Can You Link Your Master List If You Have One?

Can you link your master list if you have one?

Hi! I currently don’t have one. Should I make one??

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 (2)

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

You looked down at your sweaty palms as you rode the elevator up to the one and only penthouse of the address you had been given. This luxury Boston complex was one you’d never thought you’d be able to see the inside of, until now.

You were still grappling with the idea of being newly pregnant in the most unconventional way and by the most unconventional person imaginable. You sat by your beside all Friday evening looking up pictures of Chris, watching his talk show interviews and looking at his socials. You also sat at your bed side looking at the tiny vile of pills. Something in you wanted to chug them and leave this whole thing behind you, this whole nightmare. But another part of you wanted this—whatever this was.

The elevator dinged snapping you from your thoughts. You took in a deep breath. Walking toward the one and only door that existed on this floor. You walked towards the door not even getting a chance to knock on the heavy wood before it swung open revealing the blonde woman from yesterday.

“Hi little minx.” She smiled. “Come In.” She ushered you through the doors.

You gasped, looking around at the beautiful Boston penthouse. It was ten times the size of the tiny studio you rented.

“Beautiful isn’t?’ You nodded, not sure if you should speak or not. “I’m sure you’ll get a tour once you deliver that bundle of joy.”

You held your still flat belly, although you did feel a bit of resistance when you bent down lately. You hadn’t realized how fast the thing was developing. You hadn’t even fully committed to having this baby and she already expected you to bring his baby to full term.

“This way.’ She held the small of your back, pushing open a door which led into a large conference room.

The room was filled by a long black table the stretched its length. You were sat into a chair opposite from the other head of the table. The room occupied a few people that you discovered were other members of Chris’s team—including the burly man from Friday.

“So.’ His manager spoke up. “How far along are you?” She slipped into the firm leather desk chair besides you.

You stiffened, the continued reminder that you have a living being inside of you put your breathing to a halt. “I’m—I’m not—I don’t know.” You stammered, trying to find your words.

“Add that to the terms of the agreement, Skylar.’ She snapped at a woman, whose laptop was wide open along with her eyes.

Skylar typed away, pushing her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose.

“What?” You asked confused. “You’re making me sign terms of agreements?”

“Well obviously.” She laughed. “Did you think you could just get pregnant by Chris Evans and not sign any papers?”

Your nostrils flared and tears began to inflame your eye rims. “I didn’t get pregnant by Chris Evans.” You tried to hold your composure.

Olivia, his manager leaned in. Her breath grazed against your ears. “You’re right. As far as I’m concerned you’re just a surrogate.’ She pulled back, caressing your lower belly softly. “And I need you to take good care of Chris’s baby for the next nine months.”

You kissed your teeth together. “How about I just fucking end it? Hm.’ You chuckled standing up. “I’m out of here, tell your client he’s going to have to jerk off over a tube again!” You shouted, pushing out of your chair and heading towards the door.

“Is there a problem?” A voice said. One you had grown to know over the last few hours.

“Chris.” Olivia gasped, hoping he hadn’t heard your outburst. “She was just going for a drink of water.” She lied.

“No, I was just leaving.” You whipped around wiping your eyes with your palms.

You turned around and there you saw them for the first time. His blue eyes sweep over your body in awe. He couldn’t believe you were here, holding his baby. He wanted to reach out and touch your belly, get to know you, and discuss baby names. But he couldn’t, not yet. He needed a veil of protection and his team wouldn’t let that happen without one.

“You must be Y/n.’ He choked out finally, walking over to you. “I’m Chris.” He stood before you, towering over your frame, holding his large hand out for a shake.

You looked at his hand, staring completely frozen. You weren’t sure how much time had passed while his hand had just stood there, almost growing desperate for a shake.

“So you’re Chris Evans?” You ignored his hand shake, sitting down.

“Yeah.” Chris frowned, walking to the opposite side of the table and taking a seat. “I’m sorry about this.”

You scoffed. “Which this? The this that I’m pregnant this? Or the this that I didn’t know I needed my own team of attorneys this?” Your hands shook and you we’re just ramping up. “Or maybe the this that I’m just a fucking surrogate and you’re gonna take whatever this.’ You motioned to your stomach. “Is from me when it’s over.”

Chris’s jaw dropped, he could have only expected your were taking the pregnancy just about as good as he was, which wasn’t well. He knew you hadn’t fucked him and he hadn’t slipped up and gotten you pregnant. You were just a woman who got caught up in another woman’s drunken mistake.

“Y/n.’ Chris began. “You’re not a surrogate.”

“Yeah, well tell that to sinister Olivia Pope here.’ You pointed at his manager. “Having me sign all this shit when I’m fucking alone is low.’ You scoffed, your hormones doing the talking. “I should have expected that from a celebrity though—making it all about you.”

Now Chris was starting to get turned off. You didn’t even know him and were already assuming just like a majority of people did.

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.”

Chris pursed his lips together rocking back and forth in his seat. Shutting up and letting his team do the rest of the talking.

“Before we start, do you have any questions Ms. y/l/n?” His lawyer began, licking the pad of this thumb and filling through some papers.

“Nope.” You turned your head, rocking in your seat as a lone tear slipped down your cheek.

“Okay.’ He muttered, feeling slightly bad for you. He sat a pen down besides your hand. “Here I just have the terms of agreements and the second non disclosure agreement, all the important bits are highlighted in yellow for you. Just sign the spots I highlighted in pink.”

You shook your head looking down at the tiny printed words you didn’t understand. Your face scrunched up and your lips warbled and more fast-paced tears you tried to keep up with fell. “I don’t know what any of this is saying.” You croaked.

Chris’s lawyer knew he was supposed to be on his side. But the room was silent and almost everyone had the same feeling in their stomach. Guilt. Especially Chris. He knew his team was just protecting him, but they were really screwing you, and he saw that now and you had every right to be pissed off, confused, and scared in this moment.

“Okay.’ Chris’s lawyer said. “I can help you read through some of it.” He rolled over to her in his desk chair. He took his pen to the paper, looking up at her tearful clouded eyes his stomach sinking more. If it was up to him he’d just make her sign one piece—she just couldn’t talk to the media.

But it wasn’t up to him. Olivia had drafted most of this for Chris’s own protection, and he wasn’t even sure the extent that Chris knew about it.

“This here is basically saying you won’t speak to any media or press about the pregnancy. If you do Chris has the right to sue you.’ He started, you shook your head up and down.

“Understandable.’ You sniffled, signing the line.

He shook his head. “Okay. Here just says.’ He paused making sure he read that with as much empathy as he could muster. “That after a successful full term pregnancy the baby will go to the Evans family, and you’ll be given money in return.”

You winced hearing that. Of course you hadn’t been the most ecstatic about your untimely pregnancy by one of Hollywood’s biggest celebrity. And yes you had nights where you wanted to terminate it and put this behind you. But the idea of feeling this baby grow for nine months and bonding with it and only having it to be taken away broke your heart. Chris Evans was two faced. He was a monster who was breaking your heart.

“What?” Your voiced warbled. “N—no…no!” You shouted, holding your lower belly. “I’m not going to just give this—the baby away, my baby! Because this is my baby too!’ Your voice strained.

Chris felt like shit. And he had now for the last thirty minutes he had watched you fall apart in fear. This was the last thing he wanted for your first meeting and you now undoubtedly hated him. And for good reason, the terms were too outrageous. He couldn’t take care of a newborn all alone, he figured some co-parenting would be set in place. But full-on taking this baby from a woman who hadn’t done anything wrong felt like vilification.

“Don’t sign that.’ He spoke up, fury lining his eyes.

“What?” Olivia looked at him. “Chris. Don’t.”

“No Liv, you don’t.’ He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why would you even draft something so insane like that?” He grumbled.

“Because we don’t even know her.” Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, and she doesn’t even know me!’ Chris said looking at you, your teary eyes pulling away immediately. “This is more about your trust issues than mine. Don’t sign that Y/n, please. I don’t want to take your—our baby away from you.” He said.

You could feel the warmth of his words from where you sat, but you still refused to look at him. It was too overwhelming and the last thing you need was to be melted by those Hollywood blue eyes you had looked into all night on your computer screen.

“Chris don’t do this.’ Olivia reached her hand out and placed it onto of his boiling one. “I’m protecting you.”

“Is this what my protection looks like?’ His heart clenched as he heard you sniffle once more.

“Can I have a moment?” You stood up, wiping your eyes again.

“Yes, of course.” Chris’s lawyer coughed adjusting his tie.

Everyone watched as you slipped out of the room, crying profusely. Chris turned in his chair, shaking his head at Olivia.

“Was your goal to embarrass her?” He looked over at Olivia.

Olivia rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated groan. “No my goal is to be your manager and you’re making my job hard by caring about this nobody.” She pointed to your empty seat.

“She’s not a nobody, Liv!’ He shouted, standing up. “She’s the mother of my child for goodness sake! It doesn’t matter how unconventional or accidental it was. This wasn’t her fault and I won’t make her feel that way! I won’t scare her any more than you already have!” His Boston accent made an appearance, it always did when he was home enough—or angry enough.

“Now excuse me.” Chris walked out of the room, slamming the door behind himself.

He shook his head, walking over to his kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He drank it wondering where you had gone—probably to the bathroom to cry more and he felt awful just thinking about it.

“Fuck.’ He said to himself, rinsing his cup out and placing it back in the cabinet. When he shut the cabinet door he noticed you.

You were outside on the balcony of his penthouse. The fall breeze whipped through your thick curly hair as you sat on one of the couches looking at the city behind you as the sun began to set.

Chris swallowed, walking toward the glass sliding door and opening it. You noticed him, turning around then turning your attention back to the Boston skyline. Chris sighed, you definitely hated him.

He coughed taking slow steps toward you. He still couldn’t believe you were here carrying the child he had always wanted. It was still the strangest miracle for him.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hi.’ You spoke meekly.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” He slide his hands in his pockets, walking closer to you.

“Yeah.’ Another tear escaped you.

Chris winced seeing that. “I’m sorry Y/n. I didn’t know all that was going to be thrown at you.’

“I’m sure you didn’t.” You chuckled, wiping your eyes and finally looking at him.

Chris took a seat besides you, making sure to keep his distance. “I didn’t. I would never want to take this from you.”

“What would you do if I got rid of it?” You said coldly. "The baby."

Chris stomach dropped, he knew about your little white pills and if he was honest he wanted to break into your home and flush them down the toilet. “You wouldn’t, right?”

You picked at the callouses on the inside of your hands. “I’m not sure, I’ve thought about it.”

“Please don’t.’ Chris begged. “I want this.”

“I don’t know what I want.” You stood up.

Chris grabbed your hand gently, sending a shockwave down your body. “Please Y/n, think about it.”

“I have been thinking.’ You removed his hand from yours, cutting off the transmission of electricity you felt.

“What can I do to make this better.” He stepped in front of you, his eyes melting into yours.

You bit your lip, pulling your cardigan tightly against your body as the breeze was becoming too much. “I—I don’t know.” You sighed, walking away and leaving Chris alone on his balcony.

—

It had been two days since the whole ordeal at Chris’s and you had signed as much as you could before you felt like you were signing your soul away. You slipped into your bed, feeling your phone buzz besides you.

Sighing you grabbed it flipping it over. You saw a notification from Instagram and quickly you opened it. You saw that Chris had followed you and sent you a DM. Hesitantly you opened it.

The blue glow of your screen illuminating your eyes and dark room. Your eyes scanned over his words your heart beating with each line.

“Hey, Y/n I'm sorry if finding your Instagram is weird, but I needed to speak to you. I was wondering if this weekend you’d like to meet up for some coffee? Just you and I and we talk one on one. If that sounds good to you just hit me back on here. Hopefully, your day was well :).

God, maybe he wasn’t as two-faced as you thought. You sighed closing your phone and staring off into the darkness of your room. You didn’t want to think about the baby anymore or Chris and his fucked management team. And the little white pills were starting to light up like a beacon of hope as they illuminated on your bedside.

it was a two-step process, and you'd never have to see Chris again.

But was that what you wanted?

-

taglist:

@fairlygothparents @roguediorxoxo @jackiekae @shhhchriss

@avocados128 @azenpalnpal @rookiemartin

"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

hi i was wondering if i could be added to your taglist for chris evans ❤️

LOVE your work so far

Yes of course! Thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️

pls make one!!

Okay I will!