" " .

"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

Blue Masterlist

Summary: James and Y/N take a road tip across the country to help Bucky’s recovery process. A question Y/N asks at the beginning of the trip sets Bucky searching his memories for an answer, one he finds he needs if he can move forward.

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3 

Part 4 

The Truck 

Part 5 

Part 6 

Part 7 

Part 8 

The Letter 

Part 9 

Part 10 

Part 11 

Part 12  

Part 13 

Europe

Part 14 

Part 15 

Part 16 - End

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.”

Hi, girl! You are AMAZING!😍😍 pulling all the heart strings! Keep up the amazing work! Could you kindly add me in your taglist for what to expect when you are not expecting? I LOVEEEEE it ❤️❤️ thank you and again you are amazing

Yes I will! I’m sorry about the update time! I’m just busy with school work this week! Should be out soon though thank you so much for the love!!! ❤️😩

What To Expect When You're Not Expecting. (1)

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.

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.

»»————««💌»»————««

a month prior

Chris was getting older, there was no denying that. He was forty and still hadn’t found the ‘one,’ yet. Every relationship he had entered seemed to go in the same pattern of amazing highs and devastating lows, them all resulting in a breakup. So after much thought, he found himself jerking off over a small test tube trapping his sample inside. Hoping one day, his true love will be in possession of it and they can begin his dream—a big happy Boston family.

“We’ve put your sample in the freezer and it won’t be defrosted until we get legal confirmation from you personally.” Dr. Perez said, standing from her desk.

Chris stood up as well, holding his hand out and clasping it onto hers with a firm shake. “Thank you so much. Hopefully, that day is soon.” He smiled.

“Hopefully.” She sighed, trying not to allow her mind to wander off onto the pages of her own tragic love life.

See, Dr. Eleanor Perez and her wife Kaitlyn Perez were at faults. No fault of her own, it’s just that her wife couldn’t stop fucking cheating. Kaitlyn didn’t even have the decency not to fuck her other partners in their shared bed at their Boston home. It was becoming unbearable for Eleanor, and the only thing that was making things tolerable was the euphoric feeling she got when she finished another bottle of wine each night.

Last night was Moscato, tonight—maybe Josh, Behringer even. Whether it was red or white she just wanted to feel nothing at the end of it.

Chris walked out of the doctor's office, twirling his car keys on his fingers and unlocking his Audi, diving right into the passenger's seat. He loved the stark contrast of Boston versus the restless cities like Atlanta and L.A. Everything about Boston made him feel nostalgic and grounded—and there’s no place he’d rather been.

Chris put his car and drive and pulled out of the facility, then his mind began to wander. He was forty now and any lover he pursued would reasonably be the same age. He selfishly wanted a big family but wasn’t willing to just shack up with anyone. Chris had the vision of a big bold primary-colored relationship that would sweep him off his feet and never put him down. And he just hadn’t found that yet.

Through extensive research, he found older pregnancies were risky and if done intentionally it is better to perform in the office. So he stored his sample—he just hoped he could put it to use soon because he was craving a simple life filled with simple love.

—two weeks later—

You’d never liked the doctor's office. You’d rather be in a prison cell with Pablo Escobar taking turns drinking toilet water than end up here. Everything from the nurses, needles, and the particularly clean environment sent shivers down your spine. You wanted nothing more than to be in and out.

But today you sucked it up for your once-a-year physical, which included a pap smear, a feeling you still hated even though you’d been getting it since you were eighteen. You sat in the waiting room clutching your jacket closer to your body as the Boston fall breeze blew inside behind people as they went in and out of the building.

“Geez.’ You blew into your hands. “You’d think this place could afford heating.” You rolled your eyes feeling your phone vibrate in your lap.

Msg from Vada🐣: How’s it going? You scared yet?

Msg from Y/N: Petrified. I’m cold too. 😔

Msg from Vada 🐣: Come to my place after, I’ll warm you up with hot cocoa.

You smiled as you bit your lip typing your message to Vada.

Msg from Y/N: Stop being a better best friend than me.

Msg from Vada 🐣: You know I love competition, Y/n. Call me when it’s over.

Msg from Y/n: shut up bitch.

Msg from Vada 🐣: Call me and then I will, jerk.

You laughed shoving your phone into your purse. Most days it felt like Vada was the best thing to happen to you. she was your best friend since childhood and nothing could break you two apart, she was always there for you. Sometimes too much that it was overbearing and bothersome but with some reflecting, you wouldn’t have it any other way with anyone else.

“Y/n Y/L/n.” A nurse called, peeking her head around a heavy wooden door.

You swallowed hard, holding tightly onto your purse. “That’s me.”

“We’re ready for you.” The nurse smiled, widening the door as you walked over.

“Right.” You mumbled underneath your breath, keeping your head down.

“Alright, just head over to room number five and Dr. Eleanor will be right in.” She smiled, her eyes were wrinkled in the corner.

“Okay.” You said just above a whisper, slipping into the room.

Once the door behind you shut you let out a loud groan slipping into the cheap pink examination gown they had laid out for you. Hearing the lab desk creak at the slightest touch you climbed up onto it laying backward and scrolling on your phone hoping to desperately dissipate from this place.

You settled into a comfortable position opening Google docs and returning to one of your students essays. You worked as a high school English teacher and last week you had assigned your students to compare a modern tale rather it be from literature or pop culture to the story of Frankenstein. 

You got an array of different essays, some being too bland to be the work of juniors and seniors and others making you cackle at the attempt. But one stood out in particular. Aria Evans—a junior in your A.P English class. She never seized to empress you and this essay comparing the tragic story of Joaquin Phoenix’s joker and Frankenstein almost had you falling off the lab desk at how compelling and complete it was.

Every claim had evidence to back it up, and the diction, boy was her diction strong. Her stance was firm and she supported it from thesis to conclusion.

“Wow,’ you gasped, almost laughing at how perfectly curated her work was.

“Ms. Y/n!” A voice spoke almost sending you into a frenzy.

“Huh?” You lifted up off the desk, completely unaware your doctor had been calling you for some time now.

“Am I,’ Dr. Eleanor coughed. “Am I interrupting something?” She slowly put on her gloves, her hand missing several times.

“Um, no. I’m sorry I was lost in my students work.” You said, biting your nails.

“Right.’ Dr. Eleanor slide over to you in her rolling chair. “Let’s get this show on the road.” She snapped her last glove on.

“Right.” You kissed your teeth together laying back down, hoping the process would be over shortly.

“That was quick,” Eleanor said, flicking at the syringe she held. 

“What was quick?” You said, trying your best to peak down at her but you couldn’t see past your spread legs.

“Just this whole process, I thought it would at least be a year—maybe longer.” She yawned.

You grunted at the feeling of the syringe entering you. “Yeah,’ you shifted uncomfortably. “Me too.” You rolled your eyes, hating every moment of this.

“All—all set.” She slurred slightly.

“That was fast.” You sat up, clutching your bare chest.

“Yeah.’ She sniffled, tossing her gloves out. “Life usually is.”

“Yeah.” You said, watching her slumped form as she grabbed the clipboard. “I’ll send your results at the end of the month.”

“What results?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows together.

Dr. Eleanor laughed. Looking down at her clipboard and suddenly the world around her froze. Her heart began racing and her palms began to sweat. What had she just done?

“Your um, your, pap…pap smear—your pap smear results!” She blurted out louder than intended.

You took in Dr. Eleanor’s form. She did not look alright, her skin was red and almost looked hot to touch and she was sweating profusely.

“Um, oh alright.’ You said, skeptically. “Am I good to go?” You pointed at your folded clothes.

“Yep, I’ll see you in a year!” She waved, slamming the door behind her and running to the lady's room.

Once there she pulled out a sterile syringe and filled it with warm water and made her way to room six with shaky hands. She knew she needed to stop drinking before work—if she hadn’t Chris Evan's sample wouldn’t be walking out of here inside some random woman and she wouldn’t be about to inseminate a woman with warm water instead of her Husband Chris Ellison's sample.

She was just hoping faith was on her side, along with statistics. She knew you only had about a twenty percent chance of getting pregnant and you were young, only thirty years old so there was a chance your body would reject it and you’d take it as a heavy period. God she hoped with every drunk fiber in her bones that ended up being the case.

“Alright, Ellison family.” Her voice warbled. “Are you ready for your insemination?”

—about one month later—

You were not feeling well. Everything you ate you wanted to puke up, and you were seriously starting to regret ordering that sushi takeout last night.

“Never again.” You groaned into your hands.

As the bell rung your A.P English section for juniors started to pile in. You stood up and made your way to the printer gathering your papers as you felt something wet trickle down your face.

You wiped your hand over it pulling it down and taking a look. Sweat? You thought. Why were you sweating? And profusely. You shook it off just like you wanted to do your stomach ache—but that wouldn’t go away.

“Good morning amazing people!’ You greeted your class, getting grumbles or silence in response. You were used to it at this point. “I was thinking today we could go over some SAT techniques for the English portion. I know we aren’t even into our second semester yet, but it’s always good to prepare early, right.” You took a phone from your student Hunter's hand as you walked past.

“So firstly,’ you gaged as you tried to sit in your stool in front of the class. “What you should…what you should.’ You coughed, trying to shake off the dizzy feeling and ignore the floaters that covered your vision.

You stood up from the stool immediately feeling the blood rush from your brain to the bottom of your body leaving your top half numb as your vision was cut off by enormous floaters and you fell to the floor blackness surrounding you.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” Aria shouted, holding onto you as you were passed out on the floor. “Call the front desk!” Aria told her best friend Cayley.

—

You had woken up and immediately noise surrounded your ears. You were no longer in your class room, instead you were in a hospital bed with a bandage on your forehead. Fuck what happened? You thought.

“Y/n,” Vada said, walking into the room. “Thank god.” she hugged you.

You hugged her back. “What happened?” You groaned.

“You passed out at school girl.’ Vada rubbed your back slowly. “The doctors are running some tests right now.”

“Alright.’ Both you and Vada heard a voice come into the room.“Oh hello.’ The doctor said. “Y/n, how’s your head?”

“Um. Fine I guess. Is everything alright with me?” You asked nervously.

“I would say so.’ He rolled over to you. “Blood work is excellent, except one thing we picked up.”

“What, food poisoning?” You chuckled.

“No. Pregnancy.” He said.

“What?” You laughed.

Vada gasped, looking down at you with concern.

“I’m assuming you didn’t know.’ He began.

“Didn’t know what?’ His words echoed through your ears. “I’m not pregnant!” You pleaded, looking between him and Vada as tears began to rim your eyes.

“Blood test are usually extremely accurate, so I don’t see that being possible. If you need time to process, I understand.” He said.

“Time to process what! I’m not pregnant!” You yelled as your voiced cracked. “Do another test, now!” You demanded.

“The only other test we have is a urine test. Would you like that?” He rolled his eyes slightly.

“Yeah I would!” You spat

The doctor shook his head leaving the room. And just as he left the room fell into silence, before Sebastian spoke up.

“Are you seeing someone.” Vada pushed you and spoke barely above a whisper.

“What?” You turned and looked up at her.

Vada smacked her lips and tilted her head. "Are you fucking someone?" She bit her lip doing a weird thrusting motion with her hips.

You scoffed not here for her shenanigans, as a tear fell from your eye. “No, I’m not fucking anyone! Why would you—how could you ask me that!”

“I’m just wondering.” She held her hands up. “Sorry.” She felt bad.

“What the fuck is happening Vads.’ You whimpered into your hands. “I haven’t fucked anyone in months.”

Vada’s face softened as she grabbed your small hand into hers. Vada was also a single mother and had no intentions on letting you go through this alone. “Whatever it is,’ she swiped her thumb over the pad of your hand. “We will figure it out, together.” She smiled softly.

Just then the door swung open as the doctor walked in with two cups. One filled with water and the other empty and stick in his other hand.

“Alright, drink this and pee in this.” He handed you both cups.

“Right,’ you sighed, swallowing the water and getting up to go to the bathroom.

Once you finished peeing you sat back down and the doctor took your cup dipping the stick inside.

“Pink means pregnant.” He pulled the stick out and all you saw was hot pink.

“How?” Your voice cracked. “I haven’t had sex in..in months.”

"Are you sure about that?" The doctor said, leaning into you.

"If she said she's sure, she's sure, asshat." Vada’s nostrils flared.

"Vads." You said softly, grabbing her arm to calm her down. "I...I don't know how this is possible,' You struggled to keep the tears at bay. "I haven't done anything with anyone in so long."

"Maybe it's a medical miracle." You laughed wiping off your tears. "or a hormonal thing."

"Yes, pregnancy hormones.' The doctor said. "Look I can do two things for you, I can leave a message at your gynecologist's office and set you an appointment. And,' He dug into his white coat pocket. "I can give you these." He handed you a vile of two small white pills.

"What are these?" You sniffled.

"Pills to get rid of your miracle baby, if that's your choice." He explained. "You have a few weeks to think on it, Dr. Eleanor should be calling you in a few days."

He walked near the door holding onto the handle and letting his teeth sink into his bottom lip. "Congratulations."

your eyes remained moving rapidly as you try desperately to grapple with your reality. How could be pregnant, there must have been a mistake. Your eyes watered as another tear fell from your eyes.

"Y/n, what are you thinking?" Vada said softly.

"I—nothing.' Your mouth fell open. "I'm so confused."

Vada walked around sitting in front of you, looking deep into your eyes. "I'll support you, no matter what you want to do." she smiled.

You sighed, throwing yourself into her arms. Vada was always there for you and it made your cherish your friendship with her more. "I love you, Jerk." Your mumbled into her slender shoulders.

She hugged you back, pulling you closer to her and sticking her nose into your messy curls. "I love you more, bitch."

— two weeks later—

"Now, Mr. Evans I have requested you here to own up to my mistakes.' Dr. Eleanor said, wiping her clammy hands onto her slacks and avoiding Chris's intense blue eyes.

"What mistake, doc." Chris's leg bounced up and down as he grinned his teeth.

"About two months a go—I...I um,' She coughed. "Accidentally artificially inseminated a woman with your sperm." She spat out the truth.

Chris's ears began to ring and his eyes went wide. "What.' His voice cracked. "Did you just.' He paused, hyperventilating. "Fucking say."

Dr. Eleanor bit the inside of her lip squeezing her eyes shut, wishing it wasn't real. Wishing she hadn't been drunk or that she had payed more attention to her call sheet.

"In—initially I thought I had no reason to tell you. There was only a twenty percent chance she'd get pregnant.' She swallowed hard. "But she did, so."

Chris's back sunk into his seat as his nostrils flared. "She did what?" He knew what it was but he wanted her to say the words.

"She um.' Eleanor hung her head low. "She's pregnant."

Chris slapped his hand on the desk, standing from his seat. "who is she?" Dr. Eleanor jumped back. "Huh?" His Boston accent breaking through.

"I can't tell you that. Legally." Dr. Eleanors voice shook.

Chris rolled his eyes, his hands folding into a fist. "But you could legally get someone pregnant by my sperm! Someone I don't even know!' His blood began boiling by the second. "Someone I don't even trust, someone whose the very reason I came to you!" He yelled.

"You know what," He sucked in a deep breath. "We're done here." He walked towards the door. "You'll be hearing from my lawyers." He slammed the door behind himself.

"Stupid fuck." He spoke to himself as he pulled his phone to his ear. "Yeah, I need your help finding someone—but I don't know where to start."

It took a whole week for his team to find you but they did. Y/N Y/L/N. You were an English teacher at miller high school right here in Chris’s hometown. He had also found out you taught his niece Aria which didn’t help him. At all.

He’d wanted to approach you, get a feel for you. But what would he even say. ‘Hey I’m the guy your pregnant by.’

“We have to be smart about this Chris.’ His manager said to him, fluffing out his hair in the mirror. “You can’t just walk up to the girl and say ‘I’m your baby daddy, oh and by the way my name is Chris Evans and I’m a huge celebrity.” She flailed her arms about.

“I’m not gonna do that. I just want a conversation.” Chris said. “I want to talk to her, see if she’s even still pregnant.”

“And if she’s not?”

Chris sighed. “Then we put it behind us.”

His manager folded her arms, staring at him. “You want this baby, don’t you?” She asked.

“What I want, is to meet her.” Chris tapped danced around this question.

“And you will, just in the right way.’ She said. “I can’t have her leaking this to the press and spinning the story. We’ll right up a contract and give her some hush money.”

“Maybe she won’t say anything.” Chris gave you the benefit of doubt.

His manager scoffed. “Chris, baby. Do you realize who you are? You can look up your net worth online she’ll definitely talk.”

“Well how do I meet her?’ He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“We will find her and set up a meeting, if and only if she signs the contract.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Chris asked.

“Then I guess you won’t be a daddy, now will you.” She tapped his nose with her manicured finger tip.

Chris grabbed her arm. “You can’t do that, it’s not fair to me. or her.”

“Release my Prada.’ She said, feeling Chris loosen his grip. “I’m doing this for you, and your safety.”

“Is this what my protection is going to feel like, hm? Guilt.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll sign. I promise.”

—

The day had ended and it was a miserable one. You couldn’t keep anything down and your head pounded each time the bell rung. All you wanted to do was go home and kick your feet up and sip on some ginger tea.

You packed your bag slowly as a soft knock against your classroom door caught your attention. You turned around furrowing your eyebrows as a women in a pants suit and a man with a briefcase stood at the arch of your doorway.

“Can I help you?” You pushed a curl behind your ear.

“No, but we can help each other.” The woman spoke. “I’m particularly interested in you and the baby you’re carrying, and so is my client.”

You gasped, holding your stomach. “What—who, what do you want.” You said, shielding the thing you currently held in you stomach.

“My client wants to meet you, but I’m not letting that happen until you sign these papers.” She said with a straight face, putting a stack of papers and a pen in-front of you.

“Whose your client?’ You grumbled, looking at the papers.

“Sign and I’ll tell you.”

“Tell me and I’ll sign.”

She laughed, looking you up and down. “You’re a little minx, aren’t you?”

“Who is he?” You pressed further.

She looked down racking through the stack until she found her golden ticket. “Sign this and I’ll tell you, I promise.”

You looked her up and down not knowing if you should trust her. Whoever her client was he had to be big time, and you hoped he wasn’t a mafia boss. You took the pen in your hand hesitantly signing the dotted line.

“Good girl.’ She smiled. “Just letting you know that was an non disclosure agreement and if you speak anything of your pregnancy or who the father is we will hunt your ass down.’ She smiled. “And by we, I mean him.” She pointed to the large man besides her.

Your breathing hitched. “Who, is, he.” You said breathlessly.

“Ever heard of Chris Evans.”

Your eyes clutched together, the name was eerily familiar and you just wish you had a face to match.

“Um I think so, I’m just trying to recall what he looks like.” You said, pulling at your hair.

The woman looked you up and down, clearly not believing you had no clue who Chris was.

“I find that hard to believe.” She snorted. “Meet us at the address Saturday morning, he wants to meet you.”

You picked up the small piece of paper with an address on it. “Fuck.” You whispered.

What the hell were you in for. 

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!