Warpath

warpath jan 20 2019

Warpath

Chapter 6

By avenger-nerd-mom & devikafernando

AU Fan Fiction

In the sequel to Educating Thalia, the lovely Thalia Bareo is trying to grow up, making her own way in the world after losing both men she loved, Professors Chris Evans and Tom Hiddleston. The sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago holds down a job as she tries to deal with the real world. She continues her studies and freelances as a consultant for museums around the world. Being Thalia updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Warning: As a whole, this work contains adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. Each chapter will not be coded with individual warnings. The overall story contains no hidden triggers.

If you are new to the series and characters, click here to the beginning of Educating Thalia.

If you are looking for other stories in the sequel, click here for the beginning of Being Thalia

Summary: Someone is a little bitter about Thalia’s collection of professors.

Previous Chapter, Sensitivity Training

Word Count 1676

2019, Summer Semester

Thalia watches the ball bounce back and forth, catching it each time. She briefly wonders what would happen if she shifted her aim a foot to the right. Would the windows shatter? Would she be responsible to replace them?

She bounces it again, and catches it, on repeat.

Her rhythm is only broken when her phone rings. She snatches the ball from the air and lays it on her desk. Dropping her feet to the floor, she swivels in her chair. Leaning forward against the fake wood surface, she reaches in her back pocket and pulls out the device.

“Hey, babe? What’s up?” Thalia asks. Her melancholy hangs with her, and her voice is dry and devoid of emotion. She sighs.

“Sounds like a long day,” the familiar voice offers. Rich and deep, it washes over her like a salve to her soul. “Wanna go for a run? Avery’s at dance, and her mother is picking her up after, for the night.”

“Evans? How long have you known me?” She chuckles, reaching for the pale yellow envelope propped against her lamp. “How many times are you gonna ask me for a run before you realize I’m never gonna say yes? How many times do I gotta tell you, my thighs could chafe and start a small fire?”

His laughter echoes through the line and she smiles, picturing him in her mind’s eye. “Well, babe, you were a sophomore when you were in my class?” He teases. “Before you could legally drink? I don’t know, it feels like we’ve known each other forever, and I’ve told you a million times, that’s not how fires work.”

She chuckles and feigns indignance. “Are you saying I’m getting old and I’m not hot enough?”

“Definitely hot enough. And you keep me young. I’m the one getting older.” He scoffs. “I can skip the run tonight. Why don’t you come home and let me show you how hot I think you are?”

Running her finger over the embossed gold lettering on the envelope, she smiles, daydreaming about the sexy flecks of gray in his scruffy beard. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes. Have a shower ready.”

Tucking the phone in her back pocket, she puts the yellow envelope high on the shelf behind her. It could change everything, but it’s not pressing now. Out of sight, out of mind. She shuffles around some papers, organizing stacks to grade and notes to research. Picking up the large manuscript, post-its sticking out everywhere, she thumps her finger over her name on the cover page. Tilting her head to the right, she gasps when it pops, but realizes the tension in her neck fades. She shoves the draft into her bag and reaches for her jacket.

“You leaving?” calls the voice from across the hall.

“Yeah,” she replies stepping to the hall and locking the door behind her.

Professor Hemsworth stands from behind his desk. “Let me walk you out, it’s kinda late and there’s been talk around campus, girls getting attacked at night.”

“There’s always talk,” she leans in the door frame. “Young kids, no parents, frat parties and bars nearby… I went to the seminar earlier this week with some of my students for the training on how to defend yourself.”

The muscular blond grabs his bag from the couch and joins her in the hallway, locking his door. “That’s good. You took care of yourself, knew what to do. That’s good you talk about it, let your students learn from you.”

“It was tough as hell, Hems, not really shit I wanna talk about.” She shrugs. “But now I’ve been invited to speak at two dorm house meetings next week, and possibly the keynote speaker at the rally sorority row is planning for next month, when everyone’s back on campus.”

“A wonderful role model for these young women.” He reaches his arm around her shoulder and pulls her close. “You’re tough. I respect that.” Walking down the hallway, he tenderly kisses the top of her head. “Like a Valkyrie.” His deep, thick accent is full of pride in his friend. “Full of such complex emotion, warm and caring, faithful and loyal to men. Unless they need an ass kicked.”

Reaching the stairwell, Professor Joanna Kent falls into footsteps with them, and uninvited, joins their conversation. “Depends on the works you read, Professor Hemsworth. Not all Valkyries were so innocent. You should know that.”

Hemsworth halts their steps, nonchalantly standing between the two women. Thalia feels a vulnerability, standing a few steps below her former professor, a woman she slighted, not once but twice. Kent has had it out for her since her return to the university as a colleague. “What do you mean, Mrs. Kent?” Chris Hemsworth asks, resting his hand on the stair railing. Thalia shifts her weight, hiding behind the expanse of his broad back, holding in her glee at his dismissal of her preferred title.

“In my studies of Norse mythology, Valkyrie are often depicted as cold, cunning women, true evil beings who take advantage of the men with whom they have affairs. They seem to have considerable control of those around them, often domineering and bold.”

Blood starts to curse through Thalia’s veins, understanding Kent’s play on words. Waiting out the cat fight, she takes another approach. Stepping from behind her protector, Thalia smiles, “Oh, Joanna, I had no idea you saw me as ‘domineering and bold!’ That’s really a kick ass compliment, thank you.” Kent splutters, at a loss for words. Thalia wrinkles her forehead, changing her expression to one of confusion. “I mean, that’s what you meant, right? ‘Cuz, it kinda sounded like a slam, that you think I’m an evil bitch, but it was also mixed with praise. I am all for bold dommes.” Running her hands down her side, and straightening her crisp white dress shirt, she grins. “You like that type, right?”

“Girl,” Kent growls, leaning forward, creating enough presence Hemsworth actually shrinks back. “Watch it.” She wags her finger in Thalia’s face. “I should have nailed your ass to the wall when I had the chance-”

Thalia begins to walk away, “You never had that chance. You’re not my type.”

Kent snarls. “Listen, Missy, I know what you were up to then, and I see it now. You’re just zebra island trash. What makes you think you can go around collecting all the pretty boys on campus? Everyone knows why you got a job here, sleeping your way up.”

Thalia lunges forward, Kent stepping back and Hemsworth, eyes wide with shock, restraining her. “You fuckin’ bitch, you don’t know shit and how dare you slur against me? I’ll have your damn job for that, because I’m sure derogatory racial comments rank higher as “socially unacceptable” than me fucking a professor.” Climbing up another step, she stands eye level with Kent. “You’re still pissed he couldn’t get it up for you, you old goat, and mad I rejected your advances too. Come at me; see what happens.”

She pushes past Kent, going back up the stairs, Hemsworth following.

“What the actual fuck was that?” He smiles nervously.

hemsworth smiles

She holds up her hand, already opening her phone to make a call. On the third ring, she spits out. “It’s on. Kent’s on a warpath, and I have to file a University grievance now before she can clap back at me. I’m gonna be late. Go ahead and take your run…. Babe, I don’t have time to explain it now… No, I wasn’t alone. Hemsworth was walking me to out to the car. He’s a witness… Yeah, he’s a good friend.” She turns her head away from Hemsworth when he flinches at the dismissal. “Bake brownies too. I’ll bring ice cream.” She chuckles. “Yes, it’s that bad.” Thalia rolls her eyes, ending the call.

Hemsworth bites his lip. “Is he still jealous we’re friends?” He adjusts his glasses, trying to hide his hurt feelings.

“I’m sure he is, a little bit, but he knows the ‘surfer Norse God’ look you’ve got going on is not my thing.” She chuckles. “We’ve known each other a long time. Now, we’re always honest with each other. I’ve earned his trust.”

“I still think I could beat him at arm wrestling,” he chuckles, flexing his muscles.

“I’m sure you could.” She pats his arm. “Maybe at the barbeque next weekend. Bring that physicist you met. What’s her name? Jane?” Thalia pushes her hip against her door, opening the office. “Listen, go on home. I’m gonna be here awhile,” she says, flipping on the overhead light.

He shakes his head ‘no.’ “I can’t leave you- what if she came back? I was a witness, I can file a complaint also. If I understood it? What exactly did she mean?”

Thalia sits back in her office chair, turning on her computer. “My dad was Afro-Puerto Rican and my bio-mom was white. Mixed.” She tugs on her mane of unruly curls. “A zebra.” She shrugs. “I only heard it as a kid, growin’ up in the neighborhood. If that’s the worst thing she could think of to call me, I’m good with it. But I’m still gonna slam her for it. Petty bitch.”

He nods. “And I gather there’s more to the story from when you went to Uni here that you haven’t told me?”

Thalia exhales slowly, nodding and running her hand across her forehead. “Remember when we met last year, when I said I didn’t sleep with my science professor?”

“I kinda figured that part out.” Hemsworth smirks, resting on the arm of the couch.

“Surfer boy smarter than he appears, huh?” She chuckles, opening her email. “Yeah, Chris and I’ve dated off and on for the last three years. We met at the bar, where I worked.” She stares at the computer screen for a moment, sighing. “I wasn’t his student, although I was in his class years before, as an undergrad. And I eventually did some work for him as a grad assistant, helped with research and editing for his book. But that’s not the whole story. Kent didn’t know about him. That’s not who she was talking about…”

Click here for Chapter 7, Family Matters

Copyright © 2019 avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Sensitivity Training

ch 5 sensitivity train jan 16 2019

Sensitivity Training

Chapter 5

By avenger-nerd-mom & devikafernando

AU Fan Fiction

In the sequel to Educating Thalia, the lovely Thalia Bareo is trying to grow up, making her own way in the world after losing both men she loved, Professors Chris Evans and Tom Hiddleston. The sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago holds down a job as she tries to deal with the real world. She continues her studies and freelances as a consultant for museums around the world. Being Thalia updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Warning: As a whole, this work contains adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. Each chapter will not be coded with individual warnings. The overall story contains no hidden triggers.

If you are new to the series and characters, click here to the beginning of Educating Thalia.

If you are looking for other stories in the sequel, click here for the beginning of Being Thalia

Summary: The faculty is required to attend training on harassment and how to have proper relations with students and co-workers.

Previous Chapter, Strong Shoulders

Word Count 1999

2019, Spring Semester

Involuntarily, his lips tilt up into a smile as she enters the room. Her new best pal, Professor Chris Hemsworth, right on her heels. They’re laughing at something he’s showing her on his phone. She doesn’t even turn towards him, but he watches her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, highlighting her freckles. She knows he’s watching. Looking around the faculty office, everyone is catching up with others, talking about their Spring vacations. Professor Evans scowls at the new TA attempting to make googly eyes towards Thalia. The younger man nervously drops his folder, papers scattering everywhere. Chris covers his mouth, hiding his chuckle. Pulling his glasses from his pocket, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, pretending to read the packet on appropriate interactions with students. Instead, his focus is his new roommate.

Hemsworth detaches himself, and moves to the table with coffee and snacks. Thalia sits, stretching her thick legs out and leans back in her chair, beginning to talk quietly to another faculty member. Her hair hangs down her back, nearly long enough to sit on when she straightens it, as she has been of late. Chris’s fingers itch, wishing to reach out and run them through her silky tresses. His stomach tightens, remembering how his fingers always tangled in her curls, wondering what it would feel like to truly brush his hands through her hair now. He exhales audibly and shifts in his seat, attracting the attention of the woman next to him. Offering her a crooked smile, he resumes his reading. After a moment, he returns his gaze to Thalia. Her clothes hug her round figure, the leather jacket pulled tight and buttoned over her plump belly. She’s laughing animatedly, reaching for the coffee Hemsworth offers her, but turns away the donut. The blond oaf shoves a big bite in his mouth and takes an empty chair in the row in front of her.

He really hates that guy. How is Norse Mythology even a real study? It’s exactly that. Myths. No proof.

Chris focuses his gaze on Thalia again. As usual, the present blends with the past whenever she’s around. He remembers every inch of her olive toned skin, her flesh pliable under his fingers. The way she would arch into him, goosebumps rising, her breath echoing between them… The way she would hold him tight as they rode out their orgasms together and then she would-

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” Professor Joanna Kent announces. “Thank you all for taking the time to attend this training on appropriate workplace behaviors-”

“We’re timing you, Joanna. Think of it as a TED Talk. You’ve got eighteen minutes,” a voice calls out from the back and the staff laugh.

“Fine. That’s easy.” The woman leans over to switch on the large screen. Somehow in her movements, her overly sweet cologne wafts across, tickling his nose and he sneezes twice. Having trouble, she mumbles under her breath about hating technology. “Ok, fine. While this powers up,” she hands a clipboard to the faculty member closest to her, “everyone has to sign in to document for the university you’ve attended this sensitivity training.”

She continues to fiddle with the computer cords and a low buzz rises in the room as everyone begins chatting again. Chris’s phone vibrates, and he reaches in his coat pocket to pull it out. He laughs, reading the text.

Kent’s perfume has been known to cause allergy attacks. Don’t get too close. You’ll be sneezing all week.

Looking up, his eyes lock on Thalia’s. She smirks. Bowing his head, he quickly types out his reply.

Thanks for the warning. Not that I planned to get too close to her.

Moments later, her reply appears.

I’m told she’s a witty conversationalist at dinner, but horror of horrors! She orders fruit salad as dessert.

Feeling her watching him, he shoots back a pithy comment.

Proof she’s not human. Everyone knows to get cheesecake, or ice cream. She’s obviously an alien.

He smiles when he hears her bark of laughter across the noisy room, but looks up as the den falls silent moments later.

On the projector screen behind Professor Kent’s head, in bold hot pink type are the words ‘Don’t Have Sex with Students.’

“TED Talk over,” says the deep voice.

Papers rustle and sounds of the faculty shifting nervously in their chairs quickly turns to a quiet rumble.

“Yeah, we seriously have to have an inservice on this?”

“We’re not creepy pervs.”

“Ridiculous, they’re just kids.”

“We have to be told this?”

He bites his tongue from laughing at the text when his phone vibrates again.

Hi, creepy perv

STOP!” Kent’s voice echoes, nodding. “There are rumors and complaints being investigated, in several departments across campus. Everyone is receiving this training, to be aware of signs to look for and be aware of, and these comments could fall under harassment, so behave yourselves, and let’s follow the guide passed out by the Head Dean, shall we?”

She clears her voice and launches into her prepared presentation. He shakes his head, not being able to look at Thalia. Honestly, he can’t help but wonder if old allegations could arise? Months after she graduated and moved to Paris, it had been rumored there were inappropriate relations in the history department. He was surprised a finger was never pointed at her, and had walked on eggshells for weeks, relieved she was another continent away and safe from the gossip mill.

He vaguely listens as Kent outlines reasons, such as abuse of authority, ‘corrosive of the educational experience,’ and sexualizing the workplace, but then his damn twisted sense of humor gets the best of him.

It was educational, right?

He looks around the room, waiting for her response. Everyone is reading their packet, staring out the window, making no eye contact with anyone out of fear, or embarrassment. Except one person. Her eyes are sparkling, and he knows it’s on.

Very educational. Learned a lot. Lots of practice helped, private tutoring, hands on…

Chris closes his mind, shutting out the memory he hadn’t been the only one educating Thalia. His fingers fly across the screen, sending his next message.

One sign should have been underwear behind the couch in my office. The cleaning crew needs this training too.

Moments pass as Kent’s shrill voice drones on.

Don’t forget condoms in trash cans. And underwear wouldn’t have been behind the couch if you weren’t always taking them from me, and flinging them like a slingshot

He licks his lips, and types his reply.

Underwear under short plaid skirts is all wrong. If you’d watch porn, you’d know that

He nearly chokes at the return comment.

Who said I don’t watch porn?

Fuckin’ hell, the new, older Thalia is almost too much sass. The image of her laying on her bed- the bed in the guest room, in the basement of his house, where she’s been staying since her apartment fire in January- fingering herself to whatever she gets off on is almost too much for him. He shifts in his seat. He quickly opens a locked file on his phone, eyeing right and left to make sure no one is watching him, and he sends a picture back to her.

It’s one he keeps. She’s bent over a display in the library, late at night, working on a project, in a short plaid skirt. The lacy underwear fits snug against her ass, the elastic bunched up and tucked in between her folds on one side. They’d gone back to his office, and fucked like the building was on fire, and he’d teased her for wearing underwear.

That’s what you get off to when you’re all alone?

Chris fumbles with his phone, nearly dropping it when an image fills his screen. His hand wrapped around his cock, in a black and white image he vaguely remembers sending her years before.

This works for me.

His mouth drops open and he nervously inhales. Works. Present tense. As if she still admires the photo, after all this time and all that’s passed between them.

Doesn’t matter nowas if she can read his mind- you’ve got a girlfriend

Chris swallows, feeling his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. Flexing his fingers, it’s almost like they’re thinking about what to type next.

Not anymore. She left. While you were in Puerto Rico on Spring Break.

Waiting a beat, he wonders what she’ll say next.

Sorry. Probably my fault. Break up pig out? Pizza and ice cream tonight?

He scoffs, shaking his head. Closing his eyes, he says a silent prayer.

No pig out necessary. Wasn’t meant to be. Don’t you have plans with the Ken doll?

Holding his breath, he waits for the reply. He watches her eyes gaze at the back of Hemsworth’s head before dropping to her lap, tapping away on her phone.

No plans I can’t change. I told you, we’re just friends. He’s got a date later. Some chick in the science department.

Heart pounding, he can actually feel little beads of sweat forming on his upper lip, hidden by his beard. He’s out of practice, but he’s pretty sure she’s flirting, baiting him. Deciding to pull the line, he types quickly. Got a plaid skirt?

He hears her voice chirp across the room. He looks up, but her face is hidden behind her hair. Chris really wants nothing more than to meet her back at home and fall into bed with her, picking up where they left things off, as if no time had passed.

You aren’t paying attention. Now we’re getting lectured on not dating coworkers.

Looking up to the screen behind Professor Kent, she’s showing a training video about professional behaviors in the workplace among colleagues. The room titters with laughter when the character on screen is identified as “Thalia” and she’s receiving unwanted emails from a male coworker, lewdly complimenting her clothing.

“Gawd, I hate those emails. Stop sending them,” she jokes and the room laughs, lighter from her influence. “I can’t help I’m so good looking,” she laughs, dropping her head back down to look at the packet in her lap.

“I’m from Australia. I didn’t know any better,” Hemsworth adds, turning around and patting her thigh as the mood in the room shifts.

Chris focuses on the lecture, feeling slightly dejected. He doesn’t know what he thought, now feeling foolish for thinking Thalia would run back to him.

Not really dating if I’m living in your basement and we never go out? Probably another training on that, perv. After this meeting, I have my three o’clock class. Don’t have plaid skirts anymore, but I can make mean margaritas. Grilled steaks and fajitas on the back patio?

***

Thalia’s eyes flutter open, blinking slowly. She pulls her hair from under her shoulder, fanning it out over the pillow. The light filtering through the windows is sunny and bright, a pleasant change. Stretching deliciously, she can’t hide the smile on her face. Biting her lip, she feels her cheeks warming. With another stretch, she arches her back off the bed, the comforter falling from her hip. Her head still buzzes from the tequila the night before, and her body aches in ways long forgotten. Rolling to her side, she throws her arm over her bed mate, tracing her fingers over his tattooed shoulder. Sense memory responds, her fingers remembering every bump and blemish of the marking on his beautiful skin. Just like he’d shown her last night that he remembers every single thing that makes her breath stutter and her body shudder. When they came together–twice, she recalls with a decadent little shiver–it was as if he broke her, then put her back together. Not the way she was before everything came crashing down around her, but almost.

And that’s good enough for now.

Moving closer, pressing her body to his, Thalia whispers huskily in his ear, “You still owe me number Three.”

Click for Chapter 6, Warpath

Copyright © 2019  avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Strong Shoulders

ch 4 strong shoulders jan 13 2019

Strong Shoulders

Chapter 4

By avenger-nerd-mom & devikafernando

AU Fan Fiction

In the sequel to Educating Thalia, the lovely Thalia Bareo is trying to grow up, making her own way in the world after losing both men she loved, Professors Chris Evans and Tom Hiddleston. The sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago holds down a job as she tries to deal with the real world. She continues her studies and freelances as a consultant for museums around the world. Being Thalia updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Warning: As a whole, this work contains adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. Each chapter will not be coded with individual warnings. The overall story contains no hidden triggers.

**THIS CHAPTER DOES HAVE MENTION OF A SICK PARENT**

If you are new to the series and characters, click here to the beginning of Educating Thalia.

If you are looking for other stories in the sequel, click here for the beginning of Being Thalia

Summary: Thalia returns to Chicago for a quiet holiday with her father and stepmother

Word Count 1263

Previous Chapter, Attraction

December 2018

Thalia had been looking forward to the month long winter holiday with her family in Chicago, but now she wonders if she can ever escape old memories. Walking down the hallway, the place seems smaller, and the peeling wallpaper and chipped trim adds to her dreary mood. Examining the tree, she wryly smiles at the old ornaments, things she’d made in grade school. She briefly wonders what happened to the Nativity she and her mother had painted before her mother walked out. Tapping her finger against the bell from her cousin’s wedding, she sends up happy thoughts for the couple and laughs at an old picture of her and her friend Amy stuffed in among the branches. A silly glass ornament of a hot dog catches her eye, and she wonders how it made it to the tree from the shelf in her room.

Tom. She falters at the thought of him, her heart momentarily stopping.

Tom had bought the ornament as a joke three years before when he had surprised her by turning up in the city. They’d shared such a wonderful time, geeking out over the museums, stuffing themselves with local food. Fucking each other’s brains out in the hotel that night, putting the tie she’d gifted him for Christmas to good use.

Fuck him, she mumbles, staring out the window at the falling snow.

The memories were too much. Stacey found her curled up on the couch in the den. The motherly blonde sat cradling the broken young woman in her arms. “I really fucked up, Stacey. I can’t fix it. I can’t change it, and they’re both gone.”

“Oh, honey,” she says, wiping away her stepdaughter’s tears. She cups her face in her hands and gently kisses her nose. “There are other handsome princes. You’ll love again, in time.”

Thalia sobs harder, her body quaking from a broken heart. This isn’t her first meltdown, but it’s the only time she’s let another soul in on her pain. Except for Jim Beam and Johnnie Walker, no one has seen her this bad, this devastated.

“I don’t want anyone else,” she yelps, choking on her tears. “I met, I met someone… Other than a sexy voice, and being a professor,” she scoffs, “he’s not my type. But I like him. He’s nice, he’s funny. He’s Australian and dammit, his name is Chris!” She hollers through her tears.

“Everything okay up there?” Carlos Bareo calls up the stairs.

“Nooo,” whines Thalia, collapsing again in her mother’s arms.

“Carlos, honey, we’ll be awhile,” Stacey yells back. “Why don’t you just order in some dinner tonight? We’ll be down soon.”

“Oh, God, I don’t want him to see me like this. Not when he warned me-”

“Life’s too short to say ‘I told you so.’ He won’t want you hiding away in here the whole time you’re home. He’s looking forward to the special tour you arranged for the National Museum of Puerto Rican Arts and Culture.” Stacey passes a tissue to Thalia, doing her best to change the subject, while the younger woman noisily blows her nose. “So tell me about this other guy? What’s he like?”

She blows her nose again, wadding up the tissue and dropping it in the trash can next to the couch. She inhales deeply, looking up to the ceiling. “Nothing to tell. I blew it. After a quick and much needed make out session on his couch the other night, when we got to his bedroom, he had the same bedspread Tom and I had in Paris, and my Chris’s book on his nightstand, the one I helped edit.” She chuckles, wiping the end of her dripping nose with another tissue, the tears finally slowing and beading up on her lashes. “I kinda freaked out a little, couldn’t breathe. I mean he’s trying to take my sweater off, and I’ve got a movie montage in my head of that damn bedspread.” She visibly swallows, making a clicking sound in the back of her throat. “We’re really only work friends, it was like the second time I’d hung out at his house. We don’t know each other well enough to read the clues, so I finally had to put the brakes on-”

“Oh, honey, that’s really-”

She hiccups and giggles. “Awful, I know, right? I just told him, well, I was tracing his abs, so it took a moment to sink in, but I couldn’t stop staring at him. I swear, Stacey, it was like a twelve pack, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” She sighs deeply. “Probably never will again,” she says wistfully, “I’m gonna be a nun. Anyway, I asked if he remembered me saying I’d recently ended a relationship, and I told him the bedspread was the same, and I couldn’t handle it.”

Stacey hides her smile behind her hand. “Then what happened, honey?”

Thalia snorts. “Guys like him don’t exist in real life. He took me back downstairs to the kitchen, and we devoured a roll of cookie dough, instead of each other. He told me about his ex, and how he ended up in the States. At some point, I think I went into a sugar coma, because I woke up on his couch yesterday morning while he was making a mad dash to gather things up to pack to go back home for the term break.” She smiles weakly. “I made him breakfast and helped him with a few things before I left to get home and finish packing my own bags.”

Stacey’s jaw drops. “So he was totally okay with it, not having sex, and just being a good guy? A real friend?”

Thalia lifts her eyebrows. “I know, crazy right?”

“A Christmas miracle,” Stacey laughs.

A quiet night in with her parents was just what she needed to help escape from memories, but then real life caught up fast. Her father was in ailing health, and they spent long hours together during her break. His repeated refrain was the old adage, ‘If you love something, let it go. If it was meant to be, it will come back.’

She never knew if he was talking about her love life, and if so, which man was he referring to, or if he was rambling about his happiness she had returned home after so long an absence.

Thalia never got a chance to ask her father about it. He died shortly after she returned to the school for the winter term.

While she was gone for his funeral, her small apartment complex was destroyed by a fire.

Once again a nomad, the young woman had shown up at Professor Chris Evans’ door with just her suitcase from her trip and really no place to go. He accepted her with open arms. Avery was pleased as punch to have her favorite playmate back in the house again. His girlfriend? Not so much…

Shortly after moving in, Thalia heard them in the kitchen late one night.

“How long is she gonna be staying here?”

The sound of a glass beer bottle hitting the table echoed through the downstairs. “Karen, she’ll stay as long as she needs to. She lost everything, what part of that do you not get?” His voice is tired, agitated just below the surface.

“She was your student, and you dated her, and now she’s living in our basement. That’s just fucked up and-”

Putting in her earbuds, she tuned out the rest of the conversation. She jogged down the steps to her room, flopping across the bed. Scrolling through the phone, she continued her search for apartment listings, looking for a new place to live.

Next chapter, Sensitivity Training

Copyright © 2019  avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Attraction

ch 3 attraction jan 9 2019

Attraction

Chapter 3

By avenger-nerd-mom & devikafernando

AU Fan Fiction

In the sequel to Educating Thalia, the lovely Thalia Bareo is trying to grow up, making her own way in the world after losing both men she loved, Professors Chris Evans and Tom Hiddleston. The sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago holds down a job as she tries to deal with the real world. She continues her studies and freelances as a consultant for museums around the world. Being Thalia updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Warning: As a whole, this work contains adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. Each chapter will not be coded with individual warnings. The overall story contains no hidden triggers.

If you are new to the series and characters, click here to the beginning of Educating Thalia.

If you are looking for other stories in the sequel, click here for the beginning of Being Thalia

Summary: As her first semester of teaching comes to a close, Thalia finds some quiet and relaxation.

Word Count 1361

Previous Chapter

December 2018

“Since I have to go to the airport too, why don’t I just drive you?” Professor Chris Hemsworth yells down the hallway.

Dumping the popcorn in the red bowl, she sprinkles it liberally with salt, pretending not to hear him. Rides to the airport indicate something more. And she doesn’t want that. Not yet. She patters down the hallway in the fuzzy Christmas socks he gave her, careful not to slip on the polished hardwood floors. The colored lights on the tree casts prisms around the room, reflecting against the bay window. She throws the DVD box in his lap and plops down on the couch next to him, settling the popcorn bowl on her lap.

He groans, though the light plastic couldn’t have hurt. “I asked if you wanted to a ride to the airport?”

Fiddling with the remote, she lifts her head to share a smile with him. “That’s a nice idea, but my flight leaves hours before yours.” She drops her head, looking over the buttons for the one she needs to start the DVD. “And I’ve already arranged a ride with a few students who will be on my flight.”

He lifts his eyebrow, apparently not buying her story, but he doesn’t say anything. The surround sound fills the room, growing louder as if testing the speakers, and the home screen lights up the TV.

“Point Break?” he chuckles, reaching into the bowl, his fingertips brushing against hers.

“Sure. Why not, you’re always bragging about surfing at Byron Bay. Thought this would make you feel at home,” she laughs, reaching forward for the box of Milk Duds.

Propping his feet up on the ottoman, Chris jokes,“If we’re gonna watch Swayze, what about Dirty Dancing, Ghost, or hell even, Road House?”

“Dirty Dancing?”

He wiggles on the couch. “I can move my hips. I’m a very good dancer.” He stretches his arm over the back of the couch, twirling his fingers in her curly hair. “Maybe we could go dancing sometime?”

“We’ll see,” she says, relaxing into his touch, practically purring as he plays with her hair. “That feels good,” she exhales quietly. “Do that some more.”

“¿Más?” he drawls. “¿Te gusta? That’s it. That’s all I know. Cerveza.”

Laughing so much, she practically snorts. “Time for Rosetta Stone, dude.” They settle in to watch the movie, making jokes about the president masks and talking about how they’d spend stolen money.

Sitting side by side on the couch, someone always has an arm squished in the middle. Relaxing against the cushion, she sighs and rests her hand gently on his thick thigh, not knowing where else to put it, after losing circulation from sitting on her hand. Shit, what a thigh! She bites back the groan lodged at the back of her throat, and tries to focus on the pretty men on the screen in front of her. It doesn’t help. Jesus, she needs to get laid.

Obviously not interested in the movie, Chris does everything he can to distract her.  As the action on the screen unfolds, his grasp on her neck becomes tighter as he massages the stressed tissues. “So tense, Thalia. Don’t you ever relax?” She rolls her head to the right, laying it against his muscular forearm, elongating her neck as he continues kneading her soft skin. “Orchids. How do you always smell of orchids?” He whispers, his warm breath blowing across the top of her head.

His accent lulls her into a calming state. “You’re gonna put me to sleep if you keep that up.” The popcorn bowl slides off her lap, falling sideways onto the couch. “You know I’ve been working overtime on prepping for the Spring semester, and the display layout for that museum opening in Atlanta.”

Chris twists on the couch, reaching across her for the popcorn bowl. In his grasp, he lifts it up and places it on the table behind the couch. His hand slides back down over her shoulder, toying with a dark, curly tendril caught in the crook of her arm, pulling it free. “You work too hard, worry too much.”

She sighs, her breasts lifting in her fitted V-neck sweater. His eyes focus on the rise and fall of her chest. “Hey, blondie, my eyes are up here,” she chuckles, grabbing his hand and holding it in above her shoulder.

His blue eyes lift and lock on hers and for a moment she gets lost in them. They are a different blue staring back at her, clear like the ocean. She wonders if they ever turn gray and stormy, or sometimes even a shade of green. She sucks in a deep breath and their bodies become completely still. The air fills with tension and electricity between them crackles over the sounds from the old movie. She’s been so careful until now, guarding her heart and protecting herself. Everything about Hemsworth, she could never think of him as Chris, for obvious reasons, everything was always comfortable and natural. Their relationship was tentative, teasing about who would bring the morning coffee, since they both arrive at the same time each day, him walking her to the car in the evenings, or their occasional dinner date. But it had always been friendly, a mutual attraction they both had unknowingly agreed to leave untouched.

Until his lips land on hers. Her hands push against his chest and she’s caught by surprise. He starts to pull away, to give her time to react, but she squeezes his thigh, signaling for him to continue.

“Are you sure?” he whispers in tight breaths.

“Mmhm,” she hums, lifting her other hand free to slide up his back, to caress the expanse and tightness of his form under his snug t-shirt.

His lips return to hers with more force, pushing her over on the couch and half sliding her underneath him while their lips and legs tangle together. One of his hands is on her right hip, moving from her ass to her lower thigh, squeezing her firmly through the rough denim, holding her close and keeping her from falling over the edge of the couch cushion. It’s barely wide enough for him, let alone her too. His other hand is next to her head, preventing him from putting all of his weight against her.

Both arms now free, she grapples to gain purchase on the hem of his shirt. Thalia wants to feel his tanned, warm skin under her fingers. The dark haired beauty almost giggles at the idea, unable to remember the last time she was with a man that wasn’t so fair he’d burn within minutes of being in the sun. Almost like dating someone frozen in ice, or a vampire… Shaking the thought away, she continues to pull at his shirt. She quickly yanks it over his head, surprised to find more tats on his arms and ribcage.

He grinds down against her, a sizeable weight pushing against her covered mound. “Slow down, darl, we’ve got all night.”

Thalia shifts the leg he’s holding up, wrapping it over his torso, making him moan when she digs her heel in his back just a little harder, adjusting their angle, pulling him closer to her. There’s a frenzy of movement on the soft leather couch, as the two rut against one another. His mouth is at her neck, then burrowing between her rounded globes, pushing out from the top of her bright pink sweater.

It’s fast and breathless, kissing him, touching him. Her hands trace the sinewy lines of muscles covering his back and shoulders, gripping him tight and using her feet to push him against her. It’s been so long, she wonders if she could come from just a heavy make out session on his couch. So damn long…

They’re both breathing heavy, a slight sweat along her hairline causing her hair to curl and frizz. The sweater is too confining, and the little kitten licks he gives along the lace trim of her bra are driving her crazy.

She pushes against him, gasping for air. “How ‘bout you show me the rest of the house, starting with the bedroom?”

Click to Chapter 4, Strong Shoulders

Copyright © 2019  avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Collection

ch 2 jan 6 2019

Collection

Chapter 2

Being Thalia

Collaboration by @avenger-nerd-mom &  @devikafernando

AU FICTION

It’s TRUE! @devikafernando and @avenger-nerd-mom are posting a SEQUEL for Educating Thalia, involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans! In Being Thalia, the two rivals are still vying for their right to claim the lovely Thalia Bareo. The sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago is all grown up now, holding down a job, continuing her studies and freelancing as a consultant for museums around the world. Story updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Warning: As a whole, this work contains adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. Each chapter will not be coded with individual warnings. The overall story contains no hidden triggers.

Summary: Settling into a new, permanent role at the University, Thalia makes new friends and discovers her office comes with a nice view.

Word count: 2382

If you are new to the series and characters, click here to the beginning of Educating Thalia.

If you are looking for other stories in the sequel, click here for the beginning of Being Thalia

Images found on Pinterest

Previous Chapter

“Why are old lovers able to become friends? Two reasons:

They never truly loved each other, or they love each other still.”

Whitney Otto- How to Make an American Quilt

2018, Fall Semester

With the announcement after Fall mid-terms that Lin-Hu would not be returning from her maternity leave, the University offered Thalia a teaching position for the Spring semester, with classes in languages and history. She was given the former teacher’s office, larger than the closet sized cubicle she had been sharing with two grad students. Elated to have a permanent space in the history department to call home, she was having fun buying furniture and decorating, and getting ready to go home for the holidays.

“Stacey, if I’m gonna get outta here at a decent hour tonight, I need to get off the phone, and get more of these boxes unpacked,” she says, pushing up from where she had been sitting on the floor, sorting through a stack of books.

“Ok, mija, just let us know when you finalize your flight plans,” the quiet, motherly voice says over the phone. “You’re father is so excited, he’s already planning to pick you up at the airport and take you straight to Portillo’s.”

She laughs. “Papá does realize I won’t be home for, like, another six weeks, right? I can’t make it home for Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“I know, I keep telling him,” her voice drops. “Will you be joining Chris and his daughter for Thanksgiving?”

Thalia pinches her lips to hold in the sigh threatening to burst out. “Probably not. I think I’ll join some of the foreign exchange students and help them serve dinner at the shelter.”

Stacey is silent for a moment. “Thalia, are you okay, sweetheart?”

Tears sting at her eyes and she blinks them away just as quickly. “I will be. I’m getting there.” Thalia chuckles looking at the messy room and boxes still waiting to be unpacked. “I really gotta go. If I’m not home by dark, my landlord will start to wonder why I even bother paying rent if I’m never home.”

“You are never home! Isn’t that why you keep all your favorite things in your work space?”

“You know me too well, Mamá,” she replies.

She and her step-mother exchange goodbyes. Turning the radio up, she steps back and visualizes the plan for the empty shelves. A student stops by with questions about an essay assignment, and before she knows it, it’s almost time to call it a day. “One more shelf,” she says to nobody but herself.

Bent over an open box, Thalia reaches in, pulling out a few more things to add to the balance of travel knickknacks and books on the wooden shelving. She chuckles at the low whistle she hears, and the whispered, “Nice ass.” She licks her lip but pays no mind to the man across the hall. Still got it, she thinks to herself.

Humming along to the Latin music she plays, she tries not to dance to the beat, knowing he’s still watching her. He probably doesn’t even know he said it out loud, she muses, having seen him already slam his hand in the desk drawer accidentally and forever jamming up the copy machine. The pretty boy from Aussie is a bit flaky, a bit too blond for her tastes.

hems nice ass

Reaching up on the shelf, she wobbles on her heels and huffs in frustration.

“I can help with that?” he asks, much closer now.

Sure enough, he’s standing in her doorway, his arm stretched up, resting on the moulding above the door frame. She does her best not to respond on animal instinct, her mouth involuntarily watering at the sight of him. Taking in the sculpted abs under the tight sweater and the tat on his inner arm, she feels her cheeks flame, hoping her blush isn’t visible. It would have been almost comical if his shirt had lifted to show what she was sure to be a very happy treasure trail. She shakes her head, and laughs him off.

“Hemsworth, right? No thanks. I know how professors like you work.” She snags her toe around the leg of a small footstool and pulls it closer. “Stretching up to reach things on high bookshelves, or door jams,” she rolls her eyes, puckering her lips in accusation when he drops his arm, “to ‘innocently’ catch a girl’s eye? Not interested.”

Sirens buzz in her head, telling her to stay away and keep focused. Sneering at him when he plops down in her new leather chair, she steps up on the higher plateau, arranging the books as she envisioned. “Hand me those photos,” she says to him. “If I can’t get rid of you, you might as well be useful.”

“I can be useful in a lot of ways,” he pronounces slowly, winking at her. Shuffling through the frames on her desk, he comments. “Nice collection. Paris. London. New York. Disney? Quite well traveled…” He hands up the photos, smiling. “So are the rumors true?”

Thalia tilts her head, looking down on him. Her tongue runs over her teeth, and she makes a clucking sound. “Is that why you keep sniffing around?”

They’ve chatted before, occasionally sharing a lunch in the staff workroom, but she’s kept herself distant and guarded. No actions that could be viewed as anything more than professional courtesies.

“No, actually.” He leans forward, looking at the stack of papers on her desk, reaching for another photo frame. “Your parents?” She nods, giving no indication she wants to talk. “Nice family… You’re always such a nice woman,” he shrugs. “You have an easy laughter, you always smell like flowers, and the lunches you heat up every day always make my mouth water.” He stretches out in her chair, digging his heel into the rug and spinning slowly from left to right. “We’re neighbors now. I simply wanna get to know you.” He crosses his arms over his tight belly and twiddles his thumbs, the silver rings on his fingers drawing her eyes to the slight movement. “I don’t care whether or not you fucked your science professor as an undergrad.”

“Hmm,” she hums,, lingering over his words and turning back to arrange the photos. She’d heard all the stories, none of them actually hinting at the truth. “I can assure you, I did not have sex with my science professor.”

He quietly assesses her. “I’d like to spend time with you, figure out what that amazing scent is that you always carry. Can I take you to dinner?”

prof hems tat

Holy hell. He is hitting on me. “What? Why me?”

“I miss home.” He reaches for a pencil, tapping it against the edge of the desk. She looks down at him, skepticism written all over her face. “I’m tired of all the skinny, plastic girls, the ones that only want to talk makeup and reality TV stars. I like a woman with a little more…” His eyes stroke over her figure, undressing her in a way she hasn’t felt in ages. A small butterfly flaps its wings deep in her belly. “Charm and intelligence.”

“What a flattering way to word that,” she chuckles, running her hand over her hip and slapping her thigh.

His laughter explodes, warm and infectious. “Someone to throw over my shoulder,” He says, rising from the chair to aid her as she steps down.

“Nice shoulders,” she compliments, giving his strapping deltoid a tight squeeze. “Too blond for me, pal.” She laughs and winks. Spinning on the step stool to properly stand down, her feet tangle and she topples from the height. With quick reflexes, the handsome professor catches her in a basket hold and her arm grips around his shoulder. She gasps, the wind sucked out of her. “Nice shoulders,” she repeats as he gently sets her to the ground, holding her as close as he can without being too forward. His eyes dart down quickly for a peek at what her tight t-shirt reveals before taking a step back, gallantly blushing.

“Too blond, huh?” He laughs, running his hands through his hair. “Sure I can’t change your mind?”

His Aussie accent jumbles her brain, slightly drawled, very relaxed. Accents are my kink. She tries to hide her blush at the thought, shaking her head. “Chris, that’s really sweet, but I’m still getting over a relationship. I’m really not…not myself just yet. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone,” she explains, letting him down easy and ushering him to the hall. Her heart thumps against her chest as a familiar plaid shirt rounds the corner at the end of the hallway, disappearing from view.

Hemsworth squeezes her forearm. “Sorry to hear that, darl. But I am somewhat lonely for company.” He tilts his head and his bright white smile beams down at her- “Jesus, you’re tall!” she mutters and he chuckles softly. “I promise I won’t bite, so the offer for dinner still stands, any time.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” she mumbles stepping back into her office. Placing her hand on the door, she laughs. “I know you’re still gonna sit at your desk and watch my ass, so I’m just gonna close the door.”

She waves the tips of her fingers and places a divide between them. Sinking back against the door, she hits her head against the solid wood. “How many professors you need in that collection, Chica?” she scoffs before pushing off the surface. Grabbing her purse from the bottom drawer, she reaches across the desk to turn off the lamp. Lifting a stuffed file, she tucks it under her arm, exiting the room quickly and locking the door behind her.

Thalia jogs down the hall, slowing before reaching the doorway to the staff workroom. Entering the shared space, she acts surprised to see Professor Evans leaning against the counter, eating a bowl of cereal. “Hey,” she says, nonchalantly, opening the fridge for a chilled bottle of water and her lunch bag. With her other hand, she waves the folder to him. “I finished the research. Wanna go get a table downstairs, spread it out and work on it?”

He chuckles at her word choice and she slams the folder against his chest. “Childish fucker,” she laughs, shaking her head.

“I didn’t say anything,” Chris laughs, turning on the water to wash out his bowl. “Can’t do it tonight, I’ve got to get Avery after dance.” He shakes off the excess water and lays the bowl in the drainboard to dry. “So… You and the Ken doll?”

She didn’t miss the jealous tone in his teasing words and her Latina blood starts to simmer. “Shit, I knew it. Are you fuckin’ spying on me? We said we were gonna live our lives separately. You have no right to-”

“Another professor though? Norse mythology? Really? Even the British arse would laugh at that. Maybe I should give him a call, let him lecture you about the pitfalls of dating professors. You always seemed to listen to him more than-”

Her eyes blaze as she cuts him off. “He wouldn’t fuckin’ care. His opinion has no basis on anything I do anymore and I couldn’t-” Her strength wilts in an instant and her eyes well with tears. “Fuck off, Evans,” she sputters, storming from the room.

She doesn’t turn when he calls after her and she tries to hold back her crying. He catches up quickly and reaches for the strap on her bag, stopping her. “I’m sorry, Thal, I didn’t know.” She angrily pushes away the tears, her arm caught between them as he wraps her in a hug. “He still didn’t call? Damn, I figured you’d patched things up by now.”

Thalia swallows hard, trying not to choke on her words. “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter. I just… I’m tired. I need a new life, to forget everything-”

“-But that guy? He’s… I don’t know? He doesn’t seem like your type at all, other than being a professor.”

She pushes away from his grasp. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up, but eat shit, Evans. You don’t have any say in my life now either.”

Rushing down the stairs, she gasps for breaths, trying to quell her battered heart. Working on a friendship with an ex-lover is just too damn tough, he always thinks he can have a say in what I do. I’ll damn well do what I want, she thinks, sighing heavily. Leaving the back stairwell, she pushes out onto the sidewalk in the late fall sunshine. I’m done letting them control my life, as if they still own me. I’m my own person, dammit!

Walking to her car, she tucks her water bottle under her arm as she roots through her purse for her keys.

“Side pocket,” a voice calls out.

She spins around, to see Hemsworth straddling a motorcycle, pointing to her. She reaches for her coat pocket, and sure enough, the lanyard is hanging out, her keys tucked safely inside. “Nice ride,” she says, holding up her keys as a silent ‘thanks.’

“Wanna take a spin?” He tilts his head. “You look like you need to escape. You all right?”

Pursing her lips, she shakes her head no. Swallowing hard, she pushes back her fears. “Sounds good actually. You still up for dinner? Drowning myself in pasta sounds good right about now.”

“Put your bag in the car, and tie up that wild mane of yours.”

She does as she’s told and jogs back quickly to his set up. Hemsworth has opened a storage compartment and pulled out a second helmet. Handing it to her, he asks, “Ridden before?”

“Been a while, but I think I can remember.” She takes the helmet and pushes back fly away hairs from her face.

“Hold tight and lean when I lean; squeeze with your knees.”

“Got it,” she says, putting on the helmet and watching him lift his thick thigh over the seat of the bike. Pulling the protective gear over her head, she climbs behind him, sliding forward on the worn leather seat and wrapping her arms around his fit waist. She can feel his tight abs under his soft sweater and a decidedly masculine scent fills her nose.

As they pull out of the parking lot, the side door opens again and Professor Evans exits the building. She lets go and gives a little wave as they literally ride off into the sunset.

Click here for Chapter 3, Attraction

Copyright © 2019  avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Snapshots

Snapshots October 28 2016.jpg

Snapshots

An Emery & Chris story

By avenger-nerd-mom

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

Warnings: Language, FLUFF

Word Count: 5355

December 10, 2016

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

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

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

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

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

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

beer-bar-use-this

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

cap-boot-use-this

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

“It’s you… That’s you on the piano?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sweet-couple-dancing-use

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

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

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

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

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

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

flower-girls-use

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Evans

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Other snapshots from the big event

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This story concludes the second series for Emery and Chris!

Watch for two scheduled follow up stories in the future!

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

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

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

All photos were found on Pinterest.

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

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