Late Night

Late Night april 25

Late Night

an Emery&Chris fan fic

By avenger-nerd-mom

Emery sits in with Chris during his promotional appearance on the Seth Meyers’ show

Warnings: None, fluff, language

Word Count: 1834

April 2018

“Chris, really? You should know this!’

He chuckles, even his laugh sounding like Boston, and she giggles, her feet bouncing nervously, watching him squirm in his seat.  He tosses his hand up in the air. “No. I try to forget some other guy before me had his tongue in your mouth.” He looks, around distressed, as she dissolves into more laughter. “Can I say that on national television? Did that sound dirty?’  He looks to the audience sheepishly.

“It wasn’t just one,” she mumbles under her breath. Louder, she turns to their host, “Seth, don’t give him my answer yet. Ask me. There’s a prize involved, right?”

“What? A prize? What kind of late night show do you think this is?!” He looks around his desk. “Um, you can have this cool mug?”

“Deal.” Emery nods emphatically. “Is it the same question? ‘Cause I know his first kiss was Maggie Sullivan.” She hits him in the arm. “Show your card.”

He rubs his arm. “Ow, you hit hard. Seth, tell her ‘no hitting.’” He turns his card over and taps it against his leg. “Poor Maggie Sullivan, if she’s watching this…”

Seth shakes his finger at the little red head. “Well done, and it doesn’t bother you to know that?”

She tilts her head, looking to Seth. “No,I won.  I’m the one married to Captain Frickin America. I mean look at him.  He’s so handsome- ‘ She swirls her hands around in front of Chris’s face. “Caterpillar and all…”

He leans back against the seat, “I can’t wait to shave it,” he laughs, rubbing his hand over the questionable facial hair.  “Shit! ” He covers his mouth, with a surprised expression, embarrassed he cursed on television. “Sorry- it was David, wasn’t it?  He was your first kiss?” She happily flips over her card, showing the name of her high school sweetheart. “You danced with him at our wedding! I knew I hated that guy!”

Emery chuckles and pats his leg. “It’s okay, honey. You know we’re just old family friends. You have nothing to worry about.”

Seth makes a funny face to the crowd and the audience laughs. “Yea…” he stretches the word out. “You are Captain Frickin’ America. I think you’re pretty safe, dude.”  

late night 6

Chris mumbles, “I hope, man, I hope.”

Seth laughs, “Ok, next question- Chris, what’s Emery’s favorite movie that’s not Marvel?”

The famous actor looks to his wife, raising an eyebrow. “Wait? Is this a trick question? Seth, are we talking all time favorite, science fiction or holiday?

Emery leans over and covers the microphone on the desk and consults privately with the host. After a brief moment, he turns to Chris and announces. “All time favorite…”

Screwing up his face in thought, his mustache wiggles on his lip.

late night 5

“Oh god, I know it’s an 80s movie,  with that redhead. Crap, what is it? Sixteen Candles!”

Emery’s cheeks turn a shade of red under the bright lights. She holds up the card, ‘Pretty in Pink.’  “That redhead? You worked with Molly once!” She reminds him. “Remember,  we cancelled brunch just the other day because it was on TV and I didn’t wanna leave till the end?”

Leaning in close to her, Chris chuckles. “I thought we stayed home because it was raining, and that’s why we ordered in Chinese?”

Emery hides her laughter behind her card, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Ok, Emery, this one is for you.  What is Chris’s favorite Disney movie?”

Her smile freezes on her face. Shit. It could be anything. The wheels begin to turn, and he jumps in. “This could be any number of- this was a tough,” he waves his hand, “it was a tough call.”

Emery tugs on the end of her pony tail and drops it to her chest when she settles on an answer. “Well, his favorite old-school Disney movie would have to be Robin Hood-”

“Show it to us, you don’t have to go on. That was amazing.” Turning to the audience, Seth teases, “Why do I feel like I’m causing marital discourse between them?” Turning to the couple, he leans in.  “Please don’t send me any therapy bills resulting from this…” He looks at the next question on his card. “What’s Emery’s favorite sweet indulgence?

His face lights up. “Besides me? Oh I got this. Milky Way, I bring them home from the corner shop all the time.”

“Man, do you even know me? You always end up eating those! My favorite candy bar is Heath.” She flips the card over and bops him on the head.

Intervening, Seth holds out his hand. “Chris, have you met this lovely woman sitting by your side? Her name is Emery. She likes 80s teen movies and toffee covered in chocolate.”

Chris shifts in his seat and reaches out for her hand. Shaking it, he introduces himself and says, “Hi. I’m Chris. I’m a dork. I’m in movies, but not porn, as the ‘stache might imply, and I like Starburst jelly beans, and long walks on the beach.”

emery NYC 3

She throws her head back in laughter. “You hate the beach.”

He turns to the audience, nodding. “She’s right. I do.” Turning to the host, he says, “This game is awful. I feel like a chimp could do better at this than I am!”

Seth looks at his watch, “Well, man, it’s only an hour show, so we don’t have time for a counseling session, but I think you need to talk to your wife more, and listen.”  He taps the cards on the table. “We’ve got time for one last question. Chris,” he nods to the actor. “What’s the one thing you do that annoys her the most?”

Chris rocks forward, laughing and shaking his head. Straightening out his pants leg, he says, “Seth, you obviously don’t know me very well. One thing? Listen here. This woman is perfect. She cooks, cleans, does craft projects, exercises, volunteers with kids and has a full time job. And she puts up with me, and deals with the fans, and press. There’s so many things about me that annoy her,” he chuckles. He quits fidgeting with the cards in his lap and reaches for her hand. Looking in her eyes, he says, “I’m just so thankful every day she puts up with me, and I have no frickin’ idea what is my most annoying habit to her.”

She squeezes his hand, silently encouraging him to remember their conversation just before leaving the apartment that morning. She purses her lips, willing him to remember.

“Oh, man!” He exclaims. “I know! She really hates it when I take things out of the dryer and just kinda dump them on the floor instead of folding them, or hanging them up.”

The look on his face is pure pride, when she turns her card over and throws her arm around his neck, kissing his check. “I hate that!” she whispers.

Seth applauds and says over the crowd’s laughter, “He does that? You do deserve some kind of prize for being married to him! If I did that, my wife would kick my-”

“Oh, she does, she does… then she yells at me to go clean it up.”

She nods. “He’s getting better. It’s a twelve step program,” she giggles. “A slow process.”

“Well, Chris, you have a lovely bride, and a wonderful movie coming out later this week, and congratulations on your Broadway debut.” Turning to the cameras, Seth turns it out to a commercial break.

In a rush, crew members come over to unhook their mikes and Seth stands to give Emery a kiss on the cheek. “Again, Seth, congratulations on the birth of your new baby! Thank you for showing me pictures!”

“Thank you for the lovely gift, you didn’t have to do that,” Seth says, reaching out to shake Chris’s hand. “Really, man, the play is great.” He nods. “Best of luck.”

A crew member begins to lead her away, and she waves to the audience as Chris and Seth chat for a few minutes. She watches from the sidelines as the configuration on the stage changes slightly, and one of the Marvel assistants comes to lead her away.

Back stage are a few fans, waiting to meet Chris, and she stops to talk to them. She kneels down next to a young girl dressed as Suri. “Miss Emery!” The young girl sighs. “You’re so beautiful. You came and taught at my school last week, and I got an A on my test.” She holds up the paper to show her achievement, and Emery gives her a high five.

“That’s amazing! Wow, you did great and used that fraction trick, didn’t you?” Emery smiles. When Chris comes up behind her, he places his hand on the small of her back. She turns to him and shows him the math paper. “Chris, this is my friend, Lashaya,” she says, reading from the test, “and she was in my class and got an A.”

He squats down next to the girl, and an assistant places a small bag at his feet. “Lashaya, that’s pretty amazing. I’m really proud of you.” He smiles up to Emery and winks. “She’s a great teacher, but what’s even better is, you remembered what she taught you and now you can help your friends, cause that’s important right?”

She nods and smiles at the photos her mother is taking. He reaches in the bag, and hands the girl a signed Funko Pop and poses for a selfie before moving on to talk to other people waiting for him. Emery stands back and watches, not a part of the limelight, when the girl’s mother asks for a photo of her as well. “Please, Miss Emery? My daughter has never done good in school before, but you really helped her. She works so hard now, and I thank you for that.”

Emery chokes on her tears, and catches Chris watching her. He winks as she bends down to take a photo with the child. “You tag me in that, alright? I wanna make sure I see it! You hang that test on the fridge and earn more like it, okay?”

“Okay,” Lashaya says before her mother leads her away.

Another Marvel handler comes to her, and suggests they go on down to the car. In the quiet hallway behind the stage, the young man says, “That was really cool. I’ve never thought about it, but you’re kind of a superhero, too, Mrs. Evans. Teaching kids all day, especially math, must be hard. That was pretty amazing!”

Chris’s voice echoes down the hall, rushing to join them. “Damn right, my wife’s a superhero! And I’m taking her to dinner!  Where you wanna go, baby? Seth’s right. It’s been a while since we’ve had time to just sit and talk.”

“Just you, me and the mustache? Ok,” she laughs, looping her arm through his as they walk out to the car.

Read more about Emery and Chris in their novella, Georgia on My Mind, and their story collections

Copyright © 2018  avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

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Auntie Em

auntie em april 15 2018

Auntie Em

*an Emery & Chris drabble*

By avenger-nerd-mom

Emery pitches in to help her sister-in-law, Carly, when the kids are sick and Carly has plans. Her tutoring with his nephew goes slightly awry.

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 2141

To find out more about Emery and her life with Chris, begin with their novella, Georgia on My Mind, and follow up with their stories!

His voice is quiet, and she strains to hear him. “When are you coming home, baby? I miss you.”

Emery smiles. “I’ve only been gone two days; I’ll be home Monday.”

“I know, but it feels like it’s been fooor-eveeer.” He whines and stretches the word out.

She wraps her arm around the sleeping little one in her lap. “Good grief, listen to you, moaning like I’ve been gone for months.” She smiles at the other two boys, stretched out on the floor, coloring and playing with race cars.

Chris drops his voice and it vibrates through the phone. “I need you here to make me moan.”

“Oh stop,” she giggles. “Stella’s asleep in my lap.”

“Is she feeling any better?” Her heart flutters at the tender sound of his voice, so full of concern for his niece.

She nods, even though he can’t see her. She gently strokes the little girl’s hair back, checking for signs of a fever. “I think the fever broke a few hours ago. She was running around here with the boys just a bit a go, before she had another coughing fit. They felt so bad for her, they let her watch Frozen without whining.”

“It’s nice to have family close, when you have an emergency,” he hints. “Have you heard from Carly?”

“She’s been checking in every few hours. She can’t be enjoying their romantic get away if she’s worried about a sick kid.” Emery shifts on the love seat, her arm starting to fall asleep under the weight of the sleeping child. “I’ve got it under control. We went to Ethan’s piano lesson this morning, and Miles and I have been studying for his math test. We’ve had a good visit.”

“You sound tired,” he sighs. “Three will do that, but-”

“Which is why, Evans, we’re only having two-”

“I’m not stopping till we have a little girl, with fiery red hair like her mother,” he states.

“You really want two of us in the house?” She smiles. She sighs happily. More of their discussions have turned to family lately, with the Marvel end in sight. She’ll be sad when it’s time to see him hang up the shield, but with his success on Broadway, she looks forward to different opportunities.

“No, I want three of you. Two little girls, just like their mama, and a little boy?” He adds with a question.

At that moment, Miles lifts his head and turns to her and smiles. His boyish grin is so much like his uncle’s, she can’t help but giggle. “Okay, maybe you can twist my arm for three, but no more than that,” she acquiesces.

“It’s not about twisting your arm, kitten, you like it when I twist your-”

“Chris! Shh!” She blushes, quietting him as Miles crawls into her lap.

He holds out his little hand. “Auntie Em, can I talk to Uncle Chris?”

She hands him the phone, holding him close to her side and listening to him chatter with his uncle. Maybe three isn’t a bad number…

***

Standing at the sink, the two women pass the plates off to one another as they wash and dry, leaving things on the counter for the men to put away later.

“Really, Em, you didn’t have to have dinner waiting for us,” Carly repeats, running the cloth around the glass rim to dry it.

Emery feels around in the soapy water. Finding the sink empty, she looks to the counter behind her. “It was no trouble. I miss getting to cook for people. We’ve mostly been eating take out,” she explains. “I think that’s it. Anything else to wash?”

Carly looks around as well, and shakes her head. “Except for the plate with the cheesecake Scott took to the living room, and he can wash that himself.”

Emery nods and releases the plug from the sink, shaking the soap suds from her hands before rinsing them clean. She grabs a dry towel and wipes her hands before beginning to put the plates away in the cabinet.

Carly finishes with the last coffee cup and throws her towel on the counter. “Stop. The boys said they’d do it; leave it.”  She takes a step or two away and clicks the coffee pot on. “Another cup?”

Nodding, Emery continues to put away the plates, ignoring Carly’s glare. “I’m the oldest sister too. That look has no effect on me,” she announces.

With the Evans grin, Carly chuckles and reaches into the fridge for the creamer, setting out her coffee items on the counter. “Thanks again for coming down to watch the kids. I hope it didn’t change your plans.”

Emery waves it off. “Nothing more important than family. With Mom and Shanna both busy, I’m glad I could help out.”

“Not a lot of family close by if you’re in LA,” Carly suggests, taking the pot from it’s stand and pouring two cups.

“Gee, you’re not subtle or anything,” Emery giggles, reaching for her cup and adding a splash of the vanilla creamer.  She grabs two sugar packets and walks to the table. Knowing how the family grapevine works, she decides not to mention Tara is on the search for the perfect family home for them nearby.  After several long discussions, she’d made it clear she wanted them to have their own home in Boston, not one he’d previously shared with girlfriends. Chris had been open to her idea of finding something a little rough around the edges, so they could add their own touches to the home, and truly make it theirs.

Carrying over the plate of cookies, Carly sits in the chair across from her sister-in-law. “We’d love to have you both close. I know you like staying in Savannah, but home for him is here.”

“Carly,” Emery says sternly, “Home for us is wherever the other one is… It’s not a city or a dwelling. It’s here.” She rests her left hand over her heart, the kitchen lighting making her wedding ring gleam. “I know you want us here, but my family feels the same, Carly. Chris and I have to make decisions right for us.”

Carly passes her spoon to Emery, to stir the sugar into her cup. “I know, I didn’t mean… I was just making conversation,” she sheepishly says. “It’s fun you’ve been so close the last few months. It was nice to see you guys at Easter, and for us to have a good excuse to go to New York.”

Emery tilts her head. “It has been nice, and I look forward to coming back in a few weeks to do the training for your school district.”

“What’s his plan after the play ends? It’s been really strange to watch the promo tour stuff, and he’s not a part of it.”

Emery rests back in her seat. “Yea, I hate that too. It doesn’t seem right.” She shrugs. “After the play? I don’t think we have a lot of plans. I’ve only got three workshops scheduled for the summer. I’d like to spend time at the lake house with my family some, get to know Parker’s fiancee a bit better…”

The women chat well into the night, keeping clear of touchy subjects such as children and moving. Whenever Carly tries to push a topic Emery wants to avoid, she tactfully finds a way to shut her down. Eventually she realizes the time, and dismisses herself to bed, with the excuse of an early morning flight.

Carly wanders into the living room as Emery takes the stairs to the second level of the home. She drags her hands slowly over the photos that line the hall. At the top of the steps, she turns and looks down, smiling at the pile of shoes and backpacks by the front door. Scott steps into her line of sight, and waves goodbye, blowing her a kiss before quietly leaving the house. She turns and walks down the hallway, stopping to check in on the boys, fast asleep in their beds.

under the dome GIF-downsized_large.gif

In Stella’s room, the little girl clutches a bear to her chest, her thumb in her mouth.  Emery walks in quietly, the light from the closet adding a glow to the room. She pulls the little girls thumb out, tucking the little hand under the girl’s chin instead, pulling the blankets up higher to tuck her in. The tiny cherub sighs peacefully and Emery bends to kiss the top of her head.

Reaching the guest room, she yawns and pulls back the blankets before sitting down to take off her shoes. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she sends a quick message. “I miss you. I’m ready to come home. See you tomorrow.”

The red-head waits a few moments to see if a response will come. With no answer, she rises from the bed, and enters the bath to get ready for a fitful night’s sleep.

***

Wednesday afternoon, she waits on the small couch, still giggling from the text from Carly. She listens to the applause and waits for Chris to come back stage. An image of ‘Bill,’ his character in the play enters her mind.  The crisp blue uniform… The silly moustache… She gets the giggles again and can’t wait to show him the picture. He was crabby before the show, but she knows this will put him in better spirits. That and the box of pizza from John’s, sitting on the coffee table.

“Hey, Emery,” Brian calls out as he walks past the room, not stopping to talk.

“I got pizza!” She yells back.

She smiles when his head pops back in the door. “You’re a saint, a goddess among mere mortals.” He looks down the hall, and nods his head before looking back to her. “You have to be for putting up with this guy.” Brian Tyree Henry claps his large hand on Chris’s shoulder. “You found a good one, man.”

Chris smiles, dropping the officer hat from his costume into the chair and running his hands through his hair. “I’m just lucky she puts up with me,” Chris agrees.

“And I bring pizza,” she smiles, opening the box to the two men.

zooey deschanel hunt GIF-downsized_large.gif

“And she brings pizza,” Chris chuckles, leaning over the food to kiss his beautiful wife. He reaches down for a slice and takes a bite, chewing slowly. He sighs. “Pure heaven. If I could just have a beer, it would be damn near perfect.” He collapses on the couch next to her.

“No beer!” Someone calls out as they walk down the hall.

“Damn that promise I made,” he grumbles, taking another bite.

Bryan reaches for a slice and tilts it to Emery. “Thanks, Em, babe. But I really can’t stay. I’m meeting some friends for an actual dinner before we gotta be back for the night show.”

She nods, scratching her hands over Chris’s back absently as he scarfs down a second slice.  “Brunch Friday?”

He nods and mumbles his agreement behind his hand, chewing his food before excusing himself.

“Kitten, I gotta get changed. People are out on the sidewalk and-”

“Chris, I know. I know the routine by now. It’s good. I just knew you’d be hungry,” She shrugs. “Before you go, I want you to see the picture Carly sent me. It’s from Miles’ geometry test he took yesterday.”

Chris cocks his eyebrow, his expression curious as Emery opens her phone and turns the image to him.

“It’s his test paper? I don’t get it?”

“Chris! Look at what he drew!” Emery laughs, pushing the phone closer to him.

Chris begins to laugh. “What the hell?” His laughter is infectious and Emery loses it again. The more he looks at the test page, the more he laughs, to the point of wheezing and clapping his hand over his left pec.

carly text fake.PNG

“Oh, shit! That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. Text her back and tell her I have never been more proud of my nephew than I am right now! Please tell me he passed?” He laughs again and slaps his knee, rocking back to then wipe an actual tear from his eye.

She pushes on his back, shoving him off the couch. “Go, get changed. They’ll be here to take you out to sign any minute,” she giggles, glad she was able to cheer him up.

He rises, bending to kiss the top of her head. “You just made my day. That was better than the pizza, maybe even better than the sex this morning.”

“Watch it, Mister. Those are fighting words,” Emery laughs, slapping his ass as he walks away. She looks at her phone again and shakes her head in another fit of laughter.  She’ll have to make sure to include drawing lessons in her geometry tutorials next time, to ensure her younger students can draw a proper cylinder.

**Thanks to my IRL for sharing this actual test paper with me this week! As soon as I saw it, I knew it was an ‘Emery story!’

Images found on Pinterest

Text created using ifakemessage.com

Copyright © 2018  avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

Unsteady

unsteady.gif

Unsteady

* a Chris Evans fan fic*

By avenger-nerd-mom

Actor Chris Evans has some tough decisions to make and has to deal with consequences of his actions

Warnings: Language, Angst, Adult Situations

Inspired by a vision I had while driving and listening to “Unsteady” by the X Ambassadors

Word Count: 1055

Sitting on the back porch he watches the lights of the cars driving down into the valley, like little ants with lights strapped on their heads. He pushes away at the cigarette box, knowing he needs to stop, but now isn’t the time.  He bites at his lip.  “Fuck it.”

He taps the side of the box and one rolls out across the table and he grabs it between his fingers, lifting it to his pouty red lips. He lets it dip low as he pulls the lighter from his pocket.  Cupping his hand around the end, he bites the filter and lights it up, pulling a long sweet draw into his lungs, like mana from heaven.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, disappointed in himself again.  The song echoes on repeat from his phone, and as much as it cuts his soul, it’s the only thing grounding him right now.  The lighter flips between his fingers, a talent he acquired at an early age to show off to the older, cooler boys in the neighborhood when he was just a kid.  He watches the silver flash and shine in the night and is lulled by the sound of crickets and the dog’s lazy, sleeping breath at his feet.

His thoughts roam and he drops the lighter with a clang against the glass patio table.  He can’t control the itching in his fingers, the pain in his heart and he opens the locked file on his phone.  Her face springs to life on the screen.  He leans back in the chair and takes another deep inhale of the toxins poisoning his system.  Scrolling through each picture, her smile greets him; calls to him.  Makes him remember…

The sliding door opens and he doesn’t even look up.  “Hey.  Are you coming to bed?” she asks, her voice small and unsure, child-like.

He scoffs quietly, but does his best to hold in his venom.  “No; I told you to go to sleep.  I’ll be in when I feel like it.  I’m sleeping on the couch anyway.”

Not looking her way, he can feel her hover there for a moment longer, debating if it’s even worth a fight anymore.  She must decide it’s not because the door clicks closed without another word.

His finger pushes ahead forcefully and stops as if by magic on his favorite photo.  She’d been caught in the rain and her hair and make-up were a mess… The moment in time frozen inside his phone, in his memory.

He stares at it for what seems like hours.  The cigarette slowly burns away and his throat feels scratchy from the smoke.  Looking at the time; he realizes she might still be awake and he takes a chance.

Dialing her number, he waits.  It rings and rings.  Just as he’s just about to give up, she answers, her voice groggy.

“Chris; I told you not to call me anymore.”

Hearing the rustle of sheets, he pictures her in her bed, sleepy and hair tousled.  It pierces his mind at that moment that she may not be alone, and he clutches his chest from the pain.  His voice is true and honest.  “I couldn’t help myself,” he sighs weighed down with his emotions.

The dog stirs at his feet and stiffly gets up, resting his head on his master’s lap.  Chris reaches down and scratches between his ears.  “Don’t hang up,” he pleads.

She sighs and he hears the click of the light switch.  She’s invested in conversation for now.  “What do you want?” she asks, quiet but not cold or harsh.  Sympathetic.

I want you back.  I fucked up.  I threw away too many good things.  I don’t know how to fix it; how to make it better.

The song begins another play on the infinite loop he has set. “I just needed to talk; to hear you.”  A firefly lands on the table and he watches the blinking light, mesmerized by the beauty of nature.  Resting his head against the back of the cushioned patio chair, he closes his eyes again and she fills his thoughts.

“I can’t do this, Chris.  It hurts too much,” she admits.  “It’s not good for you and I’m trying to move forward…” her voice dwindles away, stretched thin with her own pain and suffering.

He listens to her quiet breathing.  “Tell me how to fix it,” he quietly begs, tears forming in his eyes and pooling against his thick lashes.  He solemnly decides to let them wash over him if they spill from their hold.  To let her hear his torment…

A faint rattling sound is heard through the phone and he again wonders if she’s alone.

“I don’t know if you can…” she replies.  “If half the things on the gossip pages are true…”

He sighs bitterly.  “You never used to believe the things you read.”  The dog bores with his affections and wanders out to the yard for a late night romp and Chris begins to fumble with the lighter again.

“I also believed you’d never hurt me.”

Her words cut and sear at his wounded heart.  “You never gave me time to explain; I never meant to hurt you and it wasn’t-”

“Stop.  I’m not doing this, Chris.  You don’t get to call me late at night, when you’re sad and lonely.  You don’t get to invade my head….”

Her tone changes, grows in strength.  “If you want it bad enough, you fix it.  You get your head out of your ass, you make the changes you know you need to make.  But you have to do that for YOU, not for me, or your other fans, or your family, but for YOU… maybe in a few months, you can call me again.  At a normal time of day, and we can talk.  Or you come out to visit and we go to dinner.  But I want no part of this now, not like this.  Don’t do this to yourself again…”  She pauses and he waits.  She sniffles and his heart surges.  “I love you Chris, but don’t do this to me.  I can’t.”

The line clicks dead.  She said ‘I love you.’  Hope.  Hope springs to life again and he begins to think of the changes ahead for the coming days…

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

 

Mrs. Evans’ Boys

Mrs. Evans boys cover jan 27 2016.jpg

Mrs. Evans’ Boys

A Mrs. Evans story

*A Chris Evans fan fiction*

By avenger-nerd-mom

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

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

Word count 950

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, she did; that was nice, we’ll-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#

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

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

 

Healing Hands

healing hands USE jan 15 2017.jpg

A Chris Evans fan fic

By avenger-nerd-mom

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

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

Word count: 4212

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#

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

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

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

Stepping into the living room-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, more,” she whines.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In Sickness and In Health

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

In Sickness and In Health

A Mrs. Evans story

*a Chris Evans fan fic*

By avenger-nerd-mom

A future Chris Evans takes care of his sick wife

Warnings: Language, Fluff

Word count: 1201

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No Decisions Today

no decisions today jan 1 2017.JPG

No Decisions Today

a Sunshine Story

a Chris Evans fan fic

By avenger-nerd-mom

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

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

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

Word Count: 3176

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Christopher.  Don’t.  You.  Dare.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Christmas Presents

Christmas Presents DEc 24 2016.jpg

Christmas Presents

An Emery & Chris story

*a Chris Evans fan fic*

by avenger-nerd-mom

Chris and Emery have a little discussion about where to keep her Christmas presents in their new Boston home

Warnings: FLUFF

Word Count 1655

January 2019

Leaning in the door frame, arms crossed, he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from saying what he’s thinking.  Any little thing seems to set her off recently, and he’s too tired for another go.  It’s his own damn fault anyway, because he told her to choose any color she wanted.  And the smile on her face is so damn cute, he already knows she’s going to get her way.  Like she always does, and this time, he can’t hold back the laugh at his own thought.

“But kitten, it’s like, Army-khaki brown?  That’s not a color for a nursery; I mean if it’s a little girl don’t we want pink and-”

Emery spins on her heels and the light catches her hair just right, like a halo of flames around her head.  She squints her eyes at him, responding.  “Christopher Robert Evans, don’t you dare finish that sexist remark.” Teacher voice, he thinks, and not the sexy one…  And it’s not khaki, it’s called taupe, and I like it.  It goes perfect with my Christmas presents, perfect for the baby’s room!”

He coughs to bide his time and give her a moment to settle down.  He moves to her and bracing his hands on her forearms, he tugs them away from her rounded hips and pregnant belly and drops them to her sides for a less threatening pose.   “Don’t get defensive with me; I know what that color it’s called. I dated an interior designer, you know…” he winks at her playfully.

Sticking her tongue out at him, she chides him, poking him squarely in his solid chest.  “You don’t have to remind me; I know. You bring it up every time we redecorate, you ass,” she chuckles.  “Keep memories of your ex-girlfriends out of our baby’s bedroom, alright. Or that new accountant we need?  I know just the guy; he also just moved up here from-”

STOP.  Stop.  I can dish it out, but I can’t take it.  No more talk of exes, ever.  I promise.” He puts his hands up in defeat and holds his out for a pinkie swear.  He laughs when she links her tiny finger with his, tugging him to her lips for a quick, chaste kiss.  “But really, babe, this isn’t what I had in mind when I framed these and gave them to you.”

christmas presents.JPG

He stares up at the ‘vintage’ Captain America posters on the wall, in the style of old movie playbills.  When packing his old place in LA, he found lots of memorabilia he knew she would love and cherish, and he had framed these, thinking she would put them in the shared office in their new Boston home.  He never imagined she would plan the design of the baby’s nursery around them, picking out colors from the photos as accents.

“I know, but they’re just so beautiful.  I mean I guess we can move them to the office, or down in the den they’d look nice too.  But I just like the style,” she shrugs her shoulders.  “We don’t have to make a decision today, but-”

Chris sweeps his arm around the room, the cherry wood furniture, shiny and new.  His robust laugh echoes in the room.  “Babe, your ‘nesting’ kicked in.  Everything we picked out and ordered is already delivered and in place.  You’d really agree to changing the room?”  He smiles at the faint blush on her cheeks, drawing attention to her cute freckles.  Damn, she’s gonna get her way- but then the faint smell of fresh paint assaults his nose.  His tone changes. “Wait- who painted?  You aren’t supposed to be painting.”

She gets sheepish and moves to the dresser, folding some of the baby clothes already given to them.  She smiles at the collection of little clothing, many of onsies marked with shields and sayings like ‘My Daddy is a superhero!’

“Emery?  Dammit, please tell me you didn’t paint.  We talked about not doing stupid things while I’m away working.”  Now he’s the one standing in the center of the room, hands on his hips.  He feels the beginning of a headache.  They’d already had one little scare early on in the pregnancy and he was not willing to risk anything.  His tone drops, full of concern. “Babe, you know I can’t lose you; you have to be safe.”

Turning to him, she quietly calms him.  “Relax, babe.  I didn’t do anything.”  Her smile lights up the room when he moves closer and begins folding the the tiny clothes also.  They look so tiny in his strong, firm hands.  “Uncle Scott came and helped, and I haven’t stayed in the house.  I’ve slept at your mom’s.  I don’t wanna spend a night here until we can be in the house together.  He didn’t like the color either; he told me you’d hate it.  But he did have a suggestion if you absolutely hated it.”

“Yea, he’s dated  interior decorators too,” he pauses at her raucous laughter to his joke.  His eyes sweep over the shelves of Captain America bears he’s collected from fans over the years, and army toys from the forties, painted with shields.  Throwing his head back to look up at the ceiling briefly, he has to admit although it wasn’t where he pictured sitting and rocking their child to sleep, it was a beautifully done room.  “What? What’s his idea?”

Shrugging her shoulders, “It’s partly your fault, you know.  Every time I’ve tried to bring up the design, you say ‘after this’ or ‘after that.’”  She tugs his arm and pulls him over to sit on the plush couch under the window.  “I made it this far.  We’re good, honey.”  Placing their hands over her belly she smiles at Chris with his teary eyes.  “We’re gonna be okay.  I just know it.  You gotta start bonding.  You’re gonna be a dad, and meet THIS little one, even if I end up sitting on my ass for weeks…”  Chris wipes away a tear, fortified by his wife’s positivity. “I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, and I still don’t wanna know, but I know one thing.  Little One is a fighter.  Just like both of us; strong and hard as nails.  And with a name like Grant Lang Evans?”

Her hopeful question hangs in the air…

“No.  No.  I give in to all your little whims.  Even getting In and Out burgers and shakes at three am when I’ve got jet lag coming back from Singapore.  But no,” laughing and shaking his head, “If it’s a boy, that is not his name.  Do you have any idea how ‘fangirl’ crazy that sounds?”

She giggles, leaning her head against his strong bicep, tracing her fingers over his newest tat under the old ‘Loyalty’ one.  “I do like this tat,” she tells him.  “I wasn’t sure at first…but it’s growing on me…  Jelly bean, it’s tradition in my family for the oldest daughter  to use the middle names of both her grandfathers for the firstborn son.  I can’t help those names also happen to be tied to two of my favorite characters.” She giggles and rolls her eyes.  “But honey, Relax.  It’s not gonna be a boy.  I just feel it.”

Kissing the top of her head, he contentedly sighs.  “Well, then, I guess we better narrow down a girl’s name then, ‘cause you’re always right.”

“Yup!” she giggles, “And life would be so much easier if you would always remember that!”

Her sweet lilt is music to his years and he laughs, jostling her by his side.  “I’ll try to remember that, if you promise me one thing, kitten.”

Stifling a yawn, she giggles, “I don’t promise you anything in advance.  That gets me in trouble every time…”  She pauses at the memory of such a moment, which resulted in their pregnancy.  “What?  What are you trying to sneak?”  Her fingers brush down his arm taking his large hand in hers, brushing her thumb against the padded muscle in his palm.

“Promise me you’ll never lose that sweet Southern accent, no matter how long we live here in ‘yankee territory.’  And stop calling it that, too,” he chuckles.  Tickled by her touch, he gently extracts her hand from hers, moving to tuck his arm around her and pulling the blanket from the back of the couch to wrap her up.  “Nap time?”

“Uh, uh. Once a Southern belle, always a Southern belle…” She yawns, unable to avoid it this time.  “Will you stay here with me?”

“Of course, baby.  Always by your side… Till the end of the line,” he adds, needing a nap himself.

Moments pass in a companionable silence, before he whispers, “Emery? Are you still awake?”

“Hmm?” she hums, the sound of happiness evident in even the simplest noise.

“I still don’t know about the color and posters, but what was Scott’s idea?” His warm breath blows against the wispy curls on her forehead.

She giggles.  “With the brown, he thought giraffes or monkeys?  He doesn’t want to have to paint again.  And he was really glad the furniture was already built.  He had visions of sitting for hours and trying to put it together.  He’s so excited for another little one to love and he-.”

“Yea, we’re not naming the baby Scott either.  He can keep dreaming.”  Chris sighs, resting his head against hers.  “I’m sorry I haven’t been here.  Just three more weeks, babe, and this job’s a wrap…  But it’s good Scott is around when I’m not and it’s-”

“Honey, honey.  Shhh.  I’m really tired.  Can you just ‘Shhh?”

“Whatever you say, boss,” he whispers against her head.  “Tell Scott he won’t have to paint. The bears? The shields?  They look great.”  But he knows before he even finishes his last words that she is sound asleep against his side, her pregnancy zapping her more than they had anticipated.

To get to know Emery and Chris better, check out their novella, Georgia on My Mind, that introduces them as a couple, and their collection of short stories.

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

Christmas Adventures: Naughty

Click here for the Opening of the story

Two hours later, she picks her little black bag off the side table, the cat jumping up at the sound of jingling keys.  Fuck this.  I’m going out.  Checking her phone again, she grabs her coat and scarf, and heads down to the lobby to wait for her Uber ride, ready to follow the directions Chani shared with the girls at work earlier in the week.

#

Greeted at the door of the home lavishly decorated for the holidays, Janelle has no idea where exactly she is, but passes over her coat and takes the ticket claim number she is handed.  Wandering through the holiday revelry, she calls out hello to friends from work, although confused by who all the other people might be.  The house is packed. She makes small talk with friends as she moves through the house, looking for Chani.  Walking into the kitchen, she smiles at the sight of Chani and Chris dancing around the room, manning the blender and mixing drinks.  Stepping up behind the handsome actor, she places her hand on his hip, reaching around him for his glass of Scotch, knocking it back swiftly.  He grabs her wrist, face unseen, turning and pausing when he sees who it is.

“Didn’t expect to see you here!” He shouts over the music, smiling at Chani’s bouncing excitement with the arrival of her friend.  Calling out to the man on the other side of the counter, he yells, “Scott, man!  Turn it down; we’re talking here.”

Scott, whoever he is, looks her up and down, and she puts a hand on her hip defiantly.  She doesn’t need some pretty boy checking her out.  She knows she looks good dressed in all black, jeans and v-neck sweater.  “Nice boots,” he compliments, giving a thumbs up appraisal before reaching over to quiet the music.

Turning her head to Chani, she smiles questioningly, ignoring the heat of Chris’s stare, his eyes obviously curving over her sculpted ass in the designer jeans she had to have last pay day.

“Don’t mind him.  He’s gay- and Chris’s brother.  He likes to critique our clothes. You look fuckin’ hot, baby girl,” she mocks her worship, raising and lowering her arms.  She nods at Chris as he takes the empty glass from Janelle and refills it, handing it back to her.  “What about the boyfriend?” she asks.

Swirling the amber liquid around in her glass, she watches as Chris steps aside for Scott to take over blender duties and moving closer to her. The Santa hat cocked on the side of his head makes her giggle and shake her head.  She takes another long draw from the small tumbler.  Pursing her lips and biting the inside of her cheek, she sighs, “Well, seems he forgot a few weeks back he had a girlfriend.”  Dropping her voice, she looks away from Chani, not wanting to see her look of sympathy.  “I ah… I just wanted to get through the holidays before I started telling people.”

She finishes the rest of the drink, resting the glass on the counter.  “Food, I need food.  All I’ve eaten today were cookies at the hospital.”

“Oh, my god, baby, let us get you something.  That asshole cheated on you?” Chani questions.  “Where is he? I wanna kick his damn head in.”  She guides Janelle into another room, two large tables covered with food.  “Plate?” she demands of Chris, working like a team, friends who’ve known each other well for a long time.  Accepting the plate, she begins to fill it full of real food for her friend.  “I’m sorry you didn’t tell me; I didn’t know.  I wouldn’t have teased you.”

“Honey, it’s okay.  You had no idea.  I didn’t want to bring anyone down.  He was an ass, you were right… I didn’t need to hear ‘I told you so.’” Pointing at the cheeseball and crackers, she motions for Chani to add more to the plate.  Looking around the array of food, the room decorated for the holidays, she pulls herself back into the moment.  “Where the fuck are we anyway?” she laughs.

“Belongs to a millionaire, playboy, philanthropist…” Chris shares modestly, shrugging his shoulders.  “I’m not just a dick that plays Santa for sick kids.”

Rubbing her forehead in embarrassment, “I’m a bitch.  I shouldn’t have said those things today.  What you do for those kids at the hospital, for us nurses?  It’s really amazing.  I’m sorry; it was out of line.”

“No harm done.  I like feisty women,” he chuckles, smacking her on the ass, preparing to walk away.  “And I am kind of a dick.  See ya around, Disney.”

Mouth agape, Janelle watches with confusion as he walks away, his jeans hung low on his hips, the fabric tight on his ass as he moves.  “Chani, what the hell just happened?” she asks, welcoming the plate of food into her outstretched hands and picking up a chilled water bottle.

Chani leads her dark haired friend to a quiet alcove down the hallway.  Resting in the window seat, Chani kicks off her shoes, tucking her feet under when she sits.  “He’s not a bad guy, Janelle.  You just announced your so-called ‘boyfriend’ cheated on you.  He’s giving you space; but he was disappointed after meeting you at the hospital that you didn’t plan to come-” she bursts into laughter and Janelle giggles with her, trying not to choke on her food.  Rocking with laughter, Chani can’t catch her breath, and Janelle just shakes her head.  Waving her hands at her face, Chani calms herself.  “Oh, girl!  That was too funny.  Bad choice of words; I should say he was disappointed you didn’t plan to attend the party… But ya know, he’d also be disappointed if you didn’t come…”

“Chani!  Shush!” Janelle admonishes.  “People will hear you,” she giggles.  “Oh my god though, I so need to get laid.  That’s my Christmas wish.”

The girls high-five and collapse into another fit of giggles.  Their easy camaraderie attracts other friends to them and before long the little quiet alcove has turned into its’ own private party.  One of the girls turns up the playlist on her phone and beers are passed among the friends.  Janelle passes on the drinks, losing herself in the music, dancing from song to song.

Arms raised, snapping to the beat, she dances among her friends, remembering the fun she used to have with them on Friday nights.  Like the Grinch, she feels her heart grow surrounded by their love and support, but it’s the firm hand on her hip that adds a warmth to her she hasn’t truly felt in ages.  Without even looking she knows it’s Chris.  She moves into him with the beat of the music and his strong arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close to him.

Her back melts against his solid chest and she sways a bit more to the music, brushing her ass against his groin, bumping against him with each rhythm change.  His hands roam across her stomach, the soft sweater caressing her skin and awakening inner desires she’s tamped down in an effort to get through the holidays alone.  His breath is hot against her neck as he nuzzles his nose in her hair.  His hands dig into her flesh, pulling up on her sweater, trying to find her skin.  The crowd swells around them and his bold advances are unseen to observers.  His deft fingers skim the soft plane of her belly, tugging at the snap of her jeans, popping it open and grazing his fingertips along the band of her jeans.  Her skin is on fire with his touch and her heart races. Sighing contentedly, she lowers her arm around the back of his neck and grasps the wisps of hair on the nape of his neck.

As the song changes, she spins in his arms, turning to face him and reconnecting their bodies as soon as possible.  “Nice package you got there, Santa,” she teases, looking up into his bright blue eyes, sparkling in the glow of the Christmas lights in the window.

He chuckles, sliding his hands down to cup under her ass cheeks, rising her up on her tiptoes to fit better against his stiffening cock.  “Christmas kink?  Nice.  I can do that…” he purrs.  “What do you want for Christmas, baby girl?”

On her tiptoes, she whispers in his ear, puffs of warm air against his neck, delighting in the slight shiver she feels run through his body at her deliciously sinful wish.  Balancing herself with her hands on his rock hard chest, she turns her head slightly to the left, her lips landing against the soft spot below his ear.  Her mouth slightly open, she quickly flicks her tongue against his warm skin as his grasp tugs upwards on her ass again, his cock harder than before.

Dropping to her flat feet she pulls back and winks at him, surprised to see a small blush of pink to his cheeks.  He blinks quickly, his dark lashes against his pale skin, looking around to see if anyone is watching them.  “Chani was right.  We’ll get along famously,” he laughs, taking her hand in his and leading her through the crowd.

#

The upstairs of the house is quiet, thanks to friends of his sitting at the top of the steps, keeping people away.  Janelle can’t help but notice one of the guys giving Chris a ‘thumbs up’ as they walk by.  Silently she hopes to herself this isn’t a normal situation, but he’s so Hollywood, how would she know.  She’s a little shocked by her own brazen behavior, but when would she ever get a chance like this again.  Her hand is comfortable in his and his thumb strokes gently over the back of her hand.  Occasionally he looks at her sideways and offers her a smile, putting her at ease. She catches glimpses of his personality as they walk down the hallway, gym shoes on the floor, a ballcap and glasses on a side table, photos of tourist destinations and family line the walls.

Pausing at a doorway, Chris opens the door and swings his arm to invite her in.  “You go first, Disney.”

She giggles at the nickname, brushing past him purposefully as she steps inside.  A Christmas tree takes up a large corner of the room, lighting the dark space and she stops just inside the doorway, not really sure what to do next.  What the fuck am I thinking? She asks herself, her mind swirling.

His hands come to her hip and he moves her to the side, closing the door before stepping in front of her, sliding his hands around to still rest on her hips.

Taking a deep breath, she moves three steps back against the door and he steps with her, drawn like a magnet to her dark eyes gleaming in the Christmas light. Reaching behind her, she turns the lock, a wicked smile forming at the tiny click, keeping the rest of the world out. The pretty nurse leans forward into his space, liking his cocky smile and licking her lips at the last second before kissing him, momentarily drawing his eyes to their glistening wet.

His eyes dart back up to hers  Not wanting to play her game, he tugs her belt loop forcing her  closer to him as his lips land on hers aggressively.   Brushing his beard against her skin, he kisses her roughly, his tongue teasing against her ripe lips. She doesn’t wait long before opening to him and kissing just as fiercely, biting and pulling at his swollen bottom lip in the process.  At the power of her mouth, a soft moan escapes his lips and her own sound mimics his in the quiet room.

Breaking contact, Chris sinks to his knees, gliding his hands down her tight denim clad thighs, smiling up at her from below.  Her head lowers as she looks down on him with a thoughtfully . curious grin.  At the back of her calf, he slowly unzips the heeled boot and pulls it off as she balances against the door.  His hungry look adds to her fueled desires and she can feel her panties get wet, shifting to rub them between her lower lips when he sets her foot to the ground, removing the other boot.

Tossing them both aside, his hands slide back up, creating a  tickle behind her knees, but she holds in her laughter.  This is hunger. This is power. This is different from anything she’s ever done before.  His hands reach up under the hem of her sweater, dipping his thumbs in the waist of her jeans and pulling them slowly down her legs.  He’s gonna draw this out… His breath is warm against her exposed flesh and goosebumps break across her pale skin.  Aiding in helping her to step out of them, he looks up again at the dark haired beauty in her black fuzzy sweater and red lace panties.  “Damn, that’s a beautiful Christmas picture… Red lace, how festive,” he teases.

Rising up on his knees, he reaches around to her hands still resting on the doorknob.  He holds them tightly behind her back, both her small hands in one of his.  She recognizes her smell of sex in the air at the same time he does and his eyes grow dark.  Angling towards the prize, Chris brushes the tip of his nose against the evident wet spot, inhaling deeper.  “You smell delicious and already so wet for me…”

Tilting his head to to the side, he presses his lips to her covered mound.  Boldly, he parts his lips and laps his tongue up and down the saturated silk.  Impulsively he stiffens his tongue and pushes the damp fabric between her folds, intruding against her sensitive clit.  With a sharp gasp, he feels her knees give way so he supports her with his other hand as she falls forward.  Letting her hands free, he smiles when she braces herself on his shoulders.  His hand now freed as well, he slips his fingers under the lace trim, pushing it aside and sliding his tongue through her wet slit.  “Sweet Jesus, yes,” she whispers, digging her nails into his shoulders.

Encouraged by her enthusiastic praise, he continues to lap at her pink walls, her sweet juice dripping to his beard.  From her position she rocks against him, using his tongue to fuck her, listening to her moans rise and fall.  Her sounds of delight change, becoming more high-pitched but still not loud enough to be heard by party-goers downstairs, when he surprises her by plunging two fingers inside her wet cavern.  His thick fingers penetrate deeply, working in tandem with his mouth.  When her pussy begins to pulse, grasping around him, he pulls away from her, not knowing her limitations. Lifting his shirt to wipe the sweet mess from his face, he licks his lips and raising his eyes to hers.  “You taste as good as you smell… You good?” he asks kindly, his own need echoed in his voice.

“Uh, huh,” she replies still weak against him.  “You’re not done; you didn’t finish me… I need more.”

Tugging on the shoulder seams of his shirt, she pulls it over his head as he rises to a standing position, pulling her sweater off her at the same time.  He wraps his arms around her full waist, lifting her off her feet and bringing her up to his eye level, placing his lips on her mouth, his tongue teasing her lower lip.  She stifles a moan, pulling back and wiping her own wet he shared with her from the corner of her mouth.  Wrapping her legs around his waist she begs, “Take me to the bed.”

“I’m all for granting Christmas wishes,” he replies with a devilish grin, turning on his heels and dropping her at the foot of the bed with a bounce.  Kicking off his shoes one at a time, he watches her eyes sweep over his solid chest, taking in his tattoos while he unbuckles his pants.  Shimmying out of them, he reveals maroon colored Calvins straining over his hard bulging cock.  He chuckles when she crab crawls backward on the bed and he chases after her.  Grabbing her ankle, he yanks her down the bed, climbing over top of her.  “Whatdya say I unwrap the rest of my Christmas present?” he challenges.

Still panting with her unmet need she wraps her leg around his thigh and sliding her silky smooth leg up and down his she purrs, “You can open your presents now… I think you’ve been a very good boy.”

Click here for “Nice” ending of the story

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

Christmas Adventures: Nice

Click here for the Opening of the story

An hour and a half later, tired and exhausted from work, she trudges up the stairs with the bags of groceries to her tiny apartment, admiring the wreath on her door.  She pauses momentarily before inserting the key into the lock, smiling to herself.  Entering directly into the living room, she can hear the sounds from the kitchen.  The wonderful smell fills her nose and walking past the beautifully set table she grabs a sugar cookie with a chocolate kiss in the center and pops it into her mouth.

Leaning against the door frame she watches her man at the stove.  He fluidly moves, shifting his weight from side to side as he reaches to the shelf of spices, adding something to the steaming pot.  He hums along quietly to the Christmas music on the radio and she sees the muscles tense in his back when he realizes she’s there.  He relaxes, resting the spoon on the edge of the pan; the smell of the bubbling sauce makes her stomach growl.  Wiping his hands on the Christmas towel, he turns to her with a smile.

“So, do all your friends think I’m a douche?”  Chris laughs as she steps into his open arms.

She shakes her head, laughing at him.  “No, not all of them.  Nancy thinks you’re a dick, hiding a secret family in New Jersey or something.”

“Oh, that’s great. Just great.”  He kisses the tip of her rosy red nose, cold from the winter night.  “We agree to keep things private, because you don’t want to be in the press, and I’m totally fine with that, but now all your friends think your boyfriend is an ass, and they probably secretly talk about you behind your back, wondering if it’s time to stage an intervention.”

“Well, they might want to after today’s performance when they find out you’re my secret boyfriend!  That didn’t help your cause any… What was that about?”

Chuckling, grabbing her ass, he says, “What?  You didn’t like my naughty Santa?”

“You were such an ass…,” she giggles when he jumps at her cold hands tucked inside his shirt collar.

“I couldn’t help it.  Once you walked into the kids’ game room, I wanted to get your attention.  I really thought you knew it was me, but you were so focused on the kids…  It was amazing to see you work, babe.  And then I figured you didn’t want Chani to know we knew each other so I kept up the act, you just followed my lead.”  He shrugs his shoulders.

“Like always.” Laughing, Janelle runs her hands over his jaw, scratching at his beard.  “I really had no idea it was you; I couldn’t figure out how Santa knew the kids’ names?  Cuz I talk about them all the time, right?” She smiles, when he nods his head.  “I felt like such an idiot when you came in the work room.  I don’t expect to see my superhero boyfriend at my place of work, but I’m so glad that-”

Chris places his hands on her face, delicately holding her while he tries to quiet her chatter.  He leans in for a kiss, slow and gentle at first, caressing her lips, reuniting his mouth to hers.  “Stop talking,” he whispers in puffs of air against her mouth, charging in with more kisses, each one with more urgency than the one before beginning to warm her up.

She can taste the chocolate on his lips.  “How many of those cookies did you eat?” she giggles, tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth as they kiss.

“They’re my favorite.  I think I’ve had about five.  We’ve got to get rid of them,” he chuckles.

“I’m sure your kids in New Jersey will like them,” she teases poking him in the ribs. His laughter fills the room.

As her hands run down his tight chest to the waist of his pants, settling on his hips, his hands unbutton the front of her heavy wool coat.  Reaching inside he places his warm hands on her breasts, cupping her and giving a needing squeeze.  “You feel so good,” he whispers.  “I missed you too!  I wanted to surprise you at work.”

He slides the coat down her shoulders and it drops to the floor as their mouths continue to comfort each other and get reacquainted. His hands grasp her forearms, lifting her up on her toes. She runs her tongue against his pouty bottom lip and feels him shiver at the contact. His kisses make her ready for more.

“I love the feel of your lips on mine,” he says quietly, his nose brushing against hers, still red and cold from the Boston winter air, pushing her against the counter. Turning the heat down on the stove, he slides the pot off the burner.  Sliding his lips across her jaw, he captures her tiny earlobe between his lips, taking a quick nip.  “You need to warm up.  I’m stuffed on cookies; can we eat later?”

Tilting her head back, Janelle opens her neck up for his sweet caresses, enjoying his affections.  Chris glides his lips along her neck, pulling back on the collar of her shirt.  “Mmm… I love when you smell like the hospital,” he chuckles, biting and kissing at the crook of her neck.  “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Bending to wrap his arms behind her knees, he lifts her over his shoulder and slaps her ass.  She reaches for a piece of the toasted garlic bread on the counter and takes a quick bite.  Walking towards the hallway, he pauses next to the table and blows out the candles.  “No,” Janelle laughs, reading his mind.  “It’s already set nicely; and I could use a shower after work.”

He starts moving down the hall again, turning to enter the bathroom carefully without banging her into the door and sets her gently down on the edge of the tub.  He starts the water for her, turning it up high, just like she likes.  He kisses the top of her head, handing her a towel and rising to exit the room.  She blows him a kiss, and he pauses at the door.  “I could put the Santa suit back on?  It’s in the car.”

Untangling herself from her scrub top, she pulls it over her head and stands before him in her boring work bra.  She drops it to the floor laughing at him.  “Sorry, babe. No Christmas kink here.”

Chris leans his head against the door, smiling at her.  “So you don’t want me to tie you up with the Christmas lights I got?”

He chuckles at the candy cane panties she’s wearing when she stands up straight from removing her work pants.  “‘Santa: I can explain.’”  He reads aloud.  “That’s not kink at all,” he laughs.

Janelle bends over in laughter, grasping her sides.  “Chani got them for me; I think they’re funny.  No I don’t have Christmas kink.  I was kidding all week about the Christmas lights, honey.”

Chris laughs at the somewhat shocked look on her face.  “Hell, I wasn’t.  I went to all the trouble of driving around when I wasn’t working to find the little ones that wouldn’t burn you.”  Watching with a grin, he admires as she removes her clothes for the shower, catching her bra when she tosses it in his face.

Pulling her hair loose from her braid and stepping naked into the shower, she laughs, “You’re a sick weirdo sometimes, you know that?”

A gut busting laugh echoes through the room.  “But I’m yours and you love it. Lights?”

“Lights,” she agrees as she pulls the curtain closed, her laughter echoing against the tiles as he closes the door to the room.

#

Hours later, Chris wipes the spaghetti sauce from her chin, playfully teasing her about her ravenous hungers.  “You really should eat more than lettuce and wraps and fast food when I’m gone, baby girl.  You gotta keep your energy up for when I’m home.”  Winking at her the implied energy he’s talking about, he uses the garlic bread to wipe up the last drops of sauce on his plate and savors the rich flavor as he chews slowly.  “Carbs.  Damn I miss carbs,” he chuckles.

Admiring his washboard abs, she laughs, “Oh, honey but you look so fucking good when you stay away from them.  It’s not fair.  I eat right.  I work out all the time.  You give up carbs for three weeks and look like a god.  Besides, you’re a better cook than I.  Why should I bother?  I’ll just freeze the leftovers and I’ll have food for awhile when you’re gone.  I’ll miss you, but some of your Italian lovin’ will still be right here with me.”

She giggles when he tosses his napkin at her playfully, and points to her plate.  She nods that she’s finished and he leans over, setting the two plates on the floor beside the bed.  “Don’t you think you need to learn to cook?” he asks quietly rising up on his knees and crawling to her.  “Who’s gonna cook for our kids when I’m away working?”

“Kids? Christopher, don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?  There are no kids till there is a wedding, there is no wedding till there is a ring and you know we said-”

His lips reach hers in time to shut her up.  “You talk too much, sassy girl,” he chuckles quietly, wrapping his hands in her hair, tilting her laughing face to his.  “What do I need to do to shut you up?”

“Impossible,” she laughs as she raises up on her knees as well, their kisses crashing against one another.  She tugs on the back of his hair, starting to grow back out, glad it will be longer by the time they take their Disney cruise at the end of January. That should have been her clue about Santa’s true identity at the hospital, but she was still in work mode at the time and was focused on her job.  “So, uh, where are those lights?  Maybe I should tie you up instead…” she taunts as she pushes him over backwards on the bed, landing solidly on top of him.

His leg rises up, creating a space for her to nestle her legs between his.  Wrapping his leg over the back of hers, he holds her tight to him.  “Oh, really?  That could be fun. Later… Ladies first.” His eyes gleam in the lights of the tree in the corner of their room. Kissing again, he pulls her hair, grabbing her closer to him as his mouth becomes more aggressive.  He begins to rock under her, moving and rolling her, his cock stiffening for round two.  She’s already slippery against him, her unfinished needs waiting to be cared for this time around.

“They’re in the gift bag beside the bed,” he tells her.  Chris rocks her forward just a bit more and she reaches out with her hand to pick up the little red bag covered in snowflakes.

Lifting the bag over the edge of the bed she sits up, moving to straddle him, teasing her waiting cunt against his hard cock.  He raises his head and pulls a pillow to him, bunching it up and resting back, smiling as she traces her finger over one of the glittered snowflakes.  Her hesitancy shows when she bites her lip nervously.  “Baby girl, it’s just some Christmas lights.  We can always try it another time; I don’t wanna do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

Rocking forward again, she grinds herself against him, giggling softly.  “Oh, no, honey, it’s not that… I want to, believe me, I want to… I’m just trying to figure out the best way to do it.”

He laughs, his arms dropping back against the bed as he bucks her up again, his eyes watching closely as she peers into the bag, looking for the end of the strand.  “Where’s the light switch?” She asks pulling at the string of lights.

“In the box; pull carefully and the cord shouldn’t tangle,” he advises, his smile growing.

Continuing to pull the lights out, she rests them delicately on the bed next to his outstretched leg.  She pauses, reaching the box at the bottom of the bag.  Flipping the switch, the lights don’t come on.  Cocking her head at him, she asks, “You didn’t test they work?  And really.  How are you gonna wrap me with these?”

“Of course I tested to see if they work; I’m not an idiot,” he laughs.  “Check the batteries didn’t get knocked loose.”

Opening the box, her jaw slowly drops, her hands beginning to shake.  He takes the battery box from her, grinning at the tears forming in her eyes.  Shaking the sparkling diamond ring from the box into his hand, he sets the box on the bed and pushes himself to a seated position.  Taking her left hand in his, he chokes back his own tears. “I think from this point forward, we do everything together.”

Salty tears of joy roll down her cheeks. “You’re proposing while we’re naked, you ass.” She whispers and laughs, wiping away her tears with her other hand. “It’s so us.”

He leans into her caress as she sweeps the tears from his face as well, chuckling.  Moving to slide the ring onto her slender finger, he continues his declaration of forever.  “You are my light, and cheer me up when I’m at my lowest.”  Chris pushes the ring into place, raising her hand to his lips, tenderly kissing the back of her hand.  “Honey, I wanna be tied to you forever, starting tonight with these Christmas lights.  Whatdya say, baby girl?”

Through tears and laughter, Janelle nods her head, whispering ‘yes’ again and again.

The couple sit together, kissing and caressing with tenderness and love as the heat rebuilds from before.  Chris extracts batteries he’d hidden in his pillow case and the lights quickly glow to life.  Holding her hand in his, he wraps the lights around their wrists, binding them together.

“Hey,” she giggles.  “Did you write that down first, or was it off the top of your head?”

He laughs loudly and raucously, the sound vibrating against her body and jostling her to a different sitting position, his cock right at the entrance to her sweet hole.  With his free hand, he lifts under her ass and moves her towards him, gliding her onto his rod, willing and waiting.  Her wet welcomes him in and she breathes a sigh of relief as she whispers ‘yes’ one more time.  He shifts again, cradling her in his lap and she folds her legs tightly behind him. Taking the string of lights she wraps them around his back, leaning to the Tolle quote tat and lapping it with her tongue as she rocks against him, sliding him deeper into her sweet hole.

“Fuck, I missed this.  I miss us,” he sighs, leaning his head back as he enjoys the attention she gives along his collarbone, a shiver down his spine when she runs her tongue up the pulsing vein, landing to kiss and nibble at his ear.  Commandeering the sparkling white lights, he takes them from her, and laces them across her back, winding them down her arm as well.

“That tickles,” she giggles at the delicate touch of his fingertips, ensuring the bulbs are not too hot against her skin.  Yet his thrusts in and out of her plush inner walls become more forceful, claiming what is his.

He raises his legs, planting his feet firmly on the bed, changing the angle he pistons into her, bouncing her full breasts against his chest. He strings the lights over and around his leg before dropping the pile of glowing white bulbs on the bed next to them.  Grasping her rib cage on either side he forces her back and extracts himself from deep inside. She whines her dislike of the situation but playfully laughs when he propels her onto her back on the oversized bed, landing on top of her since they are loosely tied together by the Christmas lights. “That’s better,” she praises, opening her legs for him.

Resting up on his knees, holding his weight off her, he grips their tied hands above her head. “Can’t escape now,” he growls, his breath hot against her neck as his lips graze over her skin, finally stopping to capture one of her taut peaks between his plump lips.

“Don’t want to,” she replies bucking her mound against his pelvis, needing his sex back inside her. She moans in frustration, the sound low and animalistic in the room.  His mouth wrecks havoc on her nerve endings and quiet whimpers escape from her lips. “Please, Christopher, baby… oh,” she pauses as her breathing heightens, her body reacting beyond her control as he moves from one sweet nipple, sliding his nose down the valley between her breasts and circling his tongue around the other. “Baby, I need you. I need you to fuck me. Please. Don’t make me wait any more.”

He hums against her breast, his tongue flickering against the tight pink bud, ignoring her request. Her free hand clenches his hair and she tries to raise him up as she bucks against him, her dripping wet need escaping between her legs.  She longs to be connected to him, to stretch for him and to let him fill her in every way possible. The light cord dangling at her side catches her attention and she gives it a harsh tug, collapsing him to her with an exhaled “oomph.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “Did you need something?” he gladly asks, taking the cord from her, as she places her leg in the crook of his elbow, smiling when he tangles the strand around her thigh. He tosses the cord to the other side of the bed before driving his pulsing cock into his favorite Christmas present.

His force crushes the air from her body and she struggles to right her breathing. “I need you,” she chants between belaboured breaths.  “God, yes, harder,” she encourages him as he drives her into the bed..

The tangled lights limit the range of movement, but she opens her legs wider, allowing him to sink closer to her.  The wiring around his leg shifts, creating additional friction against her swollen outer lips, an unfamiliar sensation as her crest builds.  With her free hand she pulls the light strand, adding to the tension.

He can feel the change as her walls begin to tighten, each plunge deeper in and she constricts around him as he pulls out, teasing her rim and brushing against her taint with the velvety head of his cock.. She’s yanking the light strand tight enough to dig into his skin. Tilting his head up he locks his dark eyes on her face. Her eyes are closed, her dark lashes against her flushed freckled skin. Her beauty calms and excites him at the same time. A few more intrusions into her luscious center and he senses she is right on the edge of tipping over. “Baby girl, look at me.” Fluttering open, her eyes flash dark. “Beautiful baby girl; all mine. Let go, let go.”

At his command, she squeezes around his shaft, dragging him to the brink. The orgasm rolls through her body and as she comes she cries his name quietly, whispering words of love.  Her body shudders against him and her grip on the light cord loosens.

He continues his rhythm as she mewls and settles, keeping her legs open for him.  Hitting against her inner walls, he tightens, feeling his quake rise up from his toes.  Squeezing her hand tightly that is tied to his he whispers, “I’m yours,” as he spills his love into her.

#

Hours later, the lights lay tangled at their feet, her cat batting at the cord hanging over the edge of the bed.  She asks with true concern in her voice.  “What the hell are we gonna tell people when they ask us our engagement story?”

Click here for the “Naughty” ending to the story

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