= Best Wishes For A Prosperous Year = Happy New Year

恭喜發財 = Best wishes for a prosperous year 新年快乐 = Happy new year

The Red Thread of Fate (姻緣紅線) is an East Asian belief originating from Chinese mythology. It is commonly thought of as an invisible red cord around the finger of those that are destined to meet one another. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break.

Year of the Tiger (虎) • February 1st, 2022

"𝐁𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬" 𝐁.𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

001

Series warnings: for mature audiences (18+). Includes mentions of death/murders in graphic detail, leg closing NSFW sex (eventually), slow-burn. Also overall angst and fluff!

Series summary: Peyton thought she had everything she wanted. She had a family, were they complicated—no doubt. Not to mention a cafe struggling on its own two feet. But for Peyton, that was more than enough. Insert Bucky Barnes, the mysterious man from her cafe. The more she begins to pull back the layers of the elusive Bucky Barnes, the more the facade of a full heart begins to fade and craves to be filled by his presents. All the while Bucky's own guilt consumes him—seemingly only being cured by his bed of lies.

Peyton noticed him; hell, how could she not. The cafe wasn't big at all. In fact, it was the exact opposite. With its six tables, including the bench outside, there was no hiding in the Beanie Bussiness Cafe. And the man who sat in the corner every day was no exception.

Often Bucky would watch Peyton or her mother, Adrianna, with his intense blue eyes, sending shutters down their spine. It had been the beginning of week three since he had started visiting them, and today Peyton had enough. She would talk to him, confront him if she had to.

Peyton burst through the kitchen doors, wiping her wet hands off on her worn-down lemon print apron. "Charlie, I'm gonna do it," Peyton blurted.

"Do what, exactly?" Charlie muttered, her striking green eyes never leaving the fresh cinnamon roll she was icing.

"Confront him.' Peyton said, taking a sip of her hours-old coffee. "Confront blue eyes, I mean."

Charli snickered, brushing a loose piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. "Is that what we're calling him now?" She asked, pushing her iced cinnamon rolls into the warmer.

Peyton rested her arms on the flour-dusted counter. "I've always called him that—besides, have you got any better names?"

"Hm. Touché," said Charlie, glancing over her shoulder.

"Great, now give me a cinnamon roll." Peyton grinned, her palm covered by a plate that she held out in front of Charlie.

"I think you can ask a bit nicer," Charlie smirked, dancing around Peyton with the cinnamon roll clasped between a pair of tongs.

Peyton took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the baked goods that surrounded her. "Charlie, may I please have the cinnamon roll that you are holding hostage from my clutches so that I can give it to the strange man who sits in my cafe every day." She asked in a robotic tone.

Charlie dropped the cinnamon roll onto Peytons plate, tilting her head to the side. "Fine—but we're working on your manners, young lady!" She shouted, pointing at Peyton with the pair of tongs she held.

"Pff. I have manners! So many that I think it could be my superhero name." Peyton boasted, as she faced Charlie while walking backwards.

"We aren't the avengers, Pea," Charlie said.

Peyton paused, her lips pulling tightly together. "I know—because if we were, we would have never blipped for five years, and my business wouldn't have gone to shit." Peyton said. She used her green manicured nails to push open the kitchens swinging doors, walking the peace offering over to table number ten.

Finishing her strut to the table, Peyton smiled down awkwardly at Bucky, who sat sipping his freshly roasted black coffee. No sugar, no cream—just coffee. She cleared her throat in an attempt to get his attention. She wanted him to look at her the way he did so many times when he believed she hadn't noticed.

Eventually, he did. Slowly, Bucky lifted his eyes to see Peyton holding a fresh cinnamon roll in front of him. Bucky shot her a stiff grin, one that looked almost painful to produce. He hadn't ordered the cinnamon roll, he never ordered anything but black coffee from the cafe, and he assumed Peyton knew that.

She was aware Bucky's only order was coffee. And in Peyton's opinion, Bucky had the easiest, and if she was honest, most basic order out of all of her regulars. So, of course, she knew he didn't order the cinnamon roll.

Bucky coughed, placing his mug down with his flesh hand. "I didn't order that." He stated.

"I know.' Peyton placed the plate down, scooting it in front of Bucky with the tips of her slim fingers. "I wanted to give it to you." She smiled.

Bucky's eyes nervously looked at the roll, then back at Peyton, who had found herself seated comfortably in the chair across from him. He stiffened as she watched him with her intense brown eyes. Her stare wasn't the worst he had ever seen. But it was so obvious it was physically painful to Bucky. 

"What are you doing?" Bucky said dryly.

Peyton leaned back into the chair, squinting her eyes at Bucky who sat before her. "What are you doing?" She asked back.

Bucky's eyebrows drew together as he took another slow sip of his coffee. He didn't know what she was implying, and he was nervous about finding out.

"I mean here.' Peyton's brown eyes grew wide as she slapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry—not that you aren't welcome! What I mean is, I've never had a customer come in so often and never speak to anyone."

Bucky tried to respond, but the words were logged in his throat. All he could do was give Peyton his intense stare as it usually got people to leave him alone—but Peyton kept going.

"You see Mr. Jeffery?' Peyton shifted her gaze toward the older gentleman who sat reading an old book. "He comes in every day around the same time as you, maybe five minutes earlier. But he always speaks to us."

Peyton placed her hands onto the table, lifting out of her seat and leaning close to Bucky, causing him to shift back into his chair, uncomfortable with how close her nose was to his own.

"So I need to ask you two questions.' She glared. "Do you work for the Feds?"

"What? No." Bucky croaked, his eyes growing wide.

"Okay then.' Peyton sunk back into her seat. "So, are you stalking me?"

Bucky nearly choked on his coffee. He was coughing loudly while Peyton stared at him in distress. Bucky knew he looked peculiar sitting in the coffee shop each morning, not saying a word. And his approach to making amends was obscure, but Bucky was scared to reveal the truth—he'd be cruel to come in and ruin their happy lives.

Initially, Bucky had planned on slipping them a note and never returning. But when he saw how full of life they were, he couldn't. It felt wrong. So, he would settle for the stalker narrative—it felt better than the truth.

"No,' Bucky coughed once more. "I'm not—I should leave." He rapidly stood out of his chair as Peyton did the same, almost blocking him from leaving.

"No, I should leave you alone." Peyton ran her fingers through her hair, the tips getting stuck between her thick curls. "Please, sit.' She reassured, pointing to his seat. "The cinnamon roll is on the house. Tell me if you like it—it's our first batch of vegan rolls we're selling." She smiled, walking away backward, bumping into a table with her hip.

Bucky nodded, slowly sitting back down. His attention now focused on the warm roll sat in front of him, hesitantly he picked it up, turning it from side to side. It smelt marvelous, and before the cinnamon roll was placed in front of him, his stomach hadn't growled. But now, he was ravenous.

Bucky took one more sniff before taking a bite. His steel-blue eyes grew wide as the silky dough melted in his mouth like a marshmallow. He let out a low moan of satisfaction, it had been years since he had something so sweet, and he intended on savoring every bite.

From behind the display case, Peyton watched as Bucky devoured the cinnamon roll. She had a huge grin plastered on her face, mentally checking off talking to the man in the corner from her to-do list—not that she honestly had one.

She watched as Bucky stacked his plate and coffee mug neatly, pushing it to the edge of the table. Bucky would leave his coffee cup on the table on a typical day, with a generous tip tucked underneath it. It was thoughtful, and Peyton felt he was kind—or at least kind enough for her to bombard his space the way she just had. Peyton walked through the kitchen and into dry storage, where her mother stood. Pen and paper in hand, collecting inventory for the cafe.

"Momma, I did it." Peyton squealed, gripping her mother's shoulders, shaking them a bit.

Adrianna took Peyton's hands in hers, removing them from her shoulders. "Did what baby," She asked while counting the number of flour they had in stock.

"There's fifteen, by the way.' Peyton pointed to the flour."But I talked to blue-eyes."

"Thank you, darling." Adrianna jotted the number down and moved on, her eyes narrowing as she paused her stride. "Who?" She asked.

Peyton groaned, dramatically tossing herself onto the baking utensils behind her. "The man that always sits in the corner, remember him?" Peyton flayed her arms. "Oh, of course you do because he only sits there every day!" She exclaimed.

Adrianna glared at Peyton over her shoulder, not impressed with her daughter's tone. "Don't get smart. I might be pushing fifty, but I'll still give you a beat down." Adrianna threatened.

"Momma, you know I don't mean it like that. It's just, how am I the only one who notice him."

"Because you're a weirdo." Adrianna laughed. "But you're my weirdo, so it's okay." Giggling, she kissed her daughter's hairline, moving around her to finish inventory.

"Whatever," Peyton chuckled lightly. "I should be getting Mr. Jeffery his third round of matcha anyways." Peyton stalled, looking around her."Where is my coffee?"

"I threw it out!" Charlie shouted as she washed a pile of dishes.

"You did not!' Peyton marched over to Charlie. "Why I outta feed you to Alpine!" Peyton shouted, shaking a finger in Charlie's face.

Charlie smirked, biting Peyton's finger playfully. "That cat loves me." She said, releasing Peyton's finger from her mouth.

Peyton moved a curl out of her face raising her eyebrow cheekily at Charlie. "Seeing as he's my cat, I'm pretty sure he loves me."

"I think he loves him," Adrianna said, her head peeking out from the kitchen's swinging door.

"What?" Peyton frowned, walking over to her mother, standing on her tiptoes. "What the hell." She whispered.

There, she saw Alpine, her cat who was rubbing against Bucky, resting comfortably on his lap. But Bucky wasn't repulsed by Alpines friendly nature. Instead, he stroked Alpines white fur, only making the cat nuzzle into him more. From the kitchen, Peyton could see him whispering to Alpine— and of course, she couldn't hear what was said, but she was still curious.

"Oh man, what should I do?" Peyton paced, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Charlie, being the tallest, had no use for her tiptoes. She simply looked above Adrianna's head, getting a view of the action as Peyton paced back and forth behind them.

"Maybe go get your cat, just a thought." Said Charlie.

"Right," Peyton said, fluffing her hair a bit in the reflection of the window.

"What the hell are you doing?" Charlie laughed.

"Nothing," Peyton snapped back all too quickly.

Peyton walked out of the kitchen doors, slowly making her way to Bucky's table. Where Alpine rested on his shoulders, she thought of the ways she'd ask for her cat back. Maybe she could try "Hey, mister, can I have my cat back," or "May you please return my cat." It all sounded stupid, and before she knew it, Peyton found herself standing above Bucky once more.

"Hi," Peyton grinned, eyeballing Alpine.

"Hi," Bucky said, allowing Alpine to climb on his covered metal arm.

She watched as Alpine rolled over, swatting at his gloved hands. "He likes you." She chuckled.

Bucky began to pet Alpine once more. "Hm."

Peyton was taken back by his lack of words, not knowing what to say to him or if she'd get more than a three-word response in return.

"Do you have any pets?" Peyton blurted.

"No."

Peyton sighed, slipping into the same chair as she had done before. "Well, do you have a name?" Her voice had a nervous tremor as she played with her fingers.

"Bucky," He said, gently handing her Alpine while walking past.

Following him, she stuck out her hand for him to shake. "Well, I'm Peyton." but by then, Bucky was already halfway out the door.

Bucky nodded, shooting her a faint smile before shutting the door behind himself. Bucky knew her name—Bucky knew all their names. He had to because painfully, he remembered all of them. All of the victims who suffered at the hands of the Winter Soldier. Especially the innocent ones.

Walking down the crowded street, Bucky's phone began to buzz in his pocket. Taking it out, he flipped open the screen. He groaned aloud when he saw it was Sam trying to get in contact with him. Composing himself, he answered.

"Yeah," He said bleakly.

Back at the cafe, Peyton had Alpine cradled in her arms as she rocked him back and forth. She walked around to where Bucky once sat, she cleared his mug and plate from the table, placing them into the tub she had placed beside her. She picked up the daily tip Bucky left, putting it in her pocket. In the corner of her eye, Peyton watched as a tiny napkin fell to the floor. Placing Alpine down and letting him roam, she bent over and picked up the small napkin. Unfolding it, she read the one word written on it.

"Thanks."

How fitting, Peyton thought.

Smiling to herself and releasing a small laugh, she shoved the note into her pocket, feeling as if she had accomplished something for the day. All Peyton wanted to do was make those around her feel good—and most times, she achieved that with her baking. So knowing  Bucky enjoyed her first batch of vegan cinnamon rolls warmed her heart. After today she could officially put speaking to Bucky behind her.

previous part

main series masterlist

modern au gaang + first job?

unless you count helping in gran gran’s store, sokka’s first official job is babysitting (aang).

unless you count helping in gran gran’s store and her numerous lemonade stands with aang, katara’s first official job is at the claire’s in the mall.

suki’s first real job is mopping floors and making coffee runs at a dojo, but soon enough she’s teaching her own classes.

zuko’s first job is as a tea server at his uncle’s teashop the jasmine dragon.

toph’s first job is also as a tea server at the jasmine dragon.

azula hates doing busywork and serving other people, but interning at a big tech company will look good on her college applications, so she suffers through it.

aang’s first official job is when suki gives him a percentage of her profits from her band’s album after he helps her promote it (he is very successful in this mission btw bc no one can say no to him), but before that he spent a lot of hours volunteering at the local soup kitchen and animal shelter.

ty lee makes a lot of money off of her large internet fanbase, sponsoring various products, selling her “bathwater,” etc.

mai doesn’t actually need a job because her parents just send her money, but she’s really into coding and ultimately ends up developing her own video game that gets really popular, which is a good thing too because she can no longer depend on her parents after her dad got prosecuted for his multiple corruption scandals. well.... she can’t say she’s surprised.

The Black Widow movie highlights all the problems I had with the way Joss Whedon approached the forced hysterectomy aspect of Nat’s background.

As Yelena notes when she shows Nat her vest- the girls of the Red Room don’t have bodily autonomy. They can’t make any decisions for themselves. The hysterectomy bit in the plane acts as a very vile and vivid example of this.

Joss Whedon chose to put all his focus on the “no kids” angle instead of the bodily autonomy angle. In his eyes the horror was the absence of child bearing, not the absence of choice. To him- it’s a given that all the girls in Red Room would’ve had babies if their lives had gone differently- bc women who can’t have children are monsters and societal outcasts.

When Nat inquired about Yelena wanting kids she replied that she wanted a dog. I take this as Yelena doesn’t want kids, BUT she still mourns the loss of that choice. She resents how she never had a chance to come to that realization herself. Which, for most women, will hit home more than just “shes infertile and it’s the worst possible thing that could happen to her.”

madison, you really gon do this to me! i found what to expect when you’re not expecting on a whim and part two is just as good!! but girl why is it so short 😭. please tell me you have ideas about turning this into some type of series bc lissen 😻😭😭.

HAHAHHA yes I’m turning it to a series I’m working on the next part right now!

What To Expect When You're Not Expecting (3)

Chris Evans x Black (pregnant) Female Reader

Summary: It's no secret that Chris wants to be a daddy. He's said it in many different interviews and blogs before. He just never expected the mother of his child to be someone he didn't know, let alone fuck.

Warnings: 18+ angst, mentions of alcohol abuse and cheating/ malpractice, talk of abortions!

Note: If this gets a few hits and is well received I can make it a mini-series. If not I'll leave it one and done.

Edit: To my surprise, many of you like this and asked me to continue, here's the second part and a tag list to join! I'm trying to start my blog up so this really helps!

divider by: @firefly-graphics

taglist link here

(the reader is about two and a half months at this point)

Another school week had come to a close and you still hadn't been able to have a proper meal without the aid of ginger ale by your side. your advanced placement section had just left, and most of the high school was clearing out or joining their afterschool activities. You sighed packing your books and laptop away in your tote bag. Before you could shut off your desktop you heard a soft knock on your door.

You turned around and saw Aria Evans standing in your doorway with her basketball uniform on. She was not only brilliant at academics but in sports as well. Basketball in the fall, soccer in the spring. She was guaranteed to get into a stunning university.

"Aria.' You smiled. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I, um, I was just checking in on you. You know, from a few weeks ago." Her eyes wandered to your stomach which had started to grow at this point causing you to wrap your arms around yourself.

"I'm fine Aria, thank you." You smiled softly.

"Do you know who my uncle is?" She blurted.

you looked down at your shoes, you turned, and finished packing your bag. "No." You lied.

"I don't mean to be in your business, but I overheard my mom and him talking.' She played with the hem of her uniform. "I just wanted to know if it was true."

You sucked in a deep breath, shaking as you expelled it through your nose. "Aria, is this really an appropriate question for you to be asking me?"

"No, I guess not.' She kissed her teeth, walking towards your door. "I just thought you'd be honest is all."

You turned around to face her. "What is there to be honest about if you already know?" You dropped your arms letting your growing belly be on display.

Aria shook her head and pushed open your classroom doors, disappearing into the hallway. You sighed, throwing your hands over your face. Now that a teenager knew your secret you were certain everyone would soon after.

—

Chris was still shocked you had agreed to get coffee with him after last week's fiasco. This time he wanted it to be just the two of you. No managers, no lawyers, no drama—hopefully.

Chris had gotten a small corner of the cafe for you two to occupy. Now all he had to do was wait for you. it hadn't been long until he saw you walk in. You had your phone in your hand and you were bundled up in scarfs and a long coat, sporting a pair of boots that made your frame look slimmer.

You looked around the cafe obviously looking for him. He took the liberty to bring you to your table. Chris walked over to you and placed a gently hand on your elbow.

“Hi.” He said, a smile could be captured from underneath his Boston baseball cap.

“Hi.” You picked off a curl that hand stuck onto your lipgloss.

Chris smiled softly at you. “We’re over here.’ He felt you stiffen. “By we’re, I mean you and I.” He reassured.

“Right.’ You chuckled softly, following behind him.

“I didn’t know what you’d like. So I left the menu for you.” Chris groaned, sitting down.

“Probably just a ginger ale. I can’t stomach much else.” You explained, feeling a gaging sensation even now.

“That bad, huh?” He asked, feeling bad for you.

“Mhm.’ You nodded, focused on finding a waitress before you puked everywhere.

“Have you told anybody?” Chris sipped on his coffee that was already running cold.

“What?” You turned to look at him.

“About the pregnancy.’ He sat his cup down gently. “I wouldn’t want you going through it alone.”

“Um.’ You coughed to keep your vomit at bay. “Just my best friend Vada. My sister is at LSU, and my mom.’ You paused, not ready to go that deep with Chris yet. “Just my best friend.”

“But I know you’ve told people.” You said finally flagging down a waitress, begging for a bottle of ginger ale.

“How do you know that?” Chris’s eyes bunched together.

You pushed your lips together making them turn white, before opening them to speak. “I teach your niece aria. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a joy and one of my brightest student’s. But she did ask me if I was pregnant by you the other day.”

“God.” Chris shook his head. “I’m sorry about her, she must have heard me and my sister talking.”

“It’s fine.’ You smiled shortly, downing your first sip of ginger ale. “So what did you want to talk about?’ You burped. “Sorry.”

Chris stifled a laugh. “Just the baby, I suppose.” Chris had so much he wanted to talk about, but he wanted to take it slow with you. He could tell you were still holding back.

“What about the baby?” You asked, finally not feeling goosebumps when you said that word. You were finally bonding with your little ball of a mistake and you kind of liked it—just hoped it would stop making you sick.

“Well maybe we should set up an ultrasound, and get you some prenatal vitamins. Maybe even a home birth nurse, and a doula for after you give birth.” Chris rambled.

You took a sip of your ginger ale, laughing as your lips attached to the bottle. “Someone did their research.’ You chuckled, Chris doing the same. “I just can’t afford those things and I’m already paying high insurance for something unrelated.’ You sighed. “Let’s just start at the ultrasounds and store bought prenatal vitamins—and I’ll only have pizza twice a week.”

Chris looked you up and down, you really didn’t even think of him as an option in getting you those things. He wanted the two of you to be a team on this. He needed you to know you can trust him and he wants the best for you and his baby.

“Well, I mean I could always pay for it.’ Chris took a sip of his coffee, his blue eyes staring at you through the heat that seeped from his cup.

“Ha.’ You snorted. “That’s some really expensive stuff.’ You pulled out your phone typing away. “A doula alone is anywhere from eight hundred to twelve hundred a night.” You shook your head.

“Well I’m not on a regular salary.” He said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You folded your arms.

Chris sat his cup down, and leaned back spreading his arms on the cushion of the couch. “Just means if we want something for our baby, I can get it.” He said, with a rough low voice. “You’re just gonna have to trust me.”

“We’ll see.’ You said, looking him up and down. “I’ll set an ultrasound for next weekend, with my new gynecologist by the way.” You rolled you eyes. “Have you done anything with Perez yet? I can’t afford to.”

“My teams working on something, she’ll get what’s coming for her. We’ll cover your butt too so don’t worry about it.” Chris said, not wanting you to stress about it.

“Right.’ You finished your bottle.

The moment got quiet for you and Chris and the air around you began to thicken as he stared at you with those ocean eyes. Reading you. Studying you. You shifted uncomfortably coughing and moving your eyes from his direct line of sight.

He spoke. “Do you still have the pills?”

You knew this question was coming. You knew how much Chris wanted this, how obviously he feared with one choice it could be over for him. It was your turn to read Chris and he looked worried, every part of his firm body softened praying your truth matched his want—his hope.

You swallowed, tucking your lips inward. “I flushed them.” You admitted.

You could hear Chris audibly gasp, it was a sound of relief. “Why?” He asked, feeling his hope rising as you spoke.

You sighed, crossing your legs the tip of your boot touching his knee cap. “Because I want this.”

Chris smiled brightly, almost too brightly. God, he wanted to hug you. But he wouldn’t. It felt like something he could maybe sneak in after you had given birth. But for now the relationship still felt professional.

“I’m so glad to here you say that.” His smile still visible under his hat.

“You really want kids?” You asked him.

“A big Boston family.” He said.

“Well I’m only giving you one, so cherish it.” You laughed a bit.

“Right.’ Chris laughed along. “And you?”

“Hm?’ You tilted your head to the side.

“Want any kids?” He asked.

“No, but I guess I do now.” You smiled somberly, rubbing your growing belly.

Chris sat up looking down at your sweater covered womb. He almost reached for it, but he didn’t want to violate. “May I?” He blurted.

Your eyes went wide. Did you let him touch you? You almost wanted to say no. But this was his child too. “Yes.” You said hesitantly.

Chris’s hand reached out slowly toward yours belly, as he gently placed it onto you lower abdomen. He couldn’t feel much physically— but spiritually he felt his child and he loved their first touch. He smiled as his eyes watered. Chris was really going to be a daddy.

“You can’t feel much yet.” You said, looking down at Chris’s large hand.

“I know. It’s firm though.” He moved his hand.

“It isn’t always like that, so I guess that’s something.”

“Why do you touch it? Your belly?” He asked.

You were starting to notice that Chris was full of questions. “Just a comfort, knowing I’m not all alone anymore. Someone’s here with me.” You were honest.

Chris nodded and the room fell silent again for you two. Mostly because there was so much both of you wanted to say but were just to afraid to say, and you’d already rested enough water for today it felt.

“I’m going to order my Uber.” You spoke up, breaking the ice.

“Uber?” Chris asked. “I can drive you.”

“No, no.’ You waved him off. “It’s fine.”

“Y/n,” Chris placed his warm hand on your knee it jump slightly. “I insist, Ubers aren’t safe anyways.”

“You don’t live too far from here anyways.” He said.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How do you know where I live?” You lowered your phone.

Chris’s eyes went wide. Embarrassed he had let that slip. “Well when I needed to find you I hired a private investigator and I guess he went really private.” He said watching your face fold in confusion.

“You hired someone to find me?” You stood up, trying to keep your voice to a minimum.

Chris stood up too. “Well yes, how else could I have found you.” He justified.

“I’m gonna wait for my uber outside.” You shook your head, tucking your coat to your body.

Chris rolled his eyes. Boy you were a stubborn one. He followed after you catching the door you had slammed, not knowing if it was intentional or not.

“Hey,’ he jogged toward you. “Y/n, cancel it.” He sighed, holding his hands on his hips.

“Why?” You asked, not looking at him.

“Because I’m taking you home.” He pushed his Audis keys making the car light up from across the parking lot.

“You don’t have to take care about me because I’m pregnant.” You said, shoving a piece of spearmint gum into your mouth.

“I do care about you.”

You laughed, popping a bubble with your gum. “You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe I want to get to know you.’ He said, rolling his keys in his hands.

You let another bubble pop, looking him up and down. God he was mulish. “Fine.”

“Fine what?” Chris almost grinned.

“Fine you can’t take me home.”

Chris smiled. “Perfect.”

—

The ride had been quiet so far, neither of you know what to say to feel the void. Honestly your Uber would have been more enjoyment than this. You had to say his car did drive nicely, and was oddly clean.

You snickered as you looked out the passenger window, the Boston trees morphing from their summer shades to their fall ones.

“What’s so funny.” Chris asked.

“You.”

Chris looked over at you for a brief moment before focusing back on the rode. “And how am I funny, Ms. Y/n?”

“Your car, it’s just really clean.’ You picked the fuzz off your cardigan. “Does someone do it for you?”

Chris laughed, fixing his baseball cap on his head. “What you think I can’t clean my own car?”

“No, it just looks really clean, like really clean.” You expressed

“And your car isn’t?”

“I don’t have a car.”

Chris frowned. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”

“Wouldn’t call an Uber if u had one.”

“Maybe I can help you with that.” Chris coughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

The car stopped at a red light and so did you heart. This was exactly what you didn’t want to happen. Chris get whim off your financial short comings and wanting to fix everything for you. You didn’t need his help with anything but the baby.

“I can manage.” You grumbled, crossing your arms.

Chris sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He rubbed a hand over his full beard. “I just meant I want to help out where I can.”

“I’ve been saving up from my other job for a while now.’ You said. “No need.”

Chris’s eyes bunched together. When him and his p.i had worked together they hadn’t found you had another job. And they out found almost everything about you. “You have another job besides teaching?” He turned into your small apartment complex.

“Yeah.” You felt the car jolt as he put it into park.

“Where? If you don’t mind me asking.” He turned his body slightly towards you.

You gathered your purse, pushing open his door. “A bar in downtown Boston. I work Saturday and Sunday nights.”

“Why?”

You laughed, holding your belly as you swung out of his low seating car. “Because not all of us can be multimillionaire actors like you.”

Chris swallowed hard. “Right. Well can you text me when you set the appointment, I want to be there.” Chris smiled.

You nodded. “Thank you.’ You said, fumbling with your keys. “For the ride.”

“Anytime.” He smiled. Watching you as you unlocked the door and entered the complex.

Chris released a heavy breath putting his car in drive and pulling off. He hated that you were working two jobs and had no car. He knew it wasn’t his place but he wanted your pregnancy to be comfortable and smooth sailing. Not filled with stress, he wanted to do something for you— a nice jester, he just hoped you didn’t take it wrong.

@goldenlouvr @rookiemartin @stokeleybabymama @peachy-bunnns @pbeckn26 @saturnalya @a-moment-captured

@fairlygothparents @eylsqnn blahblahblah-boo @jackiekae @ shhhchriss

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a/n: guys I did not expect this story to blow up, especially with my blog being so new! I appreciate all the love and support and I will definitely keep this series going with more drama and angst to ensue! But if you’d like to be tagged send me an ask it’s easier to keep up with! ❤️