#chris evans x single mom!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pagesoflauren · 2 years

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House of Stone (1/5)

feat. professor!Andy Barber x student!single mom!reader

Premise: Spin-off/sequel to Wooden Façade; Settling into his new life as a bachelor, Andy is helping his brother Ari prepare for his wedding to their mother's former nurse. Between wedding planning and teaching, you enter his life and your eccentric one-year-old daughter catches his attention.

Warnings: mentions of sudden deaths, divorce, familial conflicts, spousal conflicts, pregnancy, and Parkinson's disease; Laurie Barber slander; teacher-student friendship; romantic/sexual tension; awkward and cringey moments; blind dates/blindsiding siblings (Ari is a menace to Andy); Andy wears glasses and is a hot professor

A/N: Important to note that the events of Defending Jacob do not occur before, during, or after this series. Andy and Laurie are divorced and Jacob lives with Laurie.

Thank you as always to @eightcevanscentral

Read Wooden Façade here

Main Masterlist

“Ari, I hope you realize we’ve been talking about ties for the past forty-five minutes,” Andy deadpans, still holding his green-colored grading pen between his fingers. In his other hand, he holds up his phone so that he can clearly see the different options in front of his brother as he facetimes him from the store.

“Can you blame me?” comes Ari’s reply, “I have no fuckin’ clue what I’m doing.”

“You’re looking for the one that speaks to you.”

“Ties don’t talk.”

“That’s not–” Andy clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“A dumbass that’s getting married,” Ari says, switching from the back camera to the front camera.

“God help the bride.”

“Hey!”

“You know what I meant,” Andy laughs. “Are you sure she didn’t give you specific options for which one to buy?”

Andy’s treated to an unflattering view of his brother as Ari moves his phone down to get a better look at the screen. The camera turns off and Andy can hear the sound of Ari’s finger tapping heavily against the screen.

“She just said get one that’s ‘cabernet.’ Is that a type of brand?”

Andy facepalms. “No, that’s a shade of red. A dark red. Which, given that your wedding is in December, makes sense.”

The camera turns on and Andy can see straight into Ari’s nose.

Andy makes a sound of disgust, “You need to start bringing handkerchiefs with you.”

Ari adjusts how he’s holding the phone and turns the camera to face the table with all his options. “Nobody asked you to look, Andy.”

“Nobody asked me, but I wasn’t given a choice.”

Andy watches Ari pick up three ties that he thinks are the right shade.

“You think any of these would work?”

Tilting his head, Andy figures they’re a good fit. “Probably. Maybe you should just buy all three and see what the missus thinks.”

His brother hums.

“Are you making that stupid face that you always do when you think of her?”

“Maybe.”

Andy gags exaggeratedly.

“Shut up,” Ari hisses.

Rolling his eyes, Andy rebuttals, “You know I’m kidding.” Then, he changes the subject. “Anyway, those are good options. And you’ll know what she thinks when you get home.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, either she’ll tell you which one is the best or she’ll say the both of you will have to go back to the store together and she’ll tell you which tie you’ll wear.”

“You’re right.”

Andy changes the subject quickly. “Well, on that note, I should sign off. I have class in fifteen minutes so I should head over there.”

Ari flips the camera to show his face and say goodbye to his brother. When they hang up, Andy puts his phone down and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling, he sighs before opening one of the side drawers of his desk and pulling out his glasses.

They were new, something he had to take on after his last trip to the ophthalmologist who had told him that the long hours of reading and sitting in front of a computer were doing a number on his vision. She had stated the glasses were a middle ground between compensatory and preventative.

However, Andy looked at them as a constant reminder of how much his life had changed in the past year.

His wife and son are mostly absent, his brother is soon to be married, and his mother still progressing through her illness.

Shaking his head and setting the frames on his nose, he gathers his materials for class, stuffing them into his work bag and slinging it over his shoulder, his laptop tucked into his elbow. He shuts off the light and locks his office behind him, making his way down to the large lecture hall that is far too vast for his evening class.

- - - - -

Your cousin calls your name as you try to spoon another serving into your daughter’s mouth.

“It’s 6:15,” she says.

“Oh, crap,” you sigh, flustered as you set the spoon on the saucer for it to rest.

Ivy has a terrible habit of reaching for her utensils if you leave them within arm’s reach of her, leading to globs of food flying in any direction for you to clean up.

“She just has this bowl and some milk–I think it’s still warm, you might have to heat it up again. Let me know how she goes down and–”

“Call if anything happens,” she finishes for you, handing you your water bottle, already filled up. “I got it.”

“Thank you, Winnie.” You kiss her cheek, then turn to your daughter. “Mommy loves you so much, Ivy,” you say softly to her. You kiss her chubby face, heart squeezing at the little giggles that erupt from her. “Only a few more months and I won’t have to leave,” you promise.

You know she can’t understand you, but at this point, you say it because it comforts you to tell her.

Saying goodbye one last time before shutting the door behind you, you climb into your car and drive to the university campus.

You never liked leaving in the evening. You never liked working during the day, either. You had imagined things going so differently, but life had other plans.

Troy was planning to propose, a last-ditch effort to get the both of you back in the good graces of your extremely conservative family. Neither of you intended to start having children until after you had graduated and he had gotten a higher-paying position at the company he was working for. But when the tests came back positive and were confirmed by ultrasounds, the two of you found yourselves scrambling for ways to build a home for an unborn child.

He died before any of the real planning could have started. The holidays had just ended and it was his last weekend off before he had to return to work. When he hit his head really hard after slipping in the shower, you had suggested going to the hospital to be safe. A friend from the university in the nursing program had told you unchecked head injuries were silent killers.

Insisting he was fine, he continued about his day, cooking dinner for both of you and watching a film to end the night.

He was cold in the morning and you tried to wake him up, but his eyes never opened again.

After the funeral, his mom gave you the engagement ring he had rush-ordered to her house. It was supposed to come before Christmas, but when it didn’t, he had said he would propose on Valentine’s Day.

It didn’t help when your parents iced you out, and the majority of your extended family cut contact with you as well.

Your aunt and your cousin kept in touch, supporting you throughout your pregnancy and bereavement. Your aunt put you up in a small, two-bedroom apartment she had previously been renting to students for the nearby university. She didn’t charge you anything, telling you to focus on saving your money to help support your baby.

You had decided to defer your education until after giving birth, finding a job at the DA’s office as a receptionist to make some money so that you could afford some baby essentials and maternity clothes.

When Ivy arrived, your world was turned upside even more (if that was possible). Still, your duo of relatives were at your side. When your maternity leave was up, your aunt took her during the day to watch her at the daycare she directed. Then, in the evenings when you had class, your cousin took over finishing up dinner, giving her a bath, and putting her down to sleep.

Every day came with new challenges, but things also felt easier and you felt less alone. School was distracting, work was somewhat rewarding, and Ivy was happy.

You had determined a long time ago that she would never experience anything remotely close to the loneliness and sadness you felt.

Finding a parking spot in a decently-lit area, you gather your things and walk into the building with the designated lecture hall.

It was far too big for your class; there were only ten other students in this section with you, yet for some reason, you all were placed in a massive lecture hall. Your professor didn’t even bother turning on the lights for the back half of the classroom, trying to prevent students from sitting all the way in the back and getting a nap in.

“Hi, Professor Barber,” you greet him as he sets up his computer at the podium.

He nods at you, “Evening, Miss Y/L/N.”

You sit in your usual seat in the second row, the third one from the left aisle. It’s in the middle, but not too centered where you make uncomfortable eye contact with Professor Barber as you look up at his slides.

You get settled, opening up your note-taking software on your computer and setting your phone to silent. As you place your water bottle next to your laptop for easy access, Professor Barber announces that he’s going to begin.

- - - - -

You open and close your fists, feeling the nervous tension in your arms as you watch Ivy play on her mat in the middle of the living room.

Winnie is sick; a bad case of the flu, your aunt had told you. She would need to take care of her in the evening, leaving you with nobody to watch your daughter.

Professor Barber had made it clear that last-minute absences wouldn’t be tolerated. One of your classmates hadn’t come to class for two weeks straight. When he returned, your professor immediately told him to leave and take the class next semester.

“Maybe then you’ll understand that this profession has no room for bullshit.”

You had gripped your pen tight that night, making a note in your planner to never be late and always let him know ahead of time if you were going to be absent.

It’s a unique circumstance, you realize. If you explain the situation, maybe he would be lenient this time.

Bringing your laptop to the living room to better monitor your daughter, you log in to your student account and write an email to Professor Barber.

- - -

Andy’s computer chimes as he receives an email. Finishing his note in the margin of a student’s paper, he sets down his pen and looks at his inbox.

He recognizes the name. You’re normally on time, you ask insightful questions. You sit in the second row and always take notes. You have a good standing in his class and, according to his colleagues, you’re doing well in the program.

You don’t reach out often, other than to ask an occasional clarifying question late at night, probably when you’re studying.

He opens the email.

Hi Professor Barber,

My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m in your Wednesday night Children’s Rights class.

I’m aware of your no-tolerance policy for late-notice absences, but I’m in a very difficult circumstance at the moment. I have a one-year-old daughter

You’re a mom? Andy would’ve never guessed.

He continues reading.

I have a one-year-old daughter and my evening babysitter is sick, so I won’t be able to come to class today since I have to take care of her.

Is it possible for me to attend another section during the day? I can try to request time off from work. Please let me know what my options are to succeed in your class after this setback.

Best,

Y/N

Andy bites the inside of his cheek. He understands the struggle of fulfilling commitments to work while also looking after a child all too well.

Even with Laurie being a stay-at-home mom that would look after Jacob, he couldn’t shake the paternal instinct of wanting to be there to help his son, even if it was just a little cold.

He doesn’t want you to have to deal with taking time off work–he can only imagine what kind of hoops you might have to jump through to get time off at the last minute to attend his Friday morning section of the class.

In response, he offers a suggestion.

Hi Miss Y/L/N,

Thank you for reaching out and letting me know your situation.

I wonder, would you feel comfortable bringing your daughter to class tonight? I will turn on the lights at the back of the classroom to allow both of you to sit there and have all the space you need.

Let me know if this is possible. If not, we will discuss other options.

Andrew Barber, LL.M., J.D.

Professor of Law

Boston University

He sits back for a moment then returns to grading. After a few minutes, his computer chimes again.

Hi Professor Barber,

Bringing my daughter to class is possible, yes. But I just worry about her getting fussy and interrupting. Are you sure you would be okay if she joined me tonight?

Thank you,

Y/N

He replies quickly.

Miss Y/L/N,

I would be more than happy to have your daughter as a guest tonight. And please feel free to bring whatever you need in order to keep her comfortable. If I can help in any way, let me know.

See you tonight,

Andy deletes his standard email signature, opting to sign the email with his initials in an attempt to keep the conversation light. He doesn’t want to give the impression that he thinks himself above you.

You’re a parent; he is, too. Who was he to deny you chances to properly take care of your child?

- - - - -

You’re weighed down by a lot of things.

Your backpack rests heavily on your shoulders and Ivy’s stroller–stocked with plenty of supplies for you to give her to keep her occupied during your nearly three-hour-long lecture for the evening is difficult to push through campus.

Your usual route to your lecture hall is changed; you have to use the elevators on the far side of the building instead of the stairs that will take you right to the door. All the while, you try to keep your nerves down, keeping calm so that maybe Ivy will be calm throughout the evening.

As you enter the classroom, you garner a few strange looks from your classmates. Professor Barber greets you, inviting you to park the stroller by the door as he walks to the light switch panel, flipping up the last two switches to turn on the lights at the back of the classroom as he promised in his email.

“Take your time to get settled,” he tells you, voice gentle and slow. “I shortened the lecture tonight to adjust for any extra time you might need.”

“Thank you,” you sigh, catching your breath after your trip from your car to the classroom and trying to dampen your anxious emotions.

You feel eyes on you as you grab Ivy’s bag of toys and food, slinging it over your shoulder and uncovering her seat so you can pick her up and carry her to the back row of the classroom.

She’s quiet, looking around at the new environment. One of your classmates coos at her and waves, and she waves back.

Instead of individual desks, the lecture hall has rows of long tables with all the chairs facing the front of the room. You decide it’s best for Ivy to sit on top of the table next to your workspace, placing a thick blanket so that she can sit or lay comfortably. You give her a shape toy to play with–one that doesn’t make any noise or light up.

When she seems settled, you take out your supplies for class, then look up to meet Professor Barber’s expectant gaze at the bottom of the lecture hall.

You give him a timid thumbs up and he announces he’s going to get started.

The class goes well for the first twenty minutes, then Ivy seems to fuss and you switch out her shape toy for a stuffed animal. It keeps her occupied until she tries to start typing on your computer.

“Ivy, no,” you whisper, placing her back on the blanket and giving her another stuffed animal.

She tries again, little hand reaching for the keyboard but you stop her in time.

“Ivy, please,” you try to tell her, but you know she doesn’t understand. She begins to whine, drawing everyone’s eyes up to you and you feel your face heat up. You can hear Professor Barber’s voice trail off mid-sentence.

You swear under your breath, heart racing as you try to find another toy but she insists on reaching for your keyboard.

Her whining gets louder and her eyes begin to water and you know a meltdown is coming. There’s no way you can gather everything and leave before she goes nuclear.

You hear footsteps coming up the steps to where you’re seated, looking up and catching a glimpse of your professor coming toward you.

He’s going to kick you out. Fuck.

“Is she okay?” he asks.

“Yes, I’m sorry, professor. I’m just going to go–”

“May I?” he points to her, still crying and pushing against your hands as she pursues your computer.

“Um…yes? What are you…?”

He turns her easily, picking her up under her arms and lifting her up above his head.

Ivy stops crying when he brings her down, then up again.

Then, she laughs.

You watch incredulously as he repeats his actions, hearing her giggles grow louder and louder. He smiles too, eyes crinkling under the lenses of his glasses.

He settles her on his side, supporting her bottom well with one arm. Then, he grabs the small towel you had placed on the blanket and slings it over his shoulder where her head might rest.

You realize he’s done this before, then you wonder if he’s a father.

Professor Barber looks at you, still smiling. “I can hold her, you keep taking notes.” Then, he turns to face the rest of the class, some people just staring blankly, others smiling, and others using the small interlude as an opportunity to go on their phones. “Now, as I was saying, when collaborating with a social worker, it’s important to…”

His voice trails off in your mind as you just focus on the image of him retreating down the stairs with your daughter on his arm, completely content as he continues his lecture.

At the bottom of the lecture hall, he stands next to the podium, swaying and bouncing a little. Ivy seems to enjoy it, completely fixated on his face.

She presses her hand into his beard, earning some laughs from him and your classmates. You’re horrified when she grabs his glasses, but everyone laughs again, and some people coo. He takes them from her and puts them back on, only for her to grab them again.

Eventually, he relents, letting her play with them for the rest of the lecture.

Towards the end, you notice Ivy’s body beginning to relax as she leans against his shoulder. Your professor grabs his glasses from her and places them on top of the podium, readjusting her so she’s better supported as she falls asleep.

“That’s all I have for tonight; have a good Thanksgiving break, travel safely, and come back ready to finish the semester.”

You rush to gather your things, practically running down the stairs.

“I…” you begin, then stop because you don’t know where to begin. “Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble,” he brushes you off, still rocking her even in her sleep. “Can I walk you to your car?” he asks.

“Oh, you don’t have to–”

“I insist if it’ll help,” he shakes his head.

“I’m sure you’re eager to get home,” you argue weakly, really not wanting to bother him further.

He practically babysat while lecturing. He clearly doesn’t mind, but you feel as if you’ve inconvenienced him regardless.

“I don’t have any classes tomorrow,” he reassures you. “I don’t mind.”

You huff a laugh, “I guess I shouldn’t argue with you…you were the ADA, after all.”

He laughs too and your face heats up as you purse your lips to hide your smile.

- - -

Andy carries your backpack as you push Ivy’s stroller, the November air chilly as the two of you walk to your car.

“I can’t thank you enough, Professor Barber,” you sigh after buckling Ivy into her seat while he places your backpack in the trunk, then puts the baby bag in.

He begins to collapse the stroller.

“Oh, I can do that, you’ve done enough.”

“Nonsense,” he dismisses you, folding it and placing it next to your other things. He shuts the door softly to not disturb your still sleeping daughter. “Happy to help.”

“I can’t express how grateful I am for all this,” you say, realizing you’re repeating yourself. “It’s a big help. And you didn’t have to do any of it–”

“Of course I did,” he shrugs. “I know the whole parenting deal. It’s a challenge.”

You smile, “How old is yours?”

“He’s sixteen now.”

“Oh, that’s a fun age,” you remark. “Ivy’s only one and she’s already got a big personality. I can’t imagine what she’ll be like when she gets to that age. What’s it been like?”

Andy purses his lips and swallows.

Truth is, he doesn’t know much about his son. Not since Laurie moved out and he went with her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.”

When he looks back at your face, he can see the guilt in your eyes and he shakes his head. “No, I…” he begins. The words never come to him; how can even begin to delve into the inner workings of his family falling apart?

“It’s complicated.”

A look of sympathy comes over your face. “I can empathize.”

He feels his eyebrows furrow in confusion and curiosity. What does that mean?

“Um, I should probably head home,” you say, using your thumb to point at your car. “I’m not as lucky as you; I have an early start tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Thank you again, professor. Happy Thanksgiving,” you smile, going around to the driver’s side of your car.

“My pleasure. Any time you need to bring her, just bring her. She was great to have in class.”

“You may regret saying that,” you joke. “Goodnight, Professor.”

“Goodnight.”

He stands there like an idiot in the middle of the parking lot as the cold bites at his body, making him shiver as he watches you drive away.

He had noticed you from the beginning, your quiet, respectful demeanor and great work ethic made you stand out against your other classmates. Now, having met your daughter, it unlocked a side of him he was forced to stow away when his family fell apart.

He realizes maybe this is what his father felt when he left; there’s a void where Jacob once was, something that Ivy seemed to fill.

Shaking his head, he reminds himself of the university policy: he’s faculty, you’re a student. It wouldn’t be appropriate.

As he makes his way to the other side of campus to the faculty parking lot, he can’t shake the stirring in his stomach. He has to press it down and push it away, no matter how much he wants to convince himself that his rapidly growing fondness for you and your daughter is platonic.

His fondness for you was never platonic to begin with.

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou @bangtan-serendipity @lovemarvelousfics @rainbowkisses31 @richonne4life @damnndeanndamnn @meetmeatyourworst @tinyplanet-explorer @vivien-1211 @unknownmystery22 @nerdygirl8203 @xoxabs88xox @mariaenchanted @gotnofucks @denisemarieangelina @myoxisbroken @kelbabyblue @pspice639 @maynay43 @just-another-wretched-egg @jennmurawski13 @avantgardium-leviosa @random-butterfly @rachelderivia @kenzieam @bluemusickid @asiaaisa77 @angrybirdcr @inactivewhore @velvetcardiganbucky @madbaddic7ed @mysweetlittledesire @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @buckymydarlingangel @mayasreadingnook

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit @astheworlddturns @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @maeleeme @tvckerlance @thiskindahotkindamusic @fizzahocleirigh @marantha @justile

Wooden Facade Taglist: @ghotifishreads @buckysteveloki-me @blackwidownat2814 @wsoldat @sn0wpiercer @aynanasstuff @fluffysmutmnstr @emerald-evans @abbatoirablaze @justalonelyslytherin

#Andy Barber #Andy Barber x reader #professor!Andy Barber x student!single mom!reader #Andy Barber fanfiction #Andy Barber fanfic #Andy Barber fluff #chris evans character #Defending Jacob fanfiction #House of Stone #ficsofpagesoflauren

453 notes · View notes

just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Note

AHHHH

Can I request a Matt smith x reader where in real life theyre married and in the show theyre hot sibling lovers 🥵🥵 anyways 👀 theyre doing a bunch of press junkets, interviews, games, etc. and its sooo fluffy☺️ and domestic☺️ and I just want to envision my life with Matt smith 😭

+ some star points if an interviewer asks about their 😏 scenes and they get really embarrassed but cute 🥰🥰😫😫😫☺️

I Can't Help It

Matt Smith x (ME PLS I WANTHIM) Actress!Reader

Summary: The tumblr girlies were absolutely wrecked when they found out their resident girlboss was dating their superwholock tumblr boy.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Crackfic, i use y/n im sorry im not that strong, head empty only matt, a bunch of made up stuff because plot!, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: NAH ANON YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I WAS WHEN I SAW THIS I WAS LIKE I GOTTA ZOOM THROUGH ALL MY REQS FOR THIS IASFHASFAS. i swear my anons and i share the same brain fr we all just want the same loser dont we PLSSSSSS [foams in the mouth] Also, idk if you've ever read any of my chris evans fics, but what you want me to do for matt is what i did for him & IM ABOUT TO HAVE A FIELD DAY IM ON CRACK HELLO ALSO ALSO, i get you probably meant they're targaryen sibling/lovers, cause otherwise ALFHKAFA MISS ME W THAT BS, but i decided on doing something different all together so lolol i hope you like it nonnie <3 idk what you feel about matt smith but im still going to tag you anyway holla Tagging: @pinksirensong what do you feel about matt smith HAHAHAHAAHHA

It all started with this tweet that was prompted during a brief interaction at a movie premiere:

@fannygurl007: yeah but matt smith and y/n interacted for 20 seconds and i want them to get married and have babies [clip attached]

being liked by Matt's mom.

Then all hell broke lose.

And hell hath no mercy.

It lead with intense investigations of:

@ihave100problems retweeted: AWFHASL:FHAH WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY WHISPER TO EACH OTHER?!?!? 👹👹👹 @thedoctorswife retweeted: IN FRONT OF MY SINGLE ASS?? THEY FLIRTED IN FRONT OF *MY* SINGLE ASS??? JAIL @mattsmithbithc retweeted: "Oh, I think you look so pretty ------- yeah, that's great -----" HELP WHAT ELSE DID SHE SAY @mattsmithbithc replied: I THINK SHE SAID SMTH ABOUT HIS SUIT BUT IDK WHAT SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP @tennantsmith1 retweeted: you really can't trust men look at the way he's looking at her. i bet it was love at first sight for him. was anything between us even real </3 @mmmyehs retweeted: what's that? my matt smith and y/n cutouts gon sleep outside? I HOPE YOU KEEP EACH OTHER WARM IN HELL @y/nloml666 retweeted: NAH NAH NAH BUT MY BISEXUAL ASS WANTS TO BE IN BETWEEN THAT SANDWHICH @datass00 replied: me watching that vid like [image attached below]

Then these things popped up on youtube:

proof matt smith and y/n have been dating all along 🤡🤡

Clip #1

I stick my hand in a jar and pull out a folded piece of paper. "Who's my celebrity crush," I read out the question, turning back to the camera, "I have long list," I refold the paper as I push it beneath my seat, "and the unfortunate king of that, currently, is Matt Smith."

*cut to a bunch of 🤡🤡🤡 and really loud background music*

One of the staff asks, off camera, "why unfortunate?"

"Well," I chuckle, crossing my arms, "if you know me, then you know when I like something so, so much, I end up hating it." I straighten up, "yeah, Matt Smith may or may not have been subjected to verbal abuse as of late."

I chuckle as I hear a few of the staff wheeze.

I raise a hand and cut through the air, "affectionately, affectionately."

Clip #2

There is an abrupt cut to a sound of a crowd cheering.

Matt leans in, scrunching his face as he brings the mic close to his lips, "sorry, love, what was that?"

*The clip is replayed twice and captioned [IM SORRY THE WAY HE SAID THAT WAS JUST SO HOT I HAD TO REPEAT IT]*

The crowd is gracious enough to quiet down, keeping their fangirling internal.

"Is there an actor or actress that you have not yet worked with but always wanted to?" the lucky fan asks her question again.

Matt hums, leaning back on his sofa chair, repeating the words for good measure. He pulls the mic away as he thinks, then brings it back, "you know what, I have been lucky enough to work with some amazing people," he starts, "but-"

The crowd cheers.

Matt smiles and releases a chuckle, waving the mic around, "but," he carefully says, "I have recently watched Vampire in the Locker for the first time."

The crowd cheers again.

"Yeah, and thought y/n was absolutely fabulous in it."

Someone in the crowd says loudly, "same!"

The crowd, along with Matt, laughs. He straightens up and points, "that person gets it!"

But what it really took was this Instagram post to destroy the internet:

@imthebesty/n: ok but you cant get mad a me, i was there during superwholock. at least one of us won!! ps, he's a horrible cook, i promise you don't want him. i took one for the team 😇

That paired with headlines like:

Y/N confirms relationship with Matt Smith on Instagram with hilarious caption

Matt Smith cooks horribly, according to girlfriend, Y/N, who confirmed rumors with Instagram post

"I took one for the team," Y/N says in Instagram post, referring to dating Matt Smith

Tumblr but all stayed sane:

winchester-pie: Are you normal, or are you losing your mind overthinking one of the superwholock girlies is secretly y/n 369,278 notes dont-talk3me: When I gaslight people, it's bad, when y/n gaslights people, it's taking one for the team? 16,586 notes uowbish: I'm gonna say it: I DONT CARE THAT YOU'RE DATING MATT SMITH YOU SHOULD BE DATING ME [image attatched] 99,345 notes sh3l0ck3D: thinking about how y/n once said that she wrote fanfiction that was popular online. i should have known it was superwholock, she unhinged as fuck. 836,084 y/nb00tyluv: OK but i genuinely think y/n and matt smith talked for 5 minutes then decided to date after that 74,670 notes prettyeyebrows: ok but tell me y/n doesn't look like the type to make memes like this [image attached below] 424,245 notes

The cherry on top was when Vogue magazine graced the world with this brilliant interview:

I introduce myself and turn to my side, smiling at the man next to me.

"I'm Matt, and today we-"

"Smith."

Matt turns to me, words going dry.

"You're Matt Smith," I correct, blinking at him.

Matt looks at me for a good moment then raises a hand between our faces, turning back to the camera, "and today, we're going to be-" he cuts himself off with a laugh when he hears me laughing.

He drops his hand and gives me a look before continuing, "we're going to be answering some questions for-"

Matt points to me so that I finish his sentence.

"Vogue magazine!" I say, making the man beside me clap his hands.

The most played part of that interview is this scene:

Matt is reading from a card, "if you could have something of the other's, what would it be?" He chucks the card away, turning to me just as I turn to him.

I mutter under my breath as I think, "something of the other's?"

Matt furrows pouts his lips out in thought.

A beat of silence passes.

We then simultaneously trail off as we both whisper, "like a baby."

I wheeze and lean into Matt, dying of laughter. He snorts and beams like a boy on Christmas, dropping his jaw low.

"No," I warn as I raise a finger through my chuckles, "behave."

Matt throws an arm around me as he lets out more deep laughs.

"The fact we both keep answering the same thing means me hang out too much."

He scoffs. "Clearly not enough though," Matt notes, making me glare at him and shake him off. He withdraws his arm, face still awfully pleased.

I give him a look, "your mother has been ingraining that ideation in your head too religiously."

"I mean," he grabs my hand. He looks at me for 3 whole seconds before sighing and saying, "you would make a great mother."

I purse my lips and sighing as well. I lean into him a bit as I softly admit, "and I think you would make a great father."

For a moment, the two of us look at each other.

I pull my hand away from him, moving to grab another card.

Here are a few of the most liked comments on that video:

Jason Stone: I have absolutely no idea who either of these people are and only watched this video because it autoplayed. Do I want them to get married and have babies though? Yes. Yes I do. 88.9k likes kpopinmybloodstream: matt the entire video:😍🥰😘 y/n the entire video: 😍🥰😘 me the entire video: 😍🥰😘 but single as fock 🤡🤡🤡 103k likes sowrr88: if i cant have what they have, i dont want it 94k likes

#matt smith #matt smith fanfic #matt smith fluff #matt smith crackfic #matt smith x reader #matt smith fanfiction #matt smith my nemesis #matt smith x you #matt smith x actress!reader #rpf fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfic #im dead #dont wake me up #the delusion is real

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ | ᴄ. ᴇᴠᴀɴꜱ

GIFs by the amazing @henricavyll

Dad!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader (DiCaprio!Reader)

summary: It’s the Lightyear world premiere in L.A.—and everyone is asking where Chris’ wife, YN, and their kids are.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fluff, more fluff, mentions of complicated pregnancy, really short mention of traumatic child labor and death of both mother and child, double the fluff, not really proofread because I’m tired

author’s note: I don’t know where this came from. But I also don’t care because it’s my first Chris piece, and I’m excited. And for age’s sake: Leo is 15-20 years older than he actually is because I kinda forgot that he is only 47 after I already finished this one xD

“I’m standing here with actor Chris Evans on this beautiful sunny afternoon. How are you, Chris?” One of the many interviewer asked, and the man grinned shortly to the camera before focusing back on the woman in front of him, holding a microphone right under his nose. She was nervous; he could see that, so he didn’t say anything about it. He understood her on a different level. “Hi, Susan. We really had luck with the weather, didn’t we? And I’m great, thanks. I mean, how could I not be great?” He grinned again and pushed his sunglasses up. “I probably would feel the same when I voiced my longtime favorite character! How did your kids react? You have two, right?”

At the mention of his two sunbeams back home, the father couldn’t help but smile softly. It may have taken a long while to find the perfect woman and the love of his life and an even longer while to create these two joys in his life, but Chris thanked the universe every single day for the honor of having them in his life.

“I have two wonderful and beautiful children, yes, and number three is on their way. My eldest, Ophelia, was over the moon when I left my study a few months back after I had just wrapped up the call with my manager and Disney and were allowed to talk about it. She, of course, eavesdropped because she just loves to do it when it contains me and my study. And she had picked up on some parts of the conversation and had bounced up and down and asked me nonstop if it’s true and I’m playing Buzz. It’s her favorite Toy Story character, so I had a bit of pressure while doing the actual work.” He showed his thumb and pointer moving very closely together and chuckled. “Who am I kiddin’, I had a lot of pressure,” he laughed, and Susan laughed with him. “I only can imagine how it is with such a harsh critique living under the same roof. How did your second child react?” Chris grinned again, and it was visible for everyone to see in this world how much he adored his two children. “My son Aiden was much more chilled. Well, it’s not science because he only objects if someone dares to steal his share of ice cream—or cuddle time with his mom. He had only shrugged after Ophelia had screamed through the living room that I was voicing Buzz, but he was kinda excited after we watched it for the first time and heard my voice. Y’know, to see your own kids become happy and have those big round eyes just like you at your first Disney movie and the birth of your first movie heroes? It’s something entirely else. And to witness this moment while they watched Lightyear? Mindblowing, really.”

His chest was swelled with pride, and everyone around gushed over the epitome of proud fatherhood Chris was in this very moment. And he didn’t mind because he could boast all day long about his kids—and wife. Speaking of which…

“This is probably the sweetest story I’ve ever heard. Thank you for sharing this very intimate insight of your family life with us, Chris,” the interviewer thanked him with a genuine smile, but Chris only waved it off. They might keep their kids out of the spotlight to grant them the childhood he had been gifted by his parents, but they never stopped talking about them when people asked. “Is it okay if I ask about your wife and why she isn’t here today? She usually is at all your premieres and vice versa. I barely can remember a time without her at your side or you at hers, to be quite honest. You two really found one another.” Chris nodded in absolute agreement. “We really did. It was unexpected and kinda bumpy—quite literally.”

The husband remembered their first encounter at one of the Oscar Afterparties vividly where the stunning woman had bumped into him—and had driven the heel of her painful stilettos into his shoe. Ever since the actor saw these shoes with other eyes. He returned back to reality. “But we pushed through the obstacles, and I am the lucky bastard she had agreed to marry. Lucky me.” He chuckled under his breath and shook his head. YN would hit him as soon as she saw this interview, and maybe she sat in front of the tv at this very moment and watched him gushing over their family. “But back to your question, Susan. YN is currently at home, maybe watching this interview and throwing a pillow to the tv because she is heavily pregnant and can’t get up without help anymore.” Chris grinned straight into the camera. “I’m sorry, love!” He almost shouted after the exposure of her struggling state he almost loved the most about her being pregnant.

He just was a sucker for his wife when she called for him to help her with the easiest of tasks and boss him around as if there was no tomorrow. But he was a happily obliging husband because, after all, her state had been his fault. Something he would always be proud of.

“She wanted to come with me, but the doctor had put her on bed rest for the time being after we experienced a tiny scare of our little one two weeks back.” The same icy cold feeling ran his back up and down, just the same he had felt during the few hours of panic and anxiety in the depths of night when their unborn child tried to greet them earlier than agreed. And gladly, as stubborn his wife could be, she kept her word and watched out for herself and the little bub instead of ignoring every warning and trying to go head first through every wall possible. His father-in-law was a great help on days like this when Chris couldn’t be at home to watch out for his love and his tiny love. “I am sorry to hear that. But now, everything is back on track and in order?” The actor nodded, relieved. “So far, yes. But it still means I have to attend these without her calming presence, and let me tell’ya: it’s freaking scary.” And then, he laughed and shook his head. “I’ve never expected to be so lost without her. I almost forgot to lace my shoes because my head was all over the place,” he let out and still couldn’t believe how his life had changed within only a few years.

“Don’t worry, Chris, I feel the same. My life without my girlfriend? God, send some help,” Susan laughed with him, and Chris smiled thankfully. “So, I suppose you will head straight back home after the screening?” And the Evans was more than relieved to nod this question yes. “Totally. I love everyone involved in this movie, and I’m beyond grateful. However, my priorities are heading home, being greeted by Dodge and maybe the kids if they’re still awake, thanking Leo for keeping an eye on these two—more like three, Dodger included—troublemakers and his daughter, and then finally greeting my wife. We probably will watch a Disney movie, eventually waking the kids with the sounds, and everything will morph into a huge Disney sleepover on the couch. And yes, that’s the description of my personal favorite night.” He had always been a more at-home type of guy after passing a certain age, but now, it was all he could ever want.

“That sounds like a night in just like mine, minus the children. Thank you again for talking to me, Chris, and congratulations on the brilliant movie and your family. I’m definitely not the only one when I’m saying that you deserve every single bit of it,” Susan closed the interview, and Chris waved a last time to the people standing behind her before heading back to the red carpet to get the final shots for the press.

;

Chris was glad that they had settled back to L.A. for the making of Lightyear to avoid stressful last-minute flights from one side of the country to the other. He could be there if something happened at home, almost within a matter of thirty minutes tops, and Leo wasn’t busy as he usually was to help him with keeping an eye on everyone. And now, he was glad because it meant he could hold his wife in his arms after only a twenty-minute drive instead of an almost six-hour flight. He could even grab her favorite ice cream flavor on the way home.

Leaving the car and wishing Daniel, his driver for today, a good night, Chris slowly followed the pathway, flanked with blooming bushes and flowers exploding in every color there was, up to the four steps leading to the porch and door. Their L.A. house reminded him of home back in Boston, and he couldn’t wait for them to move back and relish in the family time they would have after baby number three was born.

Smiling at the sounds of an excited Dodger waiting for him, Chris took two steps at a time and opened the door to get in. His fur companion wiggled with his tail at the sight of his human, and the Evans crouched down to greet him with a loving scratch behind his ears. “How is my best boy?” He asked and chuckled as Dodger impatiently nudged his hand to follow him. He wanted to, but tiny, excited voices let him stop in his tracks.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“Daddy’s home!”

Two tiny humans rounded the corner into the hallway at full speed, and the father could only let the bag with ice cream and snacks drop to the floor before he was attacked by the hugs of his five-year-old girl and an almost four-year-old boy. “What a greeting!” He laughed as he lifted both children in his arms and tickled squealing noises out of them. Ophelia grinned brightly—the grin almost too big for her pretty little face— while Aiden preferred to snuggle onto his father’s shoulder. It was late for him, and Chris was actually surprised at how long he had pushed through.

“Did you bring the biiiig Buzz? I saw him on TV! I want him! He is so cool and sooo big! And Sox??? They had a statue of him too! Did you see it, Daddy?? Can we go there tomorrow?? Please??”

Chris chuckled at the tsunami of questions he already had anticipated, but another voice slid into the conversation. “Lia, darling. Give your dad some time to arrive and at least to take off his shoes,” Leo quipped with a small grin on his face and stepped to his son-in-law to take the kids off him. “But, Poooops!” Ophelia pouted heavily, and even Aiden seemed not happy about the interruption of stories. “No but’s, darling. Come on; you said you wanted to bake a cake for your dad and the work is only halfway done. Plus, your mom said something about craving a banana smoothie. Who wants a banana smoothie?”

And suddenly, the world was back in order, and both kids screamed “Yes!” throughout the entire house.

Chris followed them after taking off his shoes and retrieving the paper bag again. He took one spoon from the kitchen on his way to the living room and already saw the head of his wife peeking up between thick couch pillows. The husband left the bag with snacks at the opening of the kitchen, only taking the ice cream bucket with him. He crouched behind the back of the couch and let his arm appear from behind in front of the woman he loved—ice cream presented like an offering to the gods.

“M’lady, I brought gifts,” Chris laughed softly at her gasp and grabby hands, kissing her cheek tenderly. “Fine sir, do you possess the ability of mind reading? We should consider burning you at the stake.” YN had turned her head and grinned up to him as he rounded the couch and plopped down next to her. She was dressed in one of his Red Sox shirts—usually, it would be way too big for her, but now with the ever-growing baby bump, it fitted perfectly—, yoga pants and fluffy socks under which she probably hid the pestering compression socks the doctor had prescribed for the next weeks. “Please, I beg you, don’t burn me! Who would tend to your needs, m’lady?” YN’s eyes wandered to Dodger, who had taken over his place at her side once more. Ever the protective fur baby, Chris thought with a smile. “I could train Dodge to go to the store. Remember this video with the dog and his little basket on the market? Where he bought fruits for his owner? It could be Dodger after a bit of persuasion.” The woman grinned brightly, the same grin Ophelia owned, and with one hand on his neck, she pulled his face closer to hers. Chris obliged and leaned down to press their lips together in a loving kiss, which still let butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“Hey,” Chris whispered, lips still touching, and YN sighed. “Hey,” she returned just as quiet as he and nudged his nose with hers. “Everything alright?” She could see the worry in his blue eyes, darkening them a bit, so she took his hand and put it on the right side of her still-growing bump, even though she was almost through with it. But each pregnancy held its own surprises, as she had experienced. “Of course,” she smiled at his joyful, boyish grin as he felt one of the many kicks of their third bundle of joy. Number three may be an accident because, after Aiden’s birth, they had agreed on waiting a couple more years to grant them the attention they both deserved, but everything would be okay. And she couldn’t imagine a life without bub three.

Chris bent his head down to the spot where he suspected his baby’s head and pressed a kiss on top of his… YN’s shirt. “Hey, love. Here is your daddy speaking. I hope you didn’t give your mom a hard time today, and I damn sure hope you will continue to be a good girl in a few hours when she tries to sleep—unlike the last three nights. ‘Thought we had a deal.” YN chuckled while her fingers carded through Chris’ fluffy hair but groaned at a particularly hard kick. “Love,” they both warned in unison before YN settled back into the cushions and continued to caress her husband’s hair and scalp. “A girl, huh?” She softly smiled at the man who had swept her off her feet so suddenly, she still wondered how she didn’t brake her neck in the wake of his adorable flirting endeavors she oh so happily had returned. Chris leaned his cheek against her bump, wanting to be as close as possible to his baby and wife, and her knuckles tenderly stroked over his bearded cheek. He had a boyish smile tucking at his lips. “S’just a feelin’,” he mumbled, Boston accent very prominent—just as always when he felt contentment and happiness, mostly when he was at home with his family. YN grinned down at him while slowly rubbing the spot where the tiny bub had kicked again. “You can admit that you want another girl. Nobody would be surprised, y’know? The whole internet sees you as a girl-dad,” YN winked, and Chris’ rumbling laugh almost shook her body as well. “Do they, yeah?” She nodded and tipped the tip of his nose with the pad of her finger. “Yes, they do, and we both know that you know this as well. Don’t try to fool lil’ ol’ me, Mr. Evans. I’m aware of your stalking tendencies when it comes to your fans and this family.”

Chris grinned sheepishly before sitting up and pressing another kiss to her lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Evans,” he whispered before commotion erupted in the kitchen and tiny feet came rushing over. “Mommy! Mommy, look! I made banana shake!” Aiden proudly presented the filled glass, and both parents were sure there would be a dripping trail of shake from the kitchen to the couch. But her father already followed with a kitchen towel in hand. “We made the banana shake,” Ophelia stressed and gave her mom the reusable straw she had carried while Aiden gave her the glass. The mother almost teared up and blinked rapidly to hide the tears. “You two are too good to me,” she sniffled before taking the first sip and hummed in utter approval. “Perfection. Maybe you should think about opening a shake shop.” Ophelia giggled while Aiden squeezed himself between Dodger and his mother. With another human, Dodger wouldn’t have any of that, but with his family, he only made space and put his head in his tiny human’s lap to get the cuddles he loved.

Meanwhile, Ophelia climbed into the spot between her mom and dad and cuddled into Chris’ side, grabbing the ice cream out of her mother’s hands and starting to steal a few spoons full of sugary delight. He had thought about getting up to change into something more comfortable, but he decided that this was much better. He could outlive a few hours without his sweatpants. Leo returned after bringing the kitchen towel into the laundry room and bent down to press a kiss to the top of his youngest daughter’s head. “I would head over if you don’t need anything else, darling,” he said, and YN looked up to him with all the love she held for this man. “Of course. Thanks again for coming over and handling everything.” She really had lucked out in the family department, even before finding Chris and creating her own perfect family with the perfect man that was her husband. The DiCaprio smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. “That’s nothing to thank me for.” And with that, he kissed his grandkids goodbye before patting his son-in-law’s shoulder. “There is a cake in the oven, but the timer is set.” Chris nodded, and after peeling a grumpy Ophelia off his side, he stood up and brought Leo to the door.

There, the older man turned again. “Before I go… I wanted to thank you, Chris, for making her so happy. You know what happened to her mother, and though it was a long time ago, it had always cast a shadow over her.” Chris knew what Leo was referring to; YN had told him about the traumatic labor her mother went through, only that she died and the baby with her. It had taken its toll on Leo, too, and the whole family had needed years to recover from it. It still amazed Chris how she had handled every pregnancy and every birth, although she knew what could go wrong. “But with you, she finally is… I can’t even describe it. Not to mention that you took her fear. So… Thank you.” Both men hugged each other closely, patted their backs reaffirmingly. “It’s an honor to love her and have her in my life because you raised one of the best women on earth. You deserve every thank I could offer you,” Chris mumbled before they let go of one another. Leonardo waved it off, but in reality, it was the proudest achievement in his life. YN and her sister were his pride and joy, just as Ophelia, Aiden, and the little one were Chris’ pride and joy. “Have a good night, Chris, and give me a call if it’s happening, yeah?” Chris nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, of course.“

Returning into the living room in his favorite sweatpants and Red Sox shirt—one of the few he actually was allowed to wear and which wasn’t claimed by his darling wife—Chris sat back next to Ophelia and out his arm on the back of the couch to softly caress YN’s neck and shoulder. “The kids decided that we’re watching Wall-E,” she let him know while his eldest already held onto the remote and scrolled through Disney+. “Daddy?” He hummed in question at Aiden’s voice. “Lia and I want see biiiiig Sox,” he told the family, and YN softly shrugged at Chris’ questioning look in her direction. “If they’re still there, why not? You two have to take a lot of pictures for me, ‘kay?” Aiden nodded with a serious expression. “Otay!” YN carded through her son’s mop of blonde hair—Chris’ genes definitely outrun hers—and changed another look with her husband, both obviously thinking the same. “You know, after your brother or sister is born, maybe we could check out Disney World and if they already have a Buzz and Sox there.” Both parents knew what mentioning Disney World would do to their kids, but they didn’t mind the explosion of tiny voices. Instead, Chris settled back right next to his wife, hand again on her bump, while they watched their children playing in the living room—Dodger was Sox, Ophelia played Izzy, and Aiden was Buzz himself.”

YN laughed softly and leaned her head onto Chris’ shoulder. “We really have a Disney obsessed family.” Chris grinned in total contentment and kissed her head. “We have, and I don’t want it any other way.”

;

I don’t know where all these words came from, but I kinda couldn’t stop writing. Even though it’s kinda shitty, I hope y’all enjoyed it! As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated <3

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans imagine #chris evans fluff #chris evans one shot #chris evans oneshot #chris evans blurb #dad!chris evans #dad chris evans #husband!chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans imagines

2K notes · View notes

nicoline1998enilocin · 8 months

Note

i am so in love with your comfort one shots. Can you write one about reader's mom is sick and y/n is worried and chris is there for reader because y/n is scared?

Going through that right now with my mom, she is in the ICU right now ;(

Forever by my side

PAIRING | Fiancé!Chris Evans x Fiancée!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.6K

SUMMARY | Your mom took a nasty fall down the stairs, and you're rushing to get back home. You don't have a way of contacting Chris, but when he shows up at the airport to be by your side, you know exactly why you said yes to this man when he asked you to marry him.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Hurt/comfort, mentions of a bad fall, broken bones, lots of tears and even more tooth rotting fluff at the end.

A/N | I'm so sorry to hear about your mom being in the ICU; I wish I could give you the biggest hug! (Or send Chris your way for an even bigger hug 👀), I hope she will quickly recover and be out of the ICU soon! Hopefully, this will be the comfort you are looking for right now, and I wish for this to make you feel a little bit better 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs would be very much appreciated 🩷

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Chris Evans Masterlist

Today is just a regular day at work filled with meetings, lots of paperwork, and even more meetings. This all changed when you suddenly got a phone call from your Dad because he only calls you at work when it's an absolute emergency.

You run out of the meeting room after excusing yourself before picking up.

''Dad? Is everything okay?'' you say when the door behind you is closed.

''Hi Darling, I'm sorry to bother you at work, but your mom just had a terrible fall down the stairs after she slipped, and she got taken to the hospital with an ambulance,'' he says, and the words don't seem to get through after ''bad fall''.

The world comes to a stop all around you, and your breathing gets quicker while the world around you seems to go in slow motion. Your phone drops out of your hand, shattering as it hits the ground below.

The only sound coming from you was a broken sob as you sank onto your knees, and your colleague rushed over to you to comfort you.

''What happened?'' she asks, but it sounds like you're underwater, and her words don't really register with you.

''M-my mom...'' you croak out, and you completely break down right then and there, not caring who sees or hears you. The woman you love and adore shouldn't be in the hospital, yet there she is right now.

''Y/N?'' your Mom asks as she walks into your room. ''Are you awake, Honey?'' she asks, and you stretch as she walks in.

''Mornin' Mom,'' you say, followed by a yawn.

''How was your last night in your parents' house?'' she asks with a big grin and a small tear. This afternoon you're moving to the other side of the country for a new job opportunity.

''Weird, but overall, I slept okay,'' you tell her as you sit up. You love these conversations in the morning, and your Mom was there every single morning without fail.

''Good, I'm glad to hear it. Now, shall we head down for some breakfast before your flight?'' your Mom asks, and you nod. She leaves the room, and you pick up the outfit that you laid out the night before, stepping into it.

''Is our girl ready for our last breakfast before moving to Boston?!'' your Dad asks, and you chuckle. ''Yeah, I am! Hit me with those waffles!'' you say as you sit down.

The conversation over breakfast is light and exactly what you need right now. The tears and heavy conversations would be saved for the airport.

Your parents decided to drive you to the airport to say goodbye to their last daughter, who would officially move out of the house in a few hours.

It wasn't too bad when it was time to say goodbye to your Dad; a few tears were shed, but nothing compared to your Mom.

''Honey, please promise me you will take care of yourself and that you will call me as soon as you land, okay?'' she says as she pulls you into a bone-crushing hug.

''I promise, Mom, please don't worry about me. You know I'll be fine,'' you tell her, trying to fight the tears - without success.

''I love you so much, Honey, and I wish you all the luck in the world in Boston,'' she says, unable to fight back her tears.

The two of you fell into each other's arms and sobbed loudly until it was time for you to leave, and you waved goodbye with tears streaming down your face.

This is definitely the hardest goodbye you have ever had to go through.

Somehow you made your way to the airport in one piece, already waiting on the first flight home. Suddenly it occurred to you that you must inform Chris; you can't return to your parents without him.

You realize what has happened to your phone and can't reach him at that moment. When you started panicking about how to call him, you heard his voice through the airport.

''Y/N!'' he shouted, and it echoed through the airport. ''Y/N, where are you!'' he said again, and you quickly stood up to follow where the voice came from.

''Chris? How did you-'' is all you say before he reaches you and envelops you in a big hug.

''It's okay, Bubby, everything will be okay,'' he shushes you as you rock back and forth while you completely break down in his arms.

When you had calmed down a little, Chris went to grab a water bottle and got recognized by some fans, but he politely told them that now wasn't a good time for a photo, but he did sign some quick autographs.

He returns with 2 bottles of water and hands one to you before twisting the other for himself.

''What happened?'' he asks as he sits beside you.

''My Dad called and said she was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, she had a nasty fall down the stairs and broke many bones, and she was unconscious when the ambulance arrived,'' you tell him as he pulls you in for a big hug.

''She's going to be okay, Bubby. She's a lot stronger than she looks,'' he tells you, and you know he's right.

''I'm glad to have you by my side, and I think they would be pleased to see you again,'' you tell him, thinking back to the first time they met Chris.

''Are you ready to meet them?'' you ask, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

''As ready as I'll ever be,'' he sighs as the two of you head into your parents' house. You have been together for nearly 6 months, and they invited both of you over for a family dinner.

''Good afternoon, I'm Chris,'' he says as he introduces himself to your parents.

''Oh, Y/N, you didn't mention you're dating the famous Chris Evans!'' your Mom joked, knowing full well you told them to prepare them.

''Just kidding, Chris, Y/N has told us all about you. It's nice to finally meet the man who makes her look like she's glowing,'' she says, and you have the widest smile on your face.

''I told you they'd like you!'' you say as the two of you walk out to the garden, ready to meet the rest of the family too.

''Yeah, yeah, you were right!'' he says before leaning down and giving you a soft peck on your lips.

The flight went on without a hitch, and before you knew it, you were in your Dad's arms, crying as you finally felt the release of being back home and back with your Mom.

''Darling, thank you so much for coming, and you too, Chris,'' he says as he nods to him.

''Anything for Y/N, and of course, you and Lily, too,'' he says. He walks over to both of you and softly brushes your hair out of your face before kissing the top of your head.

''When can we go see her?'' you ask, and your Dad tells you it should be soon.

''I believe she's coming out of surgery at any moment now,'' he says, and you nod before sitting down with either one of them on your sides.

You reach out for both of their hands, and your gaze is fixed on the door; Chris strokes your hand softly with his thumb.

After what seems like an eternity, she gets wheeled through the doors, and you shoot up, practically running to her with tears streaming down your face again.

''Mom! Mom, I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you when you fell. But I'm here now, and I won't leave your side until you're all better,'' you ramble, even though she's not even conscious yet.

''Bubby, come on. Let's sit by her bed until she wakes up, okay?'' Chris says, and you nod, letting the nurse put the bed into place.

Chris sinks into one of the chairs beside the bed and pulls you onto his lap so you're sitting sideways on his thighs. Your head is leaning against his shoulder, and after all the stress and not knowing, you slowly drift off to sleep in the warmth and safety of Chris' arms.

''Bubby, wake up,'' he says softly after about 2 hours; he and your Dad have been wrapped up in conversations the entire time you were asleep, careful not to wake you.

''Honey? Is that you?'' you hear, and suddenly you're wide awake and next to your Mom's hospital bed.

''Mom, I'm here. You're okay, you took a bad fall down the stairs, but you're going to make a full recovery,'' you tell her while you hold her hand.

''Chris is here too, and Dad as well,'' you tell her, and she slowly turns her head.

''Hi, Lily; I'm sorry about what happened”, Chris says as he walks over to hold your Mom's hand.

''You have always been my favorite son-in-law, you know that?'' she says, and all three of you burst out in laughter. ''What's so funny?'' your Mom asks, and you're just happy she can still joke.

''I missed you so much, and I love you, Mom,'' you tell her and give her a soft kiss on her forehead.

''I love you too, Honey. Thank you for coming all this way to see me,'' she says, and the rest of the night is spent in light conversations and laughter until it is time to go home.

''Do you two want to sleep in your old room, or will you book a hotel?'' your Dad asks.

''We will stay with you, but only if we get waffles in the morning!'' you tell him, and he agrees.

''Deal,'' he says, and all three of you walk out of the hospital and to the car, all in dire need of rest.

''I love you, Chris. Thank you for being here with me,'' you say as he hugs you again.

''There's nowhere else I'd rather be,'' he says before kissing your lips passionately, lovingly.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans one shot #chris evans request #chris evans imagine #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff

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runa-falls · 5 months

Note

Hey I haven’t been on here for so long but I was just wondering did you ever post sharing is caring part 2?

sharing is caring

pairing: ari levinson x reader

summary: you meet your new neighbor.

a/n: hi old friend! unfortunately, i don't write for chris evans anymore 😬 BUT, surprisingly, i looked in my google drive and found that i apparently did write a part two??? so here???

part 1 | part 3 (?)

---

After the incident, you refused to speak to either of them. You ran up the creaky stairs and barricaded yourself in your room. Thoughts ran rampant inside your mind, berating and hurtful, and you felt like you could barely breathe.

In the beginning of your isolation, you gave in to your initial instinct and cried. At that point, all you wanted was to embrace the hurt and confusion you were left with. Ask yourself all the questions to keep yourself feeling.

How could Ari betray you like that? And with your best friend most of all?

You thought he loved cared about you, but obviously, he didn’t. It’s like he moved on to his next conquest without hesitation. And even when he was caught, he only pressed into her harder–right in front of your face.

He didn’t even have the decency to stop.

It’s eye opening that even after all the time you spent together, he’s just as emotionally disconnected from you as when he was strictly your stepfather. Did he ever love you? Or were you just another notch in his belt?

Then, at some point, there weren’t any more tears to cry. After your explosion of emotions settled, you were left to stew in your thoughts instead. The rest of your isolation was just a time to reflect. To process what happened.

Everything comes rushing back, but this time you’re watching everything unfold from the outside.

Now, you feel like you should’ve known this would happen.

He’s twice your age, asking for things that only you would fulfill because you’re helplessly looking for his love and affection.

It was all a ruse. You were just a convenience. Someone to warm his bed at night, just another girl to have on call whenever he wanted. Just like Lila, like…your mom.

Lila.

Finally, the embarrassment of your actions settled in. You physically cringe every time you think of Lila’s reaction from that night. You were weak. Desperate. You let yourself go, all for a man who doesn’t give a single shit about you. And even through all the tears and choked-out sobs, you still laid yourself at his feet like an obedient pet.

You desperately tried to grasp the hurt to your chest, wanting to hate her, but there was a meddling thought ringing in the back of your mind. Lila didn’t know. An annoying little voice reminds you that she did exactly what you did. She fucked Ari because he’s an enticing older man who can make you feel like you’re the most desirable girl in the world.

The pity you once showed yourself is ripped away by that single thought.

If anything, your situation is worse. He is married to your mom. She’s the closest family you have, and you tore away Ari like it was nothing. It’s like a primal mind took over, blocking out every technicality of the relationship, only focusing on one thing. Ari.

—

The day Lila flew back home, she sat with her back against your door, thinking she was helplessly speaking on deaf ears. You could hear how her throat tightened as she spewed out apologies.

“Please talk to me…I swear, I didn’t know.” While you were initially hurt, you realized you can’t be angry with her, she genuinely had no idea you were involved with Ari. You just can’t bring yourself to face her after she saw how pathetic you were, groveling at the feet of a cruel man. “Look, I get if you hate me-”

“I… don’t hate you.” You finally answer, voice raspy from your crying. She’s silent, realizing that this is the first time you’ve talked in a while.

“Y-you don’t?”

Despite your initial hesitations, you open the door, hugging your arms over your body with insecurity. She swiftly scoots away and pushes herself up, facing you with glassy eyes and a reddened nose.

“I just—you must think I’m disgusting.” You wince as the words squeak out, sheepishly glancing at her, trying to decipher her thoughts. “Doing that with Ari…letting him treat me like that. It was–fucking pathetic.”

“Oh, honey.” She slowly approaches you with sad eyes, pulling you into an embrace. You can’t help the sob that works its way up your throat as she pets down your hair, soothing your stuttered breaths. “You are not pathetic. He took advantage of both of us.” You nod into her chest, tears bleeding through her shirt.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m sorry I fell for that… 70’s porno-looking asshole.” You snort against her, giggling at her attempt to insult him. She lets out a breath as the mood of the room lightens. “I know it’s going to take a while for us to get over this, but just remember that you’re my number one. No matter what, okay?” You squeeze her tighter, knowing she’ll have to leave soon.

“Ok.”

—

You’ve been simply floating through life since Lila left, trying to avoid any type of interaction with your stepdad. You continue to hole yourself up in your room, leaving your poor mother to worry about your behavior change.

Luckily she doesn’t ask too many questions when Ari tells her you haven’t been feeling too good these past few weeks.

“Honey, I brought you some peaches! Cut them up just how you like it.” Her voice is slightly muffled by the door, but her high-pitched tone somehow booms through it.

You reluctantly slide off your bed, slightly patting down your intense bed head. You only crack open the door, not wanting to talk for long, worried a certain man would pass by.

You just can’t take the sad, longing gazes he sends you. For some reason, he doesn’t get why you don’t want to talk to him, or even be in the same room as him. He acts so innocently and casually around your mom like nothing ever happened.

“Thanks, mom.”

“Are you okay, sweetie?” She doesn’t know what she’s asking. That question never fails to push you over the edge. You swallow deeply, staring at the peaches to avoid eye contact.

“Yeah, just a bit under the weather.” You gently take the bowl from her, forcing an appreciative smile her way.

“Okay. Well, it’s just you and me tonight.” Your ears perk up and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Is there anything specific you want for dinner”

“Whatever is easiest. I can help make some cauliflower.” She’s taken aback by your sudden pep.

“Alright. Take your time though, and maybe wash your hair?”

—

You’ve forced yourself to make peace with what happened and accepted that Ari is someone you’ll have to live with. If he could act like nothing happened, so could you. You were done playing the pathetic broken girl.

“Honey!” You’re halfway down the creaky stairs when you hear your mom call out from the kitchen. She must’ve heard your steps.

“Hm?” You see her through the doorway, standing next to an impressive vase of orchids. Oh, orchids. If there’s one thing you know, orchids mean there’s a new neighbor. And a new neighbor means you’ll have to–

“-take them over to 205? They just moved in and I haven’t had a chance to greet them yet.” You’ve done this ritual every time someone remotely close to your house has moved in. Your mom fixes the bow that she expertly tied to the front of it before proudly admiring her work.

“You know, I really would, but it’s, like, 90 degrees outside and-”

She folds her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow, “Didn’t you mention wanting to borrow the car tomorrow?”

You didn’t even realize that someone had moved into the house in front of yours. But in your defense, it happened a few weeks ago during your breakdown of dramatics. Of course, no one in the house has had a chance to meet the new neighbor, so you’ll have to do the honors.

The orchids are heavy in your arms as you walk across the street, conveniently covering up your line of sight from how tall they are. Your mom must be upping the height and weight of these things every time she sends you to a new house!

Not having an extra hand to extend, you gently stab your elbow into the doorbell. You have to shift the weight of the vase to your other arm as your muscles start to cramp up while you wait. You only notice that the perfectly placed bow is hidden against your chest when you vaguely hear someone approaching the door.

You carefully watch the flowers as you rotate the heavy ceramic in your arms, making sure nothing gets damaged (or pokes out your eye) as you try to make everything presentable. The door opens before you can slap on one of your signature ‘greetings-new-neighbor’ smiles, but it doesn’t really matter because your whole face is covered in the orchid’s shrubbery.

“That for me?” Your attempt to reorient the vase is halted as a velvety voice catches you off guard. Your eyes are still shaded by the vegetation as you wordlessly extend your arms to offer him the vase.

“Yes, I’m, uh, your neighbor from across the street.” He, thankfully, takes the vase from you before your arms can give out and drop them onto his porch.

You shake out the strain of your muscles as you look up to meet his eyes, mentally grimacing at your weakness. Your prepared mundane pleasantries evaporate off your tongue when you finally see your new neighbor. You weren’t expecting a devastatingly handsome man to stare back down at you, offering you an endearing crooked smile.

He teasingly tests the weight of the flowers in his arms as he considers your small frame with amused eyes. “I’m impressed you carried over this floral monstrosity all by yourself.”

“Actually, I was really struggling with it at the end there. You kind of saved me from dropping it.” You give him a bashful smile, still starstruck by the clean-shaven man in front of you.

“Well, I’m glad I was there to swoop in and be your hero.” You have difficulty keeping eye contact with the tall blond, intimidated by his gracious presence. “So what’s your name, cookie?”

You can’t help but giggle at the unusual endearment. “Cookie?”

His eyebrows shoot up in playful shock, “Oh, so I got it right on the first try?” You snort in amusement before offering your name.

“Hm, well I think cookie fits better,” He adjusts the flowers to rest against his hip. “a sweet name, for a sweet girl.” You bite back a girlish squeal as your stomach flutters from his attention. You’re a sucker for affection and praise. “You doing anything right now? I could use some help putting these flowers in a pretty spot and you look like you’ve got a good eye.”

You bite your lip, flipping the offer in your head. You don’t have much time to think before you hear someone yelling your name behind you. Steve’s eyes glance over your shoulder to your house, and you turn to follow his gaze.

Ari stands there with his hands resting on his hips, “Mom wants you to help with dinner.”

“But–She just sent me over with the flowers…?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, sweetheart.” You wince at the pet name. This is the first time he’s called you that in a while. You don’t respond, simply turning back to Steve with an apologetic smile.

“Is that your dad?”

“Uh, step, but yeah. I’m sorry, I, um, have to go.”

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. Maybe another day?” He bites his lip, baby blue eyes wide as he waits for your response. You grin back, offering him a gentle nod.

“Sure.”

“Ok, cookie, see you later.”

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #sharing is caring #anon

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f10werfae · 1 year

Note

was teacher! chris pissed if some random single guys looking at single now married mom! reader's big breast! think of Chris "punishing" his wife.

Now Husband!Chris x Busty!Mom!Reader are married they’re attached to the hip, as if they’re teenagers in love, but with two kids also attached to the hips. Chris and Mom!Reader go on date nights every week, and go on small vacations every two months, an overnight getaway every two weeks. So they’re very much in love. Chris and Leon have their father son dates ALL THE TIME, even more than him and Y/n😭 It’s no secret that Mom!Reader gets ogled at all the time due to her extremely well gifted chest, but if Chris caught someone… That’s another story.

“Oi, Watch it. Don’t you have any respect for women?!” He’d shout while pushing the stroller of his baby girl, and holding Leon’s hand in the other; Y/n chuckling down the grocery aisle listening to her husband shout at the stranger. Once they get home, kids are getting their precious nap times or get dropped off at Chris’ mom’s house who absolutely loves Leon and Lana.

With Y/n still wearing front clasped bras, Chris easily opens her button up and unclasps causing her breasts to bounce out in the open, leading to a whole night of activities of Chris reminding her who she belongs to, and specifically who her tits belong to

#faesthoughts #chris evans x single!mom!reader #fae chris thoughts

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pagesoflauren · 2 years

Text

House of Stone (4/5)

feat. professor!Andy Barber x student!single mom!reader

Premise: Spin-off/sequel to Wooden Façade; Settling into his new life as a bachelor, Andy is helping his brother Ari prepare for his wedding to their mother’s former nurse. Between wedding planning and teaching, you enter his life and your eccentric one-year-old daughter catches his attention.

Warnings: mentions of sudden death, divorce, familial conflicts, spousal conflicts, a custody battle, pregnancy, and Parkinson’s disease; Laurie Barber slander; teacher-student friendship; romantic/sexual tension; awkward and cringey moments; blindsiding siblings (Ari and Bunny are menaces to Andy); Andy wears glasses and is a hot professor

A/N: This portion of House of Stone covers a FICTIONAL custody battle. While I have tried my best to do research and depict everything as accurately as possible, I do not claim to have any professional knowledge of custody battle proceedings. This is fanfiction. Please take it as such. Advice is always welcome, but hurtful and rude comments will be removed and the commenter will be blocked.

Important to note that the events of Defending Jacob do not occur before, during, or after this series. Andy and Laurie are divorced and Jacob lives with Laurie.

Thank you as always to @eightcevanscentral

Read Wooden Façade here

House of Stone Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Andy places his glasses on his nose, blinking a few times to relieve the strain in his eyes as they try to focus on the evidence in front of him.

Initially, there was an arrangement between the two of you to split the cost of a Family & Custody lawyer. Andy tried his best to use all the resources available to him to find the best one, but Troy’s parents’ lawyer had other plans.

Every lawyer he had called and presented your case to had declined on the basis that they had already met with Troy’s parents.

Andy grew irate, throwing in the towel and realizing if he wants something done, he’d have to do it himself.

Still, you offered to pay.

“I don’t want your money, Teddy.”

“But, Andy, I couldn’t possibly–that’s so much work on top of what you already do as a professor, please–”

“Absolutely not,” he shook his head, placing his hand on top of yours. “Nobody would be a better lawyer for this than me. Let me take care of it.”

So, here he was on a Saturday night, running on three hours of sleep and organizing documents showing your clock hours at work, payments to your aunt’s daycare, and your transcripts at the university instead of grading papers.

Andy had called your aunt and cousin to testify on your behalf. With them, there was a solid case for you to keep Ivy. Still, you worried nonetheless. If he was honest, he was nervous too. He knew any level of custody granted to Troy’s parents would be a break in the dam; the water would surely engulf you and sweep Ivy away.

Still, he would do his damn best to make sure you wouldn’t lose her.

- - - - -

“Calling the case of Abernathy vs. Y/L/N for the custody of Ivy Paige Abernathy to order.”

The judge taps her gavel twice and a hush falls over the courtroom.

You exhale shakily, fingers folded on top of the table while your hands tremble. Another hand covers yours, squeezing tightly. Looking to your left, Andy gives you a reassuring smile.

Deep breaths, he mouths.

You nod, drawing in air through your nose and breathing out through your mouth. Craning your neck, you spy Ivy sitting quietly with your aunt and Winnie.

Seeing her now, she’s so big, grown so much since she was born. You remember looking into her face during endless nights, sobbing as she slept. Resigning yourself to being a single mother wasn’t easy and some days it’s still hard to get out of bed. Everything you do is for her; you recall so many moments when you were happy to be in her company.

“It’s you and me, Ivy,” you’d say to her. “I will never leave you.”

Your lip trembles at the thought that any of the coming nights could be the last one you spend with her.

“Mr. Siegel,” the judge addresses their lawyer, “You may stand and make the opening statement for the plaintiff.”

Slowing down your breaths, you try to keep yourself composed as the lawyer representing Troy’s parents stands.

“Your honor, Benjamin and Constance Abernathy tragically lost their only child, Troy, nearly two years ago. While they have many dear memories of him, they have been wrongly barred from seeing their only grandchild; the child that Troy fathered. Today, they’re here, fighting for rights they shouldn’t need to fight for because the defendant continues to act selfishly to keep her daughter to herself.”

Your hands unfold, closing into tight fights as your muscles begin to tighten. Next to you, Andy tenses as well, inhaling sharply.

Looking around, you see the judge nodding intently. Her eyes flicker toward you every once in a while and you don’t like the impression you’re passively making on her built on lies being eloquently spewed out by a lawyer.

The stenographer types quickly, putting every accusation on the record. Your heart sinks; you don’t feel confident in your chances.

“This trial shouldn’t even need to happen. As grandparents–Ivy’s last connection to her father– they are entitled to at least partial custody for Ivy.”

He sits down, and Troy’s parents appear to cry.

There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you look at them. You considered them an extension of your family once; they welcomed you with open arms, fed you, kept you safe, and gave generously.

Now, they were trying to take away your entire world. Perhaps it was some strange form of retribution. You suspect they believe that if Troy hadn’t been with you the night he died, maybe he would still be here today.

The judge turns to you and Andy. “Mr. Barber, please stand and make the opening statement for the defendant.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Andy nods, standing. He smooths down his jacket and looks at you once more before facing the judge.

“Ma’am, Miss Y/L/N is a single mother pursuing a law degree to give her daughter a better life. Her world revolves around Ivy. When she and Mr. Troy Abernathy first discovered she was pregnant, they were immediately cut off from support systems with the exception of one relative, who continues to care for Ivy to this day. That relative is looking after Ivy presently.

“If Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy wanted to care for Ivy, they would have been providing care for her without the need for a lawsuit based on no foundations. Their attorney claims they have been ‘wrongfully barred,’ from seeing their granddaughter. However, he failed to mention that they attempted to forcibly take Ivy away a week after she was born when my client was in an extremely vulnerable position. She was still recovering from giving birth and mourning the man she loved.”

Andy swallows, pressing down the hurt that rises in his chest at the idea that you loved someone before you met him, and if he hadn’t died, you most likely would’ve still been with him.

Clearing his throat, he continues, “The plaintiff calls my client selfish. I can assure you that the evidence we have and testimonies of witnesses can prove that she is not. She is a single mother doing everything she can to make sure her daughter does not know a day of pain.”

He sits back down and looks at you. Your eyes are watery and you throw him a half-hearted smile, something to show your gratitude. He can see past the smile, sensing your nerves fraying as you listen to the judge tell the Abernathys they can move forward with testimonies.

Constance goes to the stand first. You remember her being so warm and gentle; nothing like the stoic face she wears as she approaches the stand, placing her hand on the Bible and swearing to tell the truth.

She sits and Siegel stands to question her.

“Mrs. Abernathy, would you please explain your relationship to Miss Y/L/N?”

She sighs shortly. “She was like my daughter. We adored her; it was easy to. She made my son happy and she got along with me and my husband very well.”

“How did your relationship change?”

Another sigh, a longer one this time. “When it was found out she was pregnant, she made him cut all contact with us.”

Your fists clench in your lap. So much for the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, you think to yourself.

You recall Andy advising you to control your emotions as much as possible. The ability to keep a neutral face diminishes with every word Constance says.

She sniffles as she finishes, manufactured tears slipping down her cheeks as her lawyer tells her she can step down.

Benjamin goes next, spewing more lies to bury you deep in a trench you may never hope to get out of. Your heart nearly stops when your name is called to come to the stand.

Legs shaking, you rise from your chair and nearly forget how to walk. Every step is a conscious effort as you do your best to move forward and ignore the looks being thrown your way.

The bailiff holds up a Bible and instructs you to raise your right hand.

“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you, God?”

Your mouth opens, but words struggle to come out. Paralyzed by your nerves, you know hesitation does not help your case at all.

“I-I do,” you manage, then clear your throat. “I do solemnly swear.”

“You may take a seat.”

The walled-in seat of the stand looks claustrophobic. Your movements are clumsy as you step in and lower yourself into the chair. On this side of the courtroom, next to the judge and so far away from Andy, you feel vulnerable; a sitting duck to be struck down at any moment. Locking eyes with Andy, he motions for you to breathe. Drawing air into your chest, you blink away tears.

“How are you today, Miss Y/L/N?”

“Objection,” Andy speaks. “Relevance?”

“Believe it or not, Mr. Barber, you are not the only one who cares about your client’s well-being.”

“I’ll allow it,” the judge speaks. “It’s a simple question, dear. Nothing to be afraid of.”

You nod. “I’m good–”

“Please speak up, miss, the stenographer needs to hear you.”

“I’m good,” you repeat, voice cracking.

“Good,” Mr. Siegel smiles, though you can see the venom in his eyes. “Tell me, what does a typical day look like for both you and Ivy.”

Easy question, you can answer it, you tell yourself.

“Well, I wake up at 6:30 to get ready for work, then Ivy wakes up around 7:00. I give her breakfast, usually yogurt or oatmeal. I drop her off at Rising Sun Day Care at around 8:15, 8:30 and go to work afterward. Work ends around 5, I pick up Ivy from daycare; if I have a class that evening, I pick up Winnie too because she volunteers there after school and I make dinner for all three of us. Class starts at 7:15 so I leave around 6:30 to drive to BU and come back around 10:00. Winnie then calls her mom and she comes and picks her up.”

“I see. And what kind of experience does a sixteen-year-old like Winnie have to watch a one-year-old?”

“Objection, speculation,” Andy grunts.

“Sustained.”

“Let me rephrase the question,” Mr. Siegel appeases, “What made you trust a sixteen-year-old to have the common sense to watch a one-year-old for three hours in an evening?”

“I’ve known Winnie her whole life,” you begin. “She’s always been responsible and…nurturing.” You look around to try and find the right words to defend your decision. “Her mother is a certified child caregiver and preschool director, so Winnie’s been taught how to care for young children her whole life.”

“And when did you make the decision to abandon your child in the evening to pursue a career?”

Your heart drops; what kind of question is that?

“Objection, leading.” Andy sounds angry.

“Sustained.”

“I’ll rephrase. Why pursue your career now? Why not wait until Ivy is a little bit older to pursue your degree?”

You breathe in. “We’re not…I’m not…I wasn’t in a position where I could really stand on my own and take care of her. Troy was working nonstop when I was pregnant with her and we had some savings but I had to use them for supplies and essentials. I knew I had to work to make sure I could provide for her. And I knew that being a receptionist wasn’t sustainable as a career and I just thought it would be easier to do this now so that later I wouldn’t have to leave her.”

“Plaintiff’s exhibit A,” Mr. Siegel says, grabbing a piece of paper and showing it to the judge. “Could you read this please, Miss Y/L/N?”

Taking the sheet from him, you recite a passage from a scientific study on child psychology. You know what this is; it states that children who do not receive the proper amount of affection and comfort from parents are more likely to develop a plethora of developmental and emotional disorders.

You also understand what it implies about your parenting.

“Did you consider that when you were making arrangements for Winnie to babysit for Ivy as you leave her in the evenings?”

“Objection, your honor. My client can’t see into the future.”

“But she can synthesize information from a watershed scientific study and make decisions based on the study.”

“I’ll allow it.”

You purse your lips, understanding you have to answer the question. “I don’t like leaving her in the evenings. I made that decision to establish a career for myself so that I can provide for her later in life and not have to miss out on spending time with her when she gets older.”

“And what is Ivy’s disposition when it comes to new people?”

“She loves people,” you say, “She’s very social.”

“Could it be that she’s seeking out the attention that she’s lacking from you?”

Andy shouts this time, “Objection!”

“Withdrawn.”

Your lip quivers and your vision blurs, tears streaming down your face.

“Miss, you may exit the stand.”

You tremble the entire way back to your seat, eyes cast down as the judge announces the court is adjourned for the day.

Andy ushers you out of the room and your aunt sweeps you into her arms as you all gather in the corridor of the courthouse.

“Oh, my dear,” she coos, “I’m so sorry it started out this way.”

You can’t muster the words to express your despair and anxiety, only sobbing into the shoulder of her blazer.

“Let’s get some food,” Winnie suggests quietly, passing a hand over your hair and propping Ivy up on her hip.

“Momma,” Ivy whines, reaching for you.

Your stomach grumbles loudly as you take her and your aunt teases you while reminding you it’s important to take care of yourself during this time.

Nodding, you wipe your tears and take a deep breath, pressing a kiss to Ivy’s cheek to help ground you.

“Andy,” your aunt calls to him. He looks up from his phone. “Would you like to join us?”

“I’d love to but,” he sighs, “I can’t. It’s my son, I have to pick him up.”

“Okay, well, we’ll see you next time.”

“Yeah,” he nods. His eyes lock with you and he pulls you and Ivy in for a hug. “It’ll be okay.”

You don’t react beyond an exhale; no nod, no headshake, nothing to indicate your hope. His heart sinks, but he releases you, wishing he could be in two places at once.

Before he can fully part from you, he feels a tug on his neck. Looking down, his tie is fisted in Ivy’s little hand. When his eyes meet hers, he sees the worry on her face.

“Deedee,” she mumbles sadly.

She pulls again, urging him closer, and presses her face into his cheek, a small comforting kiss.

“Aww, thank you, baby bear,” he coos quietly. Then, he looks at you. “I’ll see you guys soon, okay?”

He can see you steeling your face, trying to mask your emotions behind a look of false bravery. Sighing, he says a final goodbye and wishes he could be in two places at once.

- - -

“Jacob,” Andy calls as he rolls down the window of his car, “the hell are you doing out here?”

“I just wanted to spend time with you,” he shrugs.

Sighing, Andy reaches over and opens the passenger door. “Get in, I’ll park in the garage and we’ll go in together.”

They’re silent on their way to the apartment, but once inside, Andy interrogates him again. “You called me a bunch of times and I saw your texts, but why didn’t you just wait? I would’ve picked you up from your mom’s.”

Jacob looks guilty as his eyes drift to the floor. “I just…couldn’t wait.”

Sensing there’s something more that his son doesn’t want to talk about yet, Andy decides to drop the subject. “Well, next time, just try to wait until I can pick you up. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had gotten hurt.”

Nodding, Jacob looks at his father before rushing him, wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning on his shoulder.

Andy is taken aback, not accustomed to the show of affection from his son. He hasn’t seen him often in the past two years and it almost feels new. With an exhale, he hugs him too, patting his head.

“What do you want for dinner?”

- - - - -

Since the first day in court, Jacob had been coming every weekend, sometimes more than a weekend. It led to more interactions between Andy and Laurie, figuring out driving arrangements so that not all of the transportation was her responsibility.

“Morning, Dad,” Jacob smiles, coming into the kitchen.

“Morning, kid,” he replies, pointing to the plate set up for him on the dining table.

“Did you make pancakes?”

“And bacon and eggs; and you’re gonna finish your plate. You need a…”

“Balanced breakfast,” Jacob finishes for his father. “I know.”

They sit at one end of the table and Jacob dishes on his experiences at school.

“...and finals suck.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Andy smirks, piercing a piece of pancake on his fork, “Your teachers hate finals too.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think we like grading?”

Jacob shrugs, a silent answer of, You have a point. As he chews on a slice of bacon, he looks toward the documents littering the other side of the table. “Are those all the papers you have to grade?”

“Oh, no,” Andy shakes his head. “That’s…uh. Well, I took a case.”

“What?” his son asks incredulously. “Are you serious? I thought you were done with that.”

“Thought I was too, but it was a special circumstance.”

“What do you mean?”

Andy pauses, trying to figure out how much he can share without being indiscreet. “One of my students is a single mom of a one-year-old. Her boyfriend died before their daughter was born, and now his parents are trying to claim custody of the girl.”

“Like…like full custody?” Jacob prods. “They wanna take her away?”

“Mhmm.”

“Why?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Andy shakes his head. “But sometimes people don’t have good reasons for their actions, you know?”

He sees his son deflate a little. “That’s awful. She must be really upset.”

Swallowing, Andy feels his heart squeeze at the memory of your devastated face as you cried and told him what was happening.

“She is. That’s why I’m helping her.”

Jacob nods and bites off another serving of bacon, looking thoughtful as he chews. “Can I help?”

“What have I told you about talking with your mouth–”

He swallows quickly and washes his food down with a drink of juice before repeating the question, “Can I help? You know, help you look through the documents and stuff? I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Andy’s surprised. He’s not sure where this eagerness to help comes from. He’s more familiar with the practice of side-by-side working with his son; he recalls nights when he would stay up reviewing evidence while his son constructed projects on the floor.

Working with his son was new. But not a bad kind of new.

He smiles. “I think that’d be great.”

- - -

The day flies by as the Barber boys fry their brains looking at page after page and writing notes based on the information they’ve gathered. They’ve moved from the dining table to the floor, papers spread out everywhere in some sort of organized chaos. Fueled by greasy pizza and garlic bread, they realize while Ivy’s grandparents don’t have much of a leg to stand on for claiming full custody, there’s not much that can stop the judge from granting them partial custody.

They have no criminal history, no financial troubles, and live in a good neighborhood.

“Hey dad,” Jacob says with his mouth full again.

Andy ignores it, swallowing a bite of pizza and burping a little. “What is it?”

“You’re getting a call. ‘Daria Ahmandi.’”

Furrowing his brows, he takes the phone and answers the call, “Daria.”

“Hi, Andy, sorry to call you on a weekend but earlier this week, I finally got your message about the custody battle for…Abernathy. Ivy Abernathy?”

“Oh,” Andy sighs, “Right. I’m sorry to have bothered you, I ended up taking the case–”

“That’s perfect, then,” she says.

“What do you mean?”

“The name of the girl caught my attention, and then in your message, you mentioned Troy Abernathy, and I remembered I wrote his will.”

The world stands still for a moment as Andy processes what she’s saying. He reaches for Jacob, hearing an audible smack.

“Ow! Dad, what the–”

Looking at his son as he holds his nose, Andy realizes he accidentally hit him in the face.

“Sorry, kiddo, but write this down. Quickly!”

He watches his son scramble to grab his pencil and a notepad before nodding. Removing the phone from his ear, he puts the call on speaker so that Jacob can take notes.

“Daria, you wrote his will?”

“Yes.”

“Jacob, was there a will in any of these documents?”

“Um…” Jacob begins to look around.

“Andy, you won’t find the will there because it was never fulfilled.”

“What do you mean?”

“I reached out to his parents after his death to discuss the execution of his will because they were named caretakers of his assets but they never replied.”

“Who was supposed to receive his assets?” It’s a bit of a dumb question; Andy can probably guess.

“Ivy Paige Abernathy and Y/N Y/L/N, his girlfriend at the time–I think he was planning to propose to her. And she’s Ivy’s mother, I understand.”

“Yes, yes, she is,” Andy says, locking eyes with his son and smiling.

Checkmate.

- - - - -

“Defense calls Benjamin Abernathy to the stand.”

Your head whips toward Andy to look at him.

What the hell is he doing?

Shrugging, Benjamin approaches the stand and sits down, crossing his legs and foldings his hands as he waits for Andy to question him.

“Mr. Abernathy, do you know the name of Ivy’s pediatrician?”

“Objection, your honor. Relevance.”

For a moment, you almost agree with Mr. Siegel. You don’t know where Andy is going with this line of questioning.

“Your honor, this kind of question speaks to whether the Abernathys are capable of caring for Ivy. Mr. Abernathy should have no problem answering basic questions about his granddaughter.”

“Objection overruled. Answer the question, Mr. Abernathy.”

His eyes drift to the side for a moment before shaking his head. “Um, not off the top of my head, no.”

“Her name is Dr. Barra. Do you know if she has any allergies?”

“Troy never had any allergies, so I assume not.”

You huff quietly to yourself, knowing that doesn’t make any sense.

“She’s allergic to penicillin and peaches. Do you know what her favorite stuffed animal is?”

“Surely it’s the little elephant Constance and I gave her the week after she was born.”

“If you had been paying attention and looked at her the entire time you were on the stand, you would see that it’s the stuffed monkey her father gifted her before his passing.”

You look back at the seating area, finding Ivy in your aunt’s lap playing with the toy in question.

“It is clear, Mr. Abernathy, that you know nothing about this child. So why are you so adamant you know what’s best for her?”

“Well, we would know these things if Y/N had let us take on more of a role with Ivy.”

He looks right at you as he makes the jab. You swallow, doing your best to keep your trust in Andy about this.

“Why wait until now? If this was about being there for Ivy, why not support Miss Y/L/N during her pregnancy?”

Benjamin makes a show of looking down as if he was taking a moment to mourn his son. Andy bites the inside of his cheek. If he could, he would’ve told him to drop the act.

“Objection, your honor. We’ve made it clear that Miss Y/L/N cut contact between herself and Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy.”

The judge thinks for a moment. “Overruled. Answer the question, Mr. Abernathy.”

Benjamin sighs. “We were in mourning, we needed time to process everything.”

“I understand,” Andy nods. He hears a scoff from behind him, probably Constance. “No, I do,” he turns back. “But you and your wife mourn your son by leaving his fiancée alone with no resources?”

“We weren’t in any shape to take care of anyone, let alone a pregnant woman.”

Andy’s stoic face drops for a moment, satisfaction settling over him knowing he got him right where he wants him.

“You say you were in no condition to take care of another person, much less the mother of your grandchild,” Andy begins, walking back to the Defendant's table and swiping up two folders.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Andy hands one folder to the judge and the other to Benjamin.

“Defense’s exhibits F, G, H, I, and J; the last will of Mr. Troy Benjamin Abernathy; a letter from his lawyer, Mrs. Daria Amandhi, to Mr. Benjamin Abernathy and Mrs. Constance Abernathy in pursuit of executing said will; mortgage payments for the estate of Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy; a receipt of first-class airline tickets to the French Riviera; and the receipt and licensure for a new boat currently docked at Cape Cod.”

At the words “last will,” you sit up on alert. Troy had a will? He never told you.

“You say you were ‘in mourning,’ yet you and Mrs. Abernathy were able to handle your son’s estate, including draining his bank accounts and liquifying his assets.”

“Those things needed to be done, they weren’t easy.”

“No, but it was easy to leave a pregnant woman nearly destitute?”

“She had no claim to our son’s assets.”

“Oh, she didn’t? Please, read aloud from the paper labeled Exhibit F on the top left corner.”

Putting on his glasses, Benjamin flicks through the papers before finding the one he needs.

“‘I, Troy Benjamin Abernathy, being of full age and of sound mind and memory, do make, publish, and declare this to be my last Will and Testament. All the rest of my assets, both liquid and otherwise, I leave to my unborn child in the care of Y/N Y/L/N.’”

You cover your mouth to try and hide your shock. Tears prick the back of your eyes. Your heart wants to leap because Troy thought to do this, but this betrayal is just another added to the pile, weighing you down as you sink into anger.

“Let the record state that the unborn child mentioned is Ivy Paige Abernathy,” Andy addresses the stenographer before turning back to Benjamin. “Did you know this document existed?”

“This is clearly falsified.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Abernathy, that it is not. In fact, he sought out a lawyer two weeks after the doctor’s appointment confirming the pregnancy. You can see the date written at the top of the document, showing that it was filed four months before he passed away.”

Benjamin looks over the document, color draining from his face.

“It quite clearly lists my client as the recipient of your son’s life insurance, bank account, and assets. Additionally, it states a trust should be set up for his unborn child. Has this trust been established, Mr. Abernathy?”

“We-we used the money to pay for his funeral…”

“Really?” Andy feigns shock. “Did the funeral also include paying off the mortgage on your house, a brand new boat, and a trip to France–those expenses equaling the total value of your son’s estate?”

Benjamin flounders as he formulates his response, “We-we didn’t know about the existence of this document.”

“Even if that were true, sir, which I know is not as you can clearly see in Defense’s Exhibit G, your son’s attorney attempted to contact you in the days after his death. If you really truly cared about your grandchild, why would you not take her father’s money and establish a bank account in her name to set her up for the future?”

You want to scream at both him and Constance. How could they do this to you?!

Benjamin’s face begins to flush, stammering out his response, “I don’t see why I’m being attacked for this. Y/N’s parents didn’t help her either!”

Seeing red, you nearly explode but Andy comes to your defense.

“Her parents chose not to be involved and have been consistent in that choice. Unlike you and your wife. And by denying my client access to the assets that were legally hers, you forced her to work days and attend school at night to make a better life for Ivy. You were trying to exacerbate the situation in your favor, weren’t you?”

“No!” he bursts, “Going back to school was her choice.”

“Correct. But let me reiterate: it was a choice she had to make because you denied her access to assets that were hers. By being forced to work during the day, you took her away from Ivy without even being in the room. So the conditions that you have presented that you claim make her an unfit mother are conditions you created based on your decisions to withhold money that was hers.

“Instead of doing what your son trusted you to do, you didn’t. Therefore, it can be assumed that you don’t care about Ivy. You and your wife have burned through the last of your son’s money and are now trying to take the last thing he left behind: his daughter.”

“That’s a lie!”

“I don’t blame you, sir. You want to hold on to what’s left of your boy. But you have no rights here. In fact, you’re looking at a lot more legal trouble in your future.”

“Ob-Objection, your honor–!”

“Withdrawn. I’m done,” Andy interrupts, quickly glancing at the lawyer before looking at the judge. “Your honor, I move to have the case dismissed based on a lack of foundation of evidence that my client is an unfit mother for Ivy.”

“Your honor, I–”

“I think I’ve heard and seen enough, Mr. Siegel,” the judge interjects firmly. “Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy, I cannot begin to express how much time you have wasted on my part, on your counselor’s part, on Miss Y/L/N’s part, on Mr. Barber’s part–I could go on and on. This was clearly a claim filed with malicious intent to further rob a woman of a child that is rightfully hers. Furthermore, your case was not only built on false claims but also based on circumstances that you two have created for her. And I would argue that you did this knowingly.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the judge turns as she addresses you, “I would like to formally apologize to you. Nothing can compensate you for your time and the emotional distress you have faced while this case has been open. However, this is by far one of the easiest decisions I have ever made. It is this court’s decision to award full custody to Miss Y/L/N. Additionally, this court demands the plaintiffs to pay the full amount of what Miss Y/L/N is entitled to per Mr. Troy Benjamin Abernathy’s last will and testament and any additional costs, including fees Miss Y/L/N has incurred as a result of this trial. Case dismissed.”

- - - - -

You’re embarrassed as you stumble a little on the way from Andy’s car into your apartment. Feeling your face heat up as you steady yourself against the wall, you glance over your shoulder.

Everyone encouraged you to indulge at dinner after leaving the courthouse. You think it was the biggest meal you ever had; three courses including a cake all to yourself and a very generous glass of wine. The drink hit you harder than you anticipated, but Ivy is none the wiser to your inebriated state, fast asleep in Andy’s arms as he reaches for you with his free hand.

“You okay?” he chuckles.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “I haven’t had much alcohol since I found out I was pregnant with her,” you sigh. “I used to be able to hold it better.”

“Well, who can fault you for that?” he smiles, making your knees go weak. “You’re a good mother, Teddy.”

He steadies you as you walk the rest of the way to the door. Stopping to dig in your bag for your keys, your eyes rest on your daughter.

“I try,” you say as you reach out to stroke her hair.

“That’s all you can do.”

Smiling at his reassurance, you turn back to open the door and flip the light switch. Andy goes straight to Ivy’s room to set her on her bed and you retreat to your bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes.

Your business casual outfit scratches uncomfortably against your skin, leaving you relieved when you pull on Troy’s old college shirt and some sleep shorts. Coming back to the living room, you find Andy unpacking Ivy’s bag.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you breathe. “You’ve…you’ve done more than enough for her.”

“I’m happy to do it,” he smiles, setting the last of her toys back in the storage bin.

“I can’t thank you for everything you’ve done,” you tell him shyly as he stands. You look down, fiddling with your fingers. “For her and for me.”

Hooking a finger under your chin, Andy tilts your head up to look at him. “You don’t have to thank me.”

You dare to place your hand on the center of his chest, hearing the fabric crinkle under your palm. Your gaze flickers from his eyes to his mouth and every fiber of your body screams for one thing.

Leaning up, you capture his lips with yours, sighing happily when he returns it, wrapping his arms around you. You dart your tongue out and he pulls away, stepping back.

“I’m sorry,” you’re quick to apologize.

“No, Ted, no,” he cups your face and kisses your forehead. “That’s not it,” he mumbles against your skin, voice rumbling soothingly.

“Then what is it?”

“You’re drunk,” he states plainly, licking his lips and tasting traces of wine from your kiss. “And you’re still my student.”

You huff.

His thumb taps on your lower lip, making you retract your pout. “June 11th.”

“What?”

“June 11th,” he repeats. “The day after you graduate. That’s when I’m taking you and Ivy out to dinner. I’ll be coming into some extra cash pretty soon, so I’d like to spoil my girls.”

Your knees finally buckle and you both giggle as he catches you.

My girls.

You and Ivy are his girls. It’s a dreamy thought and you look at the calendar to remind yourself of today’s date. “It’s April 28th,” you sigh, leaning your head on his chest. “June is so far away.”

“I know, Teddy, but I don’t wanna jeopardize your degree.”

“And your job.”

“Oh, fuck my job,” he laughs. “If I could, I’d…”

He never finishes his sentence, leaving so many unsaid desires hanging in the air. The two of you stand there in dissatisfaction, stuck in an unfortunate situation. It's only a matter of time, but he's here now and you're impatient.

“June 11th,” you agree reluctantly, looking up at him and smoothing down a stray strand of hair on the side of his head. “We’ll be free.”

Smiling, he dares to steal one more kiss. “It’s a date.”

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit @astheworlddturns @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @maeleeme @tvckerlance @thiskindahotkindamusic @fizzahocleirigh @marantha @justile

Wood & Stone Taglist: @ghotifishreads @buckysteveloki-me @blackwidownat2814 @wsoldat @sn0wpiercer @aynanasstuff @fluffysmutmnstr @emerald-evans @abbatoirablaze @justalonelyslytherin @mrswidowjohansson @majo240820

#Andy Barber #Andy Barber fanfiction #Andy Barber fanfic #Andy Barber x reader #Andy Barber x single mom!reader #Andy Barber fluff #Andy Barber angst #Chris Evans fanfiction #Chris Evans character #House of Stone #ficsofpagesoflauren

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babyjakes · 2 years

Text

wake up so i can love you right.

[disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here.]

summary | when a tragic car accident puts you in a coma shortly after chris breaks up with you, he finds himself crying at your bedside, telling you all the things he wishes he would have before your life was put on the line.

pairing | ex!chris evans x reader

warnings | angst(!), mentions of a horrific car accident, break-up feels, happy ending even tho maybe chris didn’t deserve it o_O

word count | 1,050

requested by @wecanfeelsofarbutsoclose | I got another idea for ya! So the reader and Chris broke up and while Chris is away he finds out from the readers parents that she was in a car accident and Chris drops everything to see them. While there Chris kind of has this whole little speech to himself talking about how special the reader is to him and he begs her to wake up and give him another chance and she does wake up but does she give Chris another chance?

an | hi i love this :’-) thanks for all the wonderful requests!! i am not sure how comas work and from what research i did on them to write this, it seems like people can retain various amounts of information spoken to them while they are in comas so. for the sake of simplicity, just pretend like reader can hear pretty much everything chris says :-)

“Oh my god,” Chris mumbles under his breath as he enters your hospital room, your parents waiting with heartbreak on their faces in the doorway as he rushes over to your bedside.

“We’ll give you some time with her, alone,” your dad says softly as he and your mom close the door behind you, making their way back to the waiting room. Grabbing one of the fold-out chairs from the wall and collapsing it out onto the floor, Chris takes a seat next to you, tears building in his eyes as he takes in your critical state. Even though your parents had described how terrible of a car crash it had been, nothing could prepare him to see you like this.

Tubes and wires connect your arms to machines. A line of oxygen runs under your nose, bandages partially soaked through with blood covering a good portion of your face. Looking at your pale skin, flushed with angry spots of purple and green, Chris really wonders how you even survived at all. “Y/n,” he whispers, reaching out and taking one of your fragile hands in his. “Oh my god. Y/n.”

For a while, Chris sits in silence. He watches the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest, the simple movement bringing him at least a little bit of comfort. And after a good amount of time, though he isn’t even sure if you can hear him, he decides he can’t take the silence anymore. And he begins to speak.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” he begins. His voice is soft, almost a whisper, and though incredibly vulnerable, his words are true. “I know that must be hard to believe, but it’s true.

“I know this is gonna sound stupid — and it is. It was. I just- god, y/n. God, I was so terrified of ruining you. When I met you, I thought you were the purest, sweetest, most darling girl in the world. And as time went on, as we grew closer to each other, I- I realized that you really were; you were just this perfect angel and I was so scared of hurting you, of breaking you. So I left. I freaked out and I left. And god, there isn’t a single thing I regret in this life more than leaving you.”

Taking a moment to suck in a shaky breath, Chris runs his thumb over the back of your cold hand, shaking his head in shame. “I had a lot to figure out about life, and about myself. And I shouldn’t have chosen to hurt you in order to learn those things, y/n. I have no excuse,” he owns. “But I know now,” he whispers. “I know now that I was wrong. I can’t stand being without you, sweetheart. My baby, my doll. My y/n,” his voice cracks through a sob, his words dripping with regret.

As he continues to look over your broken body, reflecting back on his mistakes, waves of sorrow and grief begin washing over him in floods as the tears rolling down his cheeks steady. “Sweetheart,” he chokes, now wrapping both of his hands around yours. “Please, I- I can’t do this, y/n. I can’t be happy in this life without you in it. I-… I love you, baby. I’ve loved you since the day I met you, and every moment sense. Even when I-… even when I left you. I did it because I-… I thought that was the best way to love you.”

Squeezing your hand through his tears, Chris swallows hard, trying to regain his composure. “I-… please, y/n. Please. Please wake up so I can love you right.”

And by some strange source of grace, as soon as the heartbroken man finishes his words, your hand begins to twitch inside of his hold. Your eyelashes flutter open and your gaze meets his, his blue eyes full of wonder through the tears. “Ch-Chris?” you stutter, startled by your surroundings and all the sudden pain rushing through your whole body.

“Y/n, baby,” Chris breathes, overwhelmed with relief that you’ve opened your eyes. “Hey, easy, sweetheart.” he murmurs as you begin to fuss slightly, shifting over from his chair to the edge of your bed, taking both of your hands and trying to help you calm down.

“Is-… wh-what-… where am I? What-… why are you… why does it-… it hurts,” you whimper at the throbbing pains scattered throughout your shaking form.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, y/n,” Chris coos, reaching out and stroking your hair. “Take some deep breaths, baby. You’re okay; you’re in the hospital. You-… there was an accident,” he says, not sure of what all he should disclose.

“An accident? I- wh-why are you here?” you ask, your voice falling to a mere hush. Chris’s eyes grow wide as you look up at him, hurt and wariness lingering in your gaze. “I-… I heard you. When I was asleep… I heard you talking. I… I thought it… I didn’t know if it was real,” you admit.

“It was real, sweetheart,” Chris promises, locking his gaze with yours. “I came as soon as I heard, y/n. And I… I meant what I said. Every word of it. I didn’t know if you could hear me but I… I wanted to say it, anyway. Just in case.”

“You broke my heart,” you whisper, your gaze falling to your lap as Chris’s heart breaks all over again in his chest.

“Honey, I-…” his voice trails off into the silence of the room as you keep your eyes down, unable to look at him. “I know,” he finally finishes. “And I’m sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, sweetheart. There aren’t words for it; there just aren’t. But I- I promise you, y/n. If you let me love you again, I’ll do it right this time.”

You take a deep breath, ultimately unable to deny your feelings for him, the man who you’ve loved so much all along, even through all the hell he caused. “Okay,” you whisper. Chris breathes a sigh of relief, gently wrapping you up in his arms and kissing you on the side of your head. “P-please don’t ever leave me again,” you beg. “That’s the only way you could ever really hurt me.”

#eun's writing #wake up so i can love you right #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans blurb #chris evans drabble #chris evans headcanon #chris evans one shot #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #hurt/comfort

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