ve read your stuff.  Damn.  Why don’t we go get freshened up a bit, be ready when those handsome men reappear?”

When one of the photographers approaches the table to talk to Emery about getting some more posed photos, Mackenzie and Jen sneak off together.  They walk away arm in arm giggling over different fangirl story ideas that could take place at a wedding reception.


Taking a breather from the snowball fight, Chris steals a few moments from the party atmosphere to gather with his Marvel co-workers and friends.  Robert gestures towards him with his water bottle, “So young lad… the wedding night? Any questions; concerns?”

Renner sees where this is going and playfully jumps in. “Yeah, you know, wedding night jitters… It can be stressful. Don’t be upset if your-” the hero themed snack table close by catches his eye and he can’t hold back the joke on the tip of his tongue. He chuckles, scratching his head. “Don’t be worried if your, uh, ‘flagpole of freedom’ can’t rise up for a salute.”

Knowing they aren’t finished, Chris just pinches the bridge of his nose, dropping his eyes to his shoes.  Shaking his head in mirth and disbelief, he holds in his laughter.

“Yeah, man. It happens,” Mackie interferes trying to keep a straight face. “Emery’s a sweet, quiet girl; I’m sure she’ll understand if you can’t perform any heroic deeds.”

A wicked grin gracing his countenance, Robert brightens at the name of his favorite little red head. He knows she’s just what Chris needed in his life to move him forward into true adulthood, and he has nothing but the best wishes for the couple, but he can’t help taking the opportunity to joke with his closest friends. “Hey, about Emery-”

Seeing that his new brothers Reece and Dan have joined the gathering, and wanting utmost respect for his wife, Chris cuts through his friend’s thoughts. “Hey now, none of that locker room talk about my sweet, innocent wife-”

Mark Ruffalo jumps in, coughing, ‘bullshit’ under his breath.  “Bullshit; My trailer’s right next to yours on set-”

Chris stares him down and the group shares a chuckle at his defensive posture.  ”-And no need to worry about me and my ‘salute.’ It’s all good,” he promises waving his hands in an explanatory gesture indicating that everything is in working order.

Seb steps up. “Well, man, we got you a little something. Don’t use ‘em all in the first year,” he advises, handing a gift bag to the groom.

Chris peers into the sack and doubles over in laughter, rising back up and doing his signature left-boob grab maneuver on Grillo, who just joined the circle.  Frank chuckles too, seeing what’s down in the bag. Through wheezing laughter, Chris spits out, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ! There must be like a thousand condoms in there!”  He shakes his head at the assortment of colorful foiled packets his friends have gifted to him.

“Hey, you don’t need all those tonight,” Seb teases as he reaches in and pockets some for himself. “That one bridesmaid is pretty hot.”

The men turn to the group of women out on the dance floor and Chris releases another gut busting laugh. “Oh, man, that one?” Raising his eyebrow, he nods to his close friend. “Yeah. Just be careful with that one…”

Seb’s intrigued expression shows he’s not interested in Chris’s friendly advice, and who is Chris to warn his friend and keep him from some undoubtedly sinful fun? Chris drops the topic as Hemsworth raises his glass in a toast, all joining in with kind words for their dear friend and his new bride.

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Moving away from the dancing bridesmaids and collection of friends, Emery’s sister-in-law Susan finds her husband wandering across the room towards her.  “Are you okay?” she asks Reece. “What has that little huddle all about?”

“What?” he asks, not truly hearing her over the din of the party room. His dazed look causes her concern.

“Babe? You’re scaring me a little; what’s wrong?” She pushes him towards the door to the quiet hallway.

Reece smiles down at his wife, waving at his father who is heading back into the room through the other doorway. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” he explains, his voice full of mirth and wonder. “I think I have the coolest sister ever. She actually married a real super-hero… I’ve talked renewable energy with Ruffalo all afternoon, I’m golfing with Downey tomorrow and Scarlett asked to see pictures of our baby…. I’m just… I’m a nerd. I’m in frickin’ heaven right now. Am I dreaming?” He chuckles, cornering his wife against the wall.  Leaning down to kiss her neck, she tilts her head back to accept his affections.  His tone drops seductively. “By the way, have I told you how beautiful you look in this bridesmaid dress. The classic style really shows off your, uh,” Reece pauses, looking down to his wife’s plump breasts busting out of her dress, mashed against his chest.  “Pretty eyes,” he laughs.

She rolls her ‘pretty’ eyes knowing exactly where his mind is headed.  “Honey, if you don’t let me go, this dress will be ruined. I’m about to explode. I just wanted to tell you I’m going to find a quiet place to pump.  Little Luke will just have to wait to get the real thing later… Oh, and the photographer is trying to round the men up for more photos. Save me a dance for later, okay?”


Waiting on the snow covered patio the wedding party huddles together for warmth and anticipates further instructions.  At Emery’s request Chris hired their new friend and photographer, Erin, and a small team of professionals to take the official and candid photos for their special day.  The men are summoned for more photos in the fading light and slowly begin to move to the appointed location.

“Hold up, come back here!” Emery calls out to Chris as he begins to walk away to join the groomsmen for more photos.  “Why is your ass wet?”

Chris grins sheepishly, jumping in front of his charming bride to block the snowball Scott poorly aimed at him.  “Sorry sis,” her new brother shouts.  “I was aiming for meatball, there.”

The groomsmen send up a cheer when her well aimed snowball hits Scott solidly in the chest.  Her brother, Reece, laughs and says, “Scott, I’d say you throw like a girl, but she proved that wrong.”

“Not thrown many snowballs before,” she whispers to Chris, “thank goodness it was a packing snow, or I’d have looked like an idiot.”  She brushes the snow from his jacket and smiles as Erin snaps some candid shots.  “Honey, I asked ‘why is your ass wet?’”

“Earlier in our snowball fight, I fell on it,” he admits, rubbing his hand down the back of his thigh.  “I think I might have bruised something…  I couldn’t get traction in the snow in these dress shoes.  Shit.  It didn’t stain did it? We gotta fuckin’ return this thing, right?”

In the dimming sunlight Emery bends to check out the ass of his pants and playfully bites at him.

Capturing the photo Erin shouts, “Oh, that one goes on Twitter!”

“You be nice to me,” Chris laughs shaking his finger at her, “Or it’s back to Disney full time for you!”

“Oh, it’s such a horrible place to work.  Taking photos of happy families and couples all day,” she laughs, playfully moving him to the right lighting for the photo she wants to snap.

Emery elegantly slides in next to him, a natural in front of the camera and Chris’s heart grows  full of pride.  Such beauty and grace… Home.  

“I don’t see any stains, but it’s no big deal.  We own the suit,” Emery replies with a sly grin on her face.

Blocking her from the cold chill in the air, he pulls close to her.  “What? Why?”

“Are you kidding me?!  That is Suit Porn at it’s finest, and it’s all mine.  Like once a month, I’m just gonna have you put it on and walk around the house and bring me things,” she giggles.

Adjusting his movements for Erin to click her photos as the sun sets against the falling snow, Chris teases, “Oh, really?”  He nods his head.  “Fine.  That’s fine.  A long as you return the favor occasionally and put on this dress and do the same.”

Blushing, she bows her head, “Oh, honey, no.  This is vintage.  This is going away safe.  Ilaria and I already have planned to get it framed, but we can get a replica made.”

Chris laughs, his eyes wide at the thought, happy to see his wife willing to spend his money freely on something frivolous.  “I adore you, kitten.  And I see it has pockets?”

“It does!” She exclaims. “Every good nerd girl knows a wedding dress must have pockets!”

Rolling his eyes, Chris chuckles, “I understood that reference.  I wish I didn’t, but I do….”

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As the afternoon moves into evening, and the photos outside are finished, Chris and Emery take the stage again to introduce the next “activity” for the wedding guests.  The two giggle and tussle over who will actually speak before Chris finally places the microphone in her hand and presents her to the crowd with a flourish of his arms.  Stepping into the limelight, she laughs and mumbles “Chicken shit,” under her breath before addressing the crowd.  “Hey, y’all.  We hope you’re having a wonderful time.  Chris and I wanted to thank everyone for making time in their busy schedules and for battling the winter storms this week to get here-”

Leaning over her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame, he chimes in, “I tried to tell her snow and Boston could be a bad combination, but she’s a little hard-headed. However,  I think we can all agree, the day was amazing and the snow was beautiful; just what she’d hoped for…” He smiles as the crowd cheers and applauds, lightly placing a kiss on her temple before letting her continue her speech.


“We have a family wedding tradition in the Thomas family that some of you might not be familiar with, known as the Dollar Dance,” Emery continues.  “The idea is you can dance with the bride or groom, but you have to make a donation, traditionally used to collect money for expenses of starting a new household together.  Well, no one wants to dance with me,” she giggles at Chris’s motions that he does,  “and we don’t need another toaster, and I’ve got all these handsome Marvel men and women here tonight so they’ve agreed to help with my family tradition, with a little twist!”  She smiles as family members begin to shift towards the stage, preparing for the awaited dance.  “For your donation, you can twirl around the floor with any of the lovely people around the room tonight, but since Chris and I don’t need the money, all the money will be divided and donated to Christopher’s Haven, here in Boston, and the shelter where I volunteer my time in Savannah.”

Chris blushes and shakes his head when her fangirl friends go crazy, and lines actually begin to form around his friends.

Wait, there are some basic rules,” Emery begins to explain.

“Just like a teacher to spoil the fun!” her friend Lillian yells across the room, her eyes on Mackie.  She gives a little shove to her friend Gitali, motivating her to move quickly to find Chadwick for the first dance.

“Ha-ha, dear. Shushie.  Really. I promise the rules will work in your favor…  I know how a fangirl mind works; I had to create some guidelines to keep y’all in line!  Some of these handsome men are VERY married so be respectful. Same goes for ScarJo and Cobie, gentlemen.  I guess everyone else is fair game.”

“I’m available ladies,” Renner adds in motioning to the women closest to him, including Emery’s sister in law Susan and her friends Monica and Sophia.

“Me too,” offers Hiddleston, his arms already wrapped around Emery’s friend Devika. Emery gives her friend Danielle a thumbs up as she patiently waits behind them, bouncing on her tiptoes with excitement.

More cheers and laughter fill the rafters of the old farmhouse setting.

“Bring it down, bring it down,” Emery laughs, treating the crowd like she would a roomful of excited students.  “My good friend, Jen, was given a heads up on this. She has pledged an undisclosed amount for a FULL song with Seb, so back off. Get in her way, and I think she’ll hurt you…”

Chris erupts in laughter behind his wife, a full body shake as he nods his head in agreement to this statement.  He gives a salute to his friend, quietly standing in the corner, silently sending him luck.

“Hey, hey!  I gotta question!”  Mackie calls out from behind one of the many displays of food, his voice booming and playful. “This is a lustful looking group of women… Now, I know I agreed to this, but I’m gettin’ a little scared.  Where are they putting this money? Like am I gonna be pulling ones outta my briefs later?”

Sounds of heated catcalls fill the air, including ones from the beautiful bride, covering the microphone as she releases her laughter.  Blushing and laughing with her, Chris shakes his head.  “Mackie, anything that has been in your pants, we don’t want it.”

A random voice calls out, “Speak for yourself!”  Emery bites back her laughter at the slightly drunken outburst of her friend Violet, as she and their friend Deb wait for their dance with Frank Grillo.

“See!  That!  That’s what I’m talking about… “ Anthony shouts.  “I’m starting to feel a little uneasy about this.”

“Man, relax.  It’s for charity,” Seb laughs, stepping forward and clapping his friend good naturedly on the shoulder.  He makes eye contact with Jen as she begins to cross the room towards him and winks at her.

“Yea, we bein’ pimped out for charity!” Mackie exclaims clapping his hands and blowing a kiss to his lovely wife, who happens to be waiting in line behind Emery’s friend Tammy to dance with Chris Hemsworth. Frowning, he shakes his finger at her disapprovingly.

“Don’t worry Anthony, our nieces and nephews are coming around with bags for the donations to be placed in. Ladies, be appropriate and remember-”

“Mrs. Evans? What if I want to dance with you?” Robert Downey Jr.’s charming voice booms from the left side of the room.

Shielding her eyes from the spotlight, Emery smiles at the kind man’s suggestion. “Well, aren’t you a sweetie!  Nah, I’ll let you do that for free,” Emery laughs, waving aside his offer.

“No, sweetheart. A deal’s a deal.  It’s for charity.  I got $6000 bucks,” he says, stepping forward and waving his checkbook.

Emery stares at Robert in disbelief, her mouth slightly agape and Chris gently pushes her forward. “For the kids at the hospital? She’s all yours man.”

“Getting rid of me already?! Well, come here, handsome!” Emery laughs as Robert sweeps her off the stage into his arms, gently setting her on the ground.

“Well, I’ll pay $1000 to dance with RDJ,” calls out another sweet Southern drawl.  “I didn’t realize he was on the dance card!”

“Who is that?” Robert looks around in search of the owner of the lovely voice.  “Is that your mother?” he asks Emery his voice full of flirtatious charm.  “I’ll pay another $1000 just to listen to her slow Southern words whispered in my ear as we dance.”

As the DJ begins to play “Dangerous Woman,” at the request of Jen for her dance with Sebastian, Emery pushes Robert away.  “Oh, hell no.  I am not dancing to this with you.  Next song.”  She laughs and grabs her husband instead.


The couple lean against the doorway, smiling at friends heading outside to enjoy the cool night air and s’mores around the campfire.  Crouching down, Emery helps Miles and Dawson put their gloves on to go outside to join the snowball fight.  “Do you think the Hulk can be on my team?” Miles whispers to the newest member of his family.

“I don’t know, bud.  He’s right behind you, all you gotta do is ask.”  Emery prods him forward and her heart soars when Mark sweeps the little boy over his shoulder and carries him outside, chanting “Hulk loves snow!”

She watches Chris with her dear friends from back home, Lisa, Carol and Jenny, as the ladies say goodnight and wish them the best for their happy futures together.  He kisses each woman gently on the cheek and thanks them for coming, reminding them of the breakfast the next morning before everyone leaves town.

Exhaling slowly Chris pulls his bride close to his side and kisses the top of her head, her curls loose and frizzy from the warmth of the room and a night of dancing and fun.  Murmuring against her temple, he declares: “You look good with kids; you’re gonna be a natural. You know that right?”

“Only ‘cause you know how to balance me,” she admits.  Changing away from the touchy subject of children, she teases, “So, are you still mad we didn’t get married at Disney?”

Chris waves at some friends who are leaving and responds, “You’re forgiven. Mickey Mouse in a Pats jersey on the groom’s cake made up for it, and we’ll be there soon enough.”

“So, where are we going on our honeymoon?  Are you still not telling me?”

“Nope.  It’s a surprise; you’ll find out when we land.  I made sure Mackenzie actually packed you real clothes this time though.”  He smiles at the memory of Emery’s first visit to Boston last Thanksgiving. “And the vows?  You know I didn’t write them at the last minute last night.  Were you happy with those?”

Emery giggles as his hands caress down her arms warming her from the wintery night air at the open doors.  “We said words? In front of the minister?  I don’t remember anything; my heart was pounding so loudly in my ears and I couldn’t stop thinking how handsome you looked.  Did we even say ‘I do?’”  She leans her weary head against is chest.

“Yes, we did, kitten. I do, man and wife, the whole thing…  we can watch the video on the flight tomorrow night.”  He sighs happily, lifting her chin up to meet his joyful blue eyes.  “Hey, I wanted to tell you, before I forget… I’ve never seen you look so beautiful as you do tonight.  This image of you will be burned in my brain forever.  So beautiful, happy, peaceful.”


“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she smiles, spinning in his arms, crashing her chest against his solid body. He lands against the wall with a quiet ‘oomph.’

He chuckles as he sees her pulls dilate and darken; his kitten wants to play.  “Tired of being the belle of the ball?”  His raspy voice suggests his growing need to leave their friends and family.  “I believe last night you said something about a blowjob the next time you saw me?”

“That could be arranged,” she giggles pressing her lower body closer to his, circling her arms around his neck.  Licking her lips to tease him, she forces his head down so their lips can meet.  Full of promise with a building fire rising behind it, her tongue plays gently along his plump bottom lip but he doesn’t let her in.

Slowly retreating, Chris rests his forehead against hers and quietly inquires, “When can we get outta here?”

Although he’s pulled away from her lips, they are still connected at the waist and he makes his presence known by pulling her even nearer to him.   She chuckles, “Babe, we still have about twenty, maybe thirty minutes.  We haven’t thrown the bouquet or the garter.”

Rising tall he leans back against the wall, looking down at his petite bride, his chosen life partner.  He rolls his eyes.  “Such old-fashioned traditions, kitten.”  He teases as he caresses her cheek, looking over her shoulder briefly to watch their friends enjoy the company of one another.

Shrugging her shoulders, she smirks.  “Just be careful when you climb up under my dress.  Don’t flash the goods.  My underwear disappeared about 20 minutes ago.”  She smiles at his ragged breathing.  She holds her left hand out, turning her hand in the party lights to admire her sparkling wedding ring.  “And the stone on my hand isn’t the largest diamond you’ve given me that I’m wearing right now.”


She is pulled away by her younger brother Parker for a dance before Chris even has a chance to respond.  She looks over her shoulder and giggles as the meaning of the words dawn on him and his jaw drops. She wiggles her eyebrows flirtatiously and winks at him.  He shakes his finger at her and mouths the words ‘naughty girl.’  The sound of her laughter is carried away with the music and he is caught up in a dance with his older sister Carly.

Later, as the strains of “Don’t Stop Believing” begin and the room goes wild, he catches up to his sweet bride again.  Loud  voices ring out, all chiming in, the crowd mimicking Chris’s rendition with “schinger in a schmokey room, schmell of wine and scheap perfume.”  Chris shakes his head, surprised by the affection the crowd shares for the song simply based on a silly role he once played.

Without words, Emery can sense his pride, but she all out laughs at the scene she sees behind him as she watches their friends Jen and Sebastian leaving the reception hall together.

Pulling her to the center of the dancing circle, he holds her tight and growls in her ear, “Diamond?  Do you mean what I think you mean?”

She winks and smiles, licking her lips seductively, anticipating their wedding night fun back in their shared room soon enough.  “Yes, Mr. Evans. Every little part of me is now yours and you are mine. Forever and always, I’m with you till the end of the line.”


Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Evans


Other snapshots from the big event


This story concludes the second series for Emery and Chris!

Watch for two scheduled follow up stories in the future!

A special thank you to all the ladies featured in the story.  Without your love and support through the last year, this story- these characters- wouldn’t be who they are today.  This has been an amazing experience for me and I owe you my gratitude.  Thanks for being part of my tribe: Lisa, Kaiti, Carol, Jen, Susan, Lillian, Jenny, Violet, Deb, Tammy, Monica, Danielle, Devika, Gitali and Erin

A very special thank you to Whitney (aka mculove1) for creating beautiful wedding portraits for Chris and Emery, featuring actor Chris Evans and actress Rachel Lefevre

A special thank you to Lisa (akathewife101) you know I owe it all to you!  And the wedding ring edit is SPOT ON.  Thank you so much for your unwavering support.

All photos were found on Pinterest.

Click here for the next Emery&Chris story, You Promised: a Honeymoon Drabble

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

Perfect Saturday

perfect saturday sept 24 2016 cover.jpg

Perfect Saturday

A Mrs. Evans Story

By avenger-nerd-mom

While the kids are away for the weekend, a future Chris Evans surprises his wife on a lazy Saturday morning

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, Fluffy smut, Fingering, Oral Sex, Condom Use. NSFW

Word Count: 1446

You wake when you feel the bed shift, but you don’t comment on his exit.  It’s early in the morning; you know he’s not actually going anywhere but the bathroom.  His late night out with the guys answers that for you.  As the water runs you drift in and out of consciousness, the dogs beginning to stir downstairs.  You don’t want to actually rise from sleep mode since the boys are with their aunt today and you want to enjoy a long lay in.

You are surprised when he returns to the bed and pulls the blanket back from your body. Your eyes fly open and connect with his, already dark with lust as he admires your toned body, clad only in royal blue lace underwear.

“This is nice,” he murmurs, as he races his hands over your thighs, roughly gripping your flesh.

“This is from last night, when you said you’d be home in ‘thirty minutes.’” You grumble; still sore you’d fallen asleep alone when you had been all ready for a night of lovemaking.

“Ah, shit, babe.  Sorry.  I guess I was on man time,” he apologizes, batting his eyelashes at you, like he thinks it’s gonna make it all better.

If he keeps moving his hands like that, he’s probably right.  Lifting your ass off the bed one handed, he pulls your underwear off with other and gently settles you back down, crawling between your legs and resting on his knees.

Your eyes can’t focus and you decide to stay half asleep.  It’s too early to be awake on a Saturday and instead you relax against his touch.  His strong hands run over your thighs again and grace across your hips.  His fingers trace over the scar he caused since one of the beautiful boys he made in you was too big to come out on it’s own.  He leans forward and kisses along the lasting mark, whispering, “Beautiful.”

Continuing his explorations, he sits back up and works his grasp over your ribcage, teasing along the sides of your rounded breasts. A quick peek down and you can see your nipples stand at attention, responding to his caress.  You arch slightly off the bed and he chuckles as his hands continue to move north, collecting your hands and raising them above your head, holding them tightly there.  He lays over you, pressing your body to the bed with his weight on you, the most glorious feeling in the world.  His lips take yours and a flash of color fills your sleepy mind; you smile when the minty fresh taste of his mouth causes red, white and blue to swirl in your brain. His colors. Cap’s colors. The toothpaste colors…  Your lips pull back in a silly smile at the thought, breaking the kiss as he gently moves to kiss your cheek before pulling back and kissing the tender flesh at the crook of your elbow, resting by your ear.

His mouth works its way back down your arm and slides over to nip briefly at your aching peak and you arch your body to him again.  “What are you doing?  You hate morning sex?” You ask, your voice gruff from your sleep, the first sounds you’ve made all day.  Your throat feels scratchy and you hope you’re not- stop, focus, sexy husband loving on you…

“This isn’t sex.  This is love making.  I’m loving you,”  he replies as his kisses move down your belly.  His words give you goosebumps and you wonder at his meaning.  “Worshiping you…”

You can’t speak as your next breath is lost when he kisses against your heated mound, wanting him so badly to go down on you, as had been your hope last night.  Instead, his kisses are chaste and light, and he continues down your thighs, raising your leg to kiss the tender spot behind your knee, the spot he knows isn’t sexual, but you find so damn sexy.  Your hands above your head grasp at the air and you wish to reach to him, but you follow his unspoken directive and keep them there.

For the first time, you realize he is naked.  All of his touches have been about you and not trying to get anything in return and your heart swells with love for this wonderful man you had the good fortune to fall in love with and marry.  Keeping your leg raised, he wraps both hands around your calf, massaging deeply where you pulled it earlier in the week.  You moan in delight, and bite your lip at the actual pain his touch creates in the torn tissue.

“Too rough? Sorry,” and he lightens his pressure.

You can feel his eyes drinking you all in, but you don’t open yours.  Your mind is in a haze and just soaking in his love and attention.  He shifts on the bed again, and moves closer to you, tapping the head of his cock against the swollen lips of your throbbing pussy, tight with building desire.  “Want this?” he teases.

“Yes, please.”

He pulls back and says, “Not yet,” surprising you as he plunges two fingers deep inside your wet flow.  “Oh, baby, you’re so hot; so ready.” He wonders aloud, his voice deep with emotion.

His fingers slide in and out, teasing you, loving you, caressing over your taint.  He pulls out the wet and smears it around your outer lips, pushing down with his other hand on your mound, stopping your squirming.  “I think you want this?  Did you miss me this week?”

“You know I did.”

“Good.  I missed you too,” he whispers as he leans forward and pulls your nipple between his teeth.  You buck against him and he chuckles, his breath hot against your chest as he runs his nose over the valley between your beautiful breasts  Tracing the tip of his slightly crooked nose around the other pink bud he pauses before wrapping his tongue around it and sucking it in.

As his thick fingers see to their task, he shifts his body again and climbs up the bed.  When you open your eyes, you smile up at him and shake your head at his stance, his cock within tongue’s reach.  You open wide, not moving your hands, per his preference and he pushes into your warm hole, taking him in.  He sighs in relief and reaches to cup your cheek, running his thumb across your freckles, pumping in and out of your mouth, never giving you more than you can take. Mid stride you clamp your jaw, slightly using your teeth to hold him in place, to savour him as you wrap your tongue along the ridge of the top, caressing across the slit.  You suck in, dragging out the precum and enjoying his sweet taste.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he chuckles quietly and plucks his cock from between your teeth, rubbing the tight head against your soft pink lips.  “There we go; now your eyes have that dark look.  You want my cock, don’t you?”

Damn him.  “Yes, please.” You smile.

“Still to proud to beg?” he teases, “After all these years?”

“Why should I beg? You know you’ll give it to me… Your cock needs me.”

He climbs over you hovering with a sinister grin on his face.  “Oh, is that right?”  Rubbing his hard cock against your pulsing heat you twist your body at the agony of waiting.

Your eyes dance, a fire in them, knowing the game is about over.  “If you give it to me, I promise I’ll take real good care of it.”  Raising your body under his, his cock slips between your wet folds and he lunges forward, pushing you to the bed.

“That’s a good promise,” he moans, grinding against you, falling into your natural rhythms together.

“Shit,” You hiss.  “Wait; you need to wrap it up!”

You push against his massive chest, knowing it won’t actually budge.  He stills inside you, and your body reacts, opening up and allowing him to sink deeper into your succulent cavern. Traitor.

He drops forward on his elbows and you can feel him settling deeper against you.  His lips skim along the velvety skin of your inner arms before moving to take your mouth in his.  The kiss is so tender and filled with love; perfect.

“Why? Maybe it’s time to make another? You feel so right today and we said we’d try again for a little girl… Do I really have to pull out and get a condom?  Let’s stay in bed all day and make a baby… a little princess, as beautiful as her mother?  That sounds like a perfect Saturday, Mrs. Evans.”

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

Unseen Passions

Unseen passions.jpg

Unseen Passions

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris x OFC


Chris strays from his usual path and meets a woman different from anyone he’s been close with before… While doctoring her injury, he gets to know her better.

Warnings: NSFW, language, adult situations, oral sex, intercourse

Word Count: 5625

Running along the gravel road Chris is lost in his thoughts.  Getting away from the craziness of life on set and crazy late night antics with his castmates was a good decision.  A sign of maturity… Renting an old farmhouse in the country allows him to make a dent on the growing bucket list of things he wants to do with his life before he’s too damn old to enjoy them.  However… Although he enjoys the quiet solitude, he misses basic companionship. Someone to talk to in the lazy early morning hours; someone to cuddle with at the end of stressful day; someone…  Aware that his thoughts aren’t even really about sex, images of curves and soft skin fill his mind and he turns up the sound on his playlist to block out the noise in his head and increases his pace.

Coming over the crest of the hill, he wonders if he’s seeing things.  A very female form is crouched down in the gravel.  Continuing his easy strides, he pulls out his earbuds and readies himself to greet the other runner.

Feeling around for her phone, the sting of the gravel and cuts on her hands causing her eyes to tear.  She hears the sound behind her, a steady footfall and crunch of stone and shell.

“Who’s there?” she calls out turning her body to the noise.

The sound skids to a halt.  “Me? Chris?”  His vocal cadence flusters.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  I dropped my phone and can’t find it,” she huffs, still reaching around at her feet.

“It’s right here, behind you?  How can you miss the bright green color?” he teases bending to pick up the phone and trying to be inconspicuous about looking down her sports tank top where she’s nearly spilling out..

“Oh, thank you!” Standing up she turns to face his direction.  “Easy; I’m blind.”

“Oh, shit,” he whispers, taken aback at her response.

She laughs, “It’s okay; it’s not like it’s tattooed on my arm.” She gently rubs her hands together to brush off the loose gravel and hisses from the pain.

“Hey, you’re bleeding.  That looks pretty bad.  What happened?”  He takes in her athletic form quickly, but doesn’t see any other scrapes or cuts.

“Is there are a rock or tree limb or something?  I tripped.”

Chris sees the offending branch and kicks it out of the path.  “Yeah, a branch. Must have fallen in the storm the other night.”

“I guess so. I ran my other route the last day or two.”

“But, you’re… how?  How do you know where you’re going?”  Fuckin’ idiot. His curiosity got the better of him, and he spit out the words before he could correctly form a sentence with a little more sensitivity towards her disability.

“I can see things in certain light. That’s why the phone is a bright color.  It’s just too bright for me this afternoon to see anything.”  She taps the edge of her dark wrap around sunglasses.  “These aren’t just for fashion,” she laughs, shrugging her shoulders. “I just have a path I take. I know my way around and the neighbors know to watch out for me.  You must be renting the Johnson’s old place; he said to expect traffic up and down the road.”

“Yea; listen, your hands do look- um…”  Shit.  Can you say ‘look’ to a blind person?  “Your hands are bleeding and you might need help getting the little pieces of gravel out.”  Feeling obligated to help, he thinks quick.  “My rental isn’t far.  You don’t know me; would you wanna wait here and I can go get my ride and take you home? It’s a truck; you could even sit in the back, if you wanted.”

“Nah, I think I’m good.  Can I have my phone please?”  Placing it gently in her delicate hand, he watches curiously as she slides her hands down the cord to find the earbud, rising to hold it to her ear.  She listens for a few seconds before announcing, “I can make it back.  I didn’t sprain anything.  My hands caught my fall. I’m only about a mile and a half up, on the right.”

“How can you know that; how can you know where you are?”  Again with the dumb questions, Evans?!  Pretty sure she can’t see him, he face palms, shaking his head at his stupidity.

“My playlist.  I figure I lost a song while looking for my phone and talking to you; and I can already feel my legs getting tight.  But I will take you up on the offer to help clean my hands.  I don’t want an infection and I can’t get to town to the clinic today for Sally over there to help.  I’m guessing you must be in decent shape if you’ve already come up the hill from the Johnson’s.  Can you make the next hill with me?”

“You really can’t see me, can you?” he asks, laughter in his voice.  “Yea, I can make it up the hill to your place.  The big old farmhouse, with the wrap around porch?”

“That’s the one!  It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”  Before he can speak, she explains, “Like I said, I can see things in early morning light, but most of my sight is based on touch.  Give me your arm.”

She reaches out her hand and he steps to her, offering his extremity to her.  Feeling round his bicep, the attractive runner identifies a prominent vein running down his right arm.  His blood pumps energetically from his run and she follows the raised protrusion down to his wrist.   Her fingertips dance over the ridges there, turning his hand to touch his warmed palm briefly.  She giggles, slightly breathless.  “Yes. Definitely in shape.  I think you can make the hill.  Ready to get going?”

“Don’t you wanna know what I look like?  Like in movies, how people feel bone structure and stuff?”

“Dude. You’ve been running.  I can smell your pheromones.” Damn he smells good.  “You’re sweaty from your run; I am not touching your face.”  Laughing, she pulls her leg up behind her for a quick stretch.  “Besides,” she begins to jog in place, “if you are half as cute as you sound, I’m not too worried, Bahstin.”

She takes off running and yells back, “Don’t watch too long before you decide to catch up.”

Just for that he does pause to watch her bounce away before joining her.  “On your left,” he announces, and then has to stop himself from outright laughing.  He keeps pace with her, looking over occasionally to watch the slight bounce of her tits. Shortly before reaching the house, she goes for an all out sprint and he races to catch up, finding her on the sidewalk in front of the beautiful old home, talking on the phone.

“Yeah, I just ran up the drive… No, I fell, but I’m fine… I’m only two songs behind Gram…. I should have known you’d be timing me….Just a scrape on my palms…. Right. I need to go inside now and clean them up, but I gotta stretch first.”  As she talks, she tentatively reaches in front of her, and finding the low railing along the steps, she throws her leg up and leans over her it,stretching, sticking her ass out for Chris to admire.  “I promise, I’ll let it air out before I bandage it…  Gram. Gram.  I am a grown woman. I’ve been on my own before. Just cause I moved back here doesn’t mean I need you watching me every day… I’m fine. Really…  Really. I have to go. A friend is here for dinner…  Yes… Okay?  Thursday. Two o’clock?  I can’t wait!  Kisses, Gram.  Bye.”

Chris watches as she stretches and grows hard as he concentrates on her lithe body moving through her motions.  Damn; a feminine distraction wasn’t really how he intended his stay in the country to go, but a little admiration never hurt.

“Like what you see?” she laughed, motioning for him to follow her into the house.

“What?  No.  I wasn’t staring.  I was stretching.” He’s almost grateful she can’t see the blush on his face or the hard-on he has in his pants.

“Uh- uh. I don’t believe you.”  She giggles, opening the screen door. “So would you like to stay for dinner?  It’s the least I can do since you’re being kind enough to help me clean my hands.  Nothing fancy.  Just a roast and potatoes in the crock pot.”

The aroma of the cooking food hit his gut the minute he stepped inside the comfortable farmhouse.  His mouth starts to water, having lived on his sparse cooking for one during the last few days.  “It smells amazing; sure. I’d love to stay.”

“I don’t make a habit of inviting strange men in.  I was vague on the phone.  Gram will call and check on me later,” she says, almost as a warning, leaning against the wall to pull off her shoes.

He throws his head back in laughter and steps on the heel of one shoe, pulling his foot out and kicking it out of her way before removing the other.

Following her into the living room, he watches as she lightly walks on her tip toes maneuvering through a maze of stacked books.

“This way,” she instructs.  “The light in this guest bath will be better and there’s a first aid kit under the sink.”

He chases behind and bumps into a stack of books, knocking it over.  He quickly rights the stack, embarrassed by his clumsiness quickly rubbing at his toe.

“Nice going. And I’m the blind one,” she teases.  Biting back laughter, she wonders about this man she’s invited into her home.  Lord, I know I prayed for someone to brighten my day, don’t let this be a cruel joke.  He gives off a confident air, but she senses a loneliness to him and it calls out to the emptiness she finds within herself.  He strikes her as charming and playful, but a bit awkward too; almost like a little boy still at heart.  Like he spends his life playing pretend. He seems at ease with her but she feels her lack of sight throws him off balance, like he’s used to being on view..

“Fuck, that book was heavy.” He mumbles as he continues walking, taking in the eclectic decor of the home.  He shakes his head at his clumsiness.  Dude, pull it together.

“Braille.” She snickers.  “Was it the stack by the standing lamp?”

Looking back over his shoulder, he replies, “Yeah, it was.”

“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.  It’s nine volumes.  I just stack them because they kept breaking shelves in my old place.  Here, they’re just part of the decor and I don’t have to listen to my ex complain,” she laughs. “Don’t sue if your toe is broken. You were the klutz who didn’t see where he was going.”

Focusing on the word ‘ex’ he smiles at the meaning behind the tidbit she’s just shared, wondering if it was for his benefit or just conversation.  “Sure, ‘cause I’d want to tell someone I broke my toe when a Potter book landed on it,” he guffaws, a lyrical sound filling the room.

Turning towards his voice she pauses in the open space and grins warmly.. “It’s a small room.  Why don’t you step in first and get the kit from under the sink?” she suggests, holding her arm towards the entrance.

Chris brushes past her and she feels his mass against her chest, realizing for the first time his full size and build.  She senses a change in him, as he turns serious.  “Ok. I may have been a klutz in the living room, but I promise I’ll be careful in here and with your hands.  I’m gonna wash up first, okay?”  He reaches under the counter and finds the first aid kit she mentioned.  Looking around, he takes in other items needed to doctor her wounds.  “I’m guessing I can use the towels hanging here?”

Stepping into the room behind him, she reaches out, touching the satin trim.  “Yup, these are fine to use.”

As he washes up, he talks to her quietly and introduces himself again simply as ‘Chris,’ exchanging names and pleasantries.  “So how long have you lived here?”

The two make small talk as he gently attends to the minor lacerations, tenderly flushing out the gravel with a water rinse.

“I’m kinda creating a shadow over your hand.  Can you sit up on the counter so I can see better?”  God damn, how many more references can I make to vision?  He shakes his head, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.  Smirking, he scowls at his sweat stained face, smudged with dirt from the gravel road. He grabs another towel and cleans himself up a bit, just for his own sake, regardless of the fact she can’t see him.

“Sure.  Um, I can’t really put pressure on my hands to climb up.”  She sighs.  “Can you lift me?”

Oh fuck.  Chris looks at her curvy hips and doesn’t even worry about hiding his smug visage.


He pauses a second too long, holding his breath before responding. I swear, I’m not making excuses to touch her, he chides himself.  But damn, those are some nice curves.   “Alright, on the count of three, I’m gonna put my hands on your hips.  Bounce and I’ll lift you up.”

With athletic acuity, she follows his directive and he sets her gently on the marbled counter top, her skin warm and damp from the late afternoon run. His hands briefly caress down her thighs before lifting away and he hears her breath catch.   “Thanks,” she expresses quietly.

Exhaling to ease the pain as he continues cleaning her cuts, she is surrounded by his scent.  She hadn’t been teasing about his pheromones; his manly aroma is nearly overpowering in the small space.  Sweat, cologne and a woodsy smell greet her nose and laughter bubbles inside as she thinks about the Potter books he toppled over.  Yeah. That would be my damn love potion.  Battling to focus on his words, she does her best to ignore the rising heat his fragrance builds up from her inner core.

Continuing the small talk, Chris lets his eyes wander over her frame while he works.  Whatever her job, it’s obvious she takes care of herself.  Tight and toned, she has a dancer’s body and a sense of grace to her movements.  Her skin has a sun-kissed look, and the flowers in front of the house give evidence to her working outside.  Her delicate features are sprinkled with freckles and she wears no make-up to hide the slight imperfections to her skin.  He wonders briefly about the small scar on her chin and smiles at the haphazardly cut row of bangs across her forehead.

Using tweezers to remove the larger pieces of gravel, he tries to distract her with chatter, never letting the conversation rest on him.  He is surprised to look up and discover she’s removed her dark shades.  Her eyes are a crystal clear blue, reminding him of a TV character he had a crush on when he was a young boy.  She winces from the pain and tries to pull away, tears forming in her eyes.  “Fuck, that hurt,” she whispers.

“I’m so sorry.  I think that’s the last of the gravel,” he says caressing his thumb over the back of her hand as he inspects her palm closely.  “Ok, you’re gonna hate this next part. But there was peroxide under the sink. I really think I need to clean the cuts with it.  That shit always stings.”

“Damn,” she sighs. “I can’t get it infected; yea. Use it.  If you have to,” she whines.

He holds her hand a bit tighter as she starts to pull away.  “I didn’t even open the bottle yet. Why are you squirming?” he chuckles working to ignore the fact he’s grown hard as her toned legs have bumped against him from her movements.

She giggles. “Conditioning. My mother used to pour that on, no warning. It stings so bad.”

“I promise; I’ll fix it so it won’t sting.”  She smells so nice; like lavender and her skin has a musky scent from her run.  What was it she’d said about pheromones earlier?  Just being near her calms him; he hasn’t met someone like her in a long time.

“Yup; that’s what she used to always say too. Don’t lie. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch,” she laughs.  Chris’s mirth joins hers and he turns to hold her hand over the sink.

“I like the sound of your laugh,” she confides to him.  “It’s vibrant and full of life.  I think it tells a lot about who you are.  Easy to be with…. I like that.”

Blushing, he simply states his thanks, but can’t think of a true response.   There’s something so simple, so innocent about being with her knowing she can’t see him. Keying into her rising attraction as she leans closer to him, he realizes her pulse becomes more rapid with each slight touch of his hand against hers.  Chris feels a sense of pride that it has nothing to do with his looks for a change.

“Ok, just hold your hand right like this, balanced on mine.”  He holds her hand gently and begins to sprinkle the chemical over her open palm, leaning forward to gently blow across her skin, attempting to cool the heat as the medicine bubbles.  He watches as goosebumps form on her arms, and he raises his eyes momentarily on level with her perfect tits, seeing that her nipples are straining against her sport bra, although sweat from their run still shines on her face.  He struggles to control himself and grunts, “Other hand.”

He repeats the same actions and bites his lip when she involuntarily moans.

“Damn,” she sighs, her breath light.  “That’s kinda sexy.”

Taking her wrist, he pulls her slowly to him, praying he read the signs right.  “Uh-huh; it is,” he growls lowly the sound rumbling between them in the small room.  Dragging his fingertips up her neck, he leans in for a kiss, pushing his hands in the loose hair falling from her bedraggled pony tail.  Sighing quietly, she holds the injured hand out of the way, resting it on his shoulder. The fingertips of the other grasp across his chest, searching for the hem of his shirt and giving it an upwards tug.  Oh, thank God…

“Really sexy,” she whispers, pulling away from the kiss before moving in for more.  She struggles one handed to pull up his shirt, sticking to his body from perspiration. She moans in frustration.  He reaches over behind his neck and tugs the collar of the shirt, separating his lips from hers for a brief moment before crashing back into her.

Replacing her arm over his shoulder, she lets her hand dangle over his back.  With her other hand, she drags the back of her fingertips slowly over his chest ‘seeing’ every detail.  Her fingers play with the tiny hairs across his belly as their kisses rise in need.  Continuing her search, she stops at his Bardsley tat, skin slightly raised, and pulls back simply whispering against his plump bottom lip.  “A tattoo?”

“Yeah; in memory of a good friend,”  he explains, taking her mouth back in his,catching his bottom lip against her top one as his hands wrap around her back, growing with impatience as he slides them down to knead her ass in her tight yoga pants.  Spreading her legs, he moves between them, his cock straining against his shorts, demanding attention. Her hand over his shoulder begins to explore as well and she discovers the chain of his medallion and gives it a tug, biting into his skin. She runs her finger down it until she reaches the charm, smoothing her fingers over the raised metal.  “Saint Christopher? To protect you away from home?”

He nods yes, realizing she can’t see him. He moves from her mouth stating, “I travel a lot.”  His lips return to her salty skin, kissing along her jawline and slowly alternating between kisses and bites until reaching her ear.  “You smell so sweet,” he compliments.

She counters with, “You’re so solid.”  Amazed by her own bold moves, she decides to just go with it.  Chance encounters with men rarely happen in her life…  Live a little; have some fun…

He chuckles gruffly, shifting his hard cock against her hot covered mound.  “You could help with that?”

“I could,” she replies, her voice full of mirth.  “I’m a little defenseless; I can’t really use my hands.” Pausing, she breathes out slowly, her voice low and seductive when it returns. “You could help me out of this damn bra.”

“You sure?” he asks, his hands already sliding up her back, running his fingers under the elastic band. His large hands tantalize, cupping around under the fabric, teasing at the sides of her breasts.  He pulls his lips back, dropping his vision to watch her chest heave, her nipples growing hard again as he continues his light touch.

“I’m really injured.  I may need help out of all my clothes,” she seduces.  Why not?

Taking his cue, he slowly raises both her arms above her head, caressing back down her toned muscles, smiling when she giggles at his feathery touch. “All the clothes, huh?”

“Well, it’s the least you could do to help,” she slowly breathes out, leaning forward for another kiss before he pulls the clammy sports bra over her head, her rounded tits bouncing free, perky and high, a hint of a summer tan line still remaining.  His sharp intake of breath at the sight brings a smile to her face.  She blushes.  “Admiring again?”

He grins back, nodding his head adamantly, free in the idea she can’t see him. “Fuck; I can’t take my eyes off you.  Perfect.”

She giggles.  “Look all you want; I don’t mind.”

Leaning forward again, declaring lowly “I think I’ll take a closer look then,” he closes his mouth over one of her pretty pink nipples, pushing his body against hers.  She drops her arms over his back, feeling his smooth skin, trying to control her breathing.

Arching to him she scoots her bottom forward on the counter, wrapping her legs around his tapered hips.  She locks her ankles behind his back gently tapping his ass with her heels with each sway of their bodies, his strong arms wrapped around her back.

hugs veins.gif

Carefully moving a hand between them she makes her way round front to the waistband of his track shorts. Sweat pools and the garment is wet to her touch but she can feel his radiating heat; his covered cock twitching to be free. She is careful with her sore hand and Chris moves between them to relieve himself of the confines of his clothing and places his thick rod in her outstretched hand.  Both sigh on contact, her hand gently holding him, squeezing and feeling his girth.

Chris releases her nipple with a tug, leaning away from her to watch her hands slide over him. Her fingertips trail along the prominent ridges to the base, gently brushing over his tightened balls and she smiles wickedly. “Everything about you seems big, huh?”

Chuckling, with no true response, he returns his hands to her hips, pulling her forward and she leans against his solid muscular frame. The shift lifts her ass from the counter and allows him to remove her remaining clothing in one swift movement. His fingers corner her V, massaging the crease where her legs meet her pussy, his thumbs dipping in her wet. Pushing the heel of his palms against her, she rolls her hips into his hands silently begging for him to touch her deeper. She tugs his hard rod, pulling him closer to her.

“I saw condoms under the counter?” he grunts.

“Uh-huh. I can’t help,” she holds her hands up. “Damaged? Remember?”

“That’s okay, honey, I think I got practice with that.”  Balancing one strong hand on her thigh, he holds her in place on the counter, stepping out of his clothing pooled at his ankles before crouching down to grab one of the condoms.

From his position he is right at the perfect height to provide her some oral satisfaction. Pushing her legs further apart, she straddles over the front of the counter and opens her wide to see her swollen lips, dripping with her desire.  With no warning, he leans forward and laps at her sweet nectar.

“Oh, fuck,” she cries out in surprise, hitting her fist against her thigh, feeling for the top of his head before winding her hands in his hair, tugging at the short ends.  “Damn, warn a girl,” she mocks, feeling the soft hair between her fingers, ignoring the pain in her battered hands.

He only mumbles against her cunt, his tongue continuing its work.  Flicking down each side of her walls, he nibbles and sucks along the way, holding his hands against her tight thighs and massaging her toned flesh.  He wraps around her delicate button, tugging and pulling with his teeth gently.

“Hey there, Bahstin soldier boy, it’s been a while for me; take it easy.  I don’t wanna come too quick.”

Her words catch him off guard.  He pulls back, completing a long lick. “Soldier? Why’d you say that?” He’s curious about her word choice, wondering if she somehow knows who he is, but not enough to break the moment.  He uses one hand to continue to drag though the additional juices he’s created in her.

She runs the tips of her fingers over his hair again, looking down but not really seeing him, twisting to push her throbbing cunt against his hand.  “Fresh shave, short hair, built like a fuckin’ brick wall… Gotta be military or something, cause your body is just ridiculous.”

He joins in her laughter, relaxing again with the thought she has no idea who he is or what he looks like; it’s a freeing notion.  Standing to full height again, he continues pumping his hand in and out of her hot box, bringing the other to clutch at her breast.  She drops her head and it rolls to the side, lost in the ecstasy he provides, stretching her neck gracefully, exposing her tender flesh.  His lips call and he has a desire to cover her in hickeys.  Dropping his mouth to her skin, he tastes again the salty sweat and dust from the run along the gravel road.  He washes over her skin before grasping with his teeth and bearing down momentarily.  He releases with a pop satisfied with the beginning of a mark to add to later.

“Hey, just because I can’t see it doesn’t mean others won’t.  Can’t really wear a scarf to water aerobics tomorrow,” she ribs, pushing him away playfully with the back of her hand before sliding her hand up his bicep across his strapping shoulder to wrap around his neck. She pulls him forward and commands huskily, “Do it again.”

He laughs at her playfulness and obliges in her desire, his mouth and hands creating a rising need, teasing them both by dragging his stiff rod against her thighs, building his own longing as he attends to hers, this beautiful stranger.  As her whimpers become louder and fraught with a tinge of pain, he releases his hold to roll the condom on, not worrying about creating a show of it.  He is surprised when one of her hands drops to his and she trails her fingertips over his hand, running from base to tip as he snaps the latex in place.  “Beautiful,” she whispers.  “I bet you’re simply beautiful.”

Lifting one of her legs over his arm, he smiles as she drags her fingertips through her own mess and wipes down the length of his covered cock. Wrapping her other leg around him, she pulls him close and he lines up to enter her, sinking deep inside.  Making no effort to move, her held breath audibly indicates to him she needs time to adjust to his size.

“God, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he favors. “You feel so good on my cock,” complimenting as he slowly begins to push in and out of her.  The sound of slapping flesh, her squishy wetness and quiet whimpers from them both fill the room.

Her head drops to his shoulder and she bites down on the sinewy tissue between her teeth. Cantoring against his supple skin, she confides,  “Fuck, Bahstin, those noises turn me on.”  Running her tongue over his flesh, she bites again, calling forth a yelp from his lips.  “Like that,” she smiles, her lips upturned sinfully.

Maintaining his hold on her, he picks her up from the counter, turning to push her against the wall behind them in the close space. It begins to dawn on him that she needs to hear their lovemaking, as she can’t see it.   Shifting her higher in his arms, he moans loudly aiding her auditory need as her nipples drag against his chest.  Feverishly he pulls her down on his rigid cock, her foot hitting against the small of his back.  Fucking her against the wall, their movements rattle the hanging picture frames and his breath catches with each fervid thrust.

“Hell, yes,” she sighs, falling into a heavenly cacophony of sounds, bringing her to the edge of a release in ways she didn’t think were possible.  As her utterances grow in volume, his growls follow suit, a torrent of noise enveloping her.

Her body tenses as he pushes her against the wall again, so powerfully she can barely breath.  Her fingernails dig into the flesh on his broad shoulder and bicep, ignoring the pain in her hands. Cries of pleasure and want urge him to continue, pumping faster as he thrusts up harder, pushing deeper into her sweet hole.  “Fuck, babe, I’m close. Can you come first?” He rumbles in her ear, his breath hot against her skin, leaving a trace of his sweat on her neck. The resonance of his voice rolls through her, creating the tightening in her belly she craves.

“Uh-huh, yea; almost,” she whines, her mewls lustful and needy, adding to Chris’s devotion as well.

As their mouths meet to capture one another’s sounds, he moves away from the wall, releasing his grip under her briefly to smack her ass. As the sting burns her behind, the timbre echoes in the room. The noise itself tilts her over the edge as she falls, bouncing against his cock, crying out, “God, yes; I’m coming, I’m coming.”

With her pussy bearing down on him, he thrusts upward a few more times before he spills, filling the condom full.  Knees weakening, he spins to sit her back down on the counter, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he silently enjoys his release, burying his head in the crook of her neck, lips tenderly against her skin; elated to be connected with someone again.

Her heart pounds loudly in her ears, as does his labored breathing.  The sensation of being well used makes her smile as she draws her hands across his broad muscular back.  She’d forgotten how much she’d missed the contact of a man and indulges in this quiet time together.

She hears him rattling around the bathroom and the snap of the condom.  She can’t wipe the smile off her face as she follows his sound, imagining what he might truly look like, hoping she might have the opportunity sometime to see him in the right light.  His presence halts and his fingertips grace under her chin, lifting her head up.  His contented sigh speaks volumes to her well-tuned ears.  “We should probably wash those cuts again?” he suggests, cautiously taking her hands in his and rinsing them again.  He also uses a wash cloth to clean over her mound, caring to clean the delightful mess he made of her.

Wrapping a towel around her, he lifts her and carries her from the counter.  “You gotta be sore from the hard surface? I’ll massage you down; I promise,” he vows, resting his forehead to hers. Stepping into the living room, buck naked, he pauses.  He looks to her innocent face and laughs, “Where am I taking you?”

“Depends on what you have in mind?” she asks quietly, the cocoon of the bathroom broken. Not sure what to expect next; never having had sex with a random stranger in her bathroom before, she doesn’t know what to say.

Chris hears the insecurity in her voice and isn’t quite sure of himself either, so he says the first thought that comes to mind.  “A hot shower, from our run and other… activities.” He cocks his eyebrow, but realizes this winning gesture is lost on her.  What a challenge she could be!  He ponders momentarily.  None of my visual tricks would work…  Shifting back to the now, he completes his thought.  “Then that pot roast.  It smells amazing. And maybe round two before breakfast in the morning? I have some work to attend to tomorrow, but I could be back in time for another evening run?”

“I like the sound of that plan, Bahstin.  The master bath is up the stairs… What kinda work you got?”

Sweetly kissing the top of her head, he replies cheekily, “Oh, you know, just saving the world, fighting off bad guys; nothing serious.”

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


An Unexpected Friendship


An Unexpected Friendship

By avenger-nerd-mom

On a flight home to Boston, Chris meets two interesting women, one older and one younger


Warnings: Fluff, Language, Adult situations

Word Count 1430

Exhausted from a week of meetings,  Chris pulls the window shade down and nearly collapses against the wall.  Moments later he is caught between awake and sleep when he feels his seat mates approach. He keeps his head low and does his best to ignore them, pretending to be asleep.

The sound of a small child’s whispers, a jumble of unintelligible sounds is heard as ‘it’ crawls into the space next to him.

“Shhh, Lilly, don’t wake him,” a soft feminine voice whispers, a hint of an accent.

Oh, great, a kid. Chris wishes he’d put in his ear buds as soon as he’d sat down, but it’s too late now.  He’ll have to listen to kid chatter the whole way to Boston, and won’t get any rest.

Mother and child shift and settle themselves.  “Mummy,” the child addresses, as the distinct sound of a tiny British accent fills his ears,  “he’s quite handsome.”

“Shhh, Lilly,” the woman replies, obviously tired from travel and her child’s quips and comments.  “Here chew this gum so your ears don’t pop.”

Chris relaxes as the child seats herself, calm and quiet. He’s sat next to adult passengers who have been more noisy and annoying than this child.  He recognizes that this time maybe he lucked out.

“Mummy, he has a beard.” The child shifts in her seat, kicking her foot against Chris’s leg.  He grits his teeth silently, determined to keep up the pretense that he’s asleep.

“I see that darling.  Shhh… let the poor man rest.  He seems very tired.” She buckles in the child and hands over a beloved toy.  “Now, please, snuggle Dolly and let’s rest.  You want to be alert when we get to Grammie’s.”

Chris finds he struggles to fall asleep now.  The lilt of the little girl’s accent plays tricks on his mind, but eventually he drifts to sleep as the plane reaches flying altitude.

He wakes with a startle when he feels a hand on his cheek, softly playing with his beard.  His eyes pop open to find the little girl standing in her seat next to him, gently touching his face.  His anger swells, but he knows better than to snap at a child.  He sees the worn out woman is sleeping,  but he reaches across and shakes her shoulder.

“Hey,  lady,” he says, his voice gravelly from interrupted slumber.  “Wake up.”

He shakes her again, while the child rests her tiny hand on his broad shoulder. “Dammit,” he mutters. “Wake up.”

“You said a bad word,” the little girl scolds him, her ringlet curls bouncing as she points her finger at him.

You woke me up.  How’d you get out of your seat belt?”

“I wanted to touch your beard.  I loosened it and crawled out.”  Her small grin shows she’s quite proud of herself.

“You sneaky little shi-”

“Sir! Do not swear at my child!”  The young mother mumbles in confusion, anger in her obvious tone with him, waking to find a strange man scolding her child.  “What is going on?!”

“Your kid woke me up, touching my face.  It’s creepy! If you’re gonna travel alone you need to keep an eye on your kid,” Chris informs her gruffly.  “She’s not even buckled up.”

The woman shakes her head, rubbing her eyes and pulling herself up from her slumber.  Looking to her child, she sees that indeed the young girl has escaped. Her tone is exasperated. “Lilly! Why are you out of your seat?”

The little girl’s eyes fill with tears, confused by her mother’s anger.  “I just wanted to know if his beard was soft like daddy’s was before he went to heaven.”

Ah, fuck. Chris pinches the bridge of his nose and runs his hand down, stroking over his beard,  tugging the scruffy ends in thought.  “Shit,” he mumbles. Why me? He rests his head back against the seat and sighs.

Struggling against her mother’s efforts to sit her back down, the little girl taps his arm. “Sir. You said another bad word.”

Seeing the little girl’s eyes fill with tears, he clears his throat, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “I did. Sometimes I do that.  It’s not nice and I’m sorry. I think you need to sit back down so you’re safe. “

He looks over to the young woman, a combination of irritation and relief on her face.

“Lilly, right? Let’s get you back in your seat.  Did you need a snack?”

Chris reaches up to the call button before shifting in his seat to help settle the little girl. He smiles as she squirms back into the seat belt she had loosened and crawled out of, all without her mother’s knowledge.

“Yes, I’m Lilly Potter! How did you know?” she asks with wonder.

Before Chris can reply an attendant appears, “Yes, Mr. Evans, how can I help you?”

“Bring us lots of snacks and apple juices please,” he replies with fake warmth, trying to mask his sleepiness, feeling guilty for responding rudely and cursing at a small child. It’s like he can feel his mama smacking him up the backside of his head.

She looks down at the young girl and grins, oblivious to the glare of the child’s mother.  “Yes, sir.  I’ll be right back.”

“We have snacks.  You can’t just go giving food to strange children,” the woman reproaches him.  “She has food allergies,” the woman explains curtly.

“Fine, then when the food gets here you can pick out what she can and can’t have,” his tone holds to his ice as well. Something about this woman is off putting.  Although he feels bad for the fatherless child,  the widowed woman doesn’t garner his sympathy.

It dawns on Chris he’s heard the child’s name before.  “Lilly Potter? Like the book?”

The little girl beams with pride, “Oh, yes! Those were my father’s favorite books and I’m my mummy’s favorite flower!”

Chris tightens the buckle and lowers the tray for their shared snack.  The child continues to chatter away.  Although exhausted, Chris resigns himself to now spending the remainder of the flight as her new best friend. “You have pretty eyes. What’s your name? I’m almost five.”

“I thought you were five! That was my guess! I have a niece who is about your age,” he replies.

He bites back a sinister laugh when the flight attendant bumps the mother in the head as she hands the snacks to him and he arranges them on the tray.  “Mummy?” the child asks, her voice unsure.  She leans to whisper to her mother, who is rubbing the top of her head ruefully, “I don’t think I can eat these.”

The woman sighs, “Oh, Lilly, darling, you can’t.  I’m sorry.  That’s why strangers shouldn’t offer food to children they don’t know,” she says pointedly, so Chris can hear her verbal jab.  “But I have your special crackers in my bag and-”

“But mummy, I want to share my snack with the cute man,” the child whispers loudly.  At the tender age of ‘almost five,’ the child has not developed the skill of whispering yet.  Chris can see the child’s repeated comments about his good looks are grating on the young mother’s nerves.

The woman laughs, “Oh, dear, sweet child!  You will be the end of me!” She drops her voice, hoping only her daughter will hear her scolding.  “You can’t keep talking about his looks.  It isn’t polite.”  Raising her voice again, she continues,  “You can share your crackers!”

Chris acknowledges to himself the sound of her laugh is rather nice.  “Excuse me.  Lilly? I’m sorry you can’t have those snacks.  Ask your mom if you could have the apple I have in my bag instead.”  When the dark haired woman smiles her thanks and nods her head yes, Chris notices her hazel eyes are filled with worry and concern, and mirror his own sleeplessness.

“Lilly, I might like some of your special crackers too,” he says as he swipes the unsatisfactory snacks from the tray into his bag under the seat and pulls out a large ruby red apple. Special crackers probably have no flavor and taste like cardboard. Yea!  The mother places a small packet of crackers on the tray.  Chris leans to the small girl and whispers “Maybe your mom can nap while we snack?  It’s nice to meet you, Lilly.  I’m Chris.”
Copyright © 2016 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Bringing Sunshine to Boston

brining Sunshine to Boston August 29 2016

Bringing Sunshine to Boston

A Sunshine Story

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris X plus size OFC Sunshine

Actor Chris Evans brings his girlfriend “Sunshine” to Boston to meet the family, but they make a quick stop at his house first

Warnings: NSFW, Language, Adult Situations, Oral Sex, Restraints, Fingering, Nipple Play, Rough Sex, Intercourse, Aftercare

Word Count: 2979

Chris nervously unlocks the front door.  “Ok now, honey, don’t judge.” He chuckles as he reaches in to turn on the lights.  “This place needs a make-over too, but you know I really don’t care.  I probably wouldn’t even have hired you in the first place if it wasn’t for that stupid magazine article.”

“Really selling me on it, dear.  Move. Let me see how bad it is,” I push him aside and step into Chris’s Boston home.  We’ve got a few hours to kill before meeting his family at his mother’s house for dinner and due to… events on the morning plane ride, we both need to freshen up.

Chris laughs and says, “Be my guest.” He carries our bags in from the porch as I walk from room to room.  Cream. Very little color. Few personal accents.  I can’t believe what I see.  It makes me really sad for him.  After a quick survey of the ground floor I meet him at the steps.  His blue and white baseball jersey t-shirt is the most colorful thing present in the foyer.

“Damn, honey.  You live here right?  I thought Boston was home and would be different,” I shake my head sadly.

Confused, Chris raises his eyebrow.  “What? It’s nice, right? Minimalist? Clean lines?”

I put my hand over his beating heart on his solid chest.  “Christopher, it looks like Ikea threw up in here and it has no personality.  Where are you?  Where’s your heart in it? Things you love?” I look around the open space and physically cringe.  “I really thought LA was just your show place, and this would really be you.  Earthy, dark woods, leather. Color. Something.  What the fuck, babe? I just wanna rush to the nearest hardware store and get buckets of paint.”

Leaning against the rail, Chris seems a little crushed.  “I really thought you’d like it.”

I lean into him, caressing my hand across the prickly beard on his cheek.  “Oh, pet, don’t get me wrong.  I love the windows, and the natural light.  It is nice and streamlined, but it’s not what I expected from you.  This is just another showcase house.  Where do you get to really be you?”


The bedroom is an improvement, definitely more of what I was hoping to see.  Hanging in beautiful frames are enlarged photos he tells me he took himself of his spiritual trip to India a few years ago.  The taupe colored walls are accented by the large four poster bed.   And covered in decorative pillows.  There must be twenty.  Throwing them all to the floor, I wait for him to finish his shower.

I admire his personal effects on the oak shelves surrounding the bed, photos of close friends and family, mementos of his travels courtesy of Marvel.  Smiling, I drag my fingertips over dusty framed pieces of artwork, a collection of Cap that younger children have obviously given to him over the years.  The types of things he should have on display through the whole house.  

I settle down among the pillows and wait. He’s taking forever.  When the bathroom door opens I can hear him step into the room, but I know he can’t see me on the floor, over the height of the bed.

“Sunshine?” he asks quizzically.

Popping up on my knees, only my head is visible to him over the top of the fluffy down comforter.  My breath catches at the sight of him in just a towel, wrapped low on his waist.

london towel

Drops of water still bead in his chest hair and his short summer haircut sticks up in all directions.  In the dim light with the shades drawn, the black ink on his skin appears sinister and a chill runs down my spine. A heat rushes to my core and I’m instantly ready for however he wants to spend the afternoon.  After I get what I want.   Patting the padded surface, my voice is flirtatious and sultry.  “Why don’t you come around here, big boy?”

A smile breaks across his face. “What’d you do with all the pillows?” he asks.

“You’ll see.”

Watching him step around the edge of the bed, he surveys the mountain of pillows underneath and surrounding my naked figure and he chuckles.

“Well, hello beautiful,” he whistles between his teeth.  I adore that he says he loves my plump curves, that my love handles are just more of me for him to hold on to when we make love. And when he responds that way, I believe him.

“Your ass just begs for a spanking.”

I can see he’s already sprung to attention, wondering what I have in mind.

Patting the bed again, I drop my arm to open a space for him to move in front of me, to sit on the bed.  He sits naturally, resting one hand on his thigh, spreading his legs, smiling when I lick my lips and reach my hand up under the towel.  My hand wraps around his warm cock, heated from the shower.  With a few tight grasps and squeezes, he grows harder at my attentions.  “Mmm… Big boy is exactly right,” I murmur, reaching with my other hand to pull the towel lose.

Chris leans back on his hands, taking a deep breath of contentment as I brush my full lips across his head.  I tease him a bit, toying with him as I simply run his head back and forth over my closed mouth, my tongue occasionally darting out to lick his soft velvety skin.

That action elicits a groan from the back of his throat. “Babe, you’re teasing.”

My lips kiss down the side of his shaft, wet and sloppy, humming,  “Mmm- hmm.  Just like you teased me on the plane.”

Chuckling, his head drops forward to his chest to watch.  “I finally let you come,” he reminds me, his voice lust filled as he grows under my touch.

Kissing back up the other side, adding the intermittent nibble, I respond,  “Uh-huh, after edging me four times…”

“Was it only four? Yea, don’t do that to me,” he snickers.  “I fuckin’ hate it.”

His words sound distant to my ears as I focus on doing what I love best; making my man melt.  Bringing my luscious opening over the top of his head, I pull him in, taking his swollen tip into my hot, wet mouth. My lips wrap around the sweet bell, skimming my teeth just slighting and dragging my manicured fingertips up his thighs.  He lets out a quiet hiss as my thumbs massage at the space between his legs, gently applying pressure under his balls, soft and tender.

Stroking my tongue across his slit, I savor the taste of him on my tongue.  With each advance I take more of him in slowly.  Titling my head back, I watch his response.  I pull off, teasing “Hmm… you’d hate that would you?”

“Fuck,” he growls, realizing he’s unwittingly given me a challenge.

His eyes lock on mine as I confidently pull him back inside my cherished oral space, my lips flush against his shaft, sliding up and down as my hands continue their tease.

He slides forward on the bed pushing into my mouth with a thrust.  His pupils dilate and the sea of blue is lost as his need clouds his vision.

My hands extend their roaming, my thumbs dipping between his ass cheeks and flitting across his rim in a stimulating rhythmic pattern.  His groan stirs my gut and I become aware of the pooling of juices inside my pussy,  waiting for my turn.  My eyes close as I continue my task, sloppily sucking him, pulling him close to his desired end.  He shifts as he sits up, winding his hands in my hair, holding me firmly on his cock.  I struggle against him and he grasps tighter. Clenching my jaw at his force, I dig my teeth slightly into his flesh,my tongue lapping against his hard cock as he holds me firmly.

“No biting,” he warns, pulling my hair tight, tilting my head back to look up at him.

My mouth releases it’s steady hold around his cock into a knowing smile, but I can’t comment back at the moment.  He uses his grip to hold me in place as he lifts his hips and thrusts into my mouth, repeating the rough action several times until my eyes water.  Nearly reaching his limits, he pulls out and pushes me onto my back into the pile of pillows.

“Maybe they’re good for something after all,” he bitches about the pillows as he falls to the floor next to me, leaning on his elbow.  With one hand between my thick thighs and the other grasping my ample breast he starts to work me over.  Pulling one of my tits to his mouth, he sucks in quickly and grasps my nipple between his teeth.  A shocked cry escapes my lips as he also penetrates between my folds with two fingers, pushing hard to find the magic spot. “You like being teased; you’re still wet,” he praises.

My hands reach for his cock but he pushes one out of the way, bringing it above my head and holding it down firmly.  Fingering me roughly he continues to suckle at my breast as I pull and tug on his hard rod.  I raise my ass off the floor to push harder into his hand, wanting more than he’s already giving.  Gyrating against him, he slides another finger in.  Happy with his acceptance of my silent directions, I drop my ass back to the floor and raise my feet up on the bed behind him.  He continues to finger me, turning his hand so his palm brushes against my clit with each drive.   The pressure causes me a flash of pain, changing the sounds of my moans. He looks up from my tit, but through gritted teeth I tell him not to stop.

His grip on my wrist is stronger as he moves to take the other nipple between his teeth.  My free hand holds his balls, carefully yanking and rolling between my fingers.  He knows if he gets too rough, I won’t go easy on him and I snort with laughter at the thought.  He laughs at me, probably having no idea why I’m amused during our sex. His deep baritone sound vibrates through me and a searing heat hits me in the middle. He continues to palm me. Thrusting in with his beautiful fingers, he curves them in, a master at finding the perfect spot, until I can feel the tightening in my core.

Sensing it too, he changes his position.  I hear the crinkle of the condom package and briefly wonder where he pulled that from. Under the bed? He moves quickly to climb over top of me and slams into me hard, forcing the air from my lungs.  With my feet up on the bed, I push back against him grinding with him. “Fuck me,” I whisper.

His sinfully delicious smile lights up his face. “Want it rougher?”


He moves my other hand up binding them both together now under his, holding me still, as if I’d fight him.  With his other hand, he claws at my fleshy hip, pulling out his thick, satisfying cock.  Each drive feels deeper than the one before, the thrusts moving me off the pillows till I’m on the floor.  I can feel rug burns starting on my ass. And I love every goddamn minute.  I wrap my legs around his slim waist, holding him to me, rocking my hips up to meet each pounding exertion.

I’m so turned on by this man and the love he gives me.  His strength and power.  I love his weight on me, making me for once feel small and dainty.  With his cocky damn eyebrow he smirks at me with each stroke.  “Kiss me, “ I breathe out, needing him to tear into me and finish it.  I can’t bear the tease any more.  “Take me; slam it.”

His mouth hungrily meets my primed lips, brushing his nose against mine.  I love how tactile he is, gentle even when he’s rough.  Eventually we should say those three damn words.  He pushes my wrists into the floor and I know to keep them there.  He supports himself over me with one beautiful bicep in my line of sight as his other hand lifts under my ass, melding us even closer together. Each spot where our bodies connect sends messages of pleasure through the rest of my body.

Screaming out as the orgasm rips through me, I feel our energies join as one.  My mind is filled with nonsense that is incomprehensible, and I love he does that to me.  Totally incoherent thoughts. Wanting to shout out ‘love, love, love.’

After several more forceful invasions with his greedy cock, Chris’s body tenses as he comes, his fingers possessively digging into my beautiful fat ass. Undeniably his favorite feature!  With a sigh, he collapses on top of me, nuzzling into my neck.  Our breaths match one another and slowly we still, returning to a calm.  I wrap my arms around him, feeling his weight on me, laughing when he flips us over and he hits his head on the dresser.  “Fuckin’ meatball,” he mutters irritably.

cuddles 5

His hands roam over my back and brush over my ass. The carpet burns sting and I hiss at his touch. “Shit, babe, I’m sorry, I-”

“I’m not. Stop. You fuck me so well; don’t ever apologize,” I clearly state, making sure he both hears and understands

“Christopher, I love the way you make me feel; I like the pain mixed with the pleasure. It’s hot as fuck, so don’t you dare apologize.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles, arranging one of the pillows under his head as I snuggle up to his side.  He raises his arm so we both can see his watch. “Time for a nap before we clean up again to go to Mom’s?”

I run my fingers over his soft chest hairs, tweaking his nipple, watching him tickle his lower lip with his mustache. “Or we could go buy paint?”

“What? You were serious?” He shifts and raises up my chin so he can see my face better. “It’s that bad? You really don’t like it?”

Oh, shit. I can see the hurt on his face.  After getting pounded to the floor, literally, my body aches. Sitting up to stretch I pull a pillow to me, stuffing it under my ass to provide cushion as I sit.  I wince as my broken skin makes contact with the textured fabric.

“You’re moving slow to think about what to say,” Chris infers as he also sits up and reaches over to open a bottom drawer, pulling out a small bottle of aloe.  He motions for me to lay across his lap and prepares to apply the soothing ointment to my small injuries.

Gasping as the cool creme makes contact with the heated skin, I whisper. “Oh God, that feels heavenly.  Mmm,mmm… thank you, baby.” I lay for a moment, enjoying his tender care.  “Christopher, I know what to say, I just don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

His hands knead the flesh and caress down my thighs as well, getting lost in his admiration of my full figure.  God bless this boy.  

“I’m a grown man; I can take it.”  His voice indicates he is distracted by the movement of his hands over my ass, and that he really doesn’t care about the house, but about my opinion of the house.

Leaning over he kisses the colorful tat of a four leaf clover on my left ass cheek, gently blowing across my skin, cooling the damaged areas. A chill runs up my spine at the gentle and loving aftercare he gives. So good to me always, in all ways.

Sighing, I start to list the things my decorator’s eye wants to fix.  “It’s not horrible: I would actually design this for someone else… But not for you.” I rub my fingers through the hairs on his thigh under me, wanting contact with him while I deliver the hard truth.  “It’s cold, it’s unwelcoming, it’s bland.  There’s no color.  That’s not who you are.  I saw the gym as we came up here.  It has more personality than the downstairs!  This room? This room is amazing!  Baby, this room is you.  The rest of the house should look like this.. Little pieces of you, your family and your career scattered everywhere.  Fun and playful, like you.”  I twist to look at him and see my words hit home.

He raises his eyebrow, and slowly nods his head.  “And how much is this going to cost me?” He laughs.  “Shit!  Are more goddamn decorator pillows involved?”

“No more pillows. I swear.  I can re-use these.”  I rise to my feet, and reach out to pull him up next to me. I love the feel of his rock solid chest against my soft full tits.  “I just hate that the house doesn’t reflect your warmth, charm and personality.  If you mean it, I can actually rework a lot of this with some paint, fabric… oh, and we’ll need-”

“Shhh.”  Laughing, he reaches his hands to cup my face, his eyes searching mine. Before kissing me, he caresses his beard against the side of my face and I lick my lips in anticipation of his plump lips meeting mine.

“Maybe Boston seems cold because it didn’t have my own personal Sunshine in it until now.” His smile lights up his face and my heart just melts as he leans in to kiss the tip of my nose. His hot breath brushes across my skin as he whispers, “What colors do you suggest, babe?”

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

Last Night

Last Night August 19 2016

Last Night

An Emery & Chris story

*a Chris Evans fan fic*

By avenger-nerd-mom

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.

Click here for the next Emery&Chris story, Snapshots: Scenes from a Wedding

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

Play It Through

play it through aug 20 2016

Play it Through

an Emery & Chris story

* a Chris Evans fan fiction*

by avenger-nerd-mom

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:

engagement photo text

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.

engagement photo

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

One Last Time

one last time Aug 13 2016.jpg

One Last Time

By avenger-nerd-mom

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

Brownie Batter

brownie batter cover aug 8 2016

Brownie Batter

Part 2 of Summer Vacation

A Mrs. Evans Story

*a Chris Evans fan fic*

By avenger-nerd-mom

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

Part 1- Summer Vacation

Summer 2034

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.

“Door locked?”

“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.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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