The Happenings In The Art Of Starting Over

The Happenings In the Art of Starting Over

Summary:

James Buchanan Barnes is a broken man who is whisked away to the remote and serene land of Wakanda. His colleagues begin to believe if there is anyone who could try and help him it will be Irene. And try she will. But healing Bucky won't come easy, he is stubborn and scared and wants nothing to do with Irene and her powers. Helping Bucky will be a journey of trials and tribulations, Irene knows that. And yet, she still saunters over to him with a smile.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!Mutant! OC

Word Count:

I do NOT give permission for my work to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. My work is my own.

CHAPTER TWO

Irene preferred the cold. Perhaps that's why she enjoyed sleeping in a tank top, and training in a tank top. She at one point believed in her past lives she was some species of cold-blooded reptilian. Perhaps a gecko, as they too could change shades.

The last week had been horrific. Although she was locked in the compound, Irene hadn't spoken to Wanda. She knew her friend was furious she had signed the accords. Vision claimed Wanda felt discarded by Irene's decision.

But Irene just wanted her to see it from a different perspective. The consequences that came with their continuous freelanced heroism. Ross was right, they were practically vigilantes. And Irene just wanted to do what was best for them all.

But Alas, Wanda hadn't seen it that way, and she wasn't the only one. Of course Tony gloated about the compound knowing his precious Irene has taken his side—Natasha too.

But Irene couldn't ignore that Steve skipped out on their usual morning coffees as she taught him more sign language. Or how Sam slightly chuckled at her jokes now and didn't bellow out like he'd use too. She was observant, her family felt betrayed. But secretly, so did she.

Irene walked into the kitchen. With her presence, Steve and Sam's conversation ceased. She rolled her eyes, this act was getting old. If they had something to say, the could just say it.

"Don't stop on my account.' She spoke up, pulling the eggs from the refrigerator. "Not like I can hear you anyways." She pointed to hear ear lobes that were missing her hearing aids.

"Why don't you have them in.' Steve sat his coffee down, steam still rolling from the lip of the mug.

Irene shrugged, moving from the refrigerator to the seasoning cabinet. "Felt like painting them today." She closed the appliances.

"Isn't that dangerous." Sam said, as she continued to read their lips.

She shrugged once more. "Why do you care, you've barely spoken to me in a week."

Sam scoffed.

"That doesn't mean we don't care." Steve signed.

"I did what i thought was best, for us." Irene signed back, the room suddenly silent.

"So did I." Steve signed again, watching as Sam's eyes drew back and fourth between them.

"You're going to get arrested,' she said this time, letting loose a shaky breath free from her chest. "or worse."

"We will be fine.' Steve said. "It's you I worry about."

"Why?' She frowned. "I'm not the one turning myself into a vigilante and posing as a hero."

"That's how you see us?" Sam interjected.

"Right now, yes! You're being unreasonable and pretending it's an act of selflessness." She glared between them both.

"Irene, cut it out!' Steve shouted. "You wouldn't know selflessness if it fell right in front of you."

Irene stepped back from Steve as her eyes widened then narrowed. She slammed the egg carton down, forgoing her breakfast. Some days she despised being partially deaf. Today, was not one of those days. Because the last thing she wanted to do was hear what Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers had to say as she flounced away.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Irene knew Steve could be stubborn, he was an old man after all. But she never knew he could be so mean. What had she done to deserve being called selfish? Her actions weren't selfish, and even if they were, they were her choices. And she refused to let anyone take that away from her, again.

Irene wiped the teal paint off onto her pants, carefully dipping the paint brush into the acrylic paint. She hadn't had much to do these days, so she decided on a fun project for herself—a distraction she hoped.

She dipped one paint brush into a brownish red shade and painted small flowers over the teal she had coated her hearing aids in. She still remembers the day Tony gave these to her. The moment she had put them in, it had given her life a whole new meaning.

Tony couldn't cure her partial deafness. But with the hearing aids sounds became somewhat coherent, they were just muffled. Nevertheless she could hear what was important, and that's all that mattered.

Without them, an ill ringing noise pieced through the cabinet of her ears. But so many years with that sound, she'd just gotten use to it.

Irene smiled at her hearing aids, blowing on them to give them the extra push they needed to dry. She sat up and readjusted her posture, cringing as she heard her back bones crack. But as her back arched over the top of her desk chair, she saw Friday in the corner of her room flashing red.

She immediately stood up, looking at her door then looking back at Friday's flashing lights. Tony had told Irene why he'd installed the lights for her around this compound and others. And it only meant one thing—danger.

Quickly, Irene slipped on a pair on gym shoes and a sweater. Walking through her bedroom door her eyes widened in fear. Bands of people whisked past her face running away from the foreseen danger down the hall.

Irene watched the hysteria on the faces of those who ran by. She rolled up her sleeves in preparation of what she might face. But before she could round the corner a man was thrown into the glass behind her, shattering it. Splinters of the glass slicing into her calf.

She winced, bending down to assess the wounds. On the floor she was at eye level with a pair of black boots that slowly stalked over to where she was knelt down.

Her eyes slowly peeled up and was met face to face with a man. She'd seen this man before. Not only in Steve's head, but on the news. This man was the winter solider.

Irene was typically the avengers defense. Using her shapeshifting and psionic abilities to distract their enemies. She was not an offensive fighter, and from what she'd heard about the winter solider, she was screwed.

Irene quickly stood up, turning to make a run for it. But it seemed before she could even move, his hands were grappled around her waist. And in a split second she was thrusted above his head and tossed behind him, landing in a pile of glass. She cried out in pain, rolling in the glass as she cradled her side only making it worse.

She used her palm to push herself up from the ground. With slick thinking the outline of her body flashed purple, suddenly changing shades into Steve Rogers. She walked over to Bucky slowly.

"You know me, Buck." She held out her bloody hand, feeling confident in Steve's shape. "It's okay." Her voice was soft.

But that only seemed to anger him as his nostrils flared. He raised his metal arm slapping Irene in the face. She flew backwards, her body doing somersaults in the air until she made a painful landing onto a wooden table. It collapsing when she collided with it.

Steve's facade dissipated, her nose burned and bled. She had no time to react before Bucky's hand was around her neck, squeezing tightly. She clawed at his face, her eyes pouring with tears. Her legs dangled and flapped around like a fish out of water as he lifted her higher into the air.

She didn't know what came over her, rather it was the grace of her maker or just the fear she held inside at this moment. Irene let go, the veins that painted her body suddenly glowed purple along with her eyes.

A new energy emerging within her, she lifted her shaking hands and grasped them onto Bucky's temples almost ritualistically. His blue eyes widened at her warm touch, before his iris's matched the purple which coursed through Irene's body.

And as if she was heavier than a ton of bricks, Bucky dropped to floor along with Irene's body. The world around them settling into black.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Irene gasped, like a baby being born, like it was her first breath. She frantically touched her body. She was wet, and oh so cold. The kind of cold she didn't like. This chill frightened her—like winter.

Irene stood up, her bare feet sloshing around in a freezing pool of water that waded up to her knees. She could have swore she dawned shoes before this.

She shivered pulling her soaking sweater closer to herself as she marched through the water. Suddenly taking in an even stranger part of this harrowing territory. It was black, pitch black. The only source of light seemed to be the one that illuminated her frame and casted onto her like a shadow.

"Hello?" She yelled, the only response was her own.

"Hello!" She tried again, her voice rasping in horror as she trailed along.

"Somebody!" She ran, her legs burning as she pushed through the water. Her eyebrows bunched as the water picked up pace going from still water to a rapid current.

Irene yelped out, tripping and falling face front into the water. Then being pushed through the current. She paddled trying to keep up with the waves.

"Help me, Tony!" She choked on the water that only seemed to get deeper.

She struggled more against the waves, then suddenly her back slapped against a slab of ice. Tears poured down her face as the water drained away, almost as if someone had flushed it out. And now the chill had returned, making Irene tremble, but not from the cold.

She used the ice she had been pinned against to help pull herself up. Her legs wobbled as she was exhausted. She wanted this nightmare—this hell to end. But she would soon find out, it had only begun.

Irene screamed in fright. The cold object was a block of ice and within that a man stuck out, the man who had previously tried to kill her. And suddenly it dawned on her. She was physically inside the mind of the winter solider.

"No." She whispered to herself, falling to her knees.

"No.' Irene clenched her eyes closed, slapping her temple violently. "Snap out of it, Irene! Snap out of it!" She shouted.

But as she opened her eyes, to her gloom dismay she was still there. Still alone with Bucky's frozen body. She didn't know what to do, was this how she died? Or was she already dead and trapped here within his mind.

Irene fell to her knees, cradling herself in defeat. She had never physically brung herself into a mind before. She had only transferred thoughts, dreams and illusions—even nightmares. But this was a first, she felt completely powerless and out of control once more.

She allowed more tears to stream down her face as her throat closed up. And within a brisk moment, something cold, colder than anything she had already been surrounded by rolled onto her feet. It was a chunk of ice, she looked up as her eyes were blurred by the tears that welled in her eyes.

And before her was Bucky, coughing up water. Only he looked different, his body was frail and his hair was short. Irene got up onto her hands and knees, slowly crawling towards him. She didn't speak, she wouldn't be able to hear him without her hearing aids.

The closer she crawled towards him the further he crawled away. It was a game of cat and mouse until she finally opened her mouth.

"I won't hurt you." She said gently.

"Get away from me." His voice was hoarse and agitated.

Irene's eyes focused on his lips. "Please, I'm scared too. I only want to help you."

"There's nothing you can do!" He hollered, punching the remaining ice besides him.

She crawled closer to him. Kneeling before him, as he hide his face within his legs. Slowly, she steadied her hand and placed it onto him.

"I want to try something, if you'll let me." She asked, making sure her eyes were already on his lips as he looked up at her.

"What?" His eyes rimmed with tears, he was just as frightened as her.

"I'll show you." Irene grabbed his hand, her heart pained slightly as she felt Bucky flinch underneath her touch.

Irene closed her eyes, her finger tips pressing into Bucky's temple. They both groaned and trembled in pain. Irene screamed out, her body feeling as if it was being ripped in two. And just as before, she and Bucky laid weightless, their bodies colliding with the cold water. Again the world fading black around them both.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Irene's scream broke through the ceiling of the abandoned warehouse. A set of strong arms wrapping around her as she hyperventilated, unable to stop herself from crying.

"Sam." She gasped for air, her heart rate slowing down.

"It's okay." Sam put Irene's hearing aids in, the world stoped piercing around her. "You're safe."

"Irene." Steve kneeled down in front of her, his body dirty and bruised. "What happened?" He spoke softly as Sam caressed her curly hair.

"I—I don't know how." She took deep breaths, holding her hand against her thumping heart.

She turned around, jumping in fright as Bucky sat discombobulated behind her. His head weaving back and forth, he was just as exhausted as them.

"I got in his head, Steve." She sniffled, pointing at Bucky. "I don't know how, but I was there; It was so cold, and dark."

"What do you mean, you always get in peoples heads?' Sam questioned. "And why are you so wet?" He pulled back from her, observing his now damp clothes.

"That's just it!' She popped up. "My mind wasn't in his head—that I'm use to. It was both my mind and body somehow."

"That's why I'm wet." She peeled off her sweater.

"You try that shit again,' Bucky's voice was as hoarse and agitated as Irene remembered. "It won't take the  words of hyrda for me to hurt you."

"It was an accident." Irene whispered.

"Accident or not, I don't need you in my head. I got enough of that going on." His fist pulled tightly together.

"Buck." Steve sighed, placing his hands on his hips, condemning his best friend.

"No it's fine.' Irene held her hand up. "It was a fluke reaction to you squeezing the life out of me." She pointed to the browning bruises on her neck.

Bucky's head hung low as he shook it back and forth. "Yeah, what else did I do?" He grumbled.

"That doesn't matter," Steve said as Sam wrapped his jacket around Irene. "What matters is Irene pulled you back."

Irene gave Steve a dazed look of bewilderment. "What?" She folded her arms over her small chest.

"Whatever happened between you two, it stopped him on his psychotic rampage." Sam said.

"Oh my gosh.' Irene slapped a hand to her forehead, pacing. "How could I be so stupid." She scoffed.

"What?" Steve questioned her.

"I think I spoke to his subconscious." She revealed breathlessly.

"What does that even mean?" Sam retorted.

Irene took a seat on one of the dusty crates that were scattered about the place. "When I was inside Bucky's mind, there was a version of him.' She began. "And I'm assuming since this Bucky doesn't remember our conversation too vividly, I wasn't necessarily speaking directly to him."

"So you spoke to the parts of his mind not tainted by hydra.' Steve said.

Irene nodded, sighing now. "The parts I believe even they can't get to. Parts only someone like me can."

Bucky's eyes frantically flickered back and forth between both Steve and Irene as they communicated.

"What is she saying." Bucky stood up abruptly, making Irene jump.

"She's just saying she can help you, Buck. Calm down." Steve said as he watched Bucky's chest heave and fall with anger and confusion.

"I should leave," Irene announced as she stared at Bucky who could hardly face her. "Tony's probably running frantic looking for me."

"I'll get her halfway," Sam announced, wrapping his arms around Irene.

"Why only half?" Irene paused their walk.

Steve turned to look at her, his hand still holding Bucky's shoulder. "Because like you said early, we're vigilantes now."

Irene shook her head. She knew this would happen eventually. That in the end, they would all be the architects of their own demise. It was simply fruition now.

BIG FAT FACTS! Your shit says x reader! Yet it’s always worded and described as a very particular type of person or people, just keep it real with your writting TF! That goes for gender neutral too!

The way so many writers claim to be "inclusive" and even go as far as to insert something in text for you to insert you chosen nipple color 😶 and complexion then in the very next paragraph say something like "his favorite color to see you in was pale nude because it matched and blended in with your skin color."

Ummmmmm...

You're not fooling anyone. We know who you had in mind and who you wrote for. 🙄 You only claim inclusivity to draw people in. 😩

It is not hard to be inclusive people, it is actually easier to be inclusive in writing than adding particular descriptors. If you're not comfortable then you should take the opportunity to educate yourselves, something that is also not hard. Information is everywhere in this 2022nd year of our lord or antichrist if that's your thing 🤷🏾‍♀️, I don't judge.

I even saw a Wattpad how to for inclusive writing, and a very detailed WordPress blog post all about it.😲. Like come on now! Stop inclusive baiting only to disappoint, frustrate and annoy the reader and step it up to the bare minimum at least.

😫😫 This concludes my unexpected rant.

You don't like it scroll by.

You feel triggered then this applies to you, level up.

You have the same thoughts, love to see it!

You wanna go back and forth and fight over who is right, go ahead and catch this block and hold that L. I know I'm right. 🤷🏾‍♀️

nsfw

Frank pounding and letting all his frustration out on you -⚡️

yes please yes please yes please

The Happenings In the Art of Starting Over

Summary:

James Buchanan Barnes is a broken man who is whisked away to the remote and serene land of Wakanda. His colleagues begin to believe if there is anyone who could try and help him it will be Irene. And try she will. But healing Bucky won't come easy, he is stubborn and scared and wants nothing to do with Irene and her powers. Helping Bucky will be a journey of trials and tribulations, Irene knows that. And yet, she still saunters over to him with a smile.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!Mutant! OC

Word Count:

I do NOT give permission for my work to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. My work is my own.

CHAPTER ONE

Irene's feet and back ached unnaturally. It seemed there wasn't enough medicine in the world for her to shake the feeling. After the mission in Logos, and Irene's failed attempt at saving civilians from a burning building. She was left with a seared back, and could only assume that's why she had been sleeping for almost two days straight.

Irene made her way down the marble steps in which she despised. Mentioning to Tony on more than one occasion that it was definitely a safety hazard. Anyone not barefoot would easily meet their demise at this bottom of the stair case.

Eventually her silent travel through the hallway of the compound was cut short and suddenly trampled over with a mixture of angry voices. One of them she could point out immediately. It was that of Tony Stark.

The conference room was in complete shambles. Even the air felt divided. Cap stood beside Sam with scrawls on their faces. Vision comforted Wanda as her chest rose and fell heavy with guilt. Nat tried to talk Tony out of being childish and advocated for him to listen to his teammates.

Irene walked in, shutting the door behind herself. The click of glass causing the commotion to decease. Everyone's eyes on her now.

"Ah, you're awake!' Rhodes stood up from his chair "Irene would you please tell Cap he's lost his mind." He proceeded to slap Steve's shoulders with his heavy hand.

Irene eyed Tony, whose fingers spread wide and made a peak whole for him to see through. "What's going on here?" She signed to him.

"Well.' Tony stood up, adjusting his suit. "As you may know while we were too busy kicking ass and taking names. We ended up killing and injuring hundreds of Logos civilians.' He said sarcastically as Irene intently focused on his lips.

"But that's just another avengers game day average." He drawled.

"I know, I was there." Irene's eyes fell to her feet.

"Get to issue, Stark." Cap grumbled, taking a seat.

"The issue is we're under jurisdiction now.' Tony grabbed a thick unfamiliar stack of papers along with a pen, passing it to Irene.

Slightly air brushed against her face as she flipped through the pages of the accords. "Jurisdiction?' Irene questioned. "I don't understand?" She sat the papers down.

"We'll allow me to assist with that." Secretary Ross pushed open the glass doors. Interrupting the avengers and their trivial arguing .

"Good morning, Irene.' He smiled slightly, closing the door behind himself. "Glad to see your well and walking."

"Something like that." Irene muttered, taking a seat besides Wanda and Vision.

"You okay?' She intruded Wanda's mind probing the question.

Wanda just sighed and closed her eyes, reaching out for Irene's hand. Irene intertwined their fingers.

"You'll be okay, everything will be okay." She thought, knowing Wanda could hear her.

Secretary Ross cleared his throat with a cough, while adjusting his tie. "Obviously I didn't come here today to reward you all with a pizza party."

Sam laughs at this. Ross glares at him, coughing once more.

"I'm here today to discuss those big white stacks of papers.' He pointed to the accords that were scattered about in various parts of the room. "I can now see you've all had a chance to observe them." He eyed Wanda.

"Why don't you just tell us what you really want from us." Cap spat out, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest.

"Well, Captain. I want to do what every great business man wants. I want to sell it to you." He grabbed a stack of the accords along with a pen. "And if you like, sign it." He pushed the documents, Irene watched them slide across the smooth wooden table, stopping directly in front of Steve Rogers.

"If not, you'll find out." He winked.

"If we sign this we give up our right to choose, don't you see that." Sam said.

"Yeah and every-time we've chosen more people wind up dead rather than saved." Rhodes inserted, talking directly to Sam.

"Well then we workout a better civilian casualty prevention plan before we strike!" Sam escalated.

"We've tried that before, bird costume!' Tony shouted. "And it still nearly landed Irene dead!" He pointed at her back bandages that were visible through her black tank top.

Wanda winced, her hand slipped from Irene's immediately. Not even able to look at her friend as her head held low in shame.

"Stop it.' Irene spoke up while signing. "You're scaring her." She pointed at Wanda.

"She should be scared, you all should.' Ross began. "You and Wanda are two of the countless enhanced individuals out there. If not used properly your powers can reek havoc. Logos made that obvious." He clicked a button on a remote which illuminated a screen behind him.

"Sokovia—New York.' He sighed, flipping through graphic photos of collapsed buildings and civilian casualties. "Do we really want the list to expand? Hero's are meant to save people, not hurt them."

Irene sighed closing her eyes. Had she been a bad hero all this time? Was she doing more harm than good. When Tony found her at the tender age of thirteen she knew what she could do, the afghan military had been using her for years.

Making Irene shape shift into political leaders, generals, or even regular people to foil out their plans—whatever they may be. She got into peoples mind and scrambled them around a bit. She was the personification of fear when she was a prisoner to them.

But when Tony freed her, a switch went off. She vowed only to use her powers for good. She would be the only one in charge of how she used them and when.

She would use them to protect, not harm. And if she was doing this, If she was indeed causing harm unintentional or not. Irene felt she needed to be rectified.

"So what does that say about us?" She whispered.

"What?" Wanda responded to Irene's whisper, facing her now.

Irene's eyes glossed over in fear, a tear daring to fall. "He's got a point Wanda, if we're the problem—shouldn't we be the solution?"

Wanda scoffed, pushing past vision and Irene. "I can't do this." She sniffled, holding herself tight as she left the room

Secretary Ross kissed his teeth together and shook his head. "Reality is often disappointing.' He walked the room, sauntering closer to the door. "Take a day or two to thing about it. And by a day or two, I mean by tomorrow." He closed the door, biding the avengers goodbye.

"Well, that went smoothly." Rhodes sighed.

The day sauntered on slowly. And Wanda hadn't spoke to Irene for the better part of it. Not aloud and not within her mind either. Irene paced back and forth outside of Wanda's bedroom door.

She had already tried to enter Wanda's mind, but she figured she had been caught and cut off from entry from now on.

"Wanda?' She knocked lightly on the door. "Please let me in."

Wanda grumbled, throwing the pillow off her face and onto the ground. She lifted her hand and flicked open the door with a swoosh of red energy.

"What!" She spat, her eyes flashing scarlet red.

Irene's eyes widened. "I'm sorry.' She said. "I didn't mean to upset you, can I come in?" Irene said calmly.

Wanda's eyes softened. She could never truly stay mad at Irene, she just hand that affect on Wanda.

"Fine." Wanda grumbled, stepping aside allowing Irene in. "Stop smiling, I can feel it." She closed the door.

"Why?" Irene signed with a frown.

Wanda crossed her arms over her chest, watching Irene get comfortable on her bed. "Because it's disgustingly adorable, and you're not my favorite friend right now."

Irene giggled. "I can't help that you think I'm adorable." She signed toward Wanda with a smug smile.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Stop.' She signed assertively. "Im upset with you."

"Are you actually going to side with Secretary Ross? You know he is mainly targeting you and I." She signed some more.

The fluid motions of her ASL impressed Irene. She couldn't help but smile although she was being lectured by the witch.

"I—I'm not sure yet.' She tossed herself back onto Wanda's pillows. "Are you sure he's targeting just us?" Irene questioned.

Wanda tugged her long brown hair, a disgruntled look painted on her face as she stared Irene down.

"Irene, you and I can take out all of them with just our minds." She said.

"Also bear in mind, I can make a pen float, and you can change into anything you desire.' She sat besides Irene. "Do you really think Ross isn't after us? That he isn't afraid?"

"Are you afraid?" Irene raised an eyebrow. "I can feel your fear."

Wanda stood up, folding her arms over her chest and bringing her purple cardigan closer to herself. "Then you would already know I'm terrified.' She sighed. "I'm a monster, and I don't need a stack of papers solidifying that for me."

"No.' Irene's voice cracked as she slowly shook her head. "You're not a monster, you'd never hurt anyone."

"Irene I killed all those people in Lagos! I nearly killed you from the flames! How can you say I'm not a monster?" She shouted, tears flooding her eyes.

"If you think that way, shouldn't you at least give the accords a try?" Irene prosed.

"For girls like you and I, the accords is one step closer to locking us away—and that's what they really want. They just won't say it." Wanda opened her door with her red magic.

Irene's head dipped into the crook of her chin, she knew what Wanda wanted. She sighed slowly leaving the room, shutting the door behind herself.

Wanda was right, Secretary Ross was afraid of their abilities. But maybe that was all the reason she should be confined. How could she be a true hero if people were afraid of her. She didn't want to cause a riff, but when she became an avenger she made allegiance to the people of this planet and others. And she refused to let them down again.

What To Expect When You're Not Expecting (5)

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!, TALK OF SU*C*DE, TALK OF DMV! BE WARNED!

Note: Thank you for all the love so far! It means the world!

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

Series Masterlist

divider by: @firefly-graphics

Right me an ask to join the taglist!

(The reader is nearing five months pregnant, it’s giving WandaVision speed lmao. Chris is a proud PAPAya)

You hadn’t spoken to Chris in a week, and it was another week he couldn’t see his child grow. It wasn’t like he was off in another state filming a movie. In fact, he was here in Boston filming Defending Jacob, so he had nothing but opportunities to see you and the baby. But you hadn’t wanted that, ignoring his calls and text. He knew he messed up asking your such personal questions. But he just wanted to help if he could.

So now on his day off work, he found himself walking up to your apartment with a bouquet of flowers and a pack of ginger ale. He truly hoped you would accept his peace offering—he also hoped your love for ginger ale wasn’t conditional to your pregnancy.

Chris adjusted his hoodie and hat, coughing before he knocked on your apartment door. From the other side he heard stampering, and before he knew it the door flew wide open and so did his eyes. The girl before him looked just like you, only shorter and not pregnant. His eyebrow rose as she chewed on a Twix bar, pulling at the carmel that fell from the bar while she stared him down.

“You gonna say anything, or do you just stare?” She burped causing Chris’s face to scrunch up.

“Um?” He coughed, peaking at the apartment doors number, yup still 338. “Am I at the right apartment?”

“You’re at the right place.’ She looked Chris up and down. “Y/n just taking her thirtieth bathroom break of the day.” She turned, walking away leaving the door wide open.

“Are you going to come in, or are you just going to stand there like a pedophile?” She wandered into the kitchen.

Unsure, Chris stepped inside, closing the heavy wooden door behind himself. “And you are?” He asked, following behind the girl. He watched as she pounced onto the counter, digging into a pint of moose tracks ice cream.

She laughed, kicking her legs. “I’m, Sarah. Y/n’s younger sister. Who are you?” She pointed at him with her spoon.

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but Sarah beat him to the chase. “Wait. Don’t tell me,’ she laughed, rubbing her chin. “You’re the baby daddy, Chris Evans. My roommates fucking obsessed with you.”

“Well, thanks.’ He chuckled awkwardly, placing the flowers down on the counter.

“Want some?” Sarah held her a spoonful of ice cream out in front of Chris’s mouth.

“I’m good.” Chris quickly declined.

“Your loss.” She jumped of the counter. “Y/N, GET OUT HERE—YOUR BABY DADDY IS HERE!” She shouted down the small hallway of your apartment.

Y/n stepped out of the bathroom, here brown eyes glaring at Chris’s blue ones as she emerged from the darkness of the hallway. Although he hadn’t known her long, her eyes always conveyed so much. And right now, they told him to get the hell out of her house. Which was nice by the way.

It was small and cozy, a blend of modern and almost Victorian style furniture with nice hints of pastels and neutrals blending together. A candles wick flickered in the background making the apartments living space smell immaculately . Chris was almost jealous of this place.

“What do you want?” You stuck your nose in the air, slouching back on her sofa.

Chris sighed, grabbing the flowers and walking around to your sofa. He took a seat behind you, placing the flowers on your dark brown coffee table.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for prying, it wasn’t fair for me to drop those questions on you. Especially without your permission.” He said softly.

“Yeah, apologize as you should.” Sarah leaned over the top of the sofa, staring Chris down. “Digging into our personal shit like you’re Derek Morgan from Criminal Minds. Have several seats, Captain Underpants.” She rolled her eyes.

“Sarah,” you popped your little sisters lip. “Go away.”

Sarah smacked your hand back in retaliation, and you could have sworn you hear Chris stifle out a laugh. You glared at them both.

“Go away.” You growled at her, watching her step into the kitchen. “Further.” You pointed in the direction of her bedroom.

“Sorry.” You rubbed your eyes finally addressing Chris. “What did you want again.” You yawned, snuggling into your heated blanket more.

Chris smiled, looking at your ever growing belly, glowing skin, and messy hair. He liked that you were still intact with the child in you, some of your hair strands being dyed pink. Even with this ordeal and everything you’d been through, you still had an innocence about yourself, and that was more than he could say for others he had met.

“Right.” Chris emerged from the trance you seemed to put him in. “I just wanted to give you these and apologize.” He pointed toward the flowers.

“I hate the smell of flowers.” You blurted. Chris sat dumbfounded, what kind of girl hated the smell of flowers.

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,’ you got up and headed to the kitchen with your flowers in hand. “I guess they’ll make a cute center piece, until they die.” You plucked away at one of the red rose petals.

“Right.” Chris frowned, not sure how to take your response. He was walking on egg shells here.

“I accept your apology, by the way.” You flicked on the kitchen sink, pouring water into a clear purple vase.

“Really?” Chris beamed.

“Yeah,’ you trimmed the ends of the flowers, tossing them in the vase. “I guess you should know about how fucked up your child’s grandfather is, right?” You said. “How he almost killed me and the rest of my family.”

Chris’s heart pained hearing that. The thought that you could have been killed as a young girl, struck him deeply. How could someone who said he loved you do such horrid things.

“I’m really sorry about that, Y/n.” Chris grabbed your shoulder giving it a light squeeze.

“If you’re so sorry.’ Sarah’s head popped around the corner, followed by the rest of her body. “Cook us some dinner, I’m starved.”

You laughed, feeling your own belly rumble. “It’s only fair.” You shrugged.

“And we want pasta.” Sarah demanded.

Chris could tell the two of you were nothing alike. He shook his head, finally giving in to cooking for the two of you. Not that he had any other plans.

“Fine.” He smiled. “But I only know how to make Alfredo.”

—

Chris had been cooking for around thirty minutes, and you’d been staring at his back for the better half of it. And boy did he have a great back, but that wasn’t what most of your thoughts were consumed by. It was mostly consumed by the fact that he never rejected you, not even for a split second. You went through a denial phase of the pregnancy, wanting to end it all. But Chris never seemed to want that.

“Chris.” You spoke up.

He turned around looking at you, almost signaling for you to speak.

“Why do you want this baby so bad?” You bite into a banana.

Chris stopped stirring the Alfredo sauce. Putting the wooden spoon you had provided down. “Why do you ask?”

“What, i can’t ask thought provoking questions too?” You walked around the counter, standing directly in front of him now. “Why did you want this.” You pointed at the bump.

Chris shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve always wanted a family.”

“No, there’s more to that story. Everyone wants a family, a village to come home to.” You explained.

“Well maybe that’s just it.” Chris turned around, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. “Maybe I’m tired of coming home to an empty house, it’s been just me and dodger for the pass five years. Maybe I want more, Y/n.”

You sighed, and there it was. He was lonely. “I get that. Thank you for being honest.” You smiled.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled, turing back to the sauce.

“So you think this baby will be enough for you?” You asked.

“I know it will, and so will you.” He said back.

Your heart fluttered at that sentiment, you think you were staring to love your accidental family just a little bit more each and every day—and that included Chris.

—

Chris’s dinner was, interesting, to say the least. It wasn’t bad, but it was stellar either. Not that you were going to tell him that. But Sarah on the other hand. She had a mouth for anyone and anything.

“Did you season this?” She asked with a perplexed face

“Yes? Is it not to your standard, Queen Sarah.” Chris sassed her back.

Sarah scoffed. “Don’t get smart.” She frowned at him.

He put his hands up in defense, wiping the corners of his mouth. “Y/n? Your thoughts?”

You looked up, playing with the noodles. “Um, it’s cute.” You said quietly, hearing Sarah burst into a fit of giggles.

“Cute?” He said, narrowing his blue eyes.

“I mean,’ you stammered over your words. “Never mind, it’s great.” You lied to him, watching his face soften.

“Well, thank you,’ he coughed. “I actually have something to ask you.” He said.

“That’s funny,” Sarah interjected. “I was gonna ask you something to.”

Chris subtly rolled his eyes. “What is, Sarah?”

She smirked. “What’s it like to be famous? And what made you want to honker down and have this baby with my fabulous sister?”

“Being famous isn’t what everyone thinks. It’s not all glitz and glamour, it’s hard work too.”

“I bet.” She took a sip of her drink. “And my sister?” She nudged you.

Chris looked at you and then the baby, a glimmer of something you couldn’t explain was in his eyes. “I just—I don’t know I feel comfortable around your sister, and I’m in a position where I can take care of both of them. Relationship or not, I guess.” He mumbled.

“It’s not conventional,’ you gave his hand a pat. “But it’ll work.” You smiled.

“Aw, how cute!” Sarah said sarcastically. “So you know Sebastian?” She immediately changed the subject.

You giggled, spitting out your ginger ale a bit. “Stop.”

“No, don’t do that!’ Sarah laughed. “You should have seen what she was saying about him.” She told Chris

“You know Sebastian?” Chris grabbed his glass confused.

“No, I don’t. But after I found out who you were I kind of went on a stalking binge with Sarah on the phone, we found Sebastian. And I don’t know, he’s cute.” You smiled, before taking another sip.

alright, Chris didn’t know if he should be jealous. According to everyone he was just your baby daddy. But something about the woman carrying his baby finding his best friend ‘cute’ bothered him, badly.

“Hm, yeah well Sebastian’s a sweetheart.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Maybe he can be your next celebrity baby daddy, Y/n.” Now it was Chris’s turn to spit of his drink.

“Sorry.” Chris said as everyone’s eyes were on him, he wiped himself off with a napkin avoiding the girls eyes.

“You good bro?” Sarah asked, ripping off another piece of paper towel and passing it to him.

“Yeah.’ He coughed once more. “I’m fine.”

“But y/n,’ Chris carried on. “I was thinking we should plan for a baby shower.”

“Oh,’ y/n gasped.

“I mean if that okay with you?” He added.

“Yeah, it’s great. It’s just, I don’t have much family to bring. It’ll just be Sarah and Vada.” You told him.

“That’s ok.’ He smiled. “My family has been dying to you meet you.”

“Okay.“ you nodded.

“Good. When should we start planning?” Chris asked, pulling out his calendar.

“Are you opening your calendar?” Sarah laughed.

“Sarah, stop he’s busy. And next week should be fine, Chris.”

“Hopefully not too busy for the baby.” She grumbled underneath her breath, Chris hears her and glares.

“Never too busy.” He replied with a different look for both girls. “Next week is perfect Y/n.”

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Hi! I’m working on the next part to ‘what to expect when you’re not expecting.’ It’s just challenging me a little more creatively than I thought!