Labor of Love

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Labor of Love

*an Emery&Chris fan fiction*

By avenger-nerd-mom

Word Count:  2363

Summary: Chris and Emery finally welcome their new little one into the world.

April 2019

Walking back to his trailer, Chris fumbles for his phone, nearly dropping it in the bright sun. He squints at the screen, wishing he had his sunglasses with him. The sunlight is deceiving- it’s not as warm as it appears. But since the weekend is supposed to be warmer, he promised his nephews a day at the park Saturday. Watching them play soccer. He chuckles, remembering all the “hot soccer Dad” comments Emery told him about after the weekend press conference.

“Call Emery,” he speaks softly into the phone, waving at a group of fans standing across the street. His handler opens the trailer and he steps inside, flopping in the seat closest to the door. He waits to see her face, surprised when she simply answers as a call, rather than a video chat.

“Hey, Jellybean!” Emery weakly exclaims. “You about done on set today?”

Chris reaches for the call sheet on the other end of the couch. Glancing over it, he replies, “Yeah, about another hour or two. They wanna reshoot one scene, but it shouldn’t take long-”
“Was that an actual ice cream shop, or a set? You know I want ice cream.”

“Fuckin’ internet… You’ve already seen fan photos, haven’t you?” Chris chuckles. “Yes, it was a real store.” Ice cream has been one of her pregnancy cravings, along with steak and Capn’ Crunch Peanut Butter cereal.  He can’t keep track of her favorites from week to week. Hell, it’s probably changed in the few days while I was gone to LA for Endgame promo. “What do you want me to bring home?”

“Something with toffee, and pecans.” She says the word in her funny little Southern drawl, ‘pea-CANS.’ “Buttery, vanilla, not chocolate. But, babe, don’t bring it home.” She clears her throat. Stronger, she tells him, “I need you to bring it to the hospital.”

Chris sits up tall, dropping both feet to the floor, ready to jump up in action. “Hospital! Emery, are you in labor? Why didn’t you call me!”

“You’re a nervous Nelly. And I knew you were looking forward to today’s shoot. Labor’s gonna take forever. The only thing you’ve missed so far is me throwing up, more than once, and sleeping.” She yawns, making a little puffing sound. “Real exciting stuff.”

Dammit, she would keep it to herself, not to worry me… Throwing open the trailer door, he waves the closest staffer over. Holding the phone between his ear and shoulder, he grabs the man’s clipboard and scribbles, ‘Labor. Leaving. Top Secret.’ Pushing the board back to the shocked man, he lunges for his keys on the counter, exiting the trailer in two large steps and slamming the door behind him. “Tell me everything,” he growls into the phone.

There’s a pause, and he can’t hear her over the sound of the crowd yelling at him. “Chris, relax. If you rush outta there like a mad man, it’ll be all over the Internet before you can even get here. I don’t want fans or press showing up here. We talked about that. Call me back when you get to the car. I promise, you’re not gonna miss the birth of our baby.”

She sounds tired, worn out. “Em? Is everything okay?”

“Just get here.”

The phone line goes silent. Staring at the phone, he can’t believe she hung up on him. Or called him a ‘nervous Nelly.’ What even is that Southernism? He shakes his head, and makes a beeline to another staffer, trying to remember his plan of attack if this situation came about this way. Quickly explaining his predicament, he asks the man to get the ice cream, telling him to come find the unmarked sedan on the back of the lot. Chris smiles wryly at the man’s confused expression as he turns towards the car that’s been provided to get him to and from set with little recognition.

As the man jogs away, one of the executive producers walks up to Chris, pointing him in the opposite direction. “I heard. Congratulations,” he offers, clapping his hand on Chris’s shoulder. “Tabby’s gonna drive you. That’ll help you pull yourself together. I’ll send John over with the ice cream.” He speaks into his walkie talkie, relaying a new delivery point for the pint. “You can get outta here in just a few minutes. She doin’ okay?”

Chris shrugs his shoulders, his face expressing his unease. “No clue. She hung up. I’m guessing Ma is with her, but no one told me anything. That’s pretty fucked up,” he mumbles.

“Man, relax, women been havin’ babies for centuries. At least it’s early, and you’re not on another continent…” Chris bows his head, realizing how lucky he is for this small favor. “Call me with the news, and we can shift some schedules around. Take the family time you need.” He pats Chris on the back, passing him off to Tabby, the set intern.

“Family,” Chris sighs, his heart swelling with pride.

***

Settled in the back of the car, ice cream rested next to his thigh, Chris calls Emery again.

His mother in law answers the call. “She’s sleeping, Chris. The medicines make her fall asleep at the drop of a hat, mid-sentence. Want me to wake her?”

“Anita, just tell me. What’s wrong? I’m trying to get there as fast as I can.” He calculates quickly. “Traffic, this time of day, I can make it over there in about thirty minutes.”

“Believe me, son. You’ve got time. This little one is gonna be just as stubborn as it’s Daddy. Baby E doesn’t wanna say hello just yet.”

He nervously wipes his beard, watching out the front window as the driver maneuvers around traffic.

“Chris, she’s okay. Her amniotic fluid started to leak while we were on our morning walk. She wasn’t really having contractions or anything, but we decided to call Dr. Puckett. She was already at the hospital and told us to come in.” She breathes out slowly. “Emery’s having contractions, small but not enough to move the delivery along. Because of all the troubles she’s had, the medical team decided to give her Pitocin to speed things up, not put any more stress on her body.” His mother in law sighs. “She’s strong, honey. She’s gonna be okay. The medicines made her sick, but she’s walked around some-

“Why didn’t anyone call?” He swallows hard, trying to hold back his irritation.

“You know her, she wouldn’t let us. Said you were working, and Dr. Puckett said things were going to be slow. She begged your mom and I not to call you-

“Let me talk to Ma,” he barks, hitting his head back against the seat.

His mom’s soothing voice immediately calms him. “Chris, sweetheart. Everyone’s fine. She wanted you to work. The doc agreed it was gonna be several hours. You’re gonna be here. Baby E will be a week or two early, but healthy, and it’ll give you something to talk about on the the press tour besides spilling Marvel secrets.” There’s noise and a low moaning, almost a whimper. He taps the back of the driver’s seat and motions to drive faster. When his mother speaks again, she tells him. “The doc just came in here now, and it looks like they’re gonna attach a monitor around her belly. She’s waking up and you’ll be able to see her when you get here.”

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With only the sack of ice cream in his hand, he jogs down the long hallway. He tips his hat low to avoid recognition. Other new fathers carry flowers or stuffed animals, and somewhere down the hallway, a small baby cries. Normally the activity in the maternity wing would make him smile, but today he can only focus on one thing. His wife.

His love. His life. His whole world.

Nearing the room, he spies Dr. Puckett ahead, looking over a patient chart with another nurse. He stands back, leaning against the wall, clearing his throat and waiting for her attention. She lifts her head at the sound, smiling. With a small, delicate motion of her hand, she waves him over. “Chris, good to see you.” She shakes his hand, and nods to the nurse at her side. “This is Amber, she’s the best. She’s been with Emery all day, and plans to stay through, all right?” He nods. “Have you seen her yet?”

Crumpling the bag tighter in his hand, he shakes his head no.

“She looks a little pale, but she’s tough. Her body isn’t responding to the Pitocin, and she’s only dilated about four centimeters. With the amniotic fluid leaking, she does run a risk of infection-”

“Doc, is she going to be okay? I don’t wanna be an ass, but we can make another baby or adopt, but God help me, if anything happens to her-”

Placing her hand on Chris’s arm, Dr. Jamie Puckett’s exhaustion shows on her face. “Emery is fine, I promise, but the baby’s heart rate is dropping. The nurses are going to come in soon, and prep her for a C-section. I know that wasn’t really the plan, but in order to keep baby and Mom safe, I think it’s best.”

“Does she know yet?” Chris asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

The doctor shakes her head. “No, I was waiting till you arrived. Why don’t you go see her for a few minutes, and then I’ll be in and we’ll go get Baby E. You’ll be holding your baby within the next few hours.”

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Chris stirs from his chair as the nurse comes in, the morning rounds just beginning.

“Sorry to wake you,” she whispers.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he stands, his old bones creaking. Shit, maybe I’m too old for this Dad stuff, he thinks. “Didn’t get much rest.” The gravel in his voice is proof. He’d spent the night watching his wife and their tiny little one sleeping.

He needs coffee, in an IV, stat.

Memories of the night before flash through his mind, like a movie montage, nothing settled in place to seem real yet. The quiet afternoon, watching her sleep. Her strength and string of expletives when the epidural was administered. The rush to the operating room as both Emery’s and baby’s heart rates dropped. Suiting up in his new favorite uniform. Standing helpless, not wanting to see on the other side of the curtain. Holding their baby for the first time. Calling the mothers in for their first peek. The first attempt at breastfeeding.

The nurse checks some readings on the monitors, making notes in her charts. She quietly addresses Chris. “The pediatrician will be in soon, to check over the baby, and the lactation specialist. When your wife wakes-”

“I’m up,” says a sleepy voice. “Bring me my baby. And coffee. Can I have coffee? Like in an IV. Just inject it into my veins.”

Chris’s laughter draws her attention. He can see her struggle to turn to him. The drugs are still in her system, making all her movements sluggish.

“Hey, sexy Daddy. You thought the same thing, didn’t you?”

With tears in his eyes, he leans over and caresses his lips over her forehead. “You are mine, you know that, right?” The strong actor chuckles, weak in the knees. “You were made for me.”

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Grabbing the collar of his t-shirt, she pulls him close, tenderly kissing his plump, inviting mouth. “Yeah, and together we made something special, a baby. Ours-” She kisses him again. “I want it, and I want coffee.”

The nurse giggles, “Now, Miss Emery,” she says calmly, like talking to a petulant child. “We talked about that yesterday. No coffee yet, not if you’re going to breastfeed.” She smirks at Emery’s huffing. “But you can take a sip or two of his.” She tilts her head to Chris, as he gently climbs into the hospital bed next to his wife.

“Fine. Bring him one. A big one. Thank you,” she says as a second thought, remembering her manners. The nurse drops the chart in the holder by the door. “Oh, can you get me a cheeseburger?” Emery calls out as the nurse leaves the room.

“Babe, it’s barely eight am.” Chris teases, cautiously lifting her upper body from the bed to tuck her to his side, his arm resting gently around her shoulders.

“Don’t care.” She scratches her cheek absently. The skin is swollen and red from an allergic reaction to the mask placed over her face during her surgery. “I had a baby last night. I want what I want.”

Sitting on the bed next to her, his exhausted, amazing wife settles against his chest. He breathes deeply, inhaling her scent, and he feels his world fall into place.

“I’m gonna be hearing about that for months, years, aren’t I?”

She pokes him in the ribs. “Big enough they had to cut it out. You made a tiny monster.” She giggles, loopy from medications. She rubs low across her belly, wincing as her hands near the bandages covering the incision. “Almost seven pounds. How was that even inside me? How is that even possible? No wonder complete strangers stopped to ask if I was having twins!”

“You know,” he says, twisting her fingers into his hand and raising them to kiss the back of her fingertips, careful not to bump her IV, “it’s not an ‘it’ now.”

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“‘It’ has Daddy’s eyelashes.”

He chuckles, kissing the top of her head. “‘It’ has Mommy’s red hair.”

Before they can finish their verbal tease, she falls back to sleep peacefully. He continues to sooth his fingers through her hair, enjoying their last few minutes alone.

“Love you, forever, Em.” Squeezing her tightly, he lays back against the pillow, hoping to get some more rest of his own.

after baby cuddle

With the little bundle snuggled in his arms, wrapped tightly in a Captain America blanket, Chris steps into the lounge, full of family and friends. “Hey, everyone,” he says with enough authority to garner everyone’s attention, but not to wake the baby. “Thought you’d wanna meet Kaileigh Grace Evans.”

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Author’s Note: Remember in Surprises Ahead? Emery tells Chris, “Read it with a Southern accent. The first syllable? Rhymes with ‘thai.”

**Images found on Pinterest**

Story will update when Muse strikes. I actually wrote a baby story 3+ years ago, but in the vision I wrote from, I didn’t know the baby’s name or gender. In February 2019, the name just popped in my head one morning while I was in the shower! Until that moment, I had no idea if it was going to be a little boy or girl for the Evans’!

If you want to know more about Emery and Chris, read the novella Georgia on My Mind, and their additional stories

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

 

A Fine Gentleman

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A Fine Gentleman

an Emery&Chris fanfic

by avenger-nerd-mom

Word Count: 4632

Warning: LEMON- oral sex, fingering, adult content, jealousy, pregnancy, language

Summary: Tired and worn out, Chris and Emery still manage to enjoy their limo ride after the Oscars.

*special thanks to TheWife101 for the photo edit*

Click here to read the first part of this story, Surprises Ahead

February 2019

The flash of lights blind and shouts echo in Emery’s ears. Fortunately the walk out after the awards show is shorter than the red carpet walk going into the Dolby Theater. Emery moves along quickly, not stopping to sign autographs or pose for quick selfies as her handsome husband ushers her along with speed. When the limo comes into view, she wobbles on her low sling-back heels, unable to hide her smile. She tugs the sleeve of Chris’s form fitting tux, and points. “Is that Henry?”  

Chris can’t hide his smile either. “You surprised?” He waves to the crowd, and they turn, allowing assembled press to snap a few more candid photos. Putting his hand on the small of her back, he gently pushes her forward. “Your chariot awaits.”

“Don’t we have to attend any after parties?” She asks, turning to wave at the group of adoring fans.

“Oh, I’m sure the studio execs won’t be happy, but I told them we had safety concerns, you needed rest and since I worked so hard,” he rolls his eyes, joking that presenting was a challenge. “I’d rather get away and relax instead. You need outta those shoes.”  

Looping her arm in his, she continues towards the car, patting the arm of his velvet suit. “Thanks. I appreciate when you get all ‘Papa Bear’ and watch over us.” Her free hand curves under her protruding belly. “You’re gonna make a great dad.”

“I hope so, Kitten,” he sighs, a hint of uncertainty and exhaustion in his voice.

The crowd is so loud, no one can hear their private conversation. Henry, Chris’s driver for events in LA, steps forward to take over protection as she turns and blows kisses to the crowd, shouting her appreciation and love as well to all his fans as he waves in return. Chris opens the car door and settles her in as Henry walks around the front of the car, readying the door for Chris. When her door closes, she kicks off her heels before settling the dress around her.

“Hey, beautiful.” Chris’s smooth baritone fills the car, warm and calm as the door closes, shutting out the roaring crowd.

“Hey, handsome!” As though it’s been hours, not mere seconds since they were last together. “Look at you, in a tux! You always get so dressed up to go pick up your dates?” She playfully tugs on his tie, unraveling it before letting it fall against his chest. Chris wraps his arms around her, finally relaxing in her hold.

He pulls back and his blue eyes wash over her face, and in the passing light of other cars, she can see his love. He caresses her red hair back, tangling his fingers in the cascade of curls over her shoulder. “Red,” he scoffs, before his lips tenderly land on hers. “Who’d have thought I’d fall for a redhead.” Having been apart for weeks, and still catching up the last few days together, the kisses increase with intensity quickly and a quiet moan escapes her lips as his hand glides down her exposed thigh and back up. Emery grips the lapels of his jacket, pushing him back against the seat as the limo speeds down the highway to their destination, wherever that might be.

“I missed you,” she breathes heavily.

He chuckles, “You saw me this morning.”

“It was too long ago,” she whispers. Her hand slides down from his neck and edges along the line of shiny buttons of his pressed shirt, following down to the waist of his pants.

“I missed you too,” he moans quietly against her ear.

“Show me,” she whispers, feeling bold behind the tinted window. She pushes him back, rising up on the leather seat, dropping one bare foot to the space between his legs. Her hand curves over his covered cock and he thrusts against her palm.  

With one hand, Chris holds her hip to help balance her round belly, while the other hand glides around the back of her leg. He squeezes and cups her ass, her cheeks barely covered by the skimpy little satin undies under the designer gown. “You feel good,” he whispers against her throat, his mouth igniting small fires all across her flesh.

His beard causes a light burn to her skin but she doesn’t care, as she continues to caress him through his pants. She’s missed him, missed his touch and wants him to know she needs him badly. She lowers her body, her lips back to his while he continues to run his fingers over her ass and down the space between her legs.

“You’re so warm,” he growls between kisses. “I bet you’re hot and wet.” His fingers nimbly shove the fabric to the side. Seeking permission, he asks, “Can I see?”

“God, yes,” she pants, wanting to feel his touch.

Chris slowly dips his longest finger inside her, and is met with an already pooling wetness, caused simply by being near him. She can hear his sigh and a change in his breathing as well. “So perfect,” he barely breathes out against my ear.

“Shh… Shut up,” she responds, shaking her head back, her body already quaking in his arms. “You talk too much.”

He chuckles again. He shifts on the seat so his arm can have more freedom to move under her flowing dress. And he uses that to his advantage, slowly sliding deep in and out, avoiding her clit. He pulls the wet up with a hooked finger and slides it over her outer lips, pushing against them, tugging at her skin. “I want you so bad…” The wide span of his large hand allows his other fingers to caress against her thighs at the same time. A jolt washes through her, and she chokes back a groan. Her head drops forward, resting on his shoulder and he breathes against her neck, whispering sweet words of affection and temptation.

He varies the rhythm with which he enters and pulls out, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, sometimes gentle, sometimes rough. Pulling all the way out, he slaps her ass and she finally releases a guttural moan. He shifts them on the leather seat as the city lights flash in the window, laying her back. Chris pulls her dress higher up on her waist, exposing her rounded pregnant belly and opening her to him. He rests his thigh between her open legs, changing positions to enter even deeper as he slides in a second finger. His digits remain deep as they continue to penetrate her, scissoring back and forth.  

Emery grabs the sleeve of his jacket, gripping his arm as she bucks against his hand. His touch and the friction of the satin panties against her tender lips has her writhing beneath him. She never takes her eyes from his face, watching the range of emotions cross his visage. Looks of love and lust as he gives to her.

She feels herself dripping around him, worrying the designer gown might be getting wet. She naturally squeezes her walls on his fingers and he begins to grind his palm against her mound. His other hand cradles the back of her neck as she thrusts up, aching to finish. A small squeak escapes from her lips and he murmurs, “Come for me, sweetheart, don’t hold back.”

His deep, smoky voice adds to her need to release. A few more thrusts, along with his other fingers squeezing her outer lips, and she lifts up for one final push against his palm. Her orgasm breaks and she squeezes him tightly as she comes all over his hand. He slows up his movements, matching her breathing as she comes back down, slowly sliding his hand out and repositioning her now dripping panties. He gently rubs his palm over her covered mound.  

“Beautiful; simply beautiful,” he murmurs, picking her up and placing her in his lap. “Hey, hey, are you okay?”

Tears well in her eyes and she shakes her head, giggling. “Yea, fucking fantastic… That was just…,” she nuzzles in tight against his neck, holding him close as he caresses his hands over her still quaking body. “Exactly what I needed.” She kisses his neck tenderly, reaching up to wipe away the pooled tears. “Stupid pregnancy hormones. Oh, honey, I’ve missed you so much… Thank you.”

“Well you don’t have to thank-”

“Excuse me,” a voice comes in through the speakers. Emery blushes and hides her face in his blue velvet coat.

Chris eyes her with concern and replies, “What’s up, Henry?”

“Boss, just wanted to let you know we’re about fifteen minutes from our destination. Is she hungry?”

“Always,” Emery mumbles. “Burgers would be great!” She yells through the intercom.

Chris holds her close, hiding his smile in her hair. “Thanks, Henry.”

Righting them on the back seat again, he lifts her chin, reading the expression on her face. “He couldn’t hear us; you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

Emery slides off his lap and reaches for napkins from the mini-bar. Stuffing them under her dress, he helps her delicately clean between her legs. “I know… It’s,” she sighs.  “Any of our assistants always know what’s going on, so it’s logical for him to think-”

“Yea, he’s gonna think that we did something. I’m in the backseat of a limo, after an awards show, with the hottest lady in town.” She frowns and he covers her hand with his, running his thumb over the sparkling diamond on her finger before giving a gentle squeeze. “He can think whatever the fuck he wants, but we’re the only ones that have to know…” Chris opens the mini fridge, and twisting the top off a beer, takes a drink before reaching in to offer a bottle of water to her. He looks down into her sweet face. “I make no apologies for how I feel about you, and for wanting to show you how much I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Chris.” She scratches the scruff on his chin. “You’re right. It shouldn’t matter what we do. What matters is that it’s right for us, what we want.”

Putting his arm around her neck and tucking her back to his side, he sighs. “Besides, we’re married,” he chuckles, resting his hand on her plump belly.

She sighs happily, snuggling into his chest and reaching her arm under his coat to rest her hand on his waist. “Best decision I ever made,” she giggles.

He laughs, kissing the top of her head. “Are you sure? The other day you told me you weren’t even sure you liked me.” He teases, reminding her of their discussion about surprises,  caressing down the back of her arm. His tone drops. “And I saw you talking to Momoa.”

Emery chuckles. “Christopher Evans, are you seriously jealous?”

“You had your hands all up his pink velvet jacket, and he was rubbing your pregnant belly!” Chris practically shouts.

“God, that man is like a solid brick wall, I swear.” She can hardly bite back her laughter.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Indignance rings through his voice.

Emery blanches at the reference. “Ew, stop.” She swallows hard, just the words making her feel ill. “Chris, he saw I wasn’t feeling well and was just being friendly. He was telling me about how Lisa dealt with her morning sickness, and he gave me a peppermint he had in his pocket. I swear,” she crosses her fingers over her heart, “you are the only superhero for me.”

He’s still grumbling and complaining moments later, when the car comes to a stop and they lurch forward. Henry’s voice comes back through the intercom. “After I deliver you two, I’ll drive back out and get some food.”

“Don’t worry about it, Henry. We’ll order in. Thanks for getting us here safe, man. I can always count on you.” Chris reaches up to click off the intercom. “You know I’m not done with you tonight. Flirting with other men, DC men? You deserve to be punished for that…” He wiggles his eyebrow, laughing and shaking his head.

“I flirted with Rudd too, but that’s a given.” She smirks.

Chris playfully pinches her arm.

“What?” She rubs the spot on her arm. “You were looking at JLo’s ass. You can’t even deny that. Shit, you could bounce a quarter off it.” She awkwardly twists on the bench seat. “Think my ass will ever be tight again?”

Squeezing her back side, he says, “I have no complaints about your ass.” He shakes his head and points to the dark window in front of them, silently indicating to the driver. “If we order delivery, we don’t actually have to see anyone we know for a few days.”

Emery leans back against the seat. “I like the idea of being alone, just us. In another few months, we won’t have a lot of time for that.” She tilts her head, looking out the tinted windows to their location. “Where exactly have you whisked me away this time?”

Chris hands her the shoes, tangled at his feet. “Stay in the car till I come around; you’ll see.”

He exits the car and she takes another drink of her water, giggling at his jealousy. Like he has any worries. She’s not going anywhere, perfectly content with her crazy, happy life.

Muffled through the closed vehicle, she hears Chris talking to Henry, but can’t make out the words. She jumps when he places his hand on the window. “You’ve looked it all over, it’s safe, now go the hell away. I know you’re just watching out for us, but we don’t need chaperones,” he laughs, opening the door for her. “Emery?” He reaches his hand in, and she takes it, as he helps her gracefully out of the limo.

Chris laughs, his breath warm on his neck, holding her close as Henry drives away.

“Chris, what is this place? It’s beautiful.”

The secluded house sits behind a line of trees, a small Spanish- style stucco ranch. In the distance, Emery can hear waves crashing along the shore. The heavenly aroma of hibiscus blooms reach her nose, hanging from the pergola over the front entry. Bright lights shine behind the stained-glass front doors, but the rest of the house is dark.

“It’s ours for the next few days. A friend of mine, he’s out filming on location and he’s never here; he’s letting us use it.” He takes her hand, leading her up to the front porch. “I feel like this should be more dramatic, like I should carry you in, or something.”

She blushes, running her hand over her pregnant belly. “It’s okay, Chris, really. I wouldn’t want you to trip and drop us, or something.”

She follows him up the front steps, leaning on his shoulder as he opens the door and welcomes her in. The foyer is grand, with a large display of fresh flowers and her suitcases and his bags next to a set of winding stairs leading to the upper level. He dips his head, “Hey, I didn’t really get a chance to admire you in that dress… Turn so I can see you.”

She follows his direction and the train of the dress wraps around her feet. Slightly dizzy from the dramatic turn, she rests her palm on the marble table to balance herself. “Not my favorite part of the job,” she admits. “Actor’s wife. Getting all dressed up, like a child’s doll. This is-”

“Amazing. Stunning. Perfection.” Chris finishes her sentence. Taking his phone from an inner pocket on his suit coat, he reaches up and snaps a photo of the two of them together.

Emery giggles. “Yea. I can’t just pull it off. That’s gonna take a few minutes. Actually,” she looks down the front of her dress, “I’m taped and pinned in this thing. It’s not as sexy as you’d think.”

“Then we think very differently, cause you look sexy as hell.” In a quick motion, he moves in front of her, his warm, calloused hands reaching under the edges of the plunging v-neck gown. Sliding up, his thumbs press against her breast bone as his fingertips work their way under the moss green chiffon dress. The color looks amazing with her hair and the gauzy design looks something like a Roman Goddess would wear. His goddess. When his hands glide over her swollen breasts, her breath catches and he stops to circle his palms, her nipples pebbling under his command. His eyes follow his movement while she watches his hands, the veins in his wrists, her skin tightening into goosebumps when his cold cufflinks drag across her skin. His hands continue their worshipping ascent, pushing the cloth back as he nears her throat.

Exposed, her nipples harden in the cool air, tingling and tight, wanting more of his touch. Wanting his mouth. She wants his beautiful, lush lips on her, sucking her. “Chris, I-”

“Shhh…” He slowly pushes the straps down her shoulders, letting it fall from her arms. “Let me admire you…”

He steps forward, reaching around behind her back to find the small zipper between her shoulder blades. Her pregnant belly makes the reach further around than usual, but his lush velvet jacket pushes against her exposed breasts and she gasps. Pulling her arms free from her dress, she slides her hands between them, struggling with the buttons on his tuxedo coat. He leans closer, trapping her hands between them and whispers in her ear. “There’s time for that later. No rush, my dear, my sweet Kitten.”

Slowly, painfully, his hands slide the zipper down the back of her dress. As it opens over her rounded ass, it finally falls to the ground. Free of her confines, and save for the skimpy satin underwear, she stands before him, completely naked.

Chris steps back and sucks in his breath. “So beautiful… and all mine.” His hand wraps around her wrist, pulling her to him, stepping over the discarded gown. He looks down to the pile of green organza at their feet. “Stunning, but this is the way you should always be… naked.” He cocks his head, furrowing his brow. “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than you do right now, Em. Pregnancy is a good look for you.” He steps closer. He reaches his hands through her fiery red hair, tangling his fingers in the loose romantic coiff of curls and small plaits, pulling out pins and tossing them to the floor. She reaches up to help, but the look he shoots stops her. “So many pins,” he chuckles quietly, turning her around and bowing her head forward to unpin the back of her hair. She smiles, feeling it cascade down her back, tickling her shoulders. With her eyes raised, she watches them in a mirror across the entryway. She looks small and submissive next to his striking form, regal and gallant in his tux. Arranging the curls down her back, his hands brush over her skin, and she can see the wicked smile on his face, reflected in the mirror. He looks up and their eyes meet. “There she is… My girl. My Emery.” Possession. Pride.

He lifts her arm, twisting it to kiss the freckles on her shoulder. He runs his hand down her arm, pulling the Harry Winston bracelet off and tossing it on the table with a clink. “What’s that little smile on your face? You look like the cat who licked the cream.”

“Not yet,” she blushes, giggling and dropping her head. His eyes pop and he laughs as she’s embarrassed. “Shit; did I say that? Oh, God.” She rubs her forehead.

“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” he says wickedly.

She giggles, turning to face him, helping him to remove his cufflinks, and he tosses them, along with his watch, on the table as well.

He licks his lips before capturing her pretty mouth. Emery moans at his onslaught, loving the taste of the beer that clings to his tongue. She can feel his lips curve to a smug smile at her reaction. She tries to catch his bottom lip, but he keeps pulling away from her, teasing her. Instead, he captures hers, tugging and pulling it between his teeth, flicking his tongue across the tender flesh. He attacks her with his lips, teeth and tongue, using his hand to hold her sweet face in place. “I love the little moans and whines you make… Can you feel what you do to me?”

Emery sighs, murmuring against his mouth, his clothed cock hard against her thigh. His mouth continues to claim hers as his hands roam down her sides, caressing her heavy belly, reaching between her thighs. She instinctively moves her legs apart for Chris to better reach her inner folds. He drags his finger back and forth over the wet silk covering her mound. Gripping the elastic, he gives a little tug, jostling her against him. The brush of her bare breasts against the velvet lapels of his suit increases her desire, each touch feeding her fire. She pushes into him, wanting his caress. She’s already dripping, still wet from their play in the limo. She gasps when he pushes the fabric aside, sliding his finger into her sweet hole. He holds her up tightly with his other hand when her knees collapse. “Chris, please,” she moans. “I can’t… I can’t support myself.”

He chuckles, his breath hot in her hair as he whispers, “I’ve got you,” before nibbling at her earlobe.

“Take me to bed,” Emery whines. “I need you, I need this.”

“No rush, love,” he repeats, watching their reflection in the mirror.  

She can see little marks forming along her neck, from the repeated bitings she’s received, and watches Chris’s hand disappear inside her silk panties. His eyes connect with hers in their reflection and she sees the look of triumph cross his face as he slips in another finger, sinking deep inside her. He pumps in and out slowly, then rough, then slow again, his mouth biting at her shoulder. His other hand grasps her breast and rolls her taut nipple between his calloused fingers. “Oh, fuck, Chris. That’s it, that’s-”

She can’t finish her thoughts as the wave of another orgasm starts to pulse through her body and he pulls away from her.

“Chris!” she whimpers. “Don’t stop!”

He laughs, the sound echoing in the dark, empty foyer as he drops to his knees, pushing her against the marble table. Yanking her panties down her legs, Chris burrows his tongue into the spot recently vacated by his fingers and rapidly laps up her juice, fucking her with his mouth. His beard burns against her tender skin. Her cries and mewling increase as she pulls at his hair.

She looks down to her favorite sight. Chris Evans, her husband, on his knees, just for her. His hands grab her ass and guide her closer to him. Just a few quick flicks with his skilled muscle and she breaks, coming on his tongue, filling his mouth. Chris moans against her, his vibrations completing her. He slows, gently bathing her with his tongue now, as she slowly floats back to reality, sinking down into his waiting arms.

“Chris,” she sighs, sated and exhausted, “are you planning to kill me before we even get to the bedroom?”

Chuckling, he wraps his arm around her back and lifts behind her knees, “We’re just getting started,” he promises.

She curls her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. “Don’t wear me out before we even begin,” she warns.

Even with her added baby weight, Chris scales the stairs quickly and confidently, flicking on the hall light at the top of the steps. He walks down the hall, peeking in various rooms.

She lifts her head and looks at him. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

“Shhh…” He bites her shoulder playfully. His tone teases, “I try to make this big, romantic gesture, and you’re making jokes.”

She kisses his cheek. “Would you have me any other way?”

“Perfect, just the way you are…” He finds the room he was searching for, and reaches in, turning on the lights. A muted glow fills in behind him as she kicks out her foot, stopping him from going through the door.

“Chris?” She breathes out slowly. “You’re overdressed for the occasion. Can you put me down please?”

Kissing her forehead, he complies with her request, sliding her body down against his. “Are you planning to remedy that?”

Reaching for the buttons on his coat, she undoes them one by one. Sliding her hands up over his chest, she glides the jacket from his shoulders, letting it land at their feet. She grabs the tie hanging loosely around his neck and lays it around hers, the ends resting atop the curve of her breasts. Emery looks up, his eyes on her hands. She tugs the ends, and drags her fingertips over her nipples, causing her to shiver as they peak at her own touch. He smiles down at her and rests his hands on her hips. “That could be fun later,” he taunts.

“Not long enough to hold me in place,” she laughs, speaking from experience. Her scent on his beard overwhelms her and she feels another rush of wetness between her legs. Stepping forward, she squints her eyes to undo the tiny button at his neck. “How the fuck did your large hands fasten this thing?” she grumbles. Finally getting it loose, she drives her hands down the row of buttons, popping each one loose and teasing over his skin with a light touch of her hands. She smiles when he sucks in his breath as she yanks the shirttail from the waist of his pants, undoing the final one.

“Speed it up, you’re killing me.” He sighs heavily.

“Not yet,” she winks. “‘No rush, love.’ Isn’t that what you said?”  She slowly runs her hands over his chiseled torso, admiring the way his pale skin moves under her touch, tracing over his new tat. Reaching up, skimming under the collar of the shirt, she pushes it down over his broad shoulders and lets it fall to the floor, landing on top of his jacket.

Helping her with the belt buckle, he chuckles when she slaps his hands away. “I should haul you over my lap and spank your ass; using my words against me.”

Freeing the snap on his pants, she breathes warmly against his chest. “I might like that.” She cocks her eyebrow and smiles wickedly as she carefully lowers to her knees in front of him.

“Saucy little thing, aren’t you?” His head drops back against the doorframe and he leans his upper body back, straining his hips forward for her touch.

Quickly she fumbles with his shoes and socks, moving them aside. With quick hands, Emery pulls the zipper down, her palm cupping under him. Gently she squeezes his balls and blows a hot breath across his covered cock. He clears his throat and shifts his hips, pushing himself against her hand. “‘Kitten?”

“Hmmm,” she hums absently, letting go and reaching up for the waistband of his pants. The back of her hand grazes the sensitive skin on his lower belly, earning a groan from him. The heat throbs between her legs at the animalistic, hungry sound. His momentary lack of control fires her up, knowing she makes him feel just as hot and needy. “Such a fine gentleman, letting me come first…” Clawing at the rich, dark fabric, she pushes his dress pants down the length of his legs, ready to suck on his thick, veiny cock. “No rush at all,” she murmurs before sucking him between her plump, red lips.

Click here to read Late Night Snack

If you want to know more about Emery and Chris, read the novella Georgia on My Mind, and their additional stories

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

 

Surprises Ahead

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Surprises Ahead

An Emery&Chris story

By avenger-nerd-mom

Word Count: 3137

Warnings: Language, Domestic Fluff, so cute it’s sickening

Summary: Emery is fed up with snowy Boston winters and misses her hard working husband.

Previous Chapter, Christmas Presents

February 2019

Tired from a long morning on set, and travel, actor Chris Evans really just wants to crawl in bed and sleep for a few hours. But there’s more work to be done before he can rest. Turning into a familiar spot, he places the car in park, just as his phone begins to ring. Pulling the phone from his pocket, he doesn’t even bother with hellos. “Hey, Kitten, I was just getting ready to call you. I-”

“Christopher Robert!” Emery’s voice shrills through the connection. “You called Dr. Puckett’s office?”

Removing his sunglasses, he rubs his hands over his face. “Shit, they told?” He rests his head against the plush headrest, not really surprised.

“Of course they did. They had strict orders not to give out any information, in case I was being followed to appointments by paparazzi, or whatever.” She huffs and the sound of metal clangs.

“What are you doing?” He asks, sitting up and shifting in the seat. He looks around his surroundings and frowns. “You’re not supposed to be moving around too much.”

“For your information, I had to pee. Baby E is pressing on my bladder. I went to the bathroom, is that okay with you?” Even her Southern drawl is unable to hide the irritation in her voice.

He bites back his chuckle, stretching his legs and pulling the key from the ignition. “I suppose, if you must.” He laughs when she calls him an ‘asshole’ under her breath, his favorite term of endearment. “What’s the other noise I hear?”

Emery sighs. “I’m doing laundry. I was sick, again, this morning, so the sheets needed to be washed. And I’m supposed to get some movement in during the day. I was going to finish this up, eat some lunch, and then take a nap. Hopefully dream about my favorite actor,” she giggles. “He’s kinda cute.”

“You are talkin’ about me, right? I’m still your favorite?” Chris reaches for the bag in the front seat next to him. Getting the conversation back on the original track, he says, “Okay, so I get the doctor’s office isn’t supposed to give out information, but I’m your husband. They even asked for the password, in case I was scamming them. That was good thinking, by the way.” He climbs down out of the rented SUV, and stretches his legs. “You seriously told them not to tell me anything without a written note and video approval?”

He shakes his head, remembering the phone call with the office staff yesterday. He’d made the secretary repeat herself. ‘Yes, Mr. Evans. Sorry, it says here in the chart you are, and I quote, ‘a sneaky liar and can charm anyone’ and we aren’t supposed to give you that information without a written note and video. And if you question it, we are supposed to tell you the video is required in case you might try to forge your wife’s signature.’

Downey had a good laugh over that one, knowing his young bride had his number pegged. ‘Man, she’s got you by the balls. I knew I liked her!’

He reaches for his bag from the back seat, and slings it over his shoulder.

The washer door clangs. “I knew you’d get itchy and want to know. I can’t believe you tried to go behind my back and ask MY doctor the sex of our baby.” He hears the plastic basket drop to the ground. “It’s the first time I’m ever gonna get a surprise and know I’m gonna love it, no matter what it is.”

“I was a surprise,” he says, balancing the paper sack in his arms and reaching for another key in his pocket. “You weren’t expecting me to answer your dating profile.”

“Evans, I’m still not sure I like you,” she sneers. “You know I hate surprises. Oh shit. Hang on. I’m gonna have to call you back. Someone’s ringing the doorbell.”

“It’s probably Joanna’s kid. Wasn’t he supposed to come by and shovel the driveway today?”

“Yeah, but he had three other jobs lined up too. How can I hang up if you’re still talking to me?” He can hear her patter towards the door and he can’t wipe the smile from his face.

The door flies open and a blast of cold Boston air pushes her hair back, loose tendrils swirling around her. “Chris!”

Wrapping his free hand around her waist, Chris gently picks her up off the ground and carries her back a step or two. He kicks the door closed with his solid boot and sets the food down on the stairs before wrapping his other hand under her tousled hair. “God, I’ve missed you. I hope you don’t mind this surprise.”

Placing her on the ground, he bends to kiss her lips tenderly, sucking in her breath. He laughs at the salty tears streaming down her face and kisses the tip of her nose. “I missed you too much, Kitten,” he whispers.

She grabs his sweater and buries her face in his chest, inhaling deeply. “Oh honey, this is the best surprise yet. I really wasn’t expecting you. I was getting too worried about flying to LA alone.” She steps closer and wraps her arms around him, digging her hands in his back pockets. “You smell so good. I need this. Need you.”

He sways on his feet, rocking her gently side to side, to a silent rhythm only he hears. His hands caress over her tangled hair, and he kisses the top of her head. Several moments pass, before a quiet ‘meow’ is heard on the stairs and a little paw scratching at the bag.

“I know you hate surprises. But are you up for another one?” He turns her slightly to see the bag in question. The cat turns and runs away.

“Tasty Burger?” She smiles, her nose sniffing the air. “What’s in the sack?”

Chris grabs her hand in his, and the bag with the other, leading her to the kitchen. “I didn’t know what you’d want, so I got a selection. Fries and onion rings, the chicken parm sandwich and some burgers. And a chocolate milkshake.” He reaches into the large bag, pulling out the peace offering and handing it to her.

She takes a sip, the thick, chocolatey nirvana slowly reaching her lips. She looks down into the large bag, pulling out a sack of fries. “All of it. I want all of it,” she says, grabbing an onion ring looped over some fries. Emery tucks her hand under her growing belly and pulls herself onto the bar stool at the counter bar. “I’m not kidding. I want some of the chicken parm and a burger.”

Chris taps her ass, turning around and taking a knife from the block by the stove. “Fine. We’ll share.” He hands her the utensil. “You cut and decide which part you want, I’ll eat the other half.”

“Which burger?” she asks, nibbling on a fry and unwrapping the chicken sandwich.

Walking to the fridge, Chris opens the matte silver doors and gets two water bottles. “The one with bacon? I think it has gorgonzola cheese on it.”

“What kinda weird Italian crap is that? We don’t have that down South. Kraft and Velveeta. That’s what goes on a burger.” She smiles, teasing him, licking the tomato sauce from the chicken sandwich from her thumb. Biting into the crispy chicken, a glob of the sauce dribbles from her lip. Chris reaches over and tenderly scoops it off, licking his own thumb.

“You’re adorable when you pretend to hate it up here. But Scott sent me pictures of you playing in the snow the other day with Carly and the kids. Admit it, you love it?” Chris asks, hopeful she does indeed love his hometown as much as he does.

“I just wasn’t expecting you to be gone so much this winter, while I’m pregnant. That’s all. I hate feeling like everyone has to take care of me.” Emery chows down another bite of the chicken sandwich, breaking off the stringy cheese with her finger. “I don’t know my way around yet, and Shanna and your mom watch me like a hawk. No one will let me drive in the snow… I don’t feel very independent.”

Chris nods, understanding. “I have a job down South, in a few weeks. Would you like to go home, stay in Savannah, see your family?” He takes a handful of fries, under her watchful eye, and shoves them in his mouth.

Her eyes light up as she bites into an onion ring, pulling the onion from the fried casing. “I’d love that, but we have to see what Dr. Puckett says.” She drops the onion on her plate, but eats the crispy coating. “She was already a little nervous about me flying in a few days.”

“So am I,” he admits. “That’s why I’m home early. I don’t want you flying alone. All of your flight details have been changed, Lucy took care of it.” He looks away from her glare. “I know you hate the idea of your own personal assistant, but it’s been a big help, as long as you keep her in the loop. She’s gotta know your speaking engagements at schools so you aren’t double booked like you were with that magazine interview.”

“I got along just fine handling everything, I still don’t see it’s necessary.” Her new PA annoys her, but she’ll admit, she hasn’t really given the younger woman a chance yet.

“You have pregnancy brain, and keep forgetting things, Em,” he says softly, caressing her arm. “After the baby comes, and the press tour and baby stuff is all over, we can let her go if you really don’t feel you need her. But it makes me feel better knowing you have someone else looking out for you.”

Emery purses her lips. “Okay. Fine.” Her voice is not fine. “She’s temporary. So what changes did you two make without telling me?”

Chris swallows hard, pulling his hand back. “Point heard. Ok? We’ll talk things out. I just wanted to come home, and surprise you. I thought it would be a nice surprise?” He looks at her with puppy dog eyes and smiles when she nods her head. “We can fly out Tuesday, after we see Dr. Puckett, or we can wait and go Wednesday like you originally planned, but we’ll go out to LA together. You still have fittings for your dress Thursday, but the rest of the week is just us, relaxing.” He picks bacon from his sandwich, savoring the smokey flavor. He keeps quiet, holding out another secret from her. He doesn’t want to ruin the surprise that the Downeys and Ruffalos are planning a baby shower for her Friday night when they’re all in LA together. He nibbles another piece of the bacon. “I don’t know when my rehearsals are scheduled yet. Fuck, I hate presenting.”

“Oh, but you look so damn good in a tux. So confident. The Oscars are kinda boring, but watching you makes it fun. It always has for me.”

“Well, at least one of us enjoys it.” Chris stands on the rung of the bar stool and reaches across the counter top. “What’s this?”

“More names, just scribbles really.” Taking a big bite of the burger, Emery moans appreciatively. “That’s good shit,” she whispers. “Gorgonzola. Who would have guessed?” Going in for another bite, she quickly drops it onto the wrapper, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Oh my, God. I know. I have her name! It came to me the other day.”

“I thought we already decided,” Chris says, dragging a fry through the tomato sauce on the chicken parmesan sandwich. Deciding on baby names has been a constant give and take between the pair, trying to come up with something ‘just right.’

“No, you liked it, and I said no combination with anything remotely similar to any ex’s name. That really rules out a lot of names, Babe.”

He playfully swats her shoulder. “So you’re thinking that bump is a girl now?” Chris rubs his hands over her belly, grinning when he feels a little kick.

“I think it’s a soccer team. Whatever it is, it kicks too damn much, makes me pee all the time,” she happily caresses the bump, “and I’m still not over morning sickness yet.”

“This will be a fun flight to LA.” He bemoans quietly, withering from her glaring look.

Emery rolls her eyes and pulls a pen from her hair, her coppery red curls cascading around her shoulders. “Here.” She scribbles something on the page, tearing off the corner and handing it to Chris. “We’re agreed on a middle name, right?” He nods. “Read that. Tell me what you think?”

Looking at the paper he says the name she’s written.

She shakes her head. “No, that’s not right. Read it with a Southern accent. The first syllable? Rhymes with ‘thai.’”

Chris hides his smirk. “If we give her a ‘southern accent name’ no one is ever going to say it right.” He tries again, following her advice.

She grins. “Say it again. With the middle name. The whole thing.” He does, adding the middle name they’ve agreed on and their surname Evans, and she beams with pride. “Don’t you love it?”

He holds back his thoughts, seeing her happiness. “Ok, I wanna hear you say it.” Coming from her lips, the name sounds so much better, with a distinct Southern charm. “Emery, I don’t know… It is, it is very pretty. But this spelling?” He holds up the scrap of paper. “I thought you wanted to make sure to have a ‘normal’ name, seeing how students with difficult names often struggle with it in school.”

“Anyone with language studies could figure out the phonetics, besides, her father is Captain America. Her name will have been heard in interviews, written in magazines, many times before she even starts school.” She takes another french fry. Midchew, she stops and yawns. “Will you at least think about it? I really love it.”

He nods, wrapping up the leftover food. Stealing the milkshake, he takes a long drag from the straw. He’s pretty sure they’ve just decided the name, if Baby E is a little girl. Lord help him, they’d both have him wrapped around his fingers!

He doesn’t really care, as long as the baby is healthy, but deciding a name is so daunting. So many factors involved, and ultimately the name becomes part of the child’s personality. He’s grown used to the name Emery’s presented for a son, based on her family’s traditions, since before they even talked about having children, but their discussion of girl names keeps going back and forth. The list of scribbled names on the pad in front of him is an indication of their indecisiveness.

Until this new name, this name that rhymes with ‘thai’ as the first syllable.

The name that easily rolled off his beautiful wife’s tongue, sounding so right to his ears.

“Have you screamed it yet?”

Emery smiles. “Echoes through the house perfectly. She’ll know when her little behind is in trouble.”

Chris laughs, remembering her mother’s advice. ‘Just make sure it’s a name that rolls easily when you scream it, when you’ve gotta let that kid know he’s in trouble and better come running.’

“Did you check the monogram?”

She swats his arm again, sticking out her tongue. She’d already turned down three names, knowing the monogram would be awful. She’s a Southern momma. Baby E is gonna be swaddled in monograms! She blushes. “It’s not great, but it was like this little voice was saying it to me, like she’s telling me her name.” She rubs her hands lovingly over her belly.

“You heard it, huh?” He asks, doodling the monogram on the pad of paper. He can’t control his gut busting laugh, slapping his hand to his chest for her benefit. “Oh, that’s rich, honey!” He laughs louder as she joins in. “Our brothers are gonna have a field day with that.” When his laughter dies down, he wipes his eyes. “And you swear you didn’t ask Puckett if it’s a boy or girl?”

She crosses her heart. “I swear. And based on old wives tales, I have no idea. It comes out 50/50 every time we swing my ring over my belly, or do the pencil thing.” She shrugs. “The pencil test shows the miscarriage, a boy and a girl.”

Chris rolls his eyes at the legends of the old ways. “Emery, please tell me you don’t believe all that.”

Her voice drops. “Your aunties sure make it seem real.”

“If it was real, Shanna would have five sons by now,” he reminds her, unable to hide his skepticism.

“Whatever.” She yawns, tugging her hands through her wild mane of hair, trying to settle it. “I like the name. It means you can’t tell your mom.” Emery looks at him pointedly. “I like this one. Don’t ruin this name. You know that’s why your number one choice is no longer on the table, right?”

He bows his head. “I know. I got too excited,” he confesses. “But when she starts asking me questions, sometimes I can’t help myself.”

Sneaking the last fry from his wrapper, she smiles. “Just do what I do. I’ve been telling my mom we’re naming the baby ‘Brady,’ regardless of the gender.” She wads up her napkin. “That went over well with her church group.” She giggles. “I think they’re praying for us now. One of the ladies, my old Sunday School teacher, sent a quilt she made, Patriots colors, and wished us luck on our Yankee baby.” She laughs, pointing to the pile of gifts on the table. “Some things from your family are there, too. Names I didn’t recognize, so we need to open them together.” Emery yawns again.

“Maybe later, after you nap.” Chris helps her down off the stool. “The couch, or upstairs?”

Emery pats his arm, reaching for the sack of remaining food, and puts it in the fridge. “I try not to go up and down the stairs any more than I have to.” She turns back around and drinks down the last of the milkshake. “The couch in the office,” she nods down the hallway, “is wide. I’ve been taking naps there. It’s big enough we can snuggle down together?”

Aiming his napkin for the trash can, he shoots. It bounces off the side and lands on the floor. Blushing, he rushes up to it, retrieving his trash and dropping it in. “A nap sounds like the perfect way to spend a winter afternoon.” Turning off the kitchen light, he places his hand on the small of her back. “Lead the way, little Momma.”

SCROLL DOWN FOR MORE INFO AND LINK TO NEXT STORY!

In case I never get around to writing the baby shower the Downeys and Ruffalos had, this is Chris and Emery, getting ready for a date night. She had no idea he was taking her to a surprise party!

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And in case you wondered, this was how Chris announced to the world they were pregnant:

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Click here to read A Fine Gentleman, part two of Oscars 2019

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

Bun in the Oven

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Bun in the Oven

An Emery&Chris story

A Chris Evans fan fiction

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris and Emery spend Thanksgiving in Boston

Warnings: PURE fluff, language

Word Count: 1969

Get to know Emery and Chris in their novella Georgia on My Mind and their follow up collection of short stories

November 2018

Leaning her head against the cool porcelain, Emery wipes the back of her hand across her mouth and reaches up to flush the toilet. She sniffles quietly, too weak to stand.

“You gonna stay in here and puke all day?” Chris laughs, entering through the open doorway.

“Fuck you, you did this to me,” she laughs, closing her mouth quickly after a tiny burp. She holds her breath, praying she won’t be sick again. She sits back, resting against the side of the tub, and reaches for the cool glass of water he hands her. She drinks it down, hating the taste of Boston tap water, the old pipes in the house giving it a metallic taste.

He kneels beside her, wiping her face with a warm washcloth, discarding it in the tub behind them. He pushes her hair back from her face and rests a cooler cloth around her flushed neck. “You’re sure you’re not sick? You seem warm.” Worry and concern fills his voice.

“I’m warm because I tossed and turned all night, and your mother has this house hotter than Atlanta in August!” She snips, holding in another burp. She sighs. “Really, Chris, I’m fine. It’s not a fever. I just need to try to eat something, and maybe nap. But really, the house smells, and it’s making me sick.”

Everything makes her sick these days, but the smell of raw or cooking meat is the worst. “Honey, it’s Thanksgiving. Between the turkey and the sausage for the stuffing-” Chris stops himself, seeing her body convulse at just the spoken words about meat. “Ok, okay,” he chuckles. “I won’t talk about it, but you get the idea. Of course there’s gonna be food smells.”

She rests her head back against his strong, solid shoulder. “I’m hungry,” she pouts. “But that all sounds disgusting. And kill me now if my mother is down there, prepping for noodles and sauerkraut.” She burps again and drinks the last of the water in the glass before sitting it down on the floor next to her. “I want a steak.”

Chris laughs, kissing the top of her head. “A steak? And how am I supposed to do that, without adding to the smells of the house? Or divulging our little secret? Em, why don’t we just tell everybody you’re pregnant, since we have everyone together?”

She shrugs, curling into his chest and breathing in his scent. It’s the only smell that doesn’t make her sick these days. “You smell good,” she says. She tugs the collar of his ratty t-shirt. “Just a while longer. Everything we do is so public. I kinda like it being just us knowing for now. And yes, a steak. Surely there has to be a restaurant somewhere in Boston that’s open. You’re Chris fuckin’ Evans. Make a damn phone call.”

“You’re a grumpy pregnant lady,” he laughs. “What happen to the sweet, demure woman I married?”

“I puked it all out of me… Seriously. This is getting ridiculous. The doctor said the morning sickness should stop by the sixteenth week or so, now it’s nearly week 18 and I’m still puking all day.”

Chris rolls his head, popping his neck. “You can always put in a call to her service? Where’s your wrist bands?”

Her hands fly to her wrists. “Shit!” She looks around the room. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re tangled in the sheets?” One of her message boards for pregnancy had suggested motion sickness pressure point bands to curb some of the nausea, and for the most part, they had helped. Since they’d come home for the holiday, she’d been hiding them under long sweater sleeves.

Chris shifts his weight, his butt falling asleep on the hard tile floor. “You done for now? Wanna shower and I’ll drive around town till I can find you a steak, stop at CVS and buy some more bands?”

“Yeah, I think I’m okay for now.” Emery rolls over onto her knees, pressing her hands against his thighs. “Oh, and get some Captain Crunch.”

Steak and Captain Crunch cereal. The only two foods she can seem to keep in her system. He nods. “Stop it, silly Kitten. Let me help you up.” Chris rocks forward, grabbing the edge of the sink, pulling himself up. Reaching down, he tenderly grabs her elbow with one hand, and her hand with his other, gently lifting her to feet. The light from the bathroom window creates a halo effect around her curls. He sucks in his breath. “Oh, honey, you’re so beautiful.” He pulls her into his arms, holding her tight and kissing the top of her head. “Sorry little Baby E is making you so sick.”

“He’ll be worth it.” She smiles, brushing her cheek against his. Emery loves the clean shaved look for his newest project, Knives Out.

“So it’s a ‘he’ today, huh?” He smiles down at her, running his fingers through her long, hair, carefully tugging at the unruly curls.

She beams up at him. “Whenever I’m too sick, and it’s being a pain in the ass, it’s a he,” she laughs, the sound bouncing off the tiles and he joins in with her. “Don’t even ask. No gender reveal. I don’t wanna know.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, kissing the tip of her nose. His laugh deepens when her tummy rumbles. “Okay, so I’ll go be your big, strong provider and find sustenance for you and our little one.”

He bends down and places his hand on her belly, his lips brushing against her pale pink tank top. “Hello, little baby. Happy Thanksgiving. Quit making Momma sick. She’s gotta go out and people today, and it’s hard to keep you a secret if you make her burp every five minutes.”

As if on cue, Emery burps again. “Uff,” she complains. “Yeah, please stop doing that,” she agrees, rubbing her belly. “Go, so you can get back. Your mom will want you to start the grease for the turkeys soon. God, you’re gonna smell like oil and turkey for the next three days,” she mumbles under her breath. “And the kids want you to watch the parade with them.”

He kisses her protruding belly, still hidden to the average observer, and rises to tenderly kiss her lips. She pulls back. ”Haven’t brushed, eww.” He kisses the side of her mouth and quietly exits the bathroom.

Hearing her start water for the shower, the handsome actor grabs his hat and keys from the dresser. Taking the back stairs, Chris enters directly into the heart of the house for the festive day. Both their mothers sit at the table, chopping vegetables and Emery’s father stands at the counter, kneading fresh dough for bread. “Morning everyone,” he greets. “Text me coffee orders. I’ve gotta go run an errand or two. Emery caught the flu from the students she worked with this week and isn’t feeling well. I don’t know if she’ll be down this morning or not. I’ll stop at Dunkin on the way home.”

Lisa nods, smiling up at her son when he kisses the top of her head. “Pick up two more cans of green beans, too?”

He nods, absconding with a blueberry muffin from the counter for his drive.

Hearing the front door close, Lisa bumps shoulders with Anita. “Told you she was pregnant.”

Anita laughs. “Fine, fine. You win the bet. I’ll clean out the turkey gizzards.”

***

The kids cheer when the front door flies open and they see Uncle Chris enter the house. “Sit by me,” one of them shouts, patting the couch cushions.

“I’ll back in a few minutes, Pal. Aunt ‘Em needs me to bring her stuff first. Come here.” Chris is hoping none of the adults lurking around the house catch him. He carefully hands the tray of coffees to his oldest nephew. “Take these into the kitchen and don’t spill them. Nonna will yell at us all day if you do.”

The young boy solemnly nods and Chris watches as he methodically and slowly steps towards the kitchen. Satisfied the journey will be successful, he bounds the stairs two at a time, entering his childhood bedroom. Emery is sound asleep. Knowing she’s had difficulty sleeping, he decides to let her rest, leaving the boxed dinner and gift box on the bed.

***

“There’s Sleeping Beauty,” Preston Thomas jokes, announcing the arrival of his oldest daughter to the family gathering. “Waited till all the clean up was done and desserts were on the table, I see.”

“Taught me well, Dad.” She bumps his shoulder, wiping the sleep from her eyes. “Why’d you guys let me sleep so long?”

“Chris said you’ve been sick, dear,” Lisa explains, reaching for an empty plate and offering it to her daughter in law.

“Yeah, and we wanted you rested so you could go out shopping, like our first Thanksgiving together,” says Shanna.

“Yeah, it’s always important to keep with Thanksgiving traditions,” Chris winks at her, hiding his smile behind his napkin. Their first time sharing a bed together had been upstairs, three years before, in the early morning hours on Black Friday. He smiles, seeing the collar of his present peeking from under her cardigan. He puckers his lips together and rises, pulling her close. “You look a little flushed, babe. Too warm? Maybe you should take off your sweater?”

Barely holding in her giggles and her excitement to share their good news, she nods. “Maybe I should. Can you help?”

He stands behind her, slowly pulling the sweater from her shoulders, revealing his gift to her, to the room as a collective gasp is released before the whole room explodes in joy.

bun in the oven

***

Wrapping her up in a scarf to venture out into the cold night air with his sisters for Black Friday sales, Chris smiles down at his beautiful bride, the mother of his future children. He stuffs some cash in her pocket as he did not long ago, on their first holiday together. “Ya know, I think we were standing right here when I first thought about having children with you.”

She smiles, rubbing her thumb over his smooth cheek. “I remember. I felt it too. You looked so cute sitting there with Miss Sassypants. Man, she gave you and Scott a time that night didn’t she?” Their boisterous shouts that night had woken their niece and Carly had left them in charge so she could go shopping.

He nods, smiling at the memory of the late night feast on turkey leftovers. “She’s always had me wrapped around her finger. I’ve had years of practice.” He taps her nose. “I’m ready for my own, Mrs. Evans.”

“Me too, Mr. Evans, a little one of our own…” She tilts her head. “Hey? How did you manage that, by the way? The steak was fresh, like on a real grill, and the t-shirt?”

He chuckles. “Pick up a little something for Tara, for her troubles. Her husband and I cooked, and she used her craft letter cutting thing like you have, and made that up and ironed it on.”

She shakes her head in dismay. “Really, Chris?” She laughs. “You went and bugged Tara today, of all days?”

He shrugged. “She was happy to do it, and their family eats later in the day. It gave us a chance to catch up. I want you to know, it was all my idea.”

Carly and Shanna appear at the door, ready to go. They motion for Emery to hurry up. Shanna teases, “Come on! We’ve got a baby we need to start spoiling!”

Emery giggles and waves her out to the car. She reaches up on her tiptoes, kissing his smooth cheek. “You have the best ideas, sometimes, Mr. Evans. I love you, you know that?”

For reference to their first Thanksgiving together, check out Something to be Thankful For and Late Night Visit

Next Chapter, Snow Fun

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

 

Two Lines

two lines sept 14

Two Lines

*an Emery&Chris story*

by avenger-nerd-mom

Thanks to sisterly advice, Emery discovers a secret while Chris is gone for reshoots!

Warnings: Language, fluff, discussion of miscarriage

Word Count 1660

Get to know Emery and Chris in their novella Georgia on My Mind and their follow up collection of short stories

September 2018

Emery signals a left turn into the drive thru diner, asking her sister if she wants a snack. “I don’t know if it’s the heat, or what,” she says, making the turn, “but I’ve felt awful for two weeks and the only thing that sounds any good to me right now are root beer floats. I’ve probably gained five pounds while Chris has been away.”

Her sister Mackinzie looks up from her phone. “Did you say root beer floats?”

Emery nods, reaching into the side door pocket for some cash. “Yeah, why?”

Mackinzie waits while Emery places her order at the staticy old box, also ordering fried mozzarella sticks and a sweet iced tea. “Emery?” She asks with a restrained calm, “Are you pregnant?”

“What? No… I can’t-”

The redhead’s jaw snaps shut and she starts counting off on her fingers. Her eyes pop, her hands shaking. “Oh my God,” she whispers. A smile grows on her face, reaching her bright blue eyes. “I might be. We got stressed, keeping track of my cycles, so we stopped paying attention. I can’t remember my last period.”

Her sister nods, bouncing in her seat as Emery pulls the truck forward through the line. “You were sick and missed church a time or two and you said you’ve felt bloated from summer foods. You haven’t been exercising because you didn’t wanna put strain on your foot. I know you had at least one root beer float at the family reunion, and you’ve mentioned them a few times. You didn’t know that’s a common pregnancy craving?”

The women quiet as they pull forward to the window. Emery makes her payment, taking the food, too distracted to talk to one of her former students. Mackinzie says, “Sis, I’m pretty sure you’re pregnant.” She points across the street. “Pull over there. Go to the Piggly Wiggly and let’s get a pregnancy test.”

In a daze, Emery follows her sister’s command, crossing over carefully in the traffic, pulling a mozzarella stick from the bag. “Mackinzie, I can’t go in there, to buy that. It’s tourist season. If anyone saw me, it would be all over the internet before we’d even get home.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Didn’t think about that… What if I go in and get it for you? I’ll even pay for it if you let me stay with you while you wait for the results?” She taps her sister’s leg while she nibbles the cheese stick and pulls the truck into park. “I mean, I’m sure you’d rather Chris was here, but-”

“I can’t do it alone,” Emery says, squeezing her sister’s fingers tightly. “I mean, you can’t come in the bathroom, and I better drink all this tea fast, but no, I want you there-”

“-I’m your sis, I’m always there-”

“And no matter what, positive or not, you can’t tell anyone, not even Dan, and definitely not Mom or Chris.” Mackinzie is visibly shocked by the determination on Emery’s face. “I won’t hurt him like that again. I know everyone thought I took it hard, but you have no idea how the miscarriage killed him. He’s working and I don’t want to get his hopes up. If I’m not pregnant, he doesn’t even have to know. And if I am, I’ll wait till the right time to tell him.”

“Ok, Em. Whatever you need. You’re stronger than any superhero I know.” She reaches for her purse in the back seat. She chuckles, “Drink your tea. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Emery watches her sister climb down out of the truck. Finishing the fried cheese, she rests her head against the seat, inhaling deeply, gently placing her hand over her belly. She begins poking and pushing against her flesh, searching for any signs of change. Calculating in her mind, she quickly reaches for her phone, estimating she’s about six weeks along. “Siri, how big is a six week old fetus?”

“Here’s what I find when I search the question ‘how big is a six week old fetus?’” Siri replies in her computerized voice.

Emery clicks on the first link provided, smiling to think the baby, if she’s pregnant, is the size of a sweet pea. She continues reading, whispering aloud, “‘Your baby’s nose, mouth, and ears are beginning to take shape at 6 weeks pregnant. You may be having morning sickness and spotting.’ Spotting. That’s why I hadn’t figured it out.” She closes her eyes and says a silent prayer the spotting she’s experienced isn’t sign of a miscarriage. She continues reading, mumbling, “Sore boobs, exhaustion, mood swings. Fuck. How did we not figure out I was pregnant?!” She chuckles. “This is like textbook, and I’ve been such a bitch lately.”

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t see Mackinzie approach the car. “What did you say, Sis?” Her older sister asks, climbing up into the truck.

Emery swallows her sip of tea, before holding up the cup to look at it. “Shit. That’s a lot of sugar and caffeine. Can I even drink sweet tea now, if I’m pregnant?”

Mackinzie chuckles, resting the bag at her feet. “Depends on which doctor you see. If you can get in with Puckett, like I did, she’ll let you, in moderation. But you get a Yankee doctor, if you decide to buy that house in Boston, and they’ll tell you to cut back.” She fastens her seatbelt and turns to her sister. “What were you saying as I got in the truck?”

Emery rests her cup back in the console. “I was thinking out loud. It’s a wonder we hadn’t figured it out ourselves. I was a real bitch right before Chris left. It was like everything was happening at once. Grandad had his stroke, they sent me for another scan on my foot, the Leno viewing party, then the dash to Boston for the state primary. Plus all the tech troubles I was having with the new computer systems I’ve gotta be working with this year. I was just awful to Chris.” She shakes her head thinking about it now. She backs the car out of the parking space. “Really, I think our last words to one another was a fight about laundry, and he couldn’t find things he needed to take into the city, like his razor and beard kit. I’m pretty sure ‘I’m not your damn maid’ was screeched at the top of my lungs.” She hangs her head, sighing deeply.

Mackinzie sucks in her breath. “Why does Captain America need his razor? Is he not gonna be shaggy and bearded in the next one?”

Tapping her horn at the car in front of them, Emery quickly pulls to the left, deciding not to follow that driver out of the lot. Exiting from another side of the shopping center, Emery says, “You haven’t seen the leaked photos? Holy fuck, I need to bang my husband. Like now. Is that a side effect of pregnancy this early?”

Quickly scrolling her phone, Mackinzie holds up the image of one of the leaked photos. Chris, walking across a parking lot in a faded blue shirt, hand fisted at his side. “Hell no, not this early. That’s just a side effect of being married to this sexy bastard. Come on, Em, you’re married to Captain fuckin’ America. And he’s in Steve mode now? I don’t even care he’s my brother in law, I wanna lick my phone screen.”

Emery hits her older sister in the shoulder, maneuvering the big truck into another lane. “So when is the horny phase? God, he better be around for that. But he’s working non stop till-” At the red light, Emery slams on the brakes. “Fuck. Fuckin’ hell. Shit, shit, shit. I can’t be pregnant now. If I’m pregnant now, that means I’m due in the middle of the A4 press tour.” The panic is clearly written on her face.

Mackinzie reaches over to pat her sister’s arm. “Relax. Even if he goes on the tour, and you said he still hasn’t decided about that, Downey could have him on a plane and home in five hours.”

“He’s working round the clock for the next several months.” Emery breaths hard, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she turns into the proper lane, heading out of town towards her house. Their house. “What if the baby arrives and he’s not there?”

“Get a grip, Sis. A first pregnancy won’t deliver in less than five hours. Do you remember how long I was in labor with Dawson? Hella long. That’s how long. Like we could have a whole Marvel marathon in the birthing room before your baby arrives… But let’s not panic till you pee on that strip, and see what it says, okay?”

***

An hour later, the sisters stare at the four pregnancy tests lined up on the edge of the bathtub. Emery sucks in her breath. “I still don’t believe it. I need to hear it from a doctor.”

“Fine. Make the call. I’ll be right there with you.”

***

Near closing time, the nurse taps on the door of the office. Emery drops the paperclip she’d been fidgeting with onto he desktop as Dr. Jamie Puckett enters the room. “Em, it’s official. You’re gonna be a momma. You get to tell Chris the good news. He’s gonna be a daddy.”

The doctor walks to her desk, patting her patient’s shoulder as she passes by, before resting against the ledge of the dark stained wood. “Your math was off, Emery.” She reopens the file. “You’re actually about eight weeks along. If you want, we can do an ultrasound? A few of the nurses that know you, and know what you’ve both been through, said they’d be happy to stay late to assist with the procedure… How about it, Momma. Wanna meet Baby Evans?”

With tears in her eyes, tightly gripping her sister’s hand, the beautifully pregnant red-head nods. “Yes.”

click here for the next Emery &Chris story, Killing Time

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