#my granddad is coming over later to see if he can work out how they’re all getting in. until then i wonder if maybe i should just keep

[fingertipsmp3]

AHHHHHHHHH

[dreamescapeswriting]

Unfinished Business ~ Part One

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

WARNINGS: Mentions of mafia, strong language, 

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Reader

DESCRIPTION: Part one of nine of my new Bang Chan series. 

You’re taken hostage but one of Seoul’s leading mafia families Bang Chan but he doesn’t take you because he wants to fake a marriage or make you fall for him in 365 days no...He wants to use you for his own personal gain. To take over another family but when you try to escape things take a turn for the worst and you learn Chan isn’t one to be messed with.(Please I suck at describing stuff)

THEMES: Smut will be included in a later chapter so this is a fic for a mature audience, Chan x Fem!Reader, Self insert

MASTERLIST | NEXT

The cafe was run down and practically going out of business, same for everything on that side of the city though. The place was like a ghost town no one new ever came by any more thanks to all the Big shot mafia families running everything to the ground. Your cafe manager was staring at you as you cleaned up the tables of the small run-down cafe that you worked in. You'd been running late again that week and that's why Mrs Lu was staring at you from across the shop, hands on her hips as she watched you rushing around to finish things up,

"I know I was late but it's been a bad week, my granddad-"

"I don't need your excuse y/n, I need you here on time so you don't rush at the end of your shift." Her tone of voice was one of annoyance and you knew you only had so long until she decided to fire you. She took you in when you were younger and treated you like her own daughter but you were starting to cost the business money and it was a problem. She shut the cash register and walked over to you car keys in hand, she was 4"5 and so short next to you so you smiled at her weakly, 

"It's late, would you like me to drive you over?" You looked out of the cafe window it was pitch black outside, the only thing you could see was the passing car lights and city lights you sighed, you knew it would be a nice to be driven over there but if you showed up in that side of town with her in her car there would be too many questions. Her car was broken and practically falling apart - you could have sworn the car was older than you, you lived a lie on that side of town, on that side of town you were the smart rich kid who went to university and came back to town because she needed a place to stay and needed a job. 

"Alright, just make sure you text me when you get there. I don't like that side of town." There was a reason she hated that side of town and that was because of who ran it, the place was ruled by mafia bosses and if you were there you either worked for them, were stupid or didn't care. You smiled at her, nobody knew about your lie over there and nobody was going to know about it either.

"I will. I'll be fine, I always am." You grabbed your keys for the shutters and threw them in her direction so she could lock up, she was a small lady but she packed a punch...So did the gun she kept behind the counter. You headed out of the door to find a bus down to the other side of town, while you were waiting you called your second boss to let him know you were going to be late.

"It's Y/n, running late. I'll be there and I'll lock up at 4, you can dock my pay too." You hung up the voicemail call and groaned into your hands. You had to get a car but the jobs weren't paying enough even put together it was never going to be enough. It barely covered your rent and grandfathers bills as it was at this point you were seriously considering selling off some organs or maybe doing a bank job. 

You sat on the bus staring out of the window as it drove through the town, 

"Excuse me," You shifted over to the other seat so the older male could take the only available seat next to you and you stared down at the paper he had in his hands. Splashed across the front was Bang Chan, one big photo of him along with an article about something new he'd done that week, he was one of the city's leading people. He ran practically everything in the posher side of town, including the bar you worked in but you never saw him around. You'd only ever heard the stories of him and his goons but none of them bothered with your bar, it was too small for them to like. It wasn't a huge fancy bar they would probably go for, it was a small pub with broken windows and a broken jukebox.

"Handsome, no?" You shook your head looking back up at the man and you laughed softly at his statement,

"Oh no, not my type. Too egotistical for me," Your answer caused the older gentleman laugh and questioned you on what you knew about him, 

"Not much except that he's cold, famous for nothing and thinks he's better than everybody else." The man frowned at you, everyone else who came across Chan seemed to fall head over heels in love with him but you seemed to see him for what he really was. An ill-tempered rich kid with too much money and power than he ever needed. Too much power for someone who had no idea how to use it probably and how he could use it to benefit everyone and not just himself.

"You better hope he doesn't hear you saying this, it could be your head on a stick." You laughed it off as you reached for the bell but his hand clasped over yours and he had a scared look on his face, one look which could only be explained as though he was speaking from experience. 

"I'm serious. Don't let him hear you talking that way," You slowly slipped your hand out from under his and walked off the bus your eyes trained on the man the entire time until the bus pulled away from your stop. 

"Y/n! Shift started an hour ago!" You jumped a little when you saw your boss waving a bar towel around in the air, his bald head was practically glowing in the moonlight and he had his tattoos on display clearly trying to look intimidating to everyone else around him.

"What happened to your car?!" Sid asked cockily as you walked over to him from the bus stop ignoring his question as you avoided cars. Every time he saw you arrive on the bus it was always the same question but you'd avoided it by saying it was in the shop or something was being repaired.

"I'm fucking speaking to you, I've got important people coming in and I need my best waitress." You smiled softly at him, he meant no harm. He loved all of his workers but since he was under Chan he had to be a little stricter with you sometimes, he couldn't afford people messing up his business which ultimately meant Chan's business. 

"What's the big deal, who's coming tonight?" You asked as you reached the bar, the rest of the barmaids were all grouped together and smirking at one another as you walked into the bar. Clearly, they were happy about something but you assumed it was because you'd agreed to lock up since none of them liked to do it, 

"Chan and his ''goons'' are coming over tonight. Want to see if they should keep the place since you're late and you agreed to lock up. You're their girl tonight. You'll give them everything they want no matter the cost." An apron was thrown over your head by one of the girls and she chuckled at you looking you up and down with a disgusted look on her face. Chan was going to chew you up and spit you out the moment he laid eyes on you, 

"Have fun princess, he loves to pry on the new ones." You ignored her comment and pulled the apron down to wrap around your waist, tying it tightly as though it was her neck you were tying it around. You hated her you always had. You weren't scared of Chan, you'd been given no reason to be but everyone you ever came across seemed to be terrified of the man in the suit, even the girls who had been smirking now look relieved that you'd bothered to show up to work at all.

Chan stared at the door to the bar, he didn't want to be here and neither did the rest of his close men but it was one of the bars that other rival gangs were threatening to take and he wanted to make sure it was useless before he decided to leave it for them to just take. Chan had never cared for ars in his business but it was a way to smuggle money in without people getting too suspicious on where it was truly coming from.

"It's nothing but a small bar, no one cares about it," Changbin told Chan, Changbin was Chan's right-hand man he knew everything about everyone, everything about anything he was the know it all of the group. The researcher as Jisung and the rest of the boys called him.

"What about the people that work here?" Jeongin, the youngest of Chan's gang questioned he was so innocent about everything. He'd always been the innocent one of the group and it made Chan smile that he cared about the people that worked there.

"They're nothing, they'll find somewhere new," Minho said without any emotion in his voice. He was the assassin, didn't care about anything but that was how he dealt with his lifestyle of killing people how he dealt with the guilt of it all how he got on with it day by day without the guilt crushing him. 

"How kind of you," Felix muttered sarcastically walking up to the door and walking inside first, the whole place fell silent and people put their heads down the way it always was whenever they walked into a room. They loved it. Chan was next and a table was cleared in the back of the bar, he kept his eyes trained to the floor not caring about anyone in the bar he just wanted to get this over with so he could go home. 

"Hi sir, it's nice to finally have you here. I have my best waitress to serve you tonight, I'm sure you'll like her but if not I will offer up a new waitress. Y/N!" You didn't even scramble over to the table you just slowly walked over and introduced yourself, you bowed to him and smiled as you came back up. 

"I'm Y/n, I'll be your waitress for the evening." Jeongin's eyes were trained on your face, Jisung looked up from his phone for the first time all night and Hyunjin was staring at you whole you spoke their mouths hanging open a little shocked you were speaking to calmly and freely to Chan like this. 

"Can we get pints all around, make it quick," Chan said not looking away from his phone until the last second but as soon as he saw your face his mind went fuzzy. You hadn't noticed you just walked away from the table and went to make the drinks for him so your boss could relax instead of hovering around like a lost sheep.

"Look at you, running around for the boss man." You stared at the other barmaid who was on shift with you and frowned she was staring at you as she tied back her long blonde hair. The longer you stared at her the worst you felt about yourself, she was dressed in a tight pencil skirt and a white dress shirt, exposing her chest since it got her more drinks sold in the bar. The girl could have been a supermodel if she wanted but instead, she stuck around here, you knew why though. The more she stayed here the more chance she had of finding someone that worked in a Mafia gang...More money for Mrs Perfect. 

"What are you talking about? I'm doing my job?" You poured the beers into the pint glasses, but she was looking you up and down and scoffing. 

"He's going to eat you up and spit you out." Your brows furrowed and she knew you were confused which meant you hadn't heard anything about him, nothing real anyway. 

"Chan...There's something you should know about him." She looked over at Chan who was still staring over in your direction.

"He killed his wife, murdered her in cold blood because she stood between him and something he wanted. Then there was his family and her family, he killed them all and paid off the police." The hairs stood up on the back of your neck as you thought about his wife and all of those people being killed for nothing. 

"No one else knows about it because he kills anyone that talks about it." She wiped down the bar with a cloth before smirking at you you couldn't tell if she was just doing this to mess with you or if she was serious about this, 

"Have fun, you're on your own. BABY!" She was making a scene to grab attention from people in the bar and it worked. Men stared at her as she threw herself at her fourth boyfriend of the week which made you laugh as she flung herself around him and walked out of the bar with him. 

"Your drinks," You mumbled putting their pints down in front of each of the men at Chan's table, you avoided eye contact like your boss had told you right before you walked over. There were rules for doing this, no eye contact with any of them, only speak when spoken to, don't talk back to them and don't give them any personal information to them.

"Thank you, y/n was it?" Hyunjin asked in a flirty tone, you nodded but said nothing just like Sid had told you to. 

"I'll come back when you're empty. Shout if you need anything," Hyunjin licked his lips he was the player of the group which was why he was so interested in you, he bit his lip while he watched you walk away from their table. 

"She'd make a good-" They all had girls that they would have sexual relationships with it was no secret but Chan already knew where his mind was going.

"Don't even think about it," Chan spoke, his eyes had been trained on your face the entire time you'd been at their table. You looked exactly like her, his wife. It was as if someone had made a carbon copy of her and placed you in the world for a moment when he'd seen you he thought it was her, that she was there alive once again. 

"Sid!" Chan called out and the owner of the bar rushed over to him, willing to give him whatever it was that he wanted without a question.

"What's her name and story?" Chan nodded his head over at you while you cleaned up other tables completely oblivious to everything going on around you. 

"Y/n, she's been working here for about four years. Came home from a college and needed a place to stay, she's one of those fancy stuck up rich kids that thought they could make it alone and failed." So much for don't give out any personal details about yourself, Changbin took note of everything he was saying knowing that Chan was going to ask him to run his own background check on you. He knew his best friend like the back of his own hand. 

"Rich kids?" Chan sounded surprised as he questioned Sid on that, he knew from one look at you that you weren't rich. Your hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, you wore no makeup and you walked around as if you didn't care what anybody thought. You weren't in the same clothes as the other girls in the bar either, while they all wore expensive branded high heels you wore a fake pair of trainers. Anyone else in this area took pride in their appearance, made themselves stand out from the rest and not try to fade into the background which is what you were clearly trying to do. 

"Her parents are lawyers, grandparents are doctors all that sort of thing. Shes's training to be a doctor herself, very smart." Chan scoffed as he watched you trip over your own feet, training to be a doctor but you were clumsy you'd probably stab someone with a needle. You'd already made three mistakes that Chan had been able to count so you weren't who you said you were. 

"Background check, check her name first. I want to know who she is and who she's working for." Changbin didn't even blink or bother telling Chan that he was already on it he just obeyed read through everything he could find on you, going through the police records along with colleges nearby. Running your name, age, and trying to find anything he could find in your personal life, your real one. 

The tray you were carrying had full drinks on top of it, while you waited for Chan and his boys to finish theirs you decided to wait on other tables, it was no big deal and it would pass some time while you were working, 

"Watch it!" You yelled as a drunken man pushed into you as he was leaving the bar, the tray you were carrying slipped out of your hands and onto Chan's table, spilling out onto his suit and the rest of the boys. Oh Shit. You stared down at the mess and your eyes went up to Chan, his face was turning red and the men around him look terrified for you at what had just happened each of them rising to their feet to stop themselves from getting covered in beers.

 "I'm so sorry! Chan! She's just a little clumsy, she'll clean all of this up and you can send your dry cleaning bill here." Your boss was trying to come up with anything to make Chan calm down but it wasn't working, he was starting to breathe heavily the angrier he got at the thought of his expensive suit being ruined.  

"It's fine." Seungmin froze from beside Chan as he heard him say that, you frowned as you heard the Australian accent fall from his mouth. No one had told you he was Australian and it was kind of hot to hear him speak with an accent. 

"It's just a suit...I'll have it cleaned I know someone." You thanked him for excusing you and you told him you would get them all a drink on the house next time they came back. 

"We're not planning on coming back," Chan said as he got out from the table throwing down some money to pay for the drinks they'd started with, he was standing in front of you and staring down at you into your eyes. A classic move to make someone feel powerless and beneath them, everyone in this area of the town did it and for some reason it made you challenge him to see what he would do in front of all of these people around you. 

"That's a shame, my boss went through a lot to make this place nice for you. It's a shame you're just going to give it all up." Chan smirked licking his teeth as you spoke back to him like that. He liked that you stood up to him, no one ever excited him like this anymore it was going to be a fun game with you. 

"Be careful Princess, you don't know who you're talking to." He whispered to you as he cocked his eyebrow up, you stared at him without blinking you shook your head. 

"No, I do know. I just don't care." He watched you walk away back over to your bar and listened to your boss continuously apologise for the way you were acting towards him, having no idea what had gotten into you and why you were acting this way.

"Seungmin. Do you have anything on you?" Seungmin nodded, he always carried everything they sold along with some other drugs they could ever need in the car. 

"Good. Felix get the car and make sure you have the cuffs, she looks like she might put up a fight." The boys didn't even defy what Chan was thinking they did as they were told and did so without question if they wanted to keep working for him and get paid. 

"Yes Sir," The boys all flooded out of the bar and Changbin got ready to drive Chan home they always travelled in different cars to make sure they weren't being followed. 

"I'll change and come back. We know she doesn't finish until later, but I want this placed watched. Got it?!" He was yelling, taking the anger out he had with you on them. Jisung hung back to keep an eye on you, Jisung was the secret weapon of the group. He came across as soft and innocent much like Jeongin but on the inside, Jisung was the second killer of the group while Jeongin was the bait. Jisung would lure people into a false sense of security, gain their trust so that he could get them for Chan. It was his job. They all had a role to play and they all played it well. 

3:55 am and you were locking up. Everyone who had been in the bar had long left now and you were cashing up the till putting the tips into the safe in the office before leaving through the back door, it led out into a creepy alleyway that made you anxious. There were no buses or taxi's to take you home so you knew you were going to have to rely on walking home to the bad side of town and pray that there was nothing going to happen. You'd done it a million times before but something felt wrong about tonight, something you couldn't put your finger on so you pulled your jacket around you tightly ready to leave as soon as you could.

"Hey! Y/n right?" You turned to see one of the men that had been with Chan that night and you nodded tucking your hair behind your ear. 

"Yes, can I help you?" He smiled at you and his smile seemed to make you relax when you saw it, he seemed like the nicest one out of all of the boys that had been at the table that night. 

"No, I was just walking around. I'm Jisung by the way, we never introduced ourselves." He shook your hand and you smiled until you realised what time it was and wondered what he was doing at 4 in the morning outside of a bar they no longer wanted, 

"Just walking around at 4 in the morning?" He hissed as you caught on quickly Chan said he thought you'd be smart about this, Felix was waiting around the corner with the car and Seungmin waiting with him. 

"A nice stroll, do you need a ride?" You shook your head not knowing if you should trust him or not. Your gut was torn now so you continued walking out of the alleyway to get into the street. Even if it was early there would still be people around to witness if anything happened to you...Not that anyone would speak since Jisung worked for Chan. A car stopped in front of you and two other people that had been with Chan sat there waving at you, 

"Get in the car Y/n." When you turned to look at Jisung he was holding a gun in his hand but once your back was turned away from the car Seungmin took out a cloth covered in chloroform and it was placed over your mouth. Your legs began to kick and you tried to scream but the tight grasp around your mouth tightened some more and dragged you back against the car. 

"Don't fight it, just go to sleep," Seungmin whispered in your ear trying to soothe you if that was even at all possible in this kind of situation, you continued to kick until Jisung grabbed your legs roughly and you were put into the backseat of the car, arms being bound with handcuffs and your legs being tied up with some rope. Your mind was trying to fight your system into going to sleep but your legs went numb the chloroform was acting far too quickly for your liking, your arms were heavy and your eyelids were starting to weigh down. 

"Go to sleep, it'll make this all easier if you just obey...Trust us." You looked at Jisung with pleading eyes tearing up as he repeated that you should just sleep and then to Felix who was staring at you from the front seat, he felt bad for this from the moment Chan mentioned taking you. It was a direct order from Chan though and he couldn't disobey the man who'd taken him in.

"Trust us, don't fight it. Relax." Your eyes locked with Felix's and he sent you a sad smile, he started up the engine of the car once he saw your legs stop moving and your eyes start to flutter shut. His sad smile was the last thing you saw right before you drifted off to sleep in Seungmin's arms with Jisung and Felix exchanging looks from the seats.

Tagline: 

@moonprincessdiviniation​ @taestannie​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @snowy-meowl​

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 14: Nothing Personal

Summary: Steve confronts Fury about the Lemurian Star mission and the Director reveals just exactly what it is he’s been working on. However, when Fury is later gunned down in Steve’s apartment right in front of the Captain and Katie, the two are forced to run from the very people they’ve called colleagues and friends for years.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Violence.

A/N: I love this edit from @angrybirdcr​

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 13

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“You just can’t stop yourself from lying, can you?” Steve seethed as he crossed the floor of Fury’s office.

Nick didn’t even need to ask him what he was talking about. Without turning round the Director spoke calmly. “I didn’t lie. Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours.”

“Which you didn’t feel obliged to share” Steve pressed, raising an eyebrow as the Director spun in his chair to face him.

“I’m not obliged to do anything” Fury replied simply, looking at him.

“Those hostages could’ve died, Nick.” Steve pressed, holding the man’s gaze.

“I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn’t happen.” Fury stated, and Steve could feel his temper rising even more. He hated the blasé attitude the Director was discussing the issue with, like it was simply something he wasn’t all that bothered about.

“Soldiers trust each other, that’s what makes it an army.” He said after a short pause. “Not a bunch of guys running around and shooting guns.”

He wasn’t expecting the response he got. Fury leaned forward, frowning as he levelled Steve with a look.

“The last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye.” Fury spoke, his tone steely. Steve cocked his head to one side, crossing his arms but maintaining his silence. “Look, I didn’t want you doing anything you weren’t comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything.”

“I can’t lead a mission when the people I’m leading have missions of their own.” Steve pointed down at Fury’s desk, stressing his point.

“It’s called compartmentalization” Fury eyed him. “Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all.” Steve snorted silently and gestured at Fury. “Except you.” Fury took a deep breath and levelled Steve with a look. “You’re wrong about me. I do share. I’m nice like that.” Steve frowned as Fury stood up and motioned for him to follow.

“Where are we going?” Steve’s frustration was evident on his tone.

“You’ll see.” Fury stepped inside the elevator. Steve followed. “Insight bay.”

A photo of Nick’s SHIELD ID flashed up on the screen, surrounded by a green light. Then Steve noticed his, but the light was red as the SHIELD computer spoke. “Captain Rogers does not have clearance for Project Insight.”

“Director override, Fury, Nicholas J.” Fury spoke, without missing a beat.

“Confirmed.”

The elevator started to moved downwards. Steve leaned against the rail which ran round the middle of the glass box and clasped his hands in front of him by his belt. Despite his initial annoyance, he had found himself beginning to understand what the Director was saying. SHIELD had so many secrets, many a matter of national security. It made no sense for everyone to know everything, it was a security risk, he got that. But it still irked him.

“You know, they used to play music.” Steve said, his tone softer as he broke the silence, making a joke at his own expense.

“Yeah. My grandfather operated one of these things for forty years.” Fury mused, somewhat nostalgic. “My granddad worked in a nice building, he got good tips. He’d walk home every night, roll of ones stuffed in his lunch bag. He’d say ‘hi’, people would say hi back. Time went on, neighbourhood got rougher. He’d say ‘hi’ they’d say, ‘Keep on steppin’. Granddad got to grippin’ that lunch bag a little tighter.”

The flash into Fury’s personal life surprised Steve somewhat. He cocked his head to one side and looked at the man. “Did he ever get mugged?”

“Every week some punk would say, “What’s in the bag?”

“What did he do?”

“He’d show ‘em. Bunch of crumpled ones and loaded point twenty-two Magnum.” Fury smirked “Granddad loved people. But he didn’t trust them very much.”

Steve had to smirk slightly, thinking that Fury sounded a hell of a lot like his grandpa. He looked down for a second, and when he looked up he was aware that they had now travelled down the side of the Triskellion and were descending further, underground even. As Steve looked around he realised he was in some sort of below building hangar, and he looked out of the glass, spotting three giant Helicarriers. His mouth fell open in surprise, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah, I know. They’re a little bit bigger than a point twenty-two.” Fury remarked.

Eventually the elevator stopped and Fury stepped out, Steve hot on his tail as he watched people bustling around the hangar shouting, carrying things, fixing things. The helicarriers were bigger than the one they’d used during the Chitauri invasion, each being able to house at least twenty Quinjets.

“This is Project Insight.” Fury explained as he led Steve across the floor of the hangar. “Three next generation Helicarriers synced to a network of targeting satellites.”

And then Steve understood. “Launched from the Lemurian Star.”

“Once we get them in the air they never need to come down. Continuous suborbital flight courtesy of our new repulsor engines.” Fury stopped underneath one.

“Stark?” Steve asked, frowning.

“Well, he had a few suggestions once he got an up close look at our old turbines.” Fury nodded, as they continued. “But don’t worry, that’s not something Nova is keeping from you.”

“I wasn’t” Steve said honestly, as he looked up and around the hangar. “I trust my girl.”

Fury looked at him before he turned his attention back to the matter in hand and pointed up again “These new long range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles a minute. The satellites can read a terrorist’s DNA before he steps outside his spidy hole. We gonna neutralize a lot of threats before they even happen.”

Steve crossed his arms. “I thought the punishment usually came after the crime.”

“We can’t afford to wait that long.”

Steve could feel the nerve twitching in his jaw. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis. For once we’re way ahead of the curve”

“By holding a gun at everyone on Earth and calling it protection?” Steve looked at the director, frowning. He didn’t like this. It smacked of something HYDRA would do.

Fury picked up on his tone and he looked at Steve, arching an eyebrow. “You know, I read those SSR files. Greatest generation? You guys did some nasty stuff.”

Don’t I know it? Steve thought to himself as he took a deep breath. “Yeah, we compromised. Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well. But we did it so the people could be free.” He turned and pointed at the helicarriers before looking at Fury “This isn’t freedom, this is fear.”

“SHIELD takes the world as it is, not as we’d like it to be.” Fury stated simply. “It’s getting damn near past time for you to get with that program, Cap”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t hold your breath.” And with that he left.

He changed quickly, eager to put as much distance between him and SHIELD as possible for the rest of the day. After a short conversation with Rumlow about a mission report, he was on his bike and heading for Katie’s apartment, his mind whirling. What was Fury playing at? This wasn’t what he signed up for, at all. It felt so far removed from what he had joined the army to do, to keep people safe, free. Had he really changed that much? He felt a sudden pang for his Howling Commandoes, for Bucky, for Peggy, for Colonel Philips, for all those damned missions which had been simple- destroy HYDRA before they destroyed you.

Despite the fact he had woken up that morning and felt so happy with his girl being there, he couldn’t help but wish life was as simple as it had been back then.

*****

Katie’s morning had been far more productive. She had looked at a couple of transcript extracts her editor had selected. She had to admit, the guy had a good eye for a future blockbuster, and this one she particularly liked. After discussions, they settled on an initial run of two hundred hard copy of the books to be sold online, along with a downloadable kindle version, and if they went they would review how many more we needed.

Pleased with her mornings work and having cleared her diary for the afternoon, she had lunch in the kitchen and had just finished when she heard the elevator door open. She headed into the main area of her apartment to greet Steve, taking a deep breath as she noticed how drained he looked.

“Dare I ask how it went?”

His response was a sigh as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug, simply wanting to feel her close.

“That good huh?” She squeezed him back gently before she pulled away and headed towards the kitchen, him following behind her.

“Debrief was fine. Fury, however, went on about compartmentalisation, the usual crap.” Steve sighed, running his hand over his face, smiling softly to himself when he saw she was gathering stuff out of the fridge to make him a sandwich “And then shared something I really wish he hadn’t.”

“Like what?” she asked, throwing some turkey and mayo onto a sub. “Ever heard of Operation Insight?” Steve looked at her, even though he knew the answer. There’s no way she would have and not told him.

���No?” She handed him the plate containing his sandwich.

“Well apparently your brother has. Thanks.” He took the plate from her sat at the breakfast bar taking a bite of his food. He swallowed and then continued “Three huge hellicarriers that are basically designed to go up in the air and never come down based on Tony’s arc reactor tech. Programmed to monitor potential threats and wipe them out before they get chance to do anything.” She frowned, settling on the stool next to him. “And Fury has sanctioned this?”

Steve nodded, taking another bite of his food. “I don’t like it. Like I said to him, punishment normally comes after the crime.”

Katie could see he was really struggling with this and that his faith in SHIELD was running very, very thin. A lot of what the Agency did was political, not just about keeping people safe. She’d tried to explain that the lines were a lot more blurred than back in the 40s, but still had to admit she was kind of with him. As she pondered for a moment, Steve could see the cogs whirring in her brain, the slight v shape crease that always formed in the middle of her eyes when she was thinking was present. Steve didn’t blame her, it had thrown him too and he’d had the full explanation. The hangar had been huge, and there were enough people in there to make him realise that a LOT of people knew about it. What he didn’t know was who on his immediate team knew about it.

“I just wanna know who I can trust” He sighed, looking at Katie as she reached out gently, touching his cheek.

“I know, Soldier.” she said, softly before she shook her head. “Okay, no more talk about SHIELD or hellicarriers, or whatever.” She moved to pick up her soda. “What do you want to for the rest of the afternoon?”

Steve wanted to go to the Smithsonian. He’d been thinking about it since they had emailed him to invite him to open the exhibit on him, which he had politely declined. But he was curious to see what it was like, curious and also eager, after today, to be reminded of a time when he worked with people he knew inside out, people that he would trust with his life. And he was keen to share that with his girl, the woman who had months ago before they even started dating, been the one to help him pick what the museum would display.

“You know, we’ve still not been to the Smithsonian since they opened the exhibit.” He shruged, hoping his tone was casual enough to make it sound like he hadn’t been thinking about it enough. He failed though, smiling as Katie looked at him, arching an eyebrow.

Busted.

“Call it curiosity.” He shrugged.

“You know what curiosity did don’t you?” Katie quipped back, her eyes flashing playfully.

“What?”

She grinned as she delivered the punchline “Killed the Cap.”

*****

“A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honour, bravery and sacrifice,” the narrator at the Smithsonian museum said as we entered the exhibit.

Steve paused to pull the collar of his blue jacket up a little further, a gesture that, along with the cap that was pulled down over his face, he hoped would prevent him from being recognised as they made their way to the start of the pieces.

"Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world’s first super soldier,” the Narrator continued. Steve paused to look at the display to his right when Katie gently nudged him.

“Think you’ve been rumbled.”

Steve looked down at her, and then followed her gaze as she looked to her left at a small boy dressed in a light blue T-shirt adorned with the design of his shield who was watching the pair of them, his eyes growing wide. Steve smiled, put a finger against his mouth to indicate for him to keep quiet. The boy nodded and then turned, running back off to find his mum.

Without speaking Steve took her hand and led her over to the part of the exhibit that had an older looking motorcycle on a platform and some black and white footage playing beside it. The footage was of him in his older Captain America uniform, also currently on display, running through a battlefield.

“In this rare footage, everyone’s favourite war hero, Captain America…”

He didn’t stop to hear the rest, he could remember that mission by heart. It had been on the outskirts of Toulouse, liberating another HYDRA prison camp. Katie allowed herself to be led by him, this was his moment after all. They slowly walked to a display of mannequins dressed in his original suit, plus those of the Howling Commandos, which had been donated by their families. His eyes lingered on Bucky’s for a second and he took a deep breath.

“Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission, taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division,”

Katie looked at the uniforms, a smile on her face. She had only seen photos of Steve’s war suit, never seen it in person and it intrigued her. More so because this was something that her dad had made, something physical he had touched. She felt a tug on her hand again, and she looked up to see that she was being led to a section dedicated to Bucky. The familiar (albeit again, only from photos), handsome face of his best friend looked back at them as they wandered over to read what it said in more detail.

“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both school yard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country…”

The narration didn’t cover half the text on the black, glass screen and in Katie’s opinion it wasn’t a particularly good tribute to a man who had lost his life in such tragic circumstances. She read the rest of the text as Steve’s eyes skated over it, reading, despite the fact he knew it all. He wished he could have saved him, he really did. He’d loved him to have been able to meet Katie. But then, he wouldn’t have anyway. As he would have most likely been dead now. Or what’s to say things may or may not have ended up differently. Would Buck have been on the Valkyrie with him?

He watched the black and white footage playing, where the two of them were talking and then laughing about something and he felt the sadness hit his chest again. And as if she sensed it too, Katie gripped his hand a little bit tighter and lay her head against his arm, her weight giving him something to anchor himself too, and he was grateful for it.

They carried on walking and then they found there was a small cinema area a bit further round the corner playing footage and interviews. Steve paused for a second and then looked at Katie, the question stayed silent. She nodded and together they walked in, taking a seat on one of the benches. There was a bit of introduction footage, and then a familiar face appeared on the screen.

Besides him Katie took a deep breath and whispered a single word “Dad…” and he automatically dropped a hand to her knee, where she placed hers on top of his as the two of them watched her father an animatedly talking to the camera.

“Rogers was different” Howard spoke, smiling, the caption on the screen telling him the footage had been filmed in 1953. “He was constantly striving to do the right thing, with no fear or care for how it would affect him. He, err, when we dropped him behind enemy lines we had no idea if we would see him again. I narrowly escaped myself, the machine guns nearly took our aircraft down but without thought to how he would get back, he told us to leave him behind. When they declared him missing in action the entire company was devastated but, lo and behold… well they can’t keep a good man down.”  Howard paused and then looked down and back up at the camera “I can only hope that if I’m graced with Children, they grow up to be half as driven as he was to do the right thing…”

As Katie looked down at her feet, a stray tear fell down her cheek. Seeing her dad there like that was raw. She knew that Tony felt the loss of their parents far more than she did, she had only been seven after all when they had died and Tony had been her father, if you will, for far longer than her actual dad had. But still, seeing him in front of her so candidly, talking about his hopes for his future children, made something in her chest tighten and she couldn’t help but feel sadness at the fact she never got the chance to really know him. Steve gently squeezed her knee, but then as they looked back up at the screen it was his turn to still as someone he recognised extremely well, her face painted into his memory for life, entered the screen and began speaking, also in 1953. 

"That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve, Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a HYDRA blockade that had pinned our allies down for months.” Peggy Carter stumbled slightly through the interview. “He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would become my husband as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life,” And despite the fact that she smiles slightly at the end of this line, it’s clear to see that talking about Steve affected her a lot.

Katie leaned against him and with a breath he lay his head on top of hers. “We haven’t seen her for a while…” she whispered as the video finished. “Shall we go on the way home?” He gave a soft chuckle and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head.

“You read my mind.”

*******

Peggy was pleased to see them, as always when she was having a good day. They both greeted her and after a few pleasantries they told her about their trip to the Smithsonian. Peggy smiled, informing them that she remembered the interview, like it was yesterday, apparently the man interviewing her had been an “utter rogue”, but she didn’t elaborate on what that meant further than saying he was worse than Barnes, which made Steve laugh.  They chatted a little about her time as Director at SHIELD before she trailed off with a sigh as she noticed that Steve was uncharacteristically quiet. After a little gentle coaxing from her and Katie he told her what was on his mind.

“My whole life I’ve just wanted to do what was right, I guess I’m not sure what that is anymore.” He paused for a moment, thinking of how to voice his worries about SHIELD “And I thought I could just throw myself back in and follow orders, it’s just not the same.”

Peggy chuckled as she rolled her eyes and looked at Katie. “He’s always so dramatic.”

Katie let out a small laugh, nodding her agreement. “Tell me about it!”

Steve shook his head, a smile on his face as he raised his eyebrows slightly and looked away as Peggy continued to speak.

“Look you saved the world, we rather mucked it up.”

“No you didn’t. You know, knowing that you helped found SHIELD is half the reason I stay.”

“And the other half being?” Her eyes strayed to Katie who smiled, looking down and then up at Steve as he caught her eye, his hand resting on her knee.

“I quit remember?” Katie reminded her.

Peggy smiled “Indeed, a woman with principles. That I can get on board with. ”Katie gave a little smile as Peggy continued. “Look, the world has changed and none of us can go back.” She spoke softly. “All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over.“

At that she started to cough. Steve quickly picked up a glass of water from the table and rounded the back of the chair Katie was sitting in to try and hand her the glass. 

"Peg?” He held the glass out as her coughing subsided and she took a sip. Once she had finished she looked up and stared at Steve as if she was seeing a ghost

“Steve?” Peggy breathed out in an amazed yet broken voice.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, his heart sinking as he recognised the look in her face. Her memory had gone, again.

“You’re alive! You, you came, you came back,” Peggy whimpered. Tears were gathering in her eyes at this point as she tried to hold them back and Steve was struggling to do the same with his own. One of the smartest, nicest, bravest women he had ever met was being betrayed by an illness that was literally rotting her brain. It was cruel, and every time she did this, they went through the same routine.

“Yeah, Peggy.” Steve responded forcing a smile onto his face as Katie squeezed his hand gently, standing up so he could take the chair next to Peggy.

“It’s been so long. So long,” Peggy started to cry, giving up on holding back her tears.

“I’ll leave you with her.” Katie spoke softly as she gently touched Steve’s shoulder. His hand briefly reached up to lay over hers before he leaned over to take Peggy’s.

“Well, I couldn’t leave you.” He forced himself to smile. “Not when you still owe me a dance.”

Normally that calmed the old lady down, but not today. She was becoming more and more confused and in the end he had to press the call button.

“Again?” The nurse who attended asked softly, and Steve simply nodded.

“I’ll fetch the doctor.”

Outside Katie took a deep breath and headed towards her car. Ex partners could always be an issue in relationships but this was something else, something completely different. She opened the passenger side to the car and sat side on in the seat, door open, legs dangling out. She felt sorry for Peggy, she really did, and her heart ached for Steve. It can’t be easy seeing the woman he once loved, and probably still did in some way, fading like that in front of your eyes.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing at her eyes slightly and waited as she watched various people coming and going out of the main doors of the hospital. It wasn’t that long before a familiar figure appeared, a flash of white T-shirt standing out against his dark navy jacket and equally dark jeans as he walked towards her, hands in his pockets. She stood up, not saying a word as she wrapped her arms around him and he buried his face into the nook of her shoulder and neck, his safe place, his hands gently resting on her hips as he breathed out a sigh.

“Is she okay?” she asked gently. “Yeah they sedated her.” He said as he pulled away.

“I’m so sorry Steve.”

“What for?” “Peggy…it’s so unfair.” “Yeah…” He replied simply. And it was. He wished things could be different, that Peggy wasn’t ill. That she could be home, with her family, living out the last years of her life with the dignity she had lived the rest of it. She deserved more. He looked over the car roof across the street and watched for a second, everyone milling about their business, getting on with their lives. Like he was, and whilst he wished things had been different for Peggy, he suddenly found himself thinking and wondering if he would change anything if he could.

He felt Katie still in front of him, reacting to the fact he himself had changed posture, and as he looked down at her he was suddenly struck with the answer to his question. Despite everything, despite his sudden feelings of nostalgia sparked by the events of the last twenty hours or so, no he wouldn’t. Because whatever had happened, every action, every decision, it had led him to the girl now in his arms, and he loved her so fucking much it hurt. Yeah he had loved Peggy, he still did in some ways, but it was nothing compared to this. Nothing.

He reached out and took Katie’s hands, pulling up her arms so they were round his neck, pulling her closer to him as his own hands joined at the bottom of her back

“I love you.” He said gently, needing her to understand, to believe him. “My best girl.”

“I hope I’m your only girl, Rogers.”  She sassed back with a sniff, and he smiled softly, happy that she understood.

“How about we head back to mine and not leave the flat for the entire day tomorrow?” Steve looked down at her, the idea suddenly coming to him and her face lit up. Katie loved lazy days. It was rare Steve was in the mood for them, his incessant energy normally meant he had to be doing something. But on the odd time he agreed, it usually involved them staying in bed till about midday, then watching old movies on the TV under a blanket on the couch, maybe a bit of fooling around and then calling a take out before retreating back to bed. Right now that sounded like a damned fine idea. “Can you clear your diary?”

“Consider it cleared.”

“I just wanna make one quick stop on the way home” He suggested, his journey of contemplation was leading him to one more place. He glanced at his watch before planting a kiss on her lips as she looked at him questioningly. “Thought we could pay our jogging friend a visit.”

********

“Look who it is. The running man and his pretty girl.” Sam joked slightly as he came over to the doorway where Katie and Steve were stood.

“Hey.” Katie smiled as he dropped a kiss onto her cheek.

“Caught the last few minutes. It’s pretty intense,” Steve commented as Sam shook his hand.

“Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret,” Sam shrugged.  As his sentence went on his voice got more serious and softer.

“Have you lost someone?” Steve asked, perceptive as ever. Katie mentally cursed herself for not filling him in fully, but Sam didn’t seem too bothered to talk about it. He nodded gently.

“My wingman, Riley. Fly in the night mission. A standard PJ rescue op, nothing we hadn’t done a thousand times before, till an RPG knock Riley’s dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It’s like I was up there just to watch,” Sam paused to cross his arms over his chest, his posture slightly tense. “After that, I had really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know?”

“But you’re happy now, back in the world?” Steve asked

“Hey, the number of people giving me orders is down to about zero. So, hell, yeah,” Sam joked, loosening up slightly, before getting a bit serious, “You thinking about getting out?”

“No.” Steve replied quickly before he took a breath. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.”

“Ultimate fighting?” Sam shrugged and Steve laughed as Katie snorted.  “It’s just a great idea off the top of my head. But seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?”

Steve turned his head to look at Katie, an unconscious movement, smiling gently as he shrugged. “I dunno…”

“Oh I think you do.” Sam said, smirking slightly as Steve placed his hand on the small of his girl’s back.

“Oh, stop by the front desk on your way out,” Katie turned to Sam, smirking, and he raised an eyebrow in question,

“We asked for you by name.” Steve clarified.

“She seemed thoroughly impressed.” Katie finished. Both of Sam’s eyebrows rose at that and he looked down the hallway towards where the front desk was.

“You two are the best.” A smile stretching across his face as he began to turn to head down the hall. “Stop by anytime.”

“No problem.” Steve grinned in amusement as Sam jogged his way down the hall.

It was gone eight by the time they got home, having made a pit stop for a beer on the way. Steve held the door open for Katie, and she stepped into the apartment building and started to climb the stairs in front of him, giving him a quite pleasing view of her ass as her hips swayed side to side in front of him.

“Sam’s right you know.” She continued their discussion from the bar. “And so is Peggy.”

“What about?”

“If you wanted to get out you could do, start over.”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want, but spending the rest of my life playing janitor for Fury is not it.”

“I can write you a resignation note.” She grinned and Steve chuckled slightly and then took a deep breath.

“You know, it’s funny when I think about it. Us, stuff, what we’ve done and how far we’ve come in a year.”

“You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing.” She teased as she stepped onto his landing.

“No, that’s not what I mean at all.”  He took a deep breath as she headed towards his door and turned to face him “You know, I’ve never really talked to anyone or shown them about my past in detail or introduced anyone to Peggy bar you.”

“Well I am your girlfriend.” She shrugged, holding onto the hand that wasn’t digging into his jeans pocket to fish out his keys.  “Your best girl.” At that he smiled. “So you should be able to talk to me about anything.”

“I know, I’m not explaining myself very well.”  He remarked, finally succeeding in obtaining his keys. And he wasn’t. He was trying to tell her that he couldn’t imagine his life without her, that he wanted her to share his everything, including his home.

“Spit it out Rogers.” She teased as he slid the key into the lock.

He took a deep breath. “Coming home last night and you being there…and then this morning…it was perfect, Doll, and I want that all the time.” He turned to face her leaving his key hanging from the door. “How would you feel about us maybe moving in together?”

She paused for a moment, looking at him, realising he was deadly serious. She raised her eyebrow.

“I thought you came from a time where man and woman didn’t live together until they were married?”

“We could get married if you want.” He blurted out. That made Katie raise both eyebrows as she studied him again, her mouth dropping into a small ‘o’. Steve looked back at her, trying to keep his face passive, as if it had been a joke, even though he knew it wasn’t. He’d known for months she was the one.

But to blurt it out like that? Outside his apartment door, in such a dumbass way?

Way to go, Rogers.

Katie cocked her head to one side, there was a funny look on Steve’s face that she couldn’t place. But whatever it was, even if Steve was serious about them getting married, she knew him well enough to understand that was not how he would want to propose, and that he was probably kicking himself about stumbling it out the way he had done. So she broke the nervous tension, as she always did, with a slight joke.

“You know, that’s not much of a proposal.” She slid her arms up around his neck. “But its one step up from you’d make a great housewife, I suppose.”

“Should I try again?” A cheeky grin spread across his face, glad the tone was playful, his arms circling her waist “Yeah, with a big, fuck off Tiffany diamond.”

“I didn’t think you were so materialistic?”

“Well, you know what they say? Diamonds are a girls’ best friend.”

“And there I was, thinking it was me.” He muttered, his lips pressing onto hers.

“That’s so sweet!” A voice interrupted and they both turned to look at Kate, his neighbour from over the hall. For a split second Steve thought she was talking to them but it soon became apparent she was on the phone. “That’s so nice…but hey, I gotta go…okay bye…”

She dropped the phone into the basket of laundry she was carrying before grinning at us both “My aunt, she’s kind of an insomniac”

Steve smile before looking at the basket of washing in her arms as he dropped his arm round Katie’s shoulder “you know if you want…if you want, you can use my machine. Might be easier and cheaper than the one in the basement.” “Thank you, but I already have a load in downstairs actually, and you really don’t want my scrubs in your machine.” She grinned. “I just finished a rotation on the infectious diseases ward, so,”

“Ah, well, we’ll keep our distance,” Steve grinned, holding his hands up, palms out.

“Hopefully not too far.” She chuckled. “Don’t want to lose my best neighbour. Okay, well I better be off.” She turned to go before she stopped and spun back round to look at Steve. “Oh, by the way, I think you left your stereo on.”

“Right, thank you.” Steve watched her go, frowning. He looked at Katie as they both pressed their ears to the door. The record player was certainly on but…

“We definitely didn’t leave that on before.”  Katie looked at him, as the gentle tones of Kitty Kallen Long Long Time hit their ears.

Steve held his finger up to his lips and gestured to the window, before leaving Katie where he was. He ran off, down the stairs as fast as he could and then he scaled the gate on the fire escape easily. Once he reached the steps which were parallel to his window he took a running jump, easily pulling himself up over the sill and into the kitchen area. Quickly and quietly he moved along the wall, picking up his shield which was leaning against the shelving unit. Holding it up, he cautiously peered round the corner of the room into the living area and instantly relaxed when he saw Fury lounging in a chair.

“I don’t remember giving you a key.” He said, somewhat sardonically.

“What, you really think I’d need one?” Nick replied. Steve shook his head and headed to the front door of the flat, pulling it open.

“Fury.” He said with a roll of his eyes, turning and walking back into the apartment.

“Huh?” Katie asked as she followed him into the living room, where the music was coming from, to see Fury sitting on the couch in the dark.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded.

"Nice to see you too, Nova. And in answer to your question my wife kicked me out.”

“I didn’t know you were married,” She continued, frowning. And she didn’t. And she wasn’t sure that he was.

“There are a lot of things you don’t about me,” Fury replied casually.

“I know, Nick. That’s the problem,” Steve grumbled walking forward as Katie remained where she was, eyes narrowed at her old boss. Steve flipped on the light switch, instantly recoiling in surprise when he noticed Fury’s injuries. Besides him Katie gasped slightly and moved to get closer to help but Fury indicated for her to stop and the both of them to stay quiet. He turned off the light again and typed something on his phone.

'EARS EVERYWHERE’.

Bugs? His apartment was bugged? By who? They both exchanged a glance and instantly Katie looked up and around the room, as if she expected to see a microphone glaring at them.

“I’m sorry to have to do this but I had nowhere else to crash,” Fury looked around a bit before he typed something else up on his phone:

'SHIELD COMPROMISED’.

Steve and Katie shared another glance, the pair of them wide eyed. This was bad.

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve asked, keeping his voice even.

Fury showed them another text;

'YOU TWO AND ME’.

“Just my friends,” Fury grunted in pain while getting up and walking closer to them.

“Is that what we are?” Katie blinked at him. She still hadn’t completely forgiven the man for lying to them all about Coulson. 

“That’s up to you.” Fury replied, his eyes darting from Katie to Steve.

Then out of nowhere came a rapid succession of gunshots. Steve quickly pushed Katie out of the way, the pair of them taking cover behind the kitchen wall as Fury groaned before he collapsed down to the floor. Steve scooted forward, keeping as low as he could, pulling him into the kitchen. Katie knelt next to him and tried to check his injuries through his black clothing when he reached up and handed something to Steve.

“Don’t, trust anyone,” he coughed before passing out.  Katie and Steve both looked at what he had been handed and saw that it was a flash drive. Steve curled his hand around it and looked at Katie, but before either of them could say anything else there was the sound of someone breaking into the apartment. Steve quickly moved into a defensive position, in front of Katie and Fury, raising his shield.

“Captain Rogers?” a familiar voice suddenly called out and they watched as Kate, his neighbour, cautiously walked in with a gun pointed. “I’m Agent Thirteen of SHIELD’s Special Service.”

“Kate?” Steve frowned, shaking his head. He’d just about had his fill of surprises.

“I’m assigned to protect you.” She continued

“On whose orders?” Katie snapped.

Kate stopped as she spotted Fury lying on the floor. “His,” she dropped besides Katie, checking Fury for a pulse and then spoke into her radio

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”

“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?” A SHIELD agent questioned through the radio.

Then there was a movement on the other side of the window, on the roof adjacent to the building.  Steve instantly glanced up and saw a flash of silver and the shadow of a figure running across the rooftop.

“Tell them I’m in pursuit.” He said and with that he took a running jump and smashed straight through his window, and through into the office building opposite. Steve ran, keeping his eye on the man, smashing through walls, windows, anything in his way. Eventually he caught up with him on the roof and flung his shield at the assassin who, to Steve’s shock, caught it with one swift move in the hand of his metal arm. There was a pause as Steve could do nothing but eye the man with surprise before the shield came flying back. Steve caught it, with both hands on its rim but the force pushed him back a few yards along the gravel surface of the roof. By the time he had stopped the momentum moving him, the assassin had jumped. Steve ran to the edge of the building and looked down.

He was gone.

*****

“What happened?” Hill asked as they all looked through the glass window at the hustle and bustle of the operating room. Steve moved his arm from around Katie and took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently.

"He was at my apartment when we got home.” Steve started. “I hadn’t even had chance to ask why when there were two blasts, then another. Someone shot him through the window- three times. I tried to go after the shooter, but I lost him on the roof of the building across the street.”

Steve had no doubt in his mind that if there was anyone else in SHIELD they could trust right now it was Hill, but both he and Katie kept quiet. He had taken Fury’s warning of trusting nobody seriously and had told Katie as much as they had strode through the ED of the hospital. Both were aware that Hill was studying them, side on, her face stony.

“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked quietly.

“Nothing.” Katie answered for them.

Before Hill could drill either of them anymore, the door to the observation room flung open and heavy footsteps crossed the room, stopping at the other side of Katie.

“Is he gonna make it?” Natasha asked, almost inaudibly, staring through the window.

“We don’t know,” Hill mumbled.

“Tell me about the shooter,” Natasha whispered

“He’s fast and strong. And he had a metal arm,” Steve said, letting go of Katie’s hand to fold his arms across his chest and as he did, they both caught the look of recognition and slight fear on Natasha’s face reflected in the window.

“Ballistics?” She swallowed heavily.

“Three slugs. No rifling and completely untraceable,” Maria answered softly.

“Soviet made?”

“Yeah,” Maria looked at Natasha in shock. Steve turned to face her, as did Katie, but she didn’t look back. She stared straight through to the operating theatre but before Katie could ask what it was that she wasn’t saying, the operation room went into overdrive. Machines started beeping erratically, the doctors and nurses were rushing around the room and the panic was palpable even behind the glass. But they couldn’t save him.

“Time of death, 1:03 A.M.”

A few moments passed as the four of them stood completely in shock. Katie reached up to wipe a tear that had trickled down her cheek away, before Natasha turned and almost sprinted out of the room.

Steve pulled his hand out of his pocket, turning the flash drive that Nick had given him over in his hand. Nick had been killed because he knew whatever it was that was on that drive. What could possibly be so bad, so secret, so dangerous that the Director of SHIELD was deemed a threat for knowing? He glanced up at Katie who was watching him, tears in her eyes. She might have had her issues with Fury, but he was a good man and would never have wished him dead. With a sigh Steve placed the item back into his pocket and pulled her in for a hug.

******

A little later, they were all in the same room as Nick’s body. Natasha was by him, hardly having moved a muscle, almost like she was in shock. And it unnerved Katie. Nat wasn’t one to really show emotion but then again, Fury had meant a lot to her. The door opened and a doctor entered, speaking to Hill. She nodded and then walked over to Katie and Steve, coughing to clear her throat.

“They need to take him.” She said, her voice cracking slightly. Steve nodded and stepped forwards.

“Nat. Natasha…” But at that she turned away from them all and made her way quickly into the corridor of the Hospital. Katie and Steve looked at one another, before they hastily followed her.

“Why was Fury in your apartment?” Natasha span around to ask Steve. Her eyes were filled with sadness, but Katie could also see suspicion etched on her pretty features.

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed shrugging his shoulders, and before the conversation could go on further they were interrupted by Rumlow.

“Cap, they want you back at Shield,” He informed them, gently touching Katie’s shoulder. “You too Nova.”

“Alright, give us a second,” Steve nodded dismissing Rumlow, perhaps a little more harshly than he intended, as he turned back to Natasha but Rumlow was insistent

“They want you now,”

“Alright” Katie spoke firmly but calmly. Rumlow nodded and then moved back down the hallway.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Natasha shook her head at Steve with her trademark smirk that didn’t reach her eyes before she turned and left.

“What the hell is on that drive?” Katie asked Steve after a moment of silence.

“I don’t know, but it’s what Natasha was saving data to on our mission the other day.” He replied before he looked up staring very focused into a vending machine to his right, which was open as a janitor filled it up. He didn’t want to take the drive back to the Triskellion, just in case. He knew that something wasn’t quite right.

Katie caught his eye before glancing around the hallway that was mostly full of SHIELD agents, luckily they were all congregated on the other end.

“Do it.” She nodded, figuring out his intention to hide the item “I’ll distract them.”

Without another look back at him, she began to stride forwards towards Rumlow.

“Its almost four am.” she glanced at her watch. “What do they want us for Brock? We already told Sitwell what we know and I don’t work for SHIELD anymore, remember?”

Rumlow shrugged “Honestly, I don’t know Nova. I’m just under instructions to get you both back to base.”

At that point Steve reached them, but he wasn’t stopping. Taking Katie’s hand he nodded to the STRIKE leader

“Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” Rumlow fell into step with them, fixing his earpiece. “Strike! Move it out.”

Steve drove to the Triskellion, Katie’s car flanked by the Armoured SUVs as they sped through the streets of DC. Katie dozed off for ten minutes and Steve let her sleep, lost in his own thoughts. He had expected her to be called in alongside him, especially after she had been, along with him, the last people Fury had spoken to him before he died. But he wasn’t happy about it, he wanted her as far away from whatever the hell was going on as possible. Once they arrived he gently shook her awake and the two of them were given an hour or so to grab something to eat. Neither were hungry, but they forced down their sandwiches, Katie’s brain working in overdrive as she did so. Something was nagging at her, and she was trying to make the connections, figure it out, but her head simply kept replaying Fury getting shot over and over.

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”

“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?”

She frowned.

“What is?” Steve asked, coffee in his hand as he sat back on one of the large chairs in one of the common rooms by the kitchen area.

“Before…when Kate…Agent thirteen, whatever the hell her name is called back to base…she said Fury was down and needed EMTs…”

She paused and Steve waited, knowing how her analytical brain worked. She had to follow threads, talk them over or write them out, letting them weave together as she did. A look of comprehension crossed her face as the threads connected.

“Sitwell…” She whispered.

“What about him?” Steve asked. “He was the one that replied, at least it sounded like him.” She bit her lip, but not in the seductive way that made his crotch twitch, the way she did when she was thinking “And he asked…do you have a twenty on the shooter.”

Steve frowned, not quite sure where this was going. “Okay…”  “Well, how did he know Fury had been shot? How could anyone know he had been shot?”

Now he understood. He understood completely. Damned it she was clever. “They couldn’t.” He sat up and leaned towards her, his voice dropping. “Not unless they were there or Kate…whoever, told them.”

“And she didn’t. She just said he was down and unresponsive.” “Which means…” Steve began, but Katie finished for him. “Sitwell knew about the hit. Because he was in on it.”

The both looked at one another, their faces wearing similar looks of shock. Fury was right, SHIELD was compromised. But how far, they had no idea.

Before Steve had chance to say anything else, the door opened and Rumlow stepped in

“Secretary Pierce is ready now guys.” “Thanks.” Katie nodded, shooting Steve another glance as they both stood up.

“Not a word.” He mumbled as they got into the elevator “We say nothing, not until we figure out who we can trust.”

“If we can trust anyone.” She mumbled back.

*****

“Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?” Secretary Pierce looked at Steve as he sat on the couch next to Katie in the large office.

“I don’t know.” He answered in a soft voice.

“Did you know it was bugged?” Pierce pressed on.

“We did.” Katie nodded meeting the secretary’s eye. “Because Nick told us.”

“Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?”

Steve took a breath and glanced at Katie, his expression stony but the two of them shared the understanding.

No, no he had not.

“I want you to see something.” Pierce continued, and gestured to a monitor just behind the couches we were sitting on. On the screen was a man tied down to a chair, he looked to be currently being interrogated. Katie didn’t recognise the man, but Steve did.  It was Batroc, the lead merc from the hijacking of the Lemurian Star.

“Is that live?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, they picked him up last night in a not so safe house in Algiers.”

“Are you saying he’s a suspect?” Steve didn’t take his eyes off the screen “Assassination isn’t Batroc’s line.”

“It’s more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to hijack the Lemurian Star. He was contacted by email and paid by wire transfer, and then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts. The last going to a holding company that was registered to a Jacob Veech.” Pierce said handing Steve a folder.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Steve skimmed through the file offered to him in curiosity and confusion.

“Not likely. Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 1437.”

“Wait,” Katie frowned as she gathered what Pierce was suggesting. “Are you saying Fury hired the pirates? Why?”

“The prevailing theory?” Pierce shrugged. “The hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick’s death.”

“If you really knew Nick Fury you’d know that’s not true.” Steve replied strongly, and he believed it. Fury was a lot of things, but a traitor he was not.

Pierce nodded in agreement. “Why do you think we’re here talking?” He then got to his feet and began to walk towards the window. “See, I took a seat on the council not because I wanted to, but because Nick asked me to because we were both realists. We knew that despite all the diplomacy, and the hand shaking and the rhetoric, to build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down. And that makes enemies.”

Steve didn’t like the way this was going. He looked at Katie and gestured for her to stand as he did. Pierce turned back around and looked at them both.

“Those people that call you dirty because you’ve got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today,” Pierce shoved his hands in his pockets. “Makes me really, really angry. Captain, you and Miss Stark were the last ones to see Nick Fury alive. I don’t think that’s an accident.” Pierce said matter-of-factly. “And I don’t think you do, either. So, I’m going to ask again was he there?”

“He told us not to trust anyone.” Steve said honestly.

Pierce made a humming sound. “I wonder, if that included him.”

There was a tense moment of silence before Steve spoke again. “I’m sorry. Those were his last words. Excuse us,” He turned to leave, picking up his shield that he sent down upon our arrival and attaching it to the harness on his back, before ushering Katie out of the room slightly ahead of him.

“Captain,” Pierce’s voice halted him mid step and he turned to look at him. “Someone murdered my friend. I’m going to find out why. Anyone who gets in my way is going to regret it.” Pierce’s voice rang out again, a pointed look in their direction.

Steve wasn’t a stupid man, and he knew that was a veiled threat. He took a deep breath, considering his response, before he decided appearing un-rattled was the best option.

“Understood.” He nodded, holding the door open for Katie to step through keeping himself between her and Pierce as he followed, anchoring his hand on her back to keep her moving.

“You should have lied.” She whispered.

“Huh?” “Back then, said we didn’t know why Fury was there. By telling him that he told us not to trust anyone he knows we know and that we’re hiding something.” Her tone was a little panicked and Steve simply took a deep breath.

“We need to get to the hospital and get that stick.” He looked at her, remaining  adamant that whatever it was that was on there would hold the answers. He looked up and down the corridor before they stepped into the elevator.

“Operations Control” Steve spoke as the elevator scanned his face and Katie’s Guest ID.

“Confirmed”

Just as the doors were about to close, Rumlow stepped in with two other STRIKE agents.

“Keep all STRIKE personnel on site” He was saying.  Both the agents nodded and voiced their acknowledgement of his order. “Forensics.” 

“Confirmed.”

“Cap, Nova…” Rumlow nodded to them both.

“Rumlow.” Steve acknowledged him as the doors closed and they started to descend.

“Evidence Response found some fibres on the roof they want us to see.” Rumlow turned his head to look at Steve. “You want me to get the tac-team ready?”

“No, let’s wait and see what it is first.”

“Right.” Rumlow turned back and Steve looked out of the side of the elevator, pondering what his next move was. Chase down the man responsible? The drive? The elevator stopped at the next floor and Rollins plus a few more SHIELD and Strike agents entered, Steve moving over slightly to allow them in.

“What’s the status so far?” Rollins was saying.

“Administrations level” another one asked, before they continued whatever it was they were talking about, moving round to find a space behind Steve and Katie.

He noticed Katie look round, a frown on her face, but before he could say anything Rumlow spoke, looking over his shoulder at Steve.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Fury. Messed up, what happened to him”

“Thank you.” Steve nodded.

Katie could sense something was off. Years of training as an Agent didn’t just leave you when you quit, and those years of training had taught her very well to read body language. Rumlow was alert, too alert, and it was more than just a nervousness because Fury had been killed. There was an atmosphere in the lift, and she glanced at one of the agents that had joined them at the last floor. He was still talking, normally, but he there was a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek from his temple.

Steve could sense it too. He watched as Rumlow and Rollins exchanged a glance and looked down at Katie who was watching him, nervous expression on her face. He shook his head gently, instructing her to keep calm.

The elevator stopped and another agent entered.

“Records”

This one stood in front of them, facing the elevator doors and it was then with a slight air of exasperation at allowing it to happen, Steve realised they were surrounded. Whilst he wasn’t too concerned, he knew he could more than likely fight his way out, it was his girl he was bothered for. It had been months since she had been in active combat, and this was going to be brutal. Besides him Katie stiffened, feeling very underprepared for what was about to go down. She had no weapons, nothing. Instinctively Steve gripped her hand and pulled her forward so she was stood next to him instead of behind and moved his feet apart slightly, hands on the buckle of his belt, adopting his Captain stance, preparing for what was coming.

“Before we get started,” he sighed, looking down before he stared straight ahead, “does anyone want to get out?”

His eyes flicked to the back of Rumlow’s head. There was a moment’s pause before all hell broke loose. They both put up a good fight, ducking, diving, punching. Steve was then shocked with a baton, but he simply grit his teeth, absorbing the electricity into his body. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable. And then, three of them managed to snap one of his arms to the wall of the elevator using some kind of metallic clamp, before five of them piled on him at once, attempting to pin his other arm in too. He kicked out, taking down as many as he could.

Just as Katie had floored the second of the agents who had launched at her, she was grabbed from behind by her hair and hauled to the edge of the elevator, being wrestled roughly to the floor by Rumlow who was instantly on top of her, trying to get her wrists from where she had positioned them underneath her body in an attempt to stop them restraining her.

"Brock…” She spoke gently, looking at him as she swallowed. “What’s going on?” “I’m sorry Stark.” He shook his head. “Just following orders.”

“Yeah well follow this.”  She snarled, the anger brewing in her as she jerked her head forwards as hard as she could, feeling it connect with his nose.  He yelled, and then her head snapped painfully to the right as he back handed her straight across the face. She felt her lip split and the warm, metallic taste of blood hit her taste buds, stars flashing in front of her eyes as her ears began to ring from the harsh knock.

Steve saw Rumlow land the blow to Katie’s face and let out a growl of anger and aimed another kick at the final agent standing, causing them man to collide with the side of the elevator before slumping down. He turned, pulled on his arm as hard as he could, wrenching the cuff off the side of the elevator and looked up in time to see Katie, who was now pinned against the wall by another set of those damned cuffs, take a blow to the ribs from Rumlow causing her to cry out in pain.

“Rumlow!” Steve yelled causing the man to whip his head round, surprise on his face. Katie, using her arms as leverage, swung her legs upwards, kicking Rumlow with both feet. The STRIKE leader stumbled slightly as Steve snarled at him, his entire body and face alight with rage “Touch my girl again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Rumlow got to his feet, holding one of his arms out, electric rod in his hand “Whoa, big guy. I just want you both to know, this ain’t personal.”

He then lunged at Steve with his electric rod but one on one Steve was easily able to defend himself, he moved to the right, dodged and grabbed Rumlow, throwing him harshly upwards where he crashed into the ceiling of the elevator, before falling to the floor, unconscious.

“Yeah well, it kind of feels personal” Steve said, his breath slightly ragged from the exertion. He used his foot to flip his shield over like a Frisbee, catching it perfectly.

“You alright?” Steve asked, stepping over the bodies that littered the floor of the elevator to get to Katie.

“Yeah.” She assured him. Steve cut the cuffs that were restraining her into two pieces with his shield and she bent over, his hands gently on her back as she rubbed at her side before straightening up and stalking over to where Rumlow was beginning to stir slightly. She kicked him hard in the face, causing him to flip backwards and he was out, unconscious.

“Nothing personal.” She spat, then looked up at Steve. There was a moment during which they both looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened, before the elevator doors opened and Steve pulled Katie sharply behind him. They both stared at a team of STRIKE agents pointing their weapons into the elevator. Steve raised his shield.

“Drop the shield! Put your hands in the air!”

Steve looked round, and spotted the elevator wires to the left of Katie’s head

“DUCK!” he yelled at her, and as she did, he swiped with his shield over her head sending them plummeting. Eventually the emergency brake systems kicked in and the elevator stopped, slightly misaligned with the doors by a few feet. As Katie bent down to retrieve a gun and some ammo off one of the Agents, Steve forced the door open, intending to climb out but more STRIKE agents were approaching. He closed the door again and looked at Katie, then around the glass walls, looking down below us at the glass roof of the main Triskelion atrium.

It was a long way but they could make it.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Katie exclaimed, realising exactly what he was thinking.

“Give it up, Rogers! Get that door open! You have nowhere to go!” came the yell from the floor outside the elevator door.

“Do you trust me?” Steve asked, both his hands cupping Katie’s face.

“Of course I do, but…”

“Then hang on…”

She sighed and jumped onto his back, swinging her legs round his waist and her arms round his neck. Steve raised his shield in front of him, before he propelled them forward and broke through the glass in the elevator, spreading his arms out wide as he fell to prevent them from tumbling through the air before tucking his body as tightly in to his shield as he could. Katie did the same, burying her head into his back as they crashed through the glass ceiling and hit the floor with a loud clang, to screams and shouts from people all around the atrium.

Katie gave a soft groan, rolling off Steve who moaned and stretched out, having been winded from the impact. But Steve knew they had to keep moving. With a monumental effort, he pushed himself up onto his knees, took a deep breath and offered his hand to Katie to help her stand. They both took a quick glance around before he started to run, pulling her with him. She stumbled slightly, but Steve kept hold of her, not letting her fall until her legs seemed to be working again.

And then they ran.

**** Chapter 15

**Original Posting**

[i-ntrmission]

Nine (Van McCann)

Just a silly little fic where Van is sporadic regular at a coffee shop. 

Part 1 (4.3k)

They say bad things happen in threes.

Your phone hadn’t charged overnight, leaving you with 15% battery.

A car ran through a puddle during your walk to work, soaking your legs.

An elderly man held the door of the coffee shop open for you, gesturing with a newspaper for you to go ahead, and a smile that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, until a busy mum storms out from the shop knocking into you and spilling fresh coffee down your jacket.

“Tough morning, eh?” Your co-worker, and resident barista genius, Toby comments with a chuckle while you stomped around the counter. Having seen what just happened, and taking in your soaked tights.

Julia, resident window art and slogan genius, glancing around from the till with a sympathetic pout while you roll your eyes at Toby, pushing on the staff door.

“Oh, leave off Tobes - leave her be. That was tragic, babe. Spare tights in my bag, help yourself.” She says before turning back to the line of customers.

“Cheers, Julia.” You sigh in relief while heading into the back, Toby’s dry chuckles and singsong of ‘Happy Friday!’ following you.

Once you have on dry tights, cleaned what you can from your jacket (thankfully it was leather), and hunted down a spare charger for your phone, you grab your apron and head back out.

By some grace of god, you had a later shift for today, meaning you missed the usual breakfast run full of impatient office employees, half asleep students, pass remarkable construction workers - thankful, with the way your morning had went you wouldn’t have been fit for dealing with that kind of stress this morning. Now in the clear for the easy hours before lunch.

“There she is,” Toby, a lazy grin when you re-emerge, Julia leaning on the counter beside him sipping from a mug, basking in the post breakfast rush comedown. “Here ya go, looks like you need it.” He slides a takeaway cup over to you, and you all too eagerly take a sip. Caffeine can nearly always fix anything, especially a bad morning.

Cinnamon caramel macchiato, a hum of appreciation and a drawn out ‘thank you.” He only chuckles out a ‘no bother’, picking up his tea. You had always found it ironic that someone who despised the taste and smell of coffee worked in a coffee shop, and on top of that made really fucking good coffee.

“So what’s happened you? Apparent from the coffee incident obvs, looked like you wanted to throttle all us when you came in,” Julia asks, brown eyes glancing over you as she takes another sip from her mug.

“Nah, she just always looks like that,” Toby says, a teasing grin. You just roll your eyes, it was true that your resting bitch face was Medusa level.

A sigh, taking another mouthful of your coffee and picking up a basin to start clearing the tables with while you shrug and launch into the story of your morning.

“Happens in threes, doesn’t it.” Julia comments when you catch them up.

"Well, that's my three strikes done for the day, thank fuck,” you shrug. She frowns at that.

"Touch wood."

"What?"

"You jinxed it saying that, need to touch wood for good luck!" Appalled that you never heard of the superstition at question.

Rolling your eyes, a huff as you walk away to start cleaning up. “Think I’ll be alright, Jules.” You weren’t superstitious. “Want some salt instead? Throw it over your shoulder!” Toby chuckles.

Julia only elbows him in the side, telling you both to piss off, mumbling something about having to spill salt first before you could do that.

But, maybe there was some truth in her superstitions because no less than ten minutes later, a cup slipped through your fingers smashing on the floor. Cursing yourself and then glancing meekly in her direction, she watched with a raised brow.

“Reckon it’s too late to touch wood?”

After the cup, you break a plate.

After the plate, you stand back to let a toddler and mum pass by you to get to the bathrooms, standing back with a smile - until you knock over a stand of artisan coffee bags.

“Another three down,” Julia mutters with a smirk while stacking clean cups.

“Sure you don’t want that salt?” Toby quips while walking by you as you sweep up spilt coffee beans. You give him the finger behind the dustpan you held, he reaches up as if to scratch at his beard - sliding his middle finger along his cheek, right back at you.

Your bad luck continues. During the lunch rush you manage to burn a granddad’s toasted sandwich, shortchange a regular who worked in the bookies across the street, and upend a student’s iced latte over your top.

You’re hopelessly scrubbing at the stain on your top when Julia walks into the back, grabbing her pack of fags.

“Jesus,” she mumbles, a dumbfounded look at how much you had managed to fuck up today. Completely out of character for you, a perfectionist by nature. “Did ya break a mirror or sommat lately?”

You only sigh and shake your head, “Any significance in the number 9?”

She thinks for a second, then smiles as she pulls a lighter from her jacket pocket. “9 is supposed to be good luck, actually. New beginnings,” she tilts her head, looking at you, “maybe buy a scratch card, or come to the pub quiz tonight!”

You laugh but before you can reply your manager walks in, a empathic glint in her eye. Everyone who worked here adored Carly, the ultimate mother figure. A caring but also a take no shit kind of person.

Your name - as she walks in, “what’s going on, pet? You’re a one man wrecking machine today!”

She tells you to take an early lunch, go home and get changed, clear your head and the come back. You sigh in relief of not having to wear a soggy blouse for the rest of the day. Half way home when you realize you’ve left your phone charging under the counter.

Finding Julia’s cat, Kurt, sitting on the steps to your and Julia’s shared basement flat. He purrs, pushing his head into your hand when you reach down to pick him up. You spend the next half hour sprawled on your bed with Kurt, eating rice crackers and watching “Best of Dean Winchester” complications on YouTube. Self care.

An hour later, when you walk back into the cafè Julia does a double take, stretching her arms wide and tilting her head in a ‘what the fuck!’ manner.

“Yeah? What’s up?” You ask, walking around the counter to pick back up your apron.

“Where’s your phone?! I’ve been texting you! Guess who’s bloody back?” A rush, and she’s all but bouncing on the spot, eyes gleaming with excitement.

You reach under the counter to pick up your phone, holding it up to her. It was still turned off but charged now. Telling her you forgot about it before you left. Not really bothered about her sudden elation, probably just one of her newest little crushes that changed every month. You entertain her, nonetheless.

“Who? Your man from the butchers?” Asking, while tying your apron, she shakes her head, eyes alight.

“Hm, weird uni Tolstoy wannabe?” You guess again, she shakes her head, then adds that he’s not weird just a bit eccentric and there’s nothing wrong with that. You still think the fact that he’s read War and Peace four times, and brags about, is a red flag.

You’re about to suggest the blonde and blue haired girl from the library when she cuts you off. “Anyway it’s nowt to do with me, cmon you know who it is!”

You only stare at her, blinking and out of guesses. She sighs your name is exasperation.

“Christ, you’re hopeless today. It’s only Van fuckin’ McCann, isn’t it!”

Your eyes widen, heart kicking around your ribs and blood pounds a bit harder at mention of his name. A reaction that surprises you.

“Fuck off!” It comes out as an alarmed whisper.

Van McCann had been coming to the coffee shop for three years now. Often showing up for a few days at a time and then seemingly disappearing off the face of the earth.

He had an obsession with the loyalty cards you dished out with the paper cups, nine stamps got a free drink. He never filled one.

He first showed up three summers ago, middle of a heatwave. He was wearing all black, ripped jeans, and a holy jumper. The holes and rips didn’t seem to be a fashion statement, more like he had just worn the clothes to death. He was pale, too pale. Shoulder length hair that definitely hadn’t seen a shower in a couple days, bags under his eyes. Towing along a smaller guy with long hair and a bandana. They looked out of place. A cloud of cigarette smoke lingering around them, underlying weed.

You and Julia had exchanged a glance. “Homeless? Junkies?” She mouthed at you, after they had sat down with their teas and cinnamon buns you had freshly made that morning. You had rolled your eyes, told her to stop being a judgmental prick.

He came back the next morning, on his own. Same jeans but a black T-shirt, and fluffy hair. You had been cleaning tables, observing while Toby served him. He wanted another cinnamon bun, Toby told him he was out of luck, you hadn’t made them that morning. Glancing over his shoulder with interest when Toby had pointed you out as the resident baker.

The third morning he was back again, a Glasvegas T-shirt. Julia told him you loved that band while he was waiting on his coffee. You were putting out fresh cherry and chocolate scones, when he caught your eye.

“Ey, they’re class aren’t they? What’s ya favourite song?”

You always struggled to hold his gaze when he looked at you, that didn’t change with time. Insanely blue eyes framed with lashes that were wasted on him. You shrugged, “probably Lots Sometimes.” And he had broke out into a wide grin, giving you the first glimpse of his slightly crooked bunny teeth.

You had given him the first of many loyalty cards that day, seeing as he had come in for three mornings straight, he pocketed it with a little huff of laughter, novelty.

He didn’t come back for months after that.

You and Julia spent the next few days speculating who he was and where he had gone, passing slow shifts. Toby rolled his eyes at the theories, saying that he most likely found the new Starbucks across town. Julia sighed in disappointment while muttering something about how conglomerate multi nationals were the root of all evil.

However, he turned up again a month or two later. A busy morning, frantic. You hadn’t even had a chance to look up at the next person in line when you heard his voice, “well ‘ello again, Glasvegas.”

And that’s how it went on, the cycle of Van appearing for a little bit then vanishing for longer. Each time he easily became the best part of the long days - banter, shameless flirting, footie talk with Toby, taste testing any and everything you had baked as a trial run, swapping stories, endless loyalty cards.

He always had a strange little smile when you added an fresh coffee cup stamp to the grid, something the general customer didn’t really care about and it was often a surprise when they filled the card up.

He never gave a heads up when he would be leaving again, he simply just disappeared. And you tried to pretend it wasn’t weird that you got a plummeting feeling in your stomach when it came to the day he didn’t show up. Blue eyes, freckles, a contagious laugh. It was all lingering stares, fingers brushing longer than necessary, throwaway salacious comments.

“C’mon babe, you know he’ll be back, quit sulking,” Julia would playfully elbow you when the day came, and you shook your head with snort, “Shut up, M’not sulking.”

You eventually found out he was in a band, and sometime last year he had asked you if you wanted to come to one of his gigs. Well, he had asked the three of you - but Julia was going on holidays that weekend, Toby had a wedding, and when his eyes met yours you had instinctively crafted a lie about going to visit your sister in London. Something Julia gave you shit for for weeks afterward. You didn’t have a sister, and you hated London.

A few weeks after that incident - by then Van was long gone, Julia stormed into the café with an NME magazine in hand, slamming down on the counter, Van’s face filled the cover.

“Fucking hell!” You and Toby had exhaled in near unison.

“So turns out he’s actually proper famous then, eh?” Julia laughed.

“Am I the bad boy of rock, then? Oh mate..” Toby read from the cover, laughing. “And you turned down the chance to be his bands groupie!” He joked, turning to you.

“Here, I thought he wanted us to go watch his shite Arctic Monkeys rip off band play sweaty Whelans okay?!” You defended.

“Do you think we can start a wall of famous regulars now?” Julia changed the subject, taking a fresh scone you were laying out, flicking to the pages of his interview.

“Yeah, Rock’s bad boy Van McCann and Barry from Eastenders. What a lineup...” Toby snorted, going back to stacking coffee beans.

“I mean, Van kind of looks like Hugh Grant... If you squint.” You shrugged.

You and Julia went home and watched countless Catfish and the Bottlemen interviews and live sets, you liked seeing how Van never changed. No matter who he was talking to. Treating everyone like they were an old friend, not someone he had just met 5 minutes ago.

The band seemed to really take off that year, he came back less and less. But he was still the same old Van when he did, success didn’t change him. Then their second album dropped a year ago, and you hadn’t seen him since. You were happy for him, it was obvious that he was living his dream. Eventually, you stopped thinking about him all that much, life moved on.

Now you were looking at a smug Julia, instinctively glancing around the shop while she laughs and tells you he’s long gone.

“Came in literally 5 minutes after you went out, this day is honestly like some weird fever dream.” She tells you, while Toby comes out from the back.

“And she told him you didn’t work here anymore, should have seen the poor lad’s face!” Toby chuckles.

The two of them look at at each other with a groan when you ask why he’d be upset about you not being here anymore.

“I swear to god, if I have to watch the eye fucking over coffee cups for the next few days...” she sighs, an eye roll. “He’s made it obvious he’s fancied you since the first day he walked in, yeah? Give him a chance!”

“Fucking hell, that’s pure bollocks,” exasperated. Met with a disbelieving look, which only brings you further into defensive mode. “Look, you even gave him my number on one of the stupid loyalty cards last time, never even heard from him. Obviously isn’t interested one bit.”

Julia had asked you if she could write your number on his loyalty card last spring. You had only half said yes, half said no. Noncommittal, all she needed to run with it. She handed it back to him without saying anything, only a smug smirk. You pretended you hadn’t sprung for your phone at every notification for the next two weeks in hope of hearing from him, you never did.

Julia - another eye roll, hands in the air, “Dunno, maybe he just lost the card! You just need to stop writing people off before you get to proper know them!”

The rest of the day dragged, but no more bad luck. As if the universe realigned around Van, which probably wasn’t too far from the truth.

By closing time, it’s just you and Toby left to do the clean up and lockup. It’s nearly 9 when you hear him drawl your name, walking into the kitchen and leaning against the doorway.

“Hey, Kiddo...”

“Toby, my love, what have I told you about patronizing me before you ask me for a favour?” Humming while you put cling filmed dough into the fridge for the pecan pie you were planning on making tomorrow morning.

He laughs and walks in, leaning against the counter. “Alright, sorry - princess.”

Shutting the fridge as you turn to face him with an eye roll, wordlessly telling him to go on. He launches into the how he kind of maybe forgot that his anniversary with his fiancée is tomorrow, their usual Italian restaurant they go to every year is fully booked but he knows the chef. Who, as of this morning, promised to do a private dinner for them, if he meets him at half nine and buys him a couple of drinks.

You listen while you clean off the counter tops, shaking your head with a laugh. “Dunno, mate. What’s in it for me? I mean apart from the joy of mopping floors and taking out the bins?”

Playful - a long sigh. “Isn’t the selfless act of helping out a friend in need reward enough?”

“Yeah, but we’d have to be friends first for that wouldn’t we?” You tilt your head.

“God, you’re such a little bitch sometimes, y’know that?” He chuckles, you shrug. “Right, how about I take the bins out and mop the floors all of next week, and I’ll treat ya to a Sunday roast down the pub after we finish Sunday, deal?”

He holds out his hand, eyes narrowing. Pretending to mull it over for a few seconds, you wouldn’t have made a fuss about him asking you to finish up tonight anyway, but he was always too easy to wind up. Eventually you sigh out a “suppose so” and take his hand.

Pulling you into a hug, dragging out a noise that resembles, ‘legend’ while kissing your head.

Once he’s gone, along with the rubbish, locking you in and halfway pulling the shutter down outside, you put on a Richard Ashcroft album and start on the floor.

Crazy world - you’re half singing along to the chorus, and finishing the floor, when you hear a faint noise behind the music. Insistent tapping. Confusion clouding - knowing you were here alone, glancing behind you, your grip tightening on the mop. And you almost jump out of your skin, a shadow in the entrance to the shop.

It’s Van.

He had clearly ducked under the shutter, now outside the door silhouetted by buzz of streetlamps, tapping on the glass. He laughs at your startled expression, holding up his hands and mouthing ‘sorry, sorry!”

Heart - thumping even harder now, lightheaded. Grabbing your keys to unlock the door, and when you’re face to face with him your mouth goes dry.

“Thought you’d gone and left on us, Glasvegas,”

Gaze flickering over you, a smile tugging on his lips. You can tell he’s been drinking, the all too familiar scent of hours spent in the pub lingers, mixed with fresh cigarettes, shrunken pupils and glassy eyes. A wave of trepidation prickles along your arms, drunk men made you nervous.

But - it’s Van, all messy hair, drunk eyes, and a lazy tired kind of grin. Relaxed and happy.

“Nope, still here like always,” releasing a breath you didn’t realise that you had been holding. Focusing on his necklace, sliver glinting under opened shirt buttons. “Heard Julia was messin’ with you earlier, eh?”

“Too good at fuckin’ with us that one,” he laughs, licking his lips. “Had me dead convinced you’d gone.”

Creased blue shirt - sleeves rolled up, the colour only makes his eyes look even more blue, and even more pretty. Finding yourself being increasingly self conscious despite his equally disheveled appearance. Knowing that your foundation was separating, concealer caking, mascara flaking and lipstick long gone. Coffee stains and flour marking your clothes.

“Did you want to come in for a sec?” You manage to ask.

“Can I? Won’t get ya in trouble or anything? Cause yous are closed.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes while beckoning him in. “C’mon, didn’t have you down as someone who follows the rules, McCann. Careful though, floor is still wet.”

“Oh, no, you’re dead right ‘bout that, love. Just I had you down as someone who always follows the rules.” Winking at you as he walks in, commenting how different the place feels at night.

“Anyways,” he turns back to you with a hum of your name, “Sorry that I scared you, don’t want ya to think I’m being weird coming here this late or anything, I was on me way home see, passing by and I found these on the ground outside..”

He holds up a hand, key chain around his finger and a Harley Davidson key ring you immediately recognize as Toby’s.

You cut him off, telling him they’re Toby’s, that he must have dropped them after locking you in earlier, and that he’s a fucking idiot. An entertained smile curving his lips at your mini rant.

“Sorry, been a long day.”

“Yeah, Julia mentioned you’d been having bad luck or sommat, tell me about it?” A hopeful glint in his eye, and you wondered if he had ever been denied anything in his life.

Ending up making him coffee and giving him leftover banana bread while you ran him through the dramatics of your day. He, like Julia, was shocked that you had never heard of the touch wood superstition.

“Sounds like you’ve been through it, love... then I show up and make it worse, eh?” Finishing his cake and his eyes find yours again.

“Yeah, something like that,” a teasing sort of lithe, the more you talked to him the more at ease you felt around him. It’s familiar.

“Alright, alright! See how it is!” His voice raising to a squeak, you laughed.

You wouldn’t let him pay for the coffee and banana bread, saying it was on the house for saving the shop from being robbed. He only shrugs and leans against the counter beside you. “Just means I’m gonna have to buy you one back, doesn’t it.”

“Thanks for the gesture, but I do get free coffee working here, y’know,” you tell him, already hearing Julia’s words about writing people off, but he was only being nice, wasn’t he?

“Fairs, I’ll buy ya one from a different place then, good to try out the competition innit?” Arms crossing while he looks at you, and you shake your head. Your cheeks aching from the permanent smile you had since he walked in, and you knew you’d cringe about that later tonight when you replayed the scene over in your head in bed.

“Only competition round here is Starbucks, and I don’t think Julia would let you step foot in here again if you buy anything from there.”

He laughs at that, telling you he was more thinking of crappy petrol station coffee. Something you scrunch your nose in disgust at, asking him if that’s all your worth to him. Drawing another laugh.

“C’mere I’d rather take you out for a pint, but m’sparing myself from the inevitable rejection and heartbreak,” he laughs, shaking his head. Your teeth sink into your lip, picking at loose skin on your thumb nail, practically hearing Julia screaming at you in your head.

“How long are you back for?” Finding yourself asking, though you never had before. Not something you ever talked about, questioned. He gives you a look, a smirk.

“Never talk about that do we, love?” He echoes your thoughts while digging in his pocket, ridiculously tight skinny jeans, until his pulls out the green little loyalty card. 8 empty stamp grids, his first one filled by Julia today. “But I’m gonna fill one of these eventually! Toby’s bet me a fiver that I won’t until I’m 30.”

You’re half tempted to ask him why he never called, or texted, or did anything with your number on the last card. Instead your mouth curls around telling him that you’d best lock up and get home. You’re knackered. He asks how you’re getting home, telling him you’re walking, that you only live 15 minutes away while he glances outside. Orange glow of streetlamps. It’s nearing 10, autumn weather starting to creep in.

“It’s dark out.” He states the obvious.

“And?”

“Love, I ain’t letting you walk home in the dark alone! Let me walk ya,” Exclaiming, typical Van fashion. Shaking your head, knowing his intentions were good but you were stubborn.

“Who are you, me dad? I’m more than capable of getting myself home, Van.” Teasing but firm, arching a brow at him. He tells you he’ll get you an Uber then, you repeat that it’s only 15 minutes home, that you’re walking. He only stares at you for a second or two, and you can’t hold it. Thankful that he’s obviously drunk and tired, because he gives in.

“Then at least text me when ya get home, yeah?” Curling his fingers for you to give him your phone, something you’re tempted to deny. But finding it endearing that he cares so much. Handing your phone over. He messes up his number twice.

Unexpectedly, he pulls you in for a hug before he leaves. All warm skin, and you realise you wish you could stay here talking shite with him for longer. All night even.

You watch him walk over to the door. “Right, night.. you’ll be here in the morning, yeah?” He glances back.

“Bright and early.” You confirm.

“Any cinnamon buns going?”

“Maybe, if you get in early enough.”

He laughs. “Right, night then. See ya tomorrow, Glasvegas. Text me, don’t forget!” He calls while he walks out and you grab your stuff to follow him out once you set the alarm.

Watching - he pretends to walk down stairs on the other side of the window before ducking under the shutter.

Leaving you to shake your head with an amused laugh. What a fucking day.

[shotsbyshae]

In the Dark

Warnings: Language

Words: 2.9k

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Summary: You only thought Ransom was an asshole, wait until you meet his family. Sequel to My Oh My & Trouble

Song: In the Dark by Camila Cabello

Thank you @hysteria87​ and @sagechanoafterdark​ for supporting me with this annoyingly lovable asshole.

*Spoiler free: no movie connections whatsoever.

I can see you’re scared of your emotions, I can see you’re hoping, you’re not hopeless.

“No.”

Your answer is quick, and Ransom flicks his eyes up at you over the top of his laptop screen, watching as you shake your head adamantly.

“Hell no.”

“Why not?” he questions, obviously annoyed by your quick response.

For the last two weeks your free time has been filled with his smug, arrogant ass. You’ve been fielding question after question on Steve’s life and maybe it’s selfish, but you just want a weekend to yourself.

You keep your attention on the towels your folding. They’re still warm – fresh from the dryer. “I – I have a date.”

“Since when?” he’s not convinced.

Glancing over you narrow your eyes at him before spotting your phone on the coffee table between the two of you. His gaze follows yours as you reach for the device, and he moves quickly, grabbing it before you do.

“What?” Ransom exclaims. “You going to swipe right on some random guy. Risk wasting your weekend on some asshole you don’t even know.” A sly smile crosses his face. “At least you know me.”

You glare at him for a moment, you’ve learned to never take anything at face value with Ransom, “What’s going on? Why even ask me? Don’t you have a little black book?”

There’s a sigh, his lips forming a thin line before he places your phone back on the table, “Granddad is the only one who knows what I’m doing, and I want to keep it that way. My parents are – difficult – to say the least.” He leans back in the chair and you can see a hint of anxiety there. “Granddad wants to meet you – the muse behind my idea. That’s what he calls you.”

You raise a curious eyebrow at him, “But if no one else knows what you’re doing, then who would your parents think I am?” He gives a half-smile and you shake your head again. “No.”

“It’s cliché, but –”

“Fuck no,” you reiterate. The thought of meeting Harlan Thrombey is one thing but having to pose as Ransom’s girlfriend is an entirely different story.

“Okay then,” he responds defeatedly before closing his laptop. “How about three?”

“Three what?”

“Three thousand.” A small snort of laughter escapes you, and Ransom smirks. “Did you just – snort?”

“My God,” you remark, standing up. “You don’t like being told no, do you?”

He tilts his head, the unimpressed look on his face is one you’ve seen before. Steve used to give you the same look when you’d question his authority or irk him in anyway. It’s a bit of a weakness for you and you hate yourself for it.

“Look it’s just one day,” Ransom says, absent-mindedly rubbing his earlobe between his thumb and forefinger – his tell. He’s really not wanting to go alone for some reason, which makes you curious. His voice is barely audible when he says the word, which is obviously foreign to him. “Please.”

You gather the towels with a sigh. “Make it five thousand.” A mischievous smile crosses your face. “And I’ll be your Julia Roberts – to an extent.”

There’s a boyish grin on his face as he nods in agreement, “Deal.”

***

The house is enormous, and you can’t help but feel in awe of it as you step out of the car. Adjusting the black skirt which you’d paired with tights and a wine-colored sweater, you can’t help but feel a little anxious about what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Approach it like a mission.

That’s the thought you keep you pushing through your mind. Hopefully like all weekends, this one will fly by and be over before you know it.

Ransom makes his way around the front of his car, offering his arm, “Shall we?” You glance from his arm to his face and roll your eyes dramatically before walking towards the house, leaving him standing by the car alone. “Well, this should be fun.” He mutters to himself as he strides quickly to catch up with you.

He opens the front door, and you step inside, the heels of your boots clicking audibly in the foyer. The house is warm – cozy – exactly as you expected it to be from the outside with it’s gothic décor. You begin to shrug off your coat, your back to the staircase in the corner when you hear the squeak of the wood from someone descending them.

“Your parents just called,” an older man’s voice states. “They’re running late.”

“With any luck I’ll miss them,” Ransom says dryly, taking your coat. You turn around with a smile as Ransom introduces the two of you.

“Well, a muse indeed,” Harlan says with a warm smile.

“It’s an honor to meet you Mr. Thrombey,” you say as he accepts the hand you offer him, kissing the top of your knuckles in a gentleman like fashion. “I’m a big fan or your work.”

Ransom cocks his head at you like a confused puppy, “Really?”

“Please,” he remarks. “Call me Harlan. Which is your favorite?”

“It’s a toss-up between The Needle Game and Drop in the Bucket,” you reply.

“You never told me that,” Ransom comments in confusion at your statement.

“And you never asked,” the response comes out a bit harsher than you intended.

He looks taken back with your statement, “Well – you want a drink? I need a drink.” Without waiting for your answer, he heads off into the library.

There’s a mischievous glint in the older man’s eyes as you glance back at him, “What?”

“It’s starting to make sense now,” Harlan comments, unable to contain his grin. “With a muse like you, I can understand why he’s spending all his time in New York.”

You fold your arms over your chest, “I don’t know what he told you, but we’re not –”

“I can tell,” the older man smirks.

***

“Five thousand huh?” Harlan questions as the two of you stand upstairs in his library, overlooking the banister to the rest of the library downstairs. “You took the money up front, right?”

“Of course, but I would have done it for the three,” you remark before turning the high ball glass of bourbon in your hand up. “Why did he want me to come?”

“Distraction I suppose. I mean – I love my daughter,” Harlan says with a sigh. “But she and Richard can be –” He trails off unsure of how to say it.

“Difficult,” you use the word Ransom used and the older man smiles.

“Exactly,” Harlan looks over the rail to see his grandson pouring himself another drink at the serving cart below.

‘You always have to be so difficult.’ Steve’s words echo through your mind and you say quietly, “So am I.”

“No my dear, you challenge him,” Harlan corrects you. “There’s a difference.”

The sound of the front door opening makes Ransom twist the top off the bottle and proceed to double up on the drink he just poured.

“Dad,” a woman’s voice calls out from the foyer.

“Showtime,” Harlan says as he lets you take another sip from your glass before he takes it from you. “Go, save him.”

You give a smile and a nod before you walk off.

“See, I told you,” Richard states to his wife as they walk into the library, seeing Ransom standing alone. “If it’s not a girl, what have you been up to in New York? Partying.”

“Hi Dad – Mom,” the man remarks before turning his glass up.

“What’s the excuse this time?” his father questions.

“Richard,” Linda begins to stop him.

“Did she have work? Does she even have a real job?” he says dismissively. “Or is she one of those – influencers?”

“I work for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” you state boldly from the bottom of the spiral staircase behind the pair. Listening to the man in front of you bullying his son irritates you something fierce. “You might have heard of them.”

The look of surprise on Linda and Richard’s faces is priceless as they turn to see you stride casually across to where Ransom stands. You try not to smirk as you take his glass from him, sipping it slowly as you step into his side. Your other hand slips around his waist instinctively as he carefully rests his hand on your lower back before he introduces you to his parents.

“Dad said you weren’t staying for dinner,” Linda comments after the introductions and Ransom glances up at his grandfather, who is still standing at the railing above.

“No,” he comments, unaware Harlan had given him the out. “We aren’t.”

“I have a work thing,” you almost sneer in Richard’s direction – tension between you obvious.

“Did you ever work with Iron Man?” the older man questions, obviously uncertain you’re telling the truth and you nod your head. “You know, I met Tony Stark once.” There’s a hint a maliciousness in his voice. “Not to speak ill of the dead, but he was prick.”

Without missing a beat, you smile sweetly, “Well, Tony always said it takes one to know one.”

Ransom nearly chokes on the bourbon he’s just took a sip of as Harlan erupts into laughter from upstairs.

Later you watch through the window as Ransom sits on the patio, Richard is standing in front of him, obviously reprimanding him for something. You wait until his father storms back into the house before you slip out the door, feeling Linda’s eyes following you.

“There is not enough alcohol in this house,” you say quietly as you move towards him. “Is she still watching me?”

Ransom’s eyes drift over to the window then back to you, “Like a hawk.”

You move to sit in his lap, causing him to shift uncomfortably as you lean against him, “She’s asked me so many questions.” You say quietly as you stare into the backyard watching the two dogs playing. “I’m surprised she didn’t ask for a blood sample.”  

“If Granddad’s nurse was here, she would have.”

“When you said difficult,” you lean back to look down at him, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I had no idea.”

“Rethinking your price?” Ransom remarks dryly.

“No,” you say, the corners of mouth hinting at a smile. “I really don’t like bullies.” Leaning back into him, you press your forehead against the base of his neck as you say quietly. “I would have done it for free.”

He laughs a little as his hand moves to rest on your knee, the heat radiating through your tights and onto your skin, causes your breath to catch slightly as he says, “I would have paid seven.”

There’s a moment of silence before you move to stand up. The comfortableness of the situation becoming a little too much for you, “We should probably get going.” He nods in agreement, following your lead.

“I’m telling you,” Richards voice echoes from the library. “There’s something going on here. A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent – really? I’m not buying it. That asshole is up to something.”

The audacity of the man baffles you, and Ransom tries to catch up as you storm into the library and over to where his father stands. You grab the collar of your sweater jerking it down, exposing your shoulder and the bright pink scar there.

“Six months ago, I was shot in Paris by an arms dealer,” you say angrily. “Because that’s my job.” Harlan stands up from his chair, watching the scene unfold. You turn to Ransom grabbing his sleeve and tugging it.

“I don’t –” he looks down at you, but can see the rage in your eyes and he sighs before he pulls his arm from the sleeve, allowing you to move the sweater over his shoulder as you push the sleeve of his undershirt up, exposing the fresh scar there.

“Ransom what is that?” Linda questions her son, concern on her face.

“That’s from a bullet,” you answer for him. “You know what kind of person takes a bullet for someone else?” You ask rhetorically. “Someone with a good heart and how he got that, living in such a toxic environment, is beyond me.” Harlan can’t hide the smile on his face as Ransom eases his arm back into his sweater sleeve. “So – in my book – you’re the asshole.” Richard stands there, shell shocked as you glance past them to Harlan. “Sorry Harlan, it was great meeting you.”

“Pleasure was mine dear,” he nods as you turn to storm out of the library.

Ransom gives a cocky smile as he waves before he turns to follow after you, watching you grab your coat before you open the door and head outside. He has to jog to catch up with you, his hand reaching for the passenger door before you can.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he comments quietly, watching your nostrils flare slightly as you try to steady your breathing.

“Someone needed to,” you reply as he opens the door.

Once he climbs into the driver seat, he sits there for a moment before saying, “Thank you.”

“Oh, I’ll also be taking the master tonight,” you remark with a smirk.

He laughs as he starts the car, “Of course you will.”

***

Once inside Ransom’s house you head straight for the kitchen, looking through the refrigerator first before nosily pulling open the drawer for the freezer.

“Well, well, well,” you comment to yourself, grabbing the pint of ice cream.

“If you’re hungry, we could order in,” Ransom says walking in behind. “Or go out.”

“This will work,” you say, producing the container. “I didn’t take you for a cookies and cream kind of guy.”

“You never asked,” he grins, watching you search for a spoon. “Left drawer.” You open the one he’s talking about and pull out two spoons. “Thank you again – for today.”

“You’re welcome,” you remove the top from the pint and hand Ransom a spoon.

“You really stepped up,” he remarks. “Played your part quiet well.”

Scooping up some ice cream casually, you say, “You realize undercover work is part of my job.” He watches you curiously as you slip the spoon from your mouth.

“What’s the most fun?” he looks intrigued. “Role that you’ve had to play?”

Thinking for a moment as he slips a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth you finally answer, “Housewife. For over a week.”

“Really? With who?”

“That’s classified,” you say with a smirk causing him to laugh. Looking down at the pint of ice cream a thought strikes you. “Got any vodka?” He moves to a cabinet producing the bottle you asked for and watches as you go to the refrigerator. “Glasses too, please.” Ransom grabs those as well and leans against the counter as you begin measuring out the liquor and scooping ice cream into each glass, followed by milk.

Ransom walks past you to open another drawer, pulling out two straws as you finish stirring up the drinks. He takes the glass you offer him, placing a straw in it and yours before taking a sip. His eyebrows shoot up as he tries the milkshake. “This is – good.”

“Of course it is,” you respond.

Three shakes later and you’re giggling at Ransom telling you the story of last Thanksgiving with his family. “It was nothing compared to today though.” He looks over at you, the fireplace in front illuminating both your faces. “You were great – thank you.”

“That’s the third time you’ve said that,” you remark jokingly. “Is ‘thank you’ a new phrase for you?”

Watching him look at the fire almost reminiscently as you place your glass on the small table between you. His voice is barely audible when he responds, “What you did for me – that was new.”

“I can see that,” you reply quietly, knowing that growing up with his family couldn’t have been easy. “I should call it a night.”

“Straight up the stairs, end of the hall,” Ransom says nodding towards the staircase. You stand up slowly, feeling slightly lightheaded from the vodka as you head for the stairs. “Hey.” He calls and you stop, turning to look at him. “That mission – the classified one.” Glancing up at you with that sincerity that you’ve caught a glimpse of before, he continues. “It was Rogers, wasn’t it?”

You give him a small grin, “Night Ransom.”

He waits until you’re upstairs and the bedroom door closes before he pulls his phone from his pocket, opening the application with several saved recordings. The first one is listed:

Agent S. Wilson, Phone Interview

He slides the bar forward a few minutes with his finger before he presses play and Sam’s voice comes through the phone speaker.

‘She and Steve, that relationship was – complicated. They loved each other though, in their own way.’

‘How would you describe her?’ Ransom’s voice comes across the device.

‘She’s one of a kind. I’ve seen her defy direct orders to save a friend. She’s loyal – bossy – but she’ll do anything for those she cares about,’ Sam’s words sound thoughtful. ‘I’m proud to call her a friend.’

Ransom had gotten a glimpse today of what Wilson had been talking about. You were relentless in your defense of him, something no one has ever done. He was glad he had invited you along. He had originally wanted to show his parents he could date someone smart – driven – but you had proven so much more than that in the short time you’d spent with them. He had seen that fire in your eyes, which led to the nagging question in the back of his mind – why?

Was that confidence – passion – in your eyes when you spoke of him meant for him, or for the man he reminds you of?

[chocochar]

Bro Dabi dating a innocent rich reader gives me lady and the tramp vibes

(AN: Yoooooo I adore this request so much, I had fun writing it so I hope you like it lol

Part 2 | Part 3)

[(F/n)’s POV]

        The first time I’d met Dabi was about 2 years ago, before he was known as a villain.

        My family comes from money, with my father owning one of the biggest companies in Japan which my granddad created over 50 years ago. Being both well off and well known has its perks, but it also has its faults. For one thing we’ve had more than one attempt at kidnapping me or one of my cousins, but with the heroes around things never went overboard fortunately. We’ve kept clean slates, so no blackmail either.

         I grew up sheltered, I’ve actually been called naive or too innocent before… And I’ve always been surrounded by elites;  I’ve also never had the biggest interests in heroes. I would try to befriend anyone, I still do, which is somewhat how I came to know Dabi in the first place.

        2 years ago…

        “You little thief, I saw you take that woman’s wallet right out of her purse!!” An angry older man yelled, his sharp teeth bared and his clawed hand gripping the lose shirt of a young man who didn’t look much older than me. Being out shopping with some of my friends I jumped when this person was suddenly rushing over shouting things like,“Thief, thief! I saw you!!”

        Looking at the culprit I was surprised by his appearance though not appalled like my friends; His jet black hair looked rather fluffy and soft to the touch, his skin pale and stapled to what looked like burn marks. His body was on the leaner side, although he looked like he hadn’t eaten much for some time. His clothes had definitely seen better days, the jacket collar was all ripped up and his pants looked like he had grown out of them. One of his hands was stuffed in his pocket, an aloof expression on his face while the other hand held my (color) name brand wallet up. I could tell he was annoyed from the look in his eyes but judging by the way he glanced around I think he realized he was outnumbered.

        “Look, loudmouth, I was just giving it back to the little lady, it was falling out of her purse,” he told the man, and while I knew this was a lie I didn’t say anything; I didn’t try to argue or yell at him for attempting to steal from me, nor did I storm off after yanking my wallet out of his grip. I just stood there, admittedly not sure how to respond, I’d never been in this situation before. In reality, I sort of felt bad for this thief, my naive thoughts wondering if he was stealing because he needed food o-or he wanted better clothing, or maybe he just needed the money to need it. The older aggressive man snarled and shook him, causing the young man to drop my wallet which popped open.        “You lie, a thief and a liar!” He barked, accidentally kicking my wallet when he tried to push the thief down to the ground, but the raven haired man was clearly stronger than he looked.

        “Ugh, thieves like you are the worst,” one of my friends tsked, another pulling out her phone.

        “Don’t worry, scarface, we’ll listen to your reasons in court once the police show up,” she smirked, already typing in the number for the authorities.

        Something dangerous flashed in his beautiful cerulean eyes and I realized just how bad things could get, so grabbing her hand before she finished dialing I shook my head before turning and facing the thief. Walking up to to him I smiled softly and grabbed the wallet off the ground, taking out all the money I had in it and placing it all in his hand, the pile being at least ¥100,000. I can tell he’s puzzled like everyone else, the older gentleman letting him go, but putting my wallet back in my bag I smiled at him again, saying,“If you need it you can have it, I’m okay.”

        Turning I start to leave, my friends following with one asking,“Are you serious?! That punk was trying to take the whole thing and you’re just giving him a ton of cash?”

        “Yep, if he needs it than I’m willing to help him out,” I told her, glancing back at the scarred man; He’s staring after us, his expression hard to read but he folded the money and stuffed it into his pocket. I gave a small wave before leaving, the three of us going back to our shopping. I figured that was the end of it; I didn’t know if he actually needed the money but I didn’t consider anything else, because in my gut I had the feeling he was stealing for a reason, whether it be food or new clothes or a place to stay, I was willing to help him out.

        What I didn’t expect was a week later being robbed too.

         My friends and I needed some new dresses for a big party coming up to celebrate my cousin’s birthday and we’d found a small dress shop with beautiful choices, all ranging in prices and styles. Once we’d made our choices and bought them the 3 of us left, my friends heading to a cafe to get us something to drink while I sat on a bench and played on my phone.

        I happened to hear someone calling for help, and while not realizing it was a trap I’d wandered only a few steps into a nearby alley when I was immediately surrounded by unknown, scary looking men. My heart jumped and I felt fear fill me as I backed up against the wall; they had me at all sides, one chuckling,“Lookie here, boys, this one’s pretty cute.~”

        My purse was snagged from me by a big guy and he pulled out my wallet, going through it while I trembled.

        “She’s loaded too! Nice picking her out, Ori,” he laughed loudly.

        “P-Please, you guys can have all the money in there, everything, just please let me go!” I exclaimed but was met with more laughter and them closing in on me.

        “I don’t think so doll, not yet, we normally don’t get pretty chicks like you falling for our trap so we’re gonna have some-”

        Just as the one to my left went to grab me I kicked him between the legs and when he stumbled in pain I took the chance to run past him. The others chased me, ultimately cornering me again. I was panicking, having no idea what they were going to do; “Pl-Please, stop-“ they grabbed me going to tear off my shirt, but before they could do anything a familiar voice spoke up,"Trouble likes to follow you doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

        We all looked down the alley to see the thief from before, his appearance the same as that day but he did look like he’d at least had a meal. He lifted a hand and to all of our surprise it erupted in blue flames, the blaze making the dim alley flicker with light. While I was in complete awe at the sight, and finding it hard to look away from the devilish smirk on his lips, my attackers seemed less willing to stay as one mumbled,“Oh shit-!”

        Just as he prepared to blast his flames our way the muggers took off, my heart still thundering as I watched them run away. I slowly looked back at the thief, who I considered my savior this time, and he shook his head, chuckling while rubbing his neck.

        “How weak, acting big and tough and now they’re running off with their tails between their legs,” he commented, his half lidded gaze gliding over to me. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, although this time not out of fear. As he started approaching me I found it hard to look away from those pretty blue eyes and my face started to feel a little hot. I’ve had boyfriends before but this was the first time I’d ever felt so flustered by someone! “You okay, princess?” he asked, the nickname making me go pink and I fidgeted with my shirt as I nodded.

        “Yes, thank you! I-I have to admit I’m kinda surprised you showed up… Um…”

        “Call me Dabi,” he replied, his hands stuffed in his pockets and he tilted his head, his eyes racking over me. ‘Calm down heart!’ “Count it as repayment for the money you gave me.”

        “Dabi? That’s an interesting name,” I smiled, holding out my hand for him to shake. “I"m (F/n), it’s nice to put a name to a face.~” He stared at my hand a moment before pulling out one of his own and shaking it, his palms feeling rough and hot to the touch.

         Remembering my bag was back at the alley entrance I gasped and stepped around him hurrying to go make sure it’s still there, Dabi seeming to follow me. When I found it, my new dress, and my wallet gone I groaned, remembering the one guy I kicked hadn’t come after me like the rest. My scarred savior stepped up next to me and looked down at me, asking,“What? Lose something?”

        “Yes, but i-it’s okay, I’ll have my father handle it later,” I replied, rubbing my own neck before looking up at him. “I’d better go home then, next time we run into each other I’ll treat you for helping me, okay?” I told him, smiling softly. His face stayed aloof for the most part but I caught his brows lifting like he was slightly surprised. “Oh, do you have a phone number or something, I can try to call you about meeting up-” I just remembered my phone was in my bag. Lowering my head I let out a light laugh looking embarrassed and continued,“N-Nevermind, um, j-just make sure you’re easy to find okay?”

         I started to leave, looking back at him and adding,“Don’t forget, okay?”

        I felt my heart jump when he gave me a lazy grin, saying back,“As you wish, princess.”

[X][X][X]

        It’d been about a week after that incident, although those men and my stuff still hadn’t been found. My phone was taken care of at least, I got a new one, and my cards had been closed so they couldn’t be used, but I still wished there was some way to find my dress and wallet at least.

        I hung up my call with a friend and sat on my bed staring at the black screen in thought. Dabi was still on my mind, no matter how much I tried to think of something else my brain kept replaying the last two weeks. We barely knew each other past names, and he seemed like the type my family would tell me to stay away from, but I was pretty sure I’d grown a small crush on him. Grabbing one of my pillows I buried my face in it to hide my pink cheeks, repeating in my head,‘Don’t think about him, don’t think about him!’ It almost worked, until-

        “I figured you were a rich girl but didn’t expect you to actually live like a princess, dollface,” that familiar voice spoke up making me jump and look up surprised. There was Dabi, kneeling on my windowsill and looking around my room with a cocked brow. “What are you, an heiress or something?”

        “Wh-What are you doing here??” I asked, almost worried before I noticed him holding something; when he turned back to me he hopped in and held up my wallet, my purse and the bag with my dress in his other hand. My eyes went wide seeing everything, before looking back up at him.

        “Don’t freak out, I didn’t stalk you, I got your stuff back from those idiots and found your address on your ID,” he explained, walking over and handing my stuff to me. “I would’ve brought it through the front door earlier, but well I saw your place and decided I didn’t want to be arrested. Hope you don’t mind me sneaking in through your window, princess.”

        He gave that lazy smirk again watching me examine my dress and other items while he talked. I didn’t know what it was that spurred me but jumping off my bed I hug him around the middle; I immediately feel him stiffen up and take in a short breath, and I noticed how he smelt of smoke. It only lasted a few seconds before I realized what I was doing and pulled back, looking up at him flustered and taking a few steps back while apologizing,“I’m sorry, I, uh, was really excited! You got my stuff back, and I can now repay you so, uh-” I turned around and hid my face, my cheeks burning and red while my heart wouldn’t shut up. 'It was definitely more than just that, I was happy to see him again because I didn’t know if I would again, but I didn’t have to hug him!’

        He didn’t say anything, but I heard him walk over to my bed to go through the bag with my dress in it. Peeking through my fingers I watched him lift it up and look it over before he looked at me, again his eyes looking me over from head to toe. My heart wouldn’t shut up and I asked,“What are you doing?"        "Trying to picture you with this on,” He admitted, my expression turning puzzled. Before I could ask why he handed it to me and continued,“Here, go put it on.”

        I took it but was still very confused. “Huh??”

        He stepped over to the window and leaned on it, responding,“You said you wanted to treat me right? I’m not really interested in being treated out myself, but I do want to take a doll like you out for some fun.” My heart jumped when again he smirked and asked,“Or is this 'street dog’ not worth the princess’ time?~”

(AN: I hope you like it so far! I love this concept lol)

[vanchlo]

The Partner / Chapter Three, “Rebecca Ann”

*Not my gifs and ugh it was SO hard to find good ones, sigh* 

Word Count: 11.6k words /  Story Masterlist /  Read The Assistant /  Read on Wattpad /  Song will be at the end, so as not to give anything away ;) 

“She is led by love, the world moves for love . . it kneels before it in awe."

- Edward Walker, The Village 

“So, what happened in the story next?”

“Are you sure you can stay awake for another chapter, love?” I wheeze, fingers combing through the satiny loose curls that I push away from her eyes. The very pair that I’ve seen so many times in the mirror. “You’re getting tired, Bean. It’s been a long day for you with school and swim team practice.” 

“I know, but I can stay awake. It’s getting good.” 

“Pinky P?” I almost giggle, holding out my littlest finger that she hooks hers with. Without fail, I could still picture how tiny her fingers were the first time I saw them, and my how they’ve grown. I think it’d be safe to say somebody is going to have big hands, too. 

“Yeah, it is, but . . . ,” my words escape me momentarily. Distracted, I stop, hearing the sound of a cry from upstairs, wishing that he would walk into the room. That he would help me with this part, and the ones that follow.

“But, what?” 

I’d been called it every day for the last almost ten years, but it still was hard to get used to at times, especially now with the story I tell. I had a hard time sometimes believing how lucky I’d gotten, and she only reminds me as I watch her eyes lull at the feeling of my hand in her hair. Just like somebody I know. 

“But it gets sad, love, because you know, sometimes things have to get worse before they get better.” 

“Stop it, you sound like you’re making up rubbish rules, just like Daddy,” the beloved word falls from her rosebud lips, and we can’t contain our laughter. The imperfect perfections in her cheeks and the sing-song laughter that peels from her lips makes this all the more surreal for me, like I’m looking right at him. “Now, keep going, Mum. I want to hear more of your story.” 

/

It was never really an awkward silence with Harry, save for the few times after we had a row. No, it hadn’t been anything but comfortable since well, before we had started dating. Maybe even not long after I’d become his assistant, if you’re not counting that painful in between time. Today wasn’t one of those times, but sometimes I may have made it awkward when I couldn’t stop staring at him, just like the way I currently watch as his eyelashes flutter against his skin. 

“Skye and Asher?!” the voice says from the phone pressed to my ear. 

“Yep. I still can’t believe it.” 

“Well, I’ll be darned . . huh,” my dad concludes with a soft laugh. “I hope he knows how much trouble he’s in for.” 

“Me too. Skye was pissed with me at first for not introducing them sooner. As if I should’ve known she’d fall in love the second she saw him.” 

“That sounds like her,” he muses with nostalgia carried in his voice. A recent memory sits in my mind from the other day when Skye told me the very story that I’m retelling. The apparent love at first sight with Asher and their first date, a rushed love story at best compared to Harry and I’s. He griped about it, Harry, feeling bad for Asher not knowing what was going to hit him. He had his hands full, alright, both boys. “So, how are things with you and Harry then, Boops?”

“Good, really good,” the answer comes easily to me, yet in a hushed voice as I try not to speak too loudly. My next words pause when a furrow gathers between his two brows, easily remedied by the pad of my thumb. 

“Your trip went well?”

“Yeah, it was loads of fun seeing his family. I met a few more of them, and they’re all so alike. The cheesy sense of humor, love of board games, and they’re kind as can be,” memories bubble up with my words of our trip to Harry’s hometown close to a week ago. 

“Well, it was good to talk to you and catch up, love, but I have to get going to work. You too probably soon, huh?”

“Yeah, and you too, Dad. I miss you . . you’re sure you can’t come up soon for a day or something?” I ask, almost holding my breath, despite knowing it won’t help his answer to sound like the one I want. 

“Not sure, Ree, I’ll have to see how it’s going with the next build, we’re getting busy.” 

“Okay, I hope you can come up somehow . . Well, I’ll talk to you on Monday, Dad,” listening to his subsequent goodbye, I set down my phone, sighing. Shielding a hand over my forehead, I move my legs under the covers, feeling his warm pair. 

It wasn’t often that I’d be awake before Harry, because somehow he was always up early, even on the weekends. Not today, though. I for once had been up before him. It was nice, getting to enjoy him like this, especially considering the way he drove me up the wall yesterday. Silent, asleep Harry was far preferable to me right now. He also couldn’t protest the lazy attempts I made at styling his hair differently when he was asleep, considering he slept like a log. 

The colors had begun to change outside, and the shops were building their candy supplies in preparation for the scary holiday. Despite Fall settling around us, a golden tinge still clung to Harry’s skin. Underneath his golden necklace, at the point of his nose, and around his many tattoos. It still surprised me, the four numbers in my handwriting permanent above his heart. It had been filled with so many firsts, and hopefully a few lasts. 

Glancing at the clock, I found that our alarm still wouldn’t be going off for a good while. Albeit he couldn’t be more handsome when asleep and knowing what I’m about to do, I fight my way into his arms. His groan is instant and so is the smile I try to hide from my lips. 

“Mmm, Becks, ‘m sleepin,’” Harry whines against me, his body like jelly. His arms still find their way around me and so does his chin hooking over top of my head. 

“I just wanna cuddle you before work.” 

“Fine,” it’s a sighed answer in return, but I hear the defeat in his voice. The way sleep beckons for him, his soft snoring soon resuming. His chest is balmy under my cheek where I lay it, listening for the sound of his heart. Next to his laugh, it was my favorite sound. 

It seemed to be a recurring theme throughout today, stealing glances at Harry when he wasn’t noticing, like now as he flips through his menu.

“Are ya gonna ogle me, Becks, or are you gonna figure out what t’ order, love?” 

“I already decided.”

“Good, ‘cos so have I,” he announces, laying his menu down. It’s only seconds later that the server sees, and we’re ordering our breakfast. “Seems you and my gran have really hit it off.”

“Oh, you think so?”

“No, I know so. Saw it even. I haven’t seen her take t’ somebody like that befo,’ certainly not any other girlfriend of mine.”

“I really like her - Claire. She’s sweet and even though we’ve only met a few times, she’s so easy to talk to.”

“I know, I love that ‘bout her. You’d think she was my mum’s mum with how sweet tha two o’ them are. She’s been supportive ever since tha stuff started with my dad, always let me talk t’ her ‘bout it without judgement. It meant loads t’ me,” he divulges to me. I can’t help but nod along, and fold my hand into his in the middle of the table. 

“I bet so. That sounds like my gran Ann, she was my dad’s mum, but she was always there for me.” 

“I see where you get it from, love,” he smiles with a wink of his sunshine eye, lips curling from the rim of his mug of coffee. It still baffles me how he can drink it black, let alone ripping hot. 

God, the things those eyes do to me, those lips too. Okay, Becky, chill. Now is not the time. But, then there’s the outfit he’s wearing today and how it’s so him, and effortlessly handsome. It looks like something my granddad would wear - tan slacks, and a cream long sleeved shirt with chocolate brown stripes. Curls in a mess atop his head and parted in the middle, but somehow, it works. It had become my favorite hairstyle of his recently, but that would quickly change with whatever new one he came up with next. For once, it wasn’t Chelsea boots today or the occasional Vans, but instead saddle brown laced up Oxfords. See, how were the casual outfits so handsome? Harry’s outfits always work, and I wish I knew how. 

“Whatcha starin’ at, hmm? I keep findin’ you lookin’ at me this mornin,’ startin’ t’ wonder why.” 

“What, can I not admire my handsome boyfriend every now and then?” my question comes with a lift of my brow. Now, it’s my turn to look all inquisitive over my cup of coffee. 

“Now, I never said ya couldn’t do that, love,” Harry teases with a shit eating grin plastered to his face. 

It stuck to his lips as he began to read the paper over his coffee until our breakfast arrived. Even then, it remained. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” I titter, cutting my fork through the two layers of pancakes.

“Stop drenchin’ yer pancakes with syrup, yer not gonna taste ‘em. They’ll be all soggy,” he warns, feeding a strip of bacon past his bubblegum pink lips. 

“Stop telling me what to do with my pancakes.” 

“Watch it, li’l one, or else ‘m not gonna share me food with you,” Harry says, pointing his fork at me. It gleams with strips of maple syrup beading at the tines’ ends. My lips ready their rebuttal, but his eyebrows only inch higher as he cocks his head towards me, silently willing me to continue. “I know ya will, ‘s a given. You always ask t’ taste somethin’ off me plate, don’t even try t’ deny it, lovey.” 

It’s difficult to say the least, hiding my smirk and its accompanying giggle. Shaking my head, I sigh as I stab my fork at my pancakes, feeling his foot knock into mine underneath the table. It looked nothing close to Rafael’s here, but somehow, it brought me back to that night in the Italian restaurant. Our first one. The way his foot nudged at mine under the table, and the way his eyes gleamed with a smile. Sometimes, if I thought hard enough, I could feel the fluttering inside of me from the butterflies he still gave me. 

“What? Yer a li’l too quiet fer tha talkin’ t’ I jus’ gave you, bug. No witty comebacks? That’s a surprise and a relief all in one,” Harry jokes, dimples set into his cheeks. He had shaved them just a few days ago, but it looked like it had been longer. 

My lips are absent of any words. Instead, I busy them with the pillowy pancakes drenched in maple syrup. Looking down at my plate, I cut into the potatoes crisp on the exterior with cheese and flecks of pepper. Setting down my fork, I slowly pat on the bottom of the ketchup bottle. 

“Becks? Y’know I was only jokin,’ love.”

“I know, and we both know you’re going to share your lemon poppyseed muffin with me,” it’s my turn for the shit eating grin now. Lifting my gaze, I meet his. 

“I told you!” he begins with a shake of his head, pressing his fist to his overactive mouth. “Told ya t’ order yer own, love.” 

“Yeah, but you’ll share with me because you love me.” 

“I dunno if ‘d go as far t’ say that,” he shrugs. My scoff makes the smile tickle further at his cheeks, and it all but disappears when I pinch his thigh from under the table. “Woman, I swear t’ bloody God-.” 

“Swear what?” I pipe up, setting my chin in my hand as he chuckles away across from me. He suffices a response with a shake of his head, feeding a ripe strawberry past his lips. It doesn’t help that he locks eyes with me the second he does it, and lips slow as can be, at that. “You’re bad.” 

Harry offers a measly shrug in response, and what speaks volumes is the way he tugs the striped bag closer to him, holding our beloved muffin. Ignoring it, I dip a bite of potatoes into my puddle of ketchup, enjoying the hum of the cafe around us. Harry and I had been coming here for a while now- well, before we had started dating. He liked their food and turned me onto them, starting with getting him breakfast and his special muffin when I was his assistant. I don’t think he took me out to breakfast here until I had come back to work at his firm, but it was a nice treat every once in a while, even if it meant having to wake up earlier. 

“I talked to my dad this morning, and told him about Skye and Asher. He was surprised, to say the least. I wish he’d come up and visit one of these days, he’s always so busy.” 

“‘m sure he will when he’s not so busy, love, like when his new build ‘s over,” Harry muses, loudly flipping the page of his paper. Watching as he flattens it out, the bite of potatoes on its way to my mouth pauses. 

“How’d you know about his new build?”

“‘Cos I talk t’ him too. He rang me tha other day, and we spoke ‘bout um . . I dunno, footie and cooking,” he answers, nonchalantly. Nodding, I shake a little more salt onto my potatoes, trying to will Harry to meet my eyes. 

“Maybe he’ll come up if you ask, or if it’s to hang out with you.” 

“Oh, hush, you. He’ll come when he has tha time, love, y’know that. Stop bein’ a pout,” he says, folding his paper back up into a messy square. My head shakes when he holds it out to me, instead setting it to the side before he picks up his coffee. 

A wheezy laugh drops from his lips as he shakes his head at me, “Fine, here, Ms. Pouty. I must love you a whole lot t’ share me muffin,” Harry sighs, reaching into the bag and soon splitting it in half, handing me a chunk.

“Thank you . . love you,” it comes with a wink that he dismisses with a roll of his eyes.

“I know,” he huffs, breaking off a morsel of the dense bread. His eyes twinkle with mischief when I nudge my foot against his leg underneath the table. “Ditto, bug, always love you back too.”

/

I tried to find the words but they wouldn’t come. They couldn’t. Huffing, a hand dives into my hair as I stare back at the screen. It’s a welcomed respite when my wrist sings with a notification. Pushing back my sleeve, it reads Team Meeting at 2pm. I tap my palm against the screen to silence it before standing from my desk.

“Don’t look so sad to see me,” a voice teases. Lifting my eyes, I find Simon gliding down the hall towards me. The lawyer life suited him well, and so did his new job at the firm. He certainly had a flare for the suits, sporting a maroon number today. He seemed to be liking it and Harry never had a bad thing to say about him.

“Hi, Si.”

“Something the matter, Big B?” he pries, bumping his shoulder against mine as we turn into the east conference room where a few bodies congregate.

“No, just stuck on writing this deposition, so this will be a good break.”

“You mean a boring break,” Simon jokes, passing me an empty mug. 

“Hey, I can’t be caught saying that around here,” I say, sarcasm laced in my hushed voice.

“Oh, yeah. We can’t have the boss’ girlfriend be heard saying his speeches were boring,” his animated lilt tickles a happiness at my lips. A laugh passes between us as steam from the hot coffee wafts across my face. 

“What’s this I hear ‘bout boring? Ya aren’t talkin’ ‘bout yer bosses, now are you?” somebody pipes up. Looking over my shoulder, I’m awarded with the sight of Harry grinning far too proudly at his own joke. He embellishes it with a quick wink to me and a hand pressed into the small of my back.

“Oh, me calling you boring? Never in a million years,” Si cracks. I savor the sound of their loud laughs whilst pouring creamer and sugar into mine. Setting it down on the table we stand at, I pick up another mug, filling this one to the top with the scalding coffee.

“Thank you, my love,” my boyfriend smiles when I hand him the hot coffee. “Better go find a seat, tha two o’ you are late, per usual,” he quips, waving a circle into my back before leaving.

“Yeah right, like we’re late,” Si scoffs, turning to walk away. The rest of the gang had joined us by now, and I find an empty seat next to Rose towards the back. 

I had come up with my own little rule at these things. It started with never sitting up front by Harry where he and Myles spoke. Certainly, I never sat in the back straight across from him where his eyes would gravitate. They both were bad ideas, and I’d quickly found them out from a past mistake or two. 

Today, Myles started us off. There was something about a required employee training. Of course, there was the annual Halloween party coming up later this month, a charity function in the works, and working a table at an upcoming uni job fair. Harry and I may or may not be going as a certain Spice Girls couple, wink wink. 

Slowly, like always, it grew to be boring. That’s when the texts started, despite the number of times Harry groaned about me distracting him on previous occasions. I quickly found it near impossible to not give him the dirtiest of looks across the room. It didn’t help that we were on near opposite sides, and he was facing Myles, pretending to pay attention. Per usual.

what should we do 2night for dinner? was thinkin i could do u 2 start with 

He did a terrible job of wicking the smirk from his lips when I looked at him next. Kneading at his bottom lip hardly hid it, and drinking my coffee didn’t save me either.

You’re bad, is all I text back, making it look as if I’m taking notes on my laptop. I just hope nobody else can see, but I try to make sure of that.

oh i could be loads of things if u let me love. like in between ur legs 2night or if ur good enough some time b4 we go home 

He didn’t even need to add a winky face or a saucy emoji. This man and his way with words, I swear it’ll be the death of me. He will, one way or the other. Hiding my laugh with a cough, I bring my mug back to my lips, nearly choking when Harry’s gaze slinks over to mine. 

“You okay?” Si whispers.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer, holding eye contact with Harry. Nobody else might notice it, but I see it. The way one of his dimples plays hide and seek with me on his cheek, accompanying his sly lips. A pair that I’m itching to have on me, here and now. Well, in fifteen minutes or so. 

alright becks? choking already thinkin bout me big dick bein in ur mouth?

Stop, we’re in a meeting, Harry. Your meeting 

doesn’t stop me love so don’t let it stop u now 

God, you’re unbelievable, Harry

so are those lips of urs bug. cant wait 2 have those pretty things round me cock 2day. up 2 u if ya want me sooner or later 

Trying to mask my long sigh, I press the cover of my laptop shut. It’s even harder to resist sneaking a look at Harry. He is so full of shit, faking a glance around the room just to make brief eye contact with me. Of course, while he licks his lips. My eyebrows lift only in the slightest and he manages a shrug at me whilst leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head like the cocky boss he is. 

Rose’s spiel that was actually holding my attention is interrupted when my wrist vibrates ten minutes later. I’m already beginning to roll my eyes when I lift it, wondering what Harry has said now. But, it’s not him. It’s who I least expected out of anyone. 

Hi, bunny. I’m in London for a few days . . . I want to see you. Could we get coffee or lunch? xo 

The rest of Rose’s speech goes absolutely over my head. If you asked me what it was about, I couldn’t tell you, despite the fact that I heard it. But no, I didn’t. Not really. Nor did I hear Simon’s subsequent jokes or when Rose called on me to share progress on our case. I couldn’t remember what, just the way everybody looked at me, like the kid in class caught not paying attention. It didn’t help seeing the worry etched onto Harry’s face, then and now, as I sit in the car next to him. 

Another one had come by now, and still, I had no idea what to say or do.

“Did ya hear what I said, ‘bout dinner?” 

Lifting my gaze, I see Harry’s patient one waiting for me. 

“No, sorry. What’d you say?”

Waiting for the light to turn, his hand had folded mine into his firmly. Delicate circles were left on my skin by his thumb. “You alright t’day, Becks?”  

“Fine. Did you want to get takeaway for dinner, or just warm up leftovers?” 

“F’get ‘bout dinner fer a second, Becks, and please tell me what’s been botherin’ you t’day. We agreed on no mo’ lies, bug, and I know yer not fine. I can tell,” his objection comes in a gentle murmur, accentuated by his thumb pressing against mine. 

“I’m sorry,” it’s sighed, almost lost in the Arctic Monkeys song filling the car, until Harry turns it off. “My mum texted me today, during our team meeting.” 

The ‘oh’ that comes from him is teeming with realization and a certain weight to it. All I can think of to do in response is to nod. I busy myself with sliding his new opal ring off his left forefinger. 

“‘s okay, bug, I understand . . ‘m sorry, too. So, what’d her text say?”

The white glow from the touchscreen display in Harry’s Rover illuminates the reflective specks in the stone. They cover the rainbow, spanning from purple, white, pink, and a mint green. Harry had joked when he’d gotten it that I was probably going to steal it from him more often than not, knowing how I loved opals. He was right, and that was a few months ago. I had worn it until now on my thumb when he belatedly stole it back from me. It fit him better, anyways. 

“That she’s in London, and she wants to get together,” my voice is childlike, shy and lacking volume. Harry begins to speak, until I stop him, with my voice and my subsequent words. “Then, when I didn’t respond that I’m invited to lunch with her and Robbie tomorrow afternoon at some restaurant Robbie likes.” 

“Oh,” he hums, lips stilling when he looks over his shoulder before making a turn. “Did you text her back yet?”

“No. I don’t want to go, or talk to her. I dunno why she does this, just pop up out of the blue as if she hasn’t spoken to me in almost two years . . since my accident.” 

“You don’t hafta go, Becks. There’s nothin’ makin’ you go. Yer an adult and you make yer own decisions, bug. You don’t owe her anythin.’” 

“I know, but that doesn’t stop her from the guilt trips. I don’t even remember unblocking her number . . she must have gotten a new one. But, I’m afraid, Harry,” I confess, threading the ring back onto his finger riddled with fine dark hairs. He allows me, having gotten used to it by now, and the way that I trace the veins poking out of his skin. 

“Of what, babe? ‘s not like she can- well, I guess she could.” 

I try to swallow past the nerves, and the unsaid words, but it’s difficult, to say the last. “Yeah, she could. It’s not very hard to Google your name and find the address of your firm. She must know by now that I work for you again.”

“Bug, even if she came t’ tha firm, she has t’ get past Amelia first, and that’s not gonna happen. She’d ring you and say who’s in tha lobby waitin’ fer you, you could easily turn her away, if anythin’.” 

“You’re right.” 

“‘m always right,” he coos, lifting a brow at me goofily when his piercing eyes meet mine. The curl to his lips doesn’t linger, and they soon flatten out with understanding and severity. “It’ll be okay, Becks. Do what feels right. Text her back and say no, or don’t talk t’ her at all. She doesn’t deserve yer time o’ day afta what she’s put you thru.’ Dunno how people like that can’t understand ya don’t jus’ get t’ pop in and out o’ yer kid’s life,” it’s a muttering as his head shakes back and forth. The whirring sound of the garage door opening before us fills the empty space of the car. 

Harry knew. He knew all about it with the disappearing parent act, the parent who was preferable when they were absent. Yet, his Dad had popped back into his life, but this time he hadn’t left. Sometimes, I was a tad bit jealous, if I were honest. Not with him, though, but Skye sniffed it out on me once. I had wished a thousand times over since I was little that my mum was different, that she was a normal mum, and a better one. It never came true that wish, but yet at 28, I still found myself making it without trying. Lasting only moments, I still felt sour with guilt at times for the thought, despite being overjoyed for Harry about the recent development. 

“Have you spoken to your dad lately?” I decide to say, draping my work bag over my shoulder. 

“Ya, um . . yest’day, I think it was. He called me on my way back from tha courts. He’s doin’ a job in Edinburgh but wants t’ get together with us when he’s back. I don’t rememba him bein’ a good cook, but he wants t’ have us over fer dinner at his.” 

“That sounds nice. Would you like that?” 

The house is quiet and dark when we step inside. The typical one word male response comes as I set my shoes next to his on the mat, letting him take my light coat. 

“Shit, kinda forgot ‘bout takeaway. Are leftovers fine, bug?” 

“Yeah, I don’t care,” my answer comes. Harry’s humming fills my ears, and although I love it, my attention is held elsewhere. 

“Let’s wait on dinner,” he announces, but not until his arms come around my middle do I start to pay attention. The two waiting texts before me disappear when Harry gently takes my phone away, setting it down on the kitchen island. “I think I have an idea o’ how I could take yer mind off o’ things.” 

I can’t resist, the way my lips split into a smile. The containers of Harry’s famous stir fry are forgotten on the counter when I feel the first kiss he plants to my neck. 

“Oh, really, Mr. Styles, what ever could that be?” it comes out in a giggle, because all control I thought I had is lost with my words. He looks close to one when I turn around in his arms, finding his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Anythin’ ya want, bug, anythin’ at all.” 

“A baby?” I tease, reveling in the sight of his eyes widening. Now, the laugh spills from his decadent, cherry lips. 

“Careful there, Becks, yer gettin’ ahead o’ yerself. Y’know my stipulations on that one,” he jokes, wagging a finger at me. The soft light above the granite top island lends a glow to his face, not that he’d ever need another one, considering the sunshine he holds. I wish I could say the same thing for me, but he whisks it away with those very words. “Y’know ‘ll give you a baby one day, all tha babies you want. But, fer now, what’ll make my bug happiest?” 

My answer doesn’t come in words or a look- well, I may let one go on accident. It’s hard not to while his eyes bore into mine, my hands making their way up his chest underneath his button down. “Will you come and take a bath with me?”

“Certainly. Rough day, bug?” I only nod my head, feeling the knot in my throat when I try to swallow, unable to stop remembering them all. “Wanna talk ‘bout it?”

My head going from side to side suffices for words, and so does the way I drop my head to his chest. His solid arms come around me, smoothing my hair back with gentle strokes. 

“Sounds like a bath bomb and back massage kinda night.” 

“Thank you,” is all I say, because I know that he knows, without him having to say it. 

“‘Course, my love, jus’ wanna make you happy.” 

Closing my eyes, I try to forget the things that had piled up the last week, and the questions I wish I could ask him, but I’m not sure how. 

I don’t know where it had started, or even when, really. As Harry dips his hand under the bathwater to get it just right, they come floating back to me. The way he had been distant, and yet not, but one outweighed the other. 

“C’mere, my girl,” he coos, inching a finger back and forth, beckoning me over to him. Obliging, the floor is ice cold against my bare feet, but his hands deposit a warmth on my skin I’ve missed. “Can I help you get undressed, honeybug?”

Nodding, I absentmindedly pick a spot on the wall to stare at. It was an imperfection at best, a white divot amongst the soft gray. From one of Harry’s drunken nights nearing a year ago, it appeared one morning and he still hadn’t gotten it fixed. It went unnoticed for lengths at a time, but I wish I could say the same for the things I picked up on this week. The way he’d immediately hang up on a phone call when I entered the room, at work or home. Speaking of his phone, he wouldn’t let me use it when I’d happen to lose mine and needed to look something up, not even to take a picture. Instead, he’d make up some excuse about expecting a call, or that it was about to die, despite seeing his battery was at least half full. It confused me, to say the least, but that only shrank in comparison when it came to the apparent work dinner I wasn’t invited to the other night. Then, there was the entire absence of talking about ring shopping, as if it had never existed. I’d ask if we could go and look at this shop, and he’d agree to it but no more would be said. Or, I’d show him a ring I saw online and he’d have nothing more to say than a one word response. It didn’t help that Skye seemed too busy for me as well, cancelling our weekly dinner to hang out with Asher instead, as if we couldn’t have all hung out together. I could have used one of her pep talks, or so I thought until I mentioned my predicament to her, and she brushed it off, telling me it was probably nothing. That only drove me further up the Worry Wall, now wondering if I was making something out of nothing. 

/

“Alright, bubs?” 

She wasn’t alright, and I could tell. It was clear as day, beginning with the far away look in her eye. It only stuck as I lifted her sweater dress over her head, and peeled her black jeggings from her legs. 

“Pinky P?” she ignored our inside joke and got into the tub first. As I unbuttoned my shirt, I watched her as she rested her chin on her knees that hugged her chest. I wondered if she knew, and if I had been too distant, trying to hide it from her. The last thing I would ever want to do in the world is to hurt her. I’m afraid that while trying to do the most important thing in my life, I’ve hurt her in the process. 

“Becks, wanna go out t’ dinner t’gether on Friday? I heard ‘bout this really great place, I think we’d like it,” she hums an audible confirmation, it’s barely there, whilst holding the raspberry colored bath bomb in her hand. “‘m gonna go and warm up dinner and we can eat it in tha bath. That sound good t’ you, bub?”

“Sure,” she says, again. She usually loves my stir fry, and when she doesn’t request her classic big glass of milk with it to keep the spicyness in check, I know she’s not herself. 

Shit, what have I done? 

I find her eyes have lulled closed after I set my empty dinner plate on the floor on top of hers. “C’mere, li’l one,” I hum, waving my fingers in and out towards her. She groans a denial, content to rest her head on her knees still. I don’t take no for an answer, hooking my hands in the crease of her legs. “Becks baby.” 

Huffing, she lifts her pretty head and stuns me with those eyes. A tiredness sits in them, something more than exhaustion from getting up at six am today. Flashing my award winning smile at her, she at last uncurls herself and wades through the bathwater until I pull her onto my lap. 

Now, the hot water isn’t the only thing keeping me warm when she curls up against my chest. Water collects at the ends of her hair, making it hard to comb my fingers through, but only at first. Peering down at her, I watch as her bare chest rises and falls with breaths, something I once was so afraid of not seeing. To never get to see again. 

I thank my lucky stars on the daily for still being blessed with this sight. Her temple is damp with beads of sweat and water mixed together, but I can still smell it there, the orange blossoms and vanilla. Her smell, one I could inhale forever. 

“‘m sorry ‘ve been so busy lately, I know ‘ve been a bit distant,” it begins as a mumble on my lips, and there’s no stopping it in time. “Know you’ve noticed it too, and that ‘s upset ya.” 

“Is something wrong? Did I-,” her question is spoken gingerly, fear in her voice tinged with self-consciousness. 

“No, ‘course not, bug. Nothing’s tha matter, and you didn’t do anythin’ wrong, please don’t think you did. ‘ve jus’ been busy with a project at work, but I promise it’ll be finished soon,” the thought itself brought to life by my voice teases my lips with a smile, knowing the finish line that I approach. At last. 

“Okay . . thanks, Harry.” 

“Welcome, bubs,” I murmur, exhaling against her forehead. Her forehead is balmy where I rest my lips, letting my eyes shut too, listening to nothing but the sound of her breathing. After all of this time, I still felt a chill in my bones when my thoughts were yanked to her accident. Now, it only makes me feel as if my words didn’t do enough to reassure her, but I wasn’t sure what more I could do without giving it away. No, I couldn’t do that. “I love you so much, Becks, can’t wait t’ marry you one day.” 

“I love you too, Harry,” it’s an almost snigger from her decadent lips. I wait for more, but it doesn’t come, not until she stirs in my arms. 

“What d’ya think yer doin’?” it’s my turn to spill a giggle, watching her move in my arms until she’s facing me. More importantly, straddling my lap and running a hand through my hair. 

Her answers came in a simple shrug of her shoulders, but the tilt to her lips spoke volumes more. My name for her sounds from my lips as a tut, but she quickly whisks it away with her own on mine. The rippling of the bath water around us is the only sound besides the way our lips move together. Her ass is spongy and slick beneath my naked fingers, and her squeal against my lips is heaven and everything more. 

“Can I still take you up on that offer?” her words graze my mouth, craving me to reach forward and return them to mine. 

“What offer, bug?” I ask under hooded eyes, mine boring into hers the color of bottomless oceans. 

It was more than music to my ears, it was everything good stitched together by her lips, “To take my mind off things . . and yours, in the process.” 

“Certainly,” I say, beginning to move until her hands push against my chest. “Use yer words.” 

“Let me.” 

It’s a giggled reply at best, because as she adjusts herself on top of me, any possibility of speaking soon wanes. “Yer bloody confusin,’ y’know that, Becks?” 

“Is this confusing to you, Harry?” she murmurs with a flick of her expressive brows. It’s not her words, but something else that knocks some air out of me. Nearly impossible to notice, her composure has grown since she’s become a lawyer, especially as she starts to rub her crotch against my hardening member. 

“Not at all, baby, jus’ tell me what you need me t’ do.” 

“Kiss me,” she answers, fervor shining in her voice. I don’t even get to laugh before she steals it from me with her lips, bringing a groan from them next when she takes my dick in her hand. 

/

A quiet battle rages inside of me, not wanting her to leave, but at the same time, I need her to. There’s never a day where she doesn’t look beautiful, and on days when she has court she tries even more. She asked me once when I find her the most beautiful, and her first guess was these days when she argued her case, but I said no. It brought her eyebrows together in confusion, pinching her oval face in the cutest of ways. No, I found her the most beautiful in the first light of the morning, in the way sleep clung to every bit of her, making her slower and more . . her. It could be found in the lighty giggles that she painted the air with, the way her nose scrunched together in the middle of one. Her hair swept in different places, and how she clung to me like my own personal koala. If koalas were simultaneously personal heaters. Becks was most beautiful in the morning, because in those first few minutes of waking up, I was reminded anew that she chose to be mine. A dream of mine I doubted over and over about the possibility of. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she didn’t need makeup to make her beautiful, but her eyelashes longer from mascara fluttered against her skin with the question. Her dark chocolate eyebrows she swept a pencil over every morning hugged the pale skin between them. 

“Oh,” it plummets from my lips with astonishment, and a clearing of my throat. The left corner of her mouth greets her cheek when the gesture clicks with her. God, sometimes she can still take my breath away by just the sight of her, even several years later. “Ya still manage t’ make me weak in tha knees, y’know that? I dunno how you do it, bug,” I reply with a clicking of my tongue, edging towards her. A shade of coral arrives in her cheeks with my words and proximity, only growing darker when I wrap my arms around her from behind. 

“So do you, you know.” 

“Mmm, thought so, thanks fer tha confirmation, love,” it’s a reply joined by my nose against her temple. Her flighty laugh graces my ears once more, and I’m smiling without knowing it. God, I can’t wait to hear that laugh for the rest of my life. Which reminds me. “You and Rose should get goin’, love, if ya want t’ get t’ tha courts early. Lunch traffic may be bad.” 

“Why are you trying to get rid of me, Harry?”

“‘m not, jus’ lookin’ out fer you, ‘s all,” I choose to say, glad she can’t see the way that I check my watch, seeing the texts waiting on my screen. Too similar to how they’re waiting. 

“Okay, Dad. I’ll see you later then, for dinner tonight?” Suddenly, I’m looking into her eyes, the very color I hope our kids have. I know our kids will have them, they’ll be so lucky.

“‘ll see you afta yer done, bug. Good luck on yer case, I know you’ll smash it.” 

“Thanks,” it’s spoken with warmth, one that I know I’ll miss despite wanting her to go. Needing her to go. “Still picking me up after?”

“‘Course, my love. We can’t f’get dinner t’night.” 

“I’m excited. Rose said she likes Isabelle’s,” she comments, wasting her

time by playing with the opal ring on my hand. Mine that she’d stolen for a good while, and I finally took back. “They have really good desserts and steaks.” 

“‘ve heard that too. Can’t wait t’ try some with you t’night,” it comes out with a smile, but I’m never sure that I could ever match hers. It had gotten better over the last few days, I think I was finding a balance between keeping it but not keeping her out. Her lips taste of cinnamon roll coffee creamer and cherry chapstick when I peck her, just how she always does. I could do with kisses tasting like that forever and ever. “Bye, bug. You girls drive safe now.”

“We will. Bye, have a good day.” 

“See ya. Stop putzing, and get goin,’ li’l one,” I titter, savoring the taken aback look on her face when I slap her ass. The sound of her’s fills my ears as I join her in the hallway, watching her walk away and get onto the lift. 

I give it a few more moments, imagining the space placed between us,  hoping she won’t be returning for something she had forgotten. Now, that would be bad. Only once I feel confident, do my feet wake up and I start on my way, contradicted by the way my heart gallops like a horse right out of the gates. 

“Here we go, Harry. One o’ tha biggest days o’ yer lives, jus’ on tha horizon,” I mumble aloud to me and only him, stopping when I reach the door. Already, I can hear their voices from this side, but before I can open it, I fill my lungs with an impatient breath. 

Their sounds slowly fall when I make my entrance, feeling as I’m still running that race inside of my chest, knowing I’m nowhere near the finish line. Perhaps, I’m just a bit closer. When each of their faces lifts to mine, the faces of our families, it imbues me with a shattering sense of reality meeting dreams. One I’ve had held inside of me for so long now. 

“Alright, so ‘bout t’night then. You lot ready t’ help me with this or what?”

/

I thought I knew what I was doing, but when I turned onto our street, I quickly found that I had no idea at all. I was afraid she could feel the clamminess of my hand, or that that feeling of hers would give it away all entirely. The dinner had gone as perfectly as it could’ve, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I only hoped that the next part would, because it was the most important one of all. Arguably, this would be the most important case of my life that I needed to win. A whirring of the garage door gave a background to my thoughts as I tap at my Apple watch, heaving a sigh when I see the text. 

We’re all ready when you are! 

/

Pulling my coat around me tighter, I follow Harry through the garage and into the house. He had promised more chocolate once we had gotten home from dinner. Although it sounded wonderful, I wasn’t sure how I could fit any more in my stomach after the lavish meal we had just stuffed ourselves with. I still couldn’t figure out why he had gone out of his way to have dinner together at one of the most expensive places in town, Isabelle’s. 

I barely get the chance to shrug off my coat when I feel him tug on my hand. His name escapes my lips in a giggle, similar to the one that gleams in his eyes. 

“C’mon, bug, there’s somethin’ I wanna show you,” Harry insists, waiting for me to join him. Leaving the dark downstairs, I follow him up the flight of wooden steps. 

“What’s that?”

“Yer supposed t’ be able t’ see Jupiter t’night in tha night sky. I know ‘s yer favourite one, bug,” I find myself nodding along with his words. Still, I’m unable to tear myself away from the warm gray suit he donned for tonight, the one that started it all for us. 

“Okay, but I really need the loo first.” 

“‘Kay, take yer time. ‘ll try t’ see if I can find it fer us then,” the words leave my lips with a wobbliness to them. If that feeling of her’s was piqued or if she knew something, Becks didn’t let on. All she did was flash me a funny smile before rushing into the bathroom, hardly closing the door. 

No matter the lengths I go to, I can’t seem to breath in long enough. It all was descending upon me, as I peeked out at the back garden and felt a warmth bubbling inside of me and onto my lips. The effervescent feeling carried through in my limbs as I stepped onto the balcony, pressing record before smoothing down my hair and my suit. 

I felt like if it were ever going to happen, my heart would certainly leap from my chest tonight. Just in a matter of moments, for her. Because of her. 

/

“Did you find it, Harry?” I wonder aloud, stepping through the doorway of the bathroom, returning to our bedroom. 

“Y-Ya,” from the balcony of our bedroom, he responds. Was that a stammer, I just heard? “C’mere, bug, lemme show you.” 

“Okay,” my answer comes, and so does a thought when I glance Harry’s phone propped up on our bed with the camera pointing at me. Funny that it landed that way, I wonder when he’s going to break it from tossing it onto our bed so many times, I think quietly to myself. 

The midnight indigo sky beckoned me forth, as did Harry who looked at me over his shoulder. A soft glow from the balcony light fell over us as I stopped at the railing beside him, peering up at the night sky. 

“Alright,” he sighs, stretching out his arm to point a ringed finger at the expanse of darkness. “Ya see that bright light over on tha left hand side o’ tha sky? There it ‘s, that’s Jupiter fer ya. Told ya I knew a thing or two ‘bout space, Becks.” 

“Wow, that’s amazing,” it comes out in a drawn out breath, astonishment dripping from my words. Even if it was just a twinkling light in the night sky, it was that seven letter word beginning with an A. 

A tingly warmth builds on my cheek, and looking to my right, I find Harry smiling at me. For a second, I think I see a wetness collecting in his eyes, but it’s gone when I blink. 

“What?”

My question sits in the air, unanswered by him while he brushes his thumb across my cheek. 

“Yer amazin,’ Becks . . prettier than any star in any sky, my love,” his words are spaced out in between breaths, and his adam’s apple bobs in his throat, punctuating the end of his words. The corners of my lips lift into a smile, something he can never fail to do, but it was only one out of many. 

“Thank you, Harry,” I murmur softly, stepping forward to press a kiss to his cheek. In the movement, something catches my eye. The feeling of his prickly cheek against my lips is but a memory as my gaze follows through with its curiosity. “Wait, what’s-.” 

My lips pause and so does the question on my lips when I peer down at our back garden. The trees and bushes are lit up all over by candlelight. A breath gets caught in my throat as the image before me comes together, candles organized with their flames spelling two words. My hand instantly flies to my mouth as my breath escapes me, tears taking their place. 

They read, MARRY ME?

I didn’t hear it or let alone see it, the way he had sunk down onto one knee, but when I turn to face Harry, the first one falls. Down my cheek, and then his. His trademark wheeze paints the air as his sages overflow with tears. Swallowing, I taste the briny ones on my lips as an image I’d dreamt of and doubted fills my eyes. It’s unmistakable, the way his knee shakes, the other bent underneath him as the light catches the gleaming diamond ring held in his hand. 

“H-Harry,” it’s shaky and adorned with tears, but the sight before me becomes clearer when I blink. “Yes, of course, yes!” I exclaim, and he’s laughing deeply. 

“I haven’t even said anythin’ yet, bug,” he chuckles loudly with a shake of his head. “C’mere you, get over here.” Obliging, my legs nudge me over to him where he takes my hand in his. 

“Bloody hell, woman, I memorized this whole speech. Least let me try and say it,” the obnoxious and loud laugh that spills from his lips could never fail to be music to my ears. He blows out a breath from his lips rounded into an O, and we both shed apprehensive giggles. “Have I ever told you all o’ tha things I love most ‘bout you, Becks? I could write a book ‘bout ‘em all, but they start with how kind you always are. Reckon it was tha first thing I noticed ‘bout you after those killer eyes o’ yers on tha day we met. You’ve never stopped being kind t’ me, even when I didn’t deserve it, or when others didn’t. That and how bloody unrelenting you are were tha first things that struck me ‘bout you when you were my assistant, Becks. I never would’ve thought we’d get t’ where we are t’day seein’ where we started, but I could never thank you enough fer not givin’ up on me, Becks . . on us. God, ‘m ramblin’ now, ‘m sorry,” there it is again, his signature wheeze. A similar sound comes from me as we take a breather to wipe at our eyes. The only sound surrounding us is the galloping of my heart, probably his too, and my favorite sound falling from his lips. 

“It’s okay, keep going. You’re doing great,” I urge him in a soft whisper, hoping my wink is half as good as his when he smiles that sunshine up at me. He nods once, squeezing my hand firmly before going back to tracing nervous circles onto my knuckles. 

“Yer humor too, it may be cheesy sometimes, and not as funny as mine,” no, my wink could never be good as the one he gives me now. Effortlessly cute. “But I love it, and so many mo’ things ‘bout you, Rebecca Ann. Tha way you take care o’ me. I know ‘ve said it befo’ but yer so good t’ me with yer cookin’, puttin’ up with my cold feet in bed and tha way I hog tha covers, workin’ t’gether at me firm which I know presents ‘s own set o’ challenges, and how you’ve made me into a better person ev’ry day since I met you. Ya get on me nerves and yer stubborn as a bloody bull, but I can’t imagine spendin’ tha rest o’ me life with anybody but you. ‘s been that way fer years now, love, and I can’t go another day without you knowin’ it.” 

“I do, Harry,” it’s a mere whisper, but his smile soaks it all up, and so does mine for his sunshine. 

“Hey, what’d I say ‘bout you gettin’ ahead o’ yerself here?” his lips couldn’t lift higher and his sunshine couldn’t be brighter. Our heads shake with songs of laughter, my very favorite tune in the entire world. “Yer me favourite thing in this entire world, bug, and I want t’ spend tha rest o’ me life showin’ you that ev’ry day. I wanna have so many babies with you, even a li’l boy named Lennon perhaps, and a li’l girl named Luna, like we’ve said . . I want t’ argue cases with you fer tha rest o’ me career, ‘cos yer me favourite lawyer. Yer my partner, bug, and I always want t’ have you there at my side, Becks . . There’s so much mo’ I could say t’ you, tellin’ you how I love you, but I know I have tha rest o’ me life t’ do it. So, Rebecca Ann Holte-,” he pauses with a frog in his throat, shaking his head. A knot tightens in mine as I watch him press his face into the crook of his arm, crying quietly with a smile. Pulling away after a moment, he exhales and looks to me with a wet smile dripping with sunshine.

“Harry,” I sigh, tears tightening around my words. 

Clearing his throat, he continues, “What d’ya say t’ changin’ that last name o’ yers t’ Styles fer me? Will you marry me, Becks?”

“There’s nothing I’d want more, Harry, than to spend the rest of my life with you,” they’re coated in tears, soon mixing with his when I collapse into his arms, my lips pressed against his. I feel the nervousness spill at last from his lips when they touch the crown of my head, laying kisses there in layers as we shed happy tears. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. Yer ev’rythin’ ‘ve ever wanted, Becks,” Harry whispers there, pressing me firmly against his front. The light catches the well of tears in his eyes when I belatedly pull away, bringing my hand to his cheek. “My fiancee.” 

“Fiancee . . I like the sound of that,” I murmur, tracing the outline of his bottom lip. He nods with my words, just as a tear falls into the divot in his cheek. 

“Y’know what I like tha sound of?” his voice is gentle and just above a whisper that I answer with my head cocked to the side. “Rebecca Styles. Becky Styles.” 

It couldn’t feel sweeter, the sound that coasts off my lips, him soon replicating it. Even sweeter it tastes when I touch my lips to his, finding that same word in his smiling eyes. Following them, they fall to the mahogany colored wooden box he clutches in his hand. 

“Oh, ya, can’t forget ‘bout this now. ‘s very important,” Harry says, opening the box once again, and I’m brought to tears by the sight of it. 

“Harry, is that-,” I begin, but tears take hold of my voice prematurely, my hand over my mouth in disbelief. Sniffling, his ring laden hand dives into my hair, knowing how it calms me. “H-Her ring?”

Flicking my eyes to his, he hums a reply before his lips part, “Ya, ‘s yer Grandma Ann’s, Becks.” his neck smells of vanilla and sandalwood when I find myself in his arms again, spewing ugly tears onto his shoulder. “Been on tha phone with yer dad almost ev’ry day fer tha last two weeeks talkin’ ‘bout it, ‘bout doin’ this.” 

Hiccups rack my chest when I pull away, eyes gravitating towards the glinting piece of jewelry tucked away into his large hand. “I-I see why you were being so sneaky lately,” I muster, swiping under my eyes. Despite the breaths I try to shove down my lungs, I can’t stop shaking. 

“Ya, ‘m sorry ‘bout that. I thought somethin’ was up with you, figured you’d noticed. Didn’t mean t’ keep you out, Becks, but couldn’t have you findin’ out and spoilin’ all tha fun I had planned fer you,” he murmurs, booping my nose. My eyes fall shut when he presses his lips to my cheek, nudging his face against mine. “Important stuff here . . Now, let’s see if it fits.” 

Gulping, I hold out my hand, wincing at the way it shakes. As I watch his long fingers delicately remove the golden ring from the velvet cushion, I try to remember how I’d come to be sitting on his lap. How all of this had happened. A sigh of relief washes over me when he takes my hand in his, gently squeezing it before his other nears it. With bated breath, my gaze flicks between his hand and his greens that watch the same. 

A smile climbs my cheeks as Harry slides off my promise ring, pressing his lips to the naked skin. Happiness sighs from my lips with a choked sound, watching how he carefully places the thin golden band onto my finger. Folding my fingers into his, his wheeze graces the air as I admire the nostalgic ring.

“They’re me Grandma Claire’s diamonds too, from her wedding ring. She wanted me t’ use ‘em when I told her I was goin’ t’ propose t’ you,” he explains softly as I tilt my hand back and forth, watching how the several diamonds catch the light. 

“Oh, Harry,” it catches in my throat as disbelief paints my insides. Guilt rises with it as I remember growing upset with him in my mind, fearing that this was never going to happen. Now, as I stare down at the ring that seals our promise, I truly can’t fathom it. Seeing is believing. 

I’d seen this ring time and time again whilst growing up, admiring it on several occasions. My gran even let me wear it once or twice, joking that it was because I was her favourite. I never thought I would get to wear it one day myself, and that thought makes my vision swim with more tears. Blinking them away, I brush my thumb over the round diamond set into the middle, and the smaller tear drop shaped ones set into the winding bands of gold connecting to the main band. 

“How’s it fit, bug?” 

“Perfect,” my answer is shy, riddled with memories from the only other time I’d worn it before. It had once swallowed my finger, hanging dangerously loose. Not now. No, it fit me snugly, reminding me of all of the years that had passed. Bringing my eyes to his, the dimples only fall deeper into his cheeks. “It’s more than beautiful, Harry, thank you . . Thank you for letting me keep her with me every day, and Claire too.” 

“Yer mo’ than welcome, Becks. ‘m so happy that they get t’ be a part o’ this with us.” 

My chest only shakes harder when he says those words, and I even feel his do the same against mine. At last, the dryness in my throat wasn’t because of pain or hurting, but for a moment, I let myself feel that. I allow myself to remember speaking with her about when I would get married one day as I wore her ring that was too big for me, wishing for a second that I could go back to that day. 

“Harry, you have no idea how much this means to me . . to get to have her with me for this.” wrinkles gather around his eyes when I see them again. They’re painted with tears, and the mere sight of him makes my heart swell. I never thought it could be this good. No, not when I dreamt out loud with my gran about one day wearing a big, white dress and marrying the man of my dreams. I could have never known that I’d be blessed with a man who was that, and more. “I used to talk to her about my silly little girl dreams of getting married, and she’d let me try on her ring and . . “ I muse, my forehead pressed to his, staring at the ring together. 

“Yer dad told me ‘bout that, it only made it seem even mo’ perfect t’ use her ring. He was so happy t’ pass it on t’ me, Becks- onto you,” Harry whispers, sponging kisses across my face in slow movements. I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t been smiling, and was sure that I’d never be able to stop, mumbling soft ‘thank you’s to him. 

“Well?!” comes a shout from nowhere. Nearly jumping, my gaze lifts to the balcony railing and the flickers of light I make out through them where the voice had come from. “What’d she say?! We’re bloody dying over here waiting, and freezing our asses off, mind you!” When my eyes meet Harry’s, our giggles light up the air around us, our breaths mingling. 

“I’m fucking freezing! Are you done yet?” comes yet another voice, one that I also recognize. My eyebrows only fall further into a question as I look at Harry. 

His shoulders rise only to fall, “What? Don’t think I set up all o’ those candles and lit ‘em meself, d’ya? ‘s flatterin’ if ya think so, but I had a li’l help.” 

“What, who?”

“Who d’ya think, bug? Our family,” he answers, swiping his thumb underneath my eye to catch a tear. It makes my lips still, the way he said it. They’re my family now, and mine is his. “Care t’ do tha honors, or shall I?” 

“You can. I just know you’re itching to,” it’s a giggle that only grows louder as he lifts his eyebrows at me. 

“She said yes! We’re gettin’ married!” Harry shouts, and a loud cheer follows ensuite from down below. My favorite sound in the world fills my ears when his lips come to press against my head. “My Becks, forever and ever, baby.”

“Forever,” I repeat aloud, trying it out, as if I hadn’t already a million times over in my head. “Wait, who all did you rassle together for this sneaky mission of yours?” 

“We’ll meet you inside, it’s fucking cold out!” Robbie shouts, followed by a loud ‘brr.’

It comes from his lips again, that sound. Tilting my head to meet his eyes, the sound of his heart thumps in my ear. I’m not sure I could have found a better spot. 

“As you can tell by their loud mouths, Skye and Robbie, first o’ all. Then, ‘course yer dad and my mum, me sister, Myles, and Asher,” he grins, pride dripping from every word he speaks. “My Dad helped with tha reservation at Isabelle’s, he couldn’t have spoke higher o’ tha place. I can see why now, can’t picture our pre-proposal dinner bein’ anywhere else. It only made t’night mo’ perfect . . ‘d thought o’ doin’ it with Scrabble tiles, seein’ how ‘s always been our thing, but I wanted somethin’ grander. Mum and Gemma gave me tha idea o’ spellin’ it out bigger ‘til I thought o’ candles. Then, it was jus’ a matter of gettin’ enough o’ ‘em and lightin’ ‘em. I left tha hard part t’ them, and that jus’ left me with tha ring. Reckon that was really tha most difficult o’ all. Me Gran said I could have her wedding ring, I almost started cryin’ I was so choked up ‘bout it. It was that weekend I took ya home with me, seems it made her a li’l emotional talkin’ t’ ya knowin’ what was gonna happen. That was ‘til yer dad said he wanted me t’ have yer Grandma Ann’s ring, seein’ how close tha two o’ you were . . It jus’ seemed perfect, ‘d been thinkin’ so long on what kinda ring t’ get you, and it jus’ clicked. ‘Course, I still wanted t’ include me Gran somehow. Yer Gran’s ring was missin’ a few stones and hers fit jus’ right. I couldn’t be happier ‘bout tha ring, Becks, and it looks so beautiful on you, love. Like . . like it was made fer you, bug.” 

Words escape me, not that any feel like they could do any justice at this moment. No, those ones aren’t anywhere to be found, besides the ‘thank you’ I tell him, and the other one I say to him with my lips. 

I’m unsure if my legs will ever stop feeling like Jello when he helps me stand, my arms around his waist at the soonest chance. His lips radiated sunshine, but this time, every inch of his face did too. It’d spread to his limbs, imbuing me with his contagious rays when his arms come around me, and the way his lips wouldn’t leave mine alone. 

“What are you doing?” it’s a mumbled question laced with pure confusion when he pulls me over to the right side of the balcony. Realization only dawns on me when I watch what he picks up, light at last revealing it. “You recorded it?” there they are again, hugging my voice and refusing to let go. 

“‘Course, I did,” Harry grins, sliding his hand into the cloth handle on the other side of the compact camcorder. “Still am, look at my beautiful fiancee, and soon t’ be wife.” 

“Harry,” it sounds sad until my laugh overwhelms it, because my smile hasn’t even signalled a departure. 

“Look at that dimple shinin’ so bright,” he remarks, thumbing at the indent in my left cheek. It wanders to the imperfection below my eye. His hand is warm and clammy when mine comes to surround it, overflowing his eyes with tears. “And that ring- bloody hell, can’t believe I get t’ marry you- Hey, kids, if yer watchin’ this one day, which I bloody well hope you are, this ‘s yer Mum. ‘sn’t she absolutely gorgeous? I can’t wait t’ marry yer Mummy, she’s truly tha best person ‘ve met in me entire life- well, ‘til we meet you lot.” 

“Harry,” this time, it’s choked with a sob, or a few. His hand comes to his eyes, pressing his thumbs against his greens with that sunshine on his lips. The breathy sound of happiness sings from his lips when he drops it after a few moments of soft tears, staring back at me, his book wide open. 

“Figure we should show ‘em tha main attraction,” panning to the right, I follow him to the balcony where the multitudes of flickering flames still remain. “We’ll hafta go and blow ‘em out.” 

“Not yet. I just want to look at them awhile . . with you.” 

His reply is only a sniffle, amplified by the way he pulls me against his side, pointing the lens at us now. I look past it, down at the ground where the sight still steals the breath from my lungs, just like the pair of lips on my forehead. 

A few moments later, maybe longer, Harry’s whisper breaks through my thoughts, “Ready t’ go downstairs and show ev’rybody?” 

“Just a few more minutes.” 

“Dontchu worry, we’ve got forever, Becks.” 

Usually, I’d roll my eyes at the cheesy line he deals, but I can’t stop staring at him, still smiling at the thought of getting that with him. Forever. 

/

It beckoned me, trying and failing to drag me away, but I still wasn’t ready. Soft snores had begun to leave his lips long ago. I’m not even sure what the hour was anymore. Skye was the last to leave, to nobody’s surprise, when the small hand was nearing the eleven. Chocolate galore, charcuterie boards, pizzas, and sparkling grape juice filled the hours amongst more crying and stories upon stories. Harry’s clothes were the first to go once we were alone, and mine followed his soon after. 

I wondered if I’d ever stop thinking about it, or more importantly, stop staring at it. Only the least bit of light ran through the barely closed curtains, catching the ring, just like it’d always been. I also wondered when I’d stop crying, it was a little embarrassing when it happened in between the sheets with Harry. 

His stirring beside me brought my eyes upward and to him. Lines gathered on Harry’s forehead in his sleep, relaxing a second later. A huff fell from his lips and into the air as he relaxed, an inked arm stilling underneath his pillow. With a long blink, I belatedly tug the covers over my shoulders, nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck. He didn’t groan anymore or even move at the touch, or when the tip of my finger begins to trace the lines of the numbers hovering over his heart. The year that started it all, a three letter word that now had turned into forever, something I never thought I would get to have with him. I fall asleep with the smile still stuck to my lips, unwavering against the warm skin of his neck. 

/

A few days later, and it still hadn’t worn off. Secretly, I was hoping that it never would. Again, the smile still came when I caught sight of the promise on my finger, and was only a reach away. When I stopped in front of the sink in our ensuite bathroom, it fell when I called to Harry with a question, but only for a moment. 

“Babe, have you seen my pill pack?”

“No, I don’t think so. Have you checked tha usual spots?”

“Yeah, I don’t know where I put it,” sighing, I pad across the cold, tile floor. “Oh. Well, I’m sure I’ll find it.” 

* 

Song: Let’s Get Married by The Bleachers (click to listen) ;) ;) 

[louhooo]

If I Didn't Care

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky finally catches a break.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Like, a handful of swear words, SO MUCH FLUFF AND SO MANY FEELINGS

A/N: I’ve been on quarantine for the last week and I was in a 1940s Bucky mood 🤷‍♀️ This and this inspired me.

As always, feedback is a very much appreciated and welcomed!!! 💘💘💘

Tick… Tock… Tick… Tok…

The wooden clock, the last thing you had of your granddad’s, sat nestled atop the pink crocheted doily Becca made for you four years ago. She claimed crocheting took her mind off of “it”.

You wrote to him when Becca gave it to you, telling him all about how talented his sister was and how he needed to hurry home so he could boast her up, too.

That’s how you were in the early letters; lighthearted. Blithe. Unfettered that Bucky was thousands of miles away, acting as though he was still at camp in Indiana. Steadfast on the notion that he would be home soon, and you could have your fella back.

Bucky read that particular letter for a few weeks while he was stuck in a trench. Some soldiers ribbed him about the “lovesick look” he gave the pieces of paper. Others shared an understanding pat on his back, as they themselves had memorized every word their sweethearts back home had wrote for them.

He tried writing back to you a few times, tried coming up with something smart to say that he knew would make you laugh… but he couldn’t. He was tired. And scared. And wanted to be home more than he could truthfully tell you.

I’m sorry it’s takin’ me so long, honey. I keep tryin’ to tell ya about what’s going on here, but I can only tell you so much… and none of it is anything you’d want to hear, anyways.

I just miss you, sweetheart. More than you know.

All my love,

Bucky

Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes, 107th

Two weeks later he was captured. 

You stirred beside him, pulling Bucky from long ago memories and into the present. He rolled to his side, gazing at you, memorizing the curve of your exposed back in the early morning light. You clutched the pillow under your arms, a soft hum coming from you.

You took a deep breath, stretching toes as you turned your head away from the window, not ready for the day to begin. Your face scrunched as you dared to open one eye, only to be met with a steely gaze and deep circles, and a warm smile that tried convincing you everything was perfect. You slid your hand across the bed until you met the warmth of his calloused hand and squeezed halfheartedly.

“Why’re you awake?” His smile deepened as he rubbed his thumb over your smooth skin.

“How can I sleep when there’s an angel next to me? If I sleep, I’ll miss it.” A sleepy grin spread on your face, and you huffed a laugh through your nose.

“You’re a real charmer, Barnes.”

“Only for you, sugar.” Bucky felt your hand tighten in his, and he moved your hands towards his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on the curve of your finger. You sighed contently and closed your eyes, sleep still fresh in your mind.

“What time is it?” You asked, your face half smushed against the pale blue linen. His other hand brushed the loose curls from your face, the tips of his fingers following the smoothness of your skin down your back.

“Almost six.” You hummed, in acknowledgement or pleasure, he wasn’t sure.

“Can we stay in bed forever?” He grinned and leaned over to kiss your shoulder.

“As long as you don’t hog the covers.” He laid on his back as he watched another lazy grin spread on your face.

“No promises.” Down below, the city was starting to stir, meaning the illusion of peace would be coming to an end for the time being. You groaned and pulled yourself closer to Bucky, seeking his warmth. “We hafta get up soon, don’t we?” Bucky chortled as you squinted up at him.

“’Fraid so, sweetheart.” You groaned softly and dropped your head onto the plains of his chest. He chuckled and rubbed his palm down the back of your head, smoothing your hair. You tilted your head and looked up at him, a tired pout on your face.

“Can you promise me now that we won’t make any plans for the weekend? I need 48 continuous hours with my husband.” An effortless chuckle vibrated in his chest and he stared at you with hearts in his eyes.

“Yes, ma’am.” Happy with his answer, you pushed yourself up, your lips landing on his, quieting the storm that lingered in Bucky’s thoughts. You started to pull away, but Bucky pulled you back in, cupping your face and kissing you like it was the first time. One hand stayed on the bed to keep your balance and the other laid on top of his hand, your fingers going over the metal band on his finger. You pulled back with a gasp, air filling your lungs.

You gazed at each other as you both worked to control your breathing, both forgetting that you needed to start getting ready for the day.

“If you keep kissin’ me like that, we’ll be late and—” Bucky pulled you back, swallowing your words before they had a chance to pass your lips. You moved so he could hover over you and he settled between your legs, rolling his hips.

The day could wait a little while longer.

“Buck?” Bucky blinked, subconsciously shaking his head as he turned to look at Steve. 

“Yeah?” Steve studied the man beside him, fear visibly seeping through Bucky’s pores. 

Silent fear. 

Fear that would never be spoken about to anyone, not even Steve. 

Bucky adjusted the hat on his lap and cleared his throat, hoping that distracting himself would make the situation easier.

Steve let out a tired sigh and settled in the spot beside his friend.

“Think your mom made her apple pie for us?” Bucky huffed a laugh, an easy grin spreading across his face. 

“Hell… I don’t even remember what it tastes like anymore. Hope she made two, ‘cause I’m not sharing any with you.” They both laughed, loud and freely.

Steve continued before he could stop himself. “Do you think Y/N’s gonna be able to leave the hospital?” Bucky’s laughter quieted, his grin fading away into the frown he’d had the entirety of the boat ride home. 

“Yeah. Her last letter said she would.” Bucky had written a letter to his mom, telling her to let you know you didn’t have to be there when they docked, that he’d understand if you were too busy. He shouldn’t have been surprised when just two and a half weeks later, he found a letter from you sitting on his bed.

Foolish.

Utterly stupid.

Completely moronic.

Those were just some of the things you called him in your seven page letter. And Bucky knew it. A part of him knew you’d show, and you had probably talked with the other nurses as soon as you heard his return date so that they’d help cover for you so that you’d be able to be there.

He knew that.

But the other, louder part of him feared that you wouldn’t be there. That, at some point in the years since you had last seen each other, you fell in love with someone new and just couldn’t tell him over writing. 

You can’t break up with someone in writing, Bucky, you had told him his last night home, so if you wanna break up, you have to do it now. But save your breath because I won’t accept it anyways.

Or, maybe what he feared most would be how you looked at him. Would you still see him as the same kid he was when he left, or would you only see the shell of who was left?

Someone shouted about seeing the Statue of Liberty and the ship broke out in cheers.

They were home.

Cloudy, warm water sat in the basin as Bucky took long, steady strokes down his face. He hadn’t shaved in almost a week, much to his mother’s dismay. When she dropped off a casserole earlier in the week, she, in that way that mothers do, stared in quiet disappointment at his jaw, never saying a word, but getting her point across perfectly.

Bucky finished shaving and wiped his face with a fresh towel and stared at himself in the mirror, resting his hands on the cool porcelain, his fingers curling over the edge. The circles under his eyes seemed darker and more noticeable with no beard to take all the attention.

“Honey?” You knocked on the door twice as a courtesy, and pushed the bathroom door open, “I finished ironing your shirt.” You smiled and brought in a cup of coffee just how he liked it. “It’s hanging up on the door.” You hummed in subdued surprise and stepped into the small yellow bathroom and smiled at Bucky in the mirror, your free hand running across his lower back as you stood beside him. “You look nice.”

Bucky grinned as he took the mug from your hand and took a drink, the hot beverage instantly soothing his mind.

“Thanks, baby.” He set the coffee down on the shelf under the mirror and took the drain out of the sink, setting the stopper up to dry. Your fingers ghosted over his left shoulder and he tensed, inhaling sharply. His head turned quickly and he stared at you, an apologetic grimace on your face.

“Sorry… Are they botherin’ you?” You stared closely at the angry scars that littered his arm, looking for any sign of irritation that might be causing his discomfort. 

He knew what you meant. Wanted to know if they were hurting him in any way, not just tangibly. After Switzerland, doctor’s had been able to save his arm, but the scars and pain that it left him made him wonder if it was worth it. They told him he suffered damage to his nerves, so he’d never be able to use his left arm the same way.

But when his arm started to heal a few weeks after his surgery, the doctors were bewildered. 

Amazing, they’d told him. 

It wasn’t. Not really. It was just another reminder of what he went through when he was captured.

“No… they’re fine.” Your eyes flashed to his, giving him chance to change his answer. “I’m just anxious about my interview.”

“Oh, Buck, you’re gonna knock it outta the park! I guarantee they don’t let you leave without hiring you on the spot!” You turned to face each, taking his hands in yours. He squeezed your hands and watched his thumb rub over your knuckles.

“What do I tell ‘em? ‘My wife thinks I’m great, so you hafta hire me?’” You chuckled and shook your head.

“No, just tell ‘em I make the best chocolate cake, so they be glad they hired you come the holidays.” Bucky chortled, skimming his thumb over the gold band on your finger. “Tell them you’re the best mechanic they’re ever going to find, and not hiring you would be the dumbest thing they could do,” you pulsed your hands, “I can go to lunch early if you want me to walk with you to the interview?” Bucky let out a long sigh and finally met your gaze.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want you to be late gettin’ back to the hospital.”

“’S not that big o’ deal. I’ll have one of the girls cover for me if I’m not back.” He gave you that soft smile, that smile that told you he wanted to tell you no, but didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You took a deep breath and studied him, reaching up to wipe the small bit of shaving cream that lingered by his ear. “Fine… I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” a gentle kiss to your forehead and you separated, Bucky taking his coffee and going to the bedroom to get dressed. You stared at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you were simply making up the annoyance Bucky held for you, or if it was factual, and now he was stuck with someone who pestered him. 

He’ll talk to you if he wants to, Y/N, your friends affirmed, don’t take it personally. My Johnny does the same thing. They all do it.

Not Bucky. 

Your Bucky shared his soul with you years ago, and now he was hiding it from you, and nothing hurt you more.

Bucky left the apartment at the same time as you, not needing to, but not knowing what else to do with his time if he stayed at the apartment. 

He showed up at the auto repair shop two hours early and settled on the bench just outside the front door, attempting to read the newspaper he bought on the way there.

It was going terribly.

He wasn’t able to get past the first paragraph without getting caught up in his thoughts and losing focus. He tried reading about the new player the Dodgers just bought thirty times before he gave up and watched the birds up in the trees.

The bell chimed above the door and an older man in grease covered denim coveralls, wiping his hands with a rag, stood in the doorway looking Bucky up and down.

“You here for the interview?” Bucky stood up quickly, smoothing out his brown suit and taking off his hat, holding it to his stomach.

“Yes, sir.” He raised a brow.

“You’ve been sittin’ out here for nearly an hour. Don’t have anything better to do?”

“My wife told me if I break her radio again, she’ll put me out on the street.” The man chuckled, still wiping grease and grime from his hands. He stuffed the rag into his back pocket and extended his right hand to Bucky.

“I’m Walter, but everyone calls me Walt.”

“James, but friends call me Bucky.”

“Ya got a strong grip. Well, Bucky, come with me, we’ll go to my office.” Bucky grabbed the newspaper and folded it quickly, following Walt through the front door. They took a short walk through the garage and went into Walt’s office that sat in the back corner of the shop, giving him the best view of everything in the garage. Walt motioned for Bucky to sit in one of the worn wooden chairs in his office and shut the door behind them. 

“I didn’t mean to make ya change your schedule for me. I woulda waited until it was time.” Walt chuckled gruffly, waving Bucky off as he sat in his swivel chair, the wood creaking as he settled.

“I felt sorry for ya. Guys were makin’ bets on how long it’d take ya to come inside.” Bucky chuckled, shrugging off his embarrassment.

“Who won?”

“Me. They’re out gettin’ me a Coke as we speak!” Bucky laughed and relaxed in his chair, his nerves not consuming him for the moment. “So, tell me about yourself, Bucky.” Bucky rattled off facts about himself: where he served, what he did overseas, how long he was overseas, and where he got his training when he got back home. Walt raised his hand, cutting Bucky off. Bucky stopped talking and Walt lowered his hand, resting it on the arm of his chair. “You said you had a wife?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Y/N.”

“How long you been married?”

“Got married last May when I got back from vocational school.”

“Any kids?” Bucky shook his head.

“Not yet.”

“Did you meet her when you got home?” An easy grin made its way to Bucky’s face and shook his head.

“No, I’ve known her since we were kids.” Walt’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“She must really like you if she let you make her wait that long.” Bucky chuckled.

“I’ll tell ya Walt, I’ve had pretty stubborn women around me all my life, but she takes the cake.” Walt laughed, the deep sound echoing in the small office. “I lost count how many times I asked her to marry me, and I almost had her convinced, but then the war happened,” he shrugged his hands, “and then there were other things to do. She told me we could get married when I got home. Said it’d give me somethin’ to look forward to.” Bucky huffed, “She still made me wait until after I was done with training.”

“She work?”

“She’s a nurse at Kings County up on Clarkson.” Walt hummed. “You married?”

Walt took a deep breath, holding the edge of his desk as though he was steadying himself. “Lucy and I have been married for about twenty five years. We have ten kids, six sons, four girls.” Bucky couldn’t stop his eyes from going wide.

“Doesn’t sound very quiet at your house.” Walt chuckled and leaned back in his chair, resting his ankle on his knee.

“Some days are better than others… I still wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world, though.” Bucky grinned, heartened by the sentiment. Walt let out a sigh, “Well, Bucky… you’ve got the training I’m lookin’ for, so, tell me, why should I hire you?” Bucky took a deep breath. 

Tell them you’re the best mechanic they’re ever going to find, and not hiring you would be the dumbest thing they could do.

“Truthfully, you’re not gonna find a better mechanic.” Walt raised his brows. “I’m hardworking and someone you can count on to show up and get the job done. I’m the best there is.” Walt blinked. 

“So…” Walt started, “let me get this right…. You’re tellin’ me, that you’re a better mechanic than myself, someone who’s been a mechanic for over twenty years?” White, hot fear started coursing through Bucky’s body.

He swallowed thickly, his stomach dropping, “Uh… yes, sir?”

The men continued to stare at one another, Bucky preparing himself to be thrown out on his face, if he wasn’t pummeled first.

Could Walt see the sweat on his lip?

What were you going to say when he came home with a broken nose and no job?

Would you finally regret marrying him?

You were nervous.

You had expected that Bucky would call the hospital after his interview and tell you how it went, good or bad. You knew what time his interview was, and the more and more time that passed without hearing anything from him was starting to worry you. You finished up your charts for the night nurse and as soon as the last ‘i’ was dotted and ‘t’ crossed, you grabbed your bag and said your goodbyes for the weekend.

You walked down the stairwell and out of the staff exit, coming to a halt as soon as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the door shutting behind you. There was Bucky, still in his brown suit, leaning against the wall with that boyish smile you’d fallen in love with.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He stepped closer, pulling a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. You gasped softly and took the flowers as he handed them to you. “How are you?” He kissed your cheek and you stared at him, trying to decipher his mood.

“Hi, honey,”  he held his arm out for you and your suspicions quieted, a bashful grin forming on your face. You took his arm and you both fell into a leisurely pace as you walked home. “This is a nice surprise.” You smiled at him, adjusting the grip on the bouquet. Bucky, without being asked, reached for the flowers and held them in his left hand, freeing your hand.

“I just missed you,” he turned his head and grinned, “and I realized it’s been a while since I walked you home from work.” Your hold tightened around his arm and you could feel the hearts grow in your eyes.

“It’s not my birthday, is it? Our anniversary maybe?” Bucky smirked at you out of the corner of his eye, knowing what you were hinting at.

“No, ma’am. It’s just an ordinary Friday.” You hummed, forcing your eyes ahead.

“Strange.” He hummed in agreement and you shook your head good naturedly and walked in silence with all of the city noise. You came to a stop after a few minutes, waiting for traffic to pass. You looked at him, “I’m gonna hafta ask, aren’t I?” Bucky looked at you nonchalantly.

“Ask about what?” You gave him an exacerbated look, a laugh escaping his mouth. 

You laughed with him, “Tell me! The suspense has been getting’ to me all day!” Bucky laughed more, the creases by his eyes deepening. 

“We’ll hafta stop at the grocery store before we go home.” He led you across the street, ignoring your expectant glances.

“James Buchanan Barnes, if you don’t tell me—”

“Ask me what we needta get at the store.” He raised his brows at you keenly. You stared back at him, blinking a few times before you sighed and gave in.

“What do we need to buy at the store, honey?”

“Flour. We’re almost out.” Your face twisted, visibly confused by what Bucky was talking about.

“We don’t needta get flour? I’m not makin’ anything.”

“Well, I kinda already told the guys at the shop you make the best chocolate cake, so I really don’t wanna show up empty handed on Monday morning.” You came to a standstill just in front of the grocery store, pulling Bucky to a stop as well. You stared at him with big eyes.

“You got the job?” Your voice was soft, barely audible over the commotion of rush hour. Bucky simply smiled, and you knew. You squealed and threw your arms around his neck, the shock of which made Bucky drop the flowers on the ground so he could catch you. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight, unaffected by the stares of everyone around them.

How could he be bothered with you in his arms?

As soon as you were home from the store, and everything had been put away and the roses put into a vase, you and Bucky sat at the kitchen table and he recounted his day. You listened attentively, a permanent grin fixed on your face. When he was done, you stood leaning over to kiss his lips.

“I’m so happy for you, baby.” Bucky smiled and gingerly pulled your hand until you settled on his lap. You sat contently with your legs crossed, and combed back his hair with your nails adoringly.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” You continued to scratch his scalp tenderly as he rubbed his hand over your lower back. He chuckled to himself, “Ya know, I was half worried you’d leave if I didn’t get the job.” Bucky watched the smile on your face slowly fall, his own grin disappearing at the loss of yours. You stopped pushing your fingers through his hair and sat back so as to see him clearer.

“What?” Bucky started to stammer.

“Well, I-I just mean that, ya know… I’m your husband. I’m supposed to take care of you, a-and I can’t treat ya how I’m supposed to when the jobs I find barely pay enough to put food on the table or a roof over your head.” When Bucky got home from overseas, he was less than willing to take any stipends the government was giving to veterans. Every dime Bucky received went directly into savings, even when everyone tried convincing him he should use it. He wasn’t going to use that money unless he absolutely had to.

I’m not gonna need it, he’d told everyone, I’ll just go back to the factory and pick up my old job.

When he’d gone to the factory, he realized that wasn’t the only guy in Brooklyn looking for work. Steve and the other Commandoes tried helping him, telling Bucky to stay with the S.S.R like them, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t when he finally had you back. He couldn’t risk it, even if the pay would have been able to give you the life you deserved.

After he finished training, he started calling every auto repair shop in the phone book, asking if they needed a new mechanic. After eleven phone calls that ended in rejection, Bucky was defeated. Slowly, when the small jobs he found on construction yards weren’t enough, the savings started to go, and you subtly started working a few more hours every week.

Bucky was beginning to wonder if the crease between your eyes was going to be permanent.

“Honey?” You blinked and took a long, steadying breath.

“Have I ever told you that I don’t feel like you treat me right, or that you don’t take care of me?”

“Well, I—” You gave him a firm look and he stopped himself.

“Yes or no.” Bucky let out a deep sigh.

“No, ma’am.”

You nodded your head. “No, I haven’t, you’re right. Because I have never once thought that about you, Bucky. Not once. And I think you know full well that I would have told if I had.” Bucky stared glumly at the ground, taking the reprimand in silence.

“I just wanna be able to buy you new dresses if you want them, or finally get you a real ring. I’m gonna be able to do that now with what they’ll pay me at the shop.”

“Bucky, I know you think I’m embarrassed to ask my friends for hand-me-downs, or that I’m upset that I never got a flashy engagement ring like my friends or the other nurses… but I’m not. I’ve been wearing hand-me-downs since I was ten years old, Buck. Why on earth would I start getting embarrassed now? And, as far as I’m concerned, the ring on my hand is just right, because you gave it to me, and that’s all I wanted.” You cupped his jaw tenderly, lifting it until he was looking at you. “You will always be what I want, James.” 

You felt Bucky melt in your hand, and he sighed, resting his head on your chest. He breathed you in, and you continued to sit in each other’s quiet embrace, the sounds of your heart beat steady and strong in his ear.

[toohardtoforgetcth]

Too Hard To Forget

Chapter Five

Warnings: swearing and mature themes, sexual references probably

7,958 words

A/N: Hello it’s me again back on my bullshit, here’s chapter five don’t hate me <3 ps please I beg send me your notes comments criticisms ANYTHING I wanna know what y’all think about my babies

» » » » » »

“Special delivery for Parker Daniels,” a deep, familiar voice echoed from behind her. Parker whirled around, a smile already on her face before she even made eye contact with the man holding two bouquets of flowers.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, coming around to the other side of the reception desk where Calum was standing.

“Well, obviously I’m here to give you these,” he rolled his eyes fondly at her, extending one of the bouquets out for her to take. “But it’s also Gram and my Granddad’s anniversary, and I always bring her flowers.”

“You’re really sweet,” she said, taking them from his hand.

Calum wrapped his free arm around Parker’s waist, tugging her close. “Shush, love. Got a reputation to uphold,” he winked, planting a kiss to her lips. He let her go, walking backwards down the hall towards Grace’s room. “Saturday night. Don’t make plans.”

“What’s happening Saturday?” she asked.

“Boys’ night,” he called out. “You can crash. Bring Jenna,” he added before turning and leaving Parker to stare after the delicious sight that was Calum’s ass in tight black jeans.

Calum entered Grace’s bedroom, hiding behind the huge bouquet. “Good morning, pretty lady,” he grinned, peeking his head above the flowers.

“Oh, Calum!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Thank you! They’re beautiful, dear. Even better than the last time,” she smiled, taking them from his hands. “Hard to believe it’s been almost 17 years since he’s been gone,” she sighed wistfully.

Calum said nothing, just wrapped Gram up in a tight hug, squeezing her and kissing the top of her head.

Parker poked her head around the doorframe, knocking lightly. “Am I interrupting?” she asked.

Calum let go of Gram, turning around. “Come on in, angel,” he replied, reaching his hand out for her.

Parker entered the room, setting a glass vase filled with water on the table beside Grace’s bed. “Thought you might need this,” she said.

“Oh, how thoughtful. Thank you, dear,” Grace said, squeezing Parker’s hand.

She turned to leave, but Calum caught her elbow, spinning her back towards him and kissing her lightly on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Parker nodded, blushing. Grace was absolutely beaming at the two of them. “See you later, Grace,” she smiled before meeting Calum’s eyes once more and leaving.

Calum watched her leave before turning back to Gram. She wore a smile of pure joy, one that reached her eyes. “I’m so glad you two worked things out,” she said. “She makes you happy.”

Calum flashed her a lopsided grin. “You make me happy.”

Gram chuckled. “I’ve never made you this happy, baby. You’re glowing.”

Calum couldn’t argue with her. He loved Gram more than anything else in the world, but since he’d been with Parker, he was feeling lighter than air. It was a strange feeling. For the first time in Calum’s life, he felt like he was ready to let someone in. He couldn’t explain why it was different with Parker, but it didn’t matter. He wanted her to know him.

» » » » » »

“So tell me again why we’re crashing boys’ night,” Jenna questioned as she sat at Parker’s vanity, adding hairspray to her just-curled hair.

Parker was rummaging through her closet, looking for a top to wear. “I have no idea,” she said honestly. “Calum’s request,” she shrugged.

She tugged a sheer long sleeve off its hanger, slipping it over her head when she noticed her phone light up with a FaceTime call notification. She sat down on her bed, accepting the call from Calum.

Her phone screen was filled with a close-up of Michael’s face, yelling to be heard over the rest of the boys screaming along to Nickelback in the background.

“When are you guys coming over?” he yelled into the phone, a silver cross dangling from his right ear. Parker shook her head, chuckling to herself. “There’s too much testosterone over here. Please tell me you’re coming soon!” Michael begged, before Calum snatched the phone out of his hand.

“Give us like, ten minutes,” Parker told him, checking the time. “You’re not even dressed yet!” Parker laughed, only just noticing that Calum wasn’t even wearing a shirt.

“Just get your ass over here, doll. The boys are getting rowdy,’ he said before ending the call.

Fifteen minutes later, Jenna and Parker were in an Uber on the way to Calum’s apartment. Jenna pulled a flask out of her boot and handed it to Parker. Parker smirked, taking a shot of whatever was in it.

She scrunched her nose in disgust, handing it back to her friend. “Tequila? You’re gross,” she laughed.

When they reached Calum’s apartment door, Parker turned to Jenna. “I apologize for whatever we may find in there,” she gestured to the door. “They get weird when they’re together.”

Jenna giggled as Parker turned the handle and opened the door. Just as Calum had said, the boys were definitely getting rowdy. Luke was standing on the couch, Ashton was on his knees, and Calum and Michael were facing each other, all four of them singing unbelievably loudly and playing air instruments along with the music blasting out of Calum’s speakers.

“Boys,” Jenna said, rolling her eyes, and Parker laughed.

“Are we interrupting?” Parker announced loudly, and the four of them turned to look at her.

Michael came bounding over, squeezing her in a tight hug. “Hey, Michael,” she laughed. “This is Jenna,” she gestured to the brunette standing next to her. “Jenna, these are the boys. Michael, Ashton, Luke and Calum.”

After the introductions, Luke made Parker and Jenna a drink, and they toasted to new friends. Parker noticed how Luke’s eyes lingered on Jenna and how his fingers brushed hers when he handed her her drink.

“You’re still not dressed,” Parker pointed out, gesturing to Calum’s still-naked chest.

“I thought you liked me better this way,” he said cheekily.

“Yeah, when we’re alone and I can enjoy it,” she returned smoothly. “Go,” she urged, pushing him in the direction of his bedroom.

“Help me pick something,” he said, grabbing her wrist and tugging her along with him.

Fifteen minutes later, they emerged from Calum’s bedroom. Calum was finally dressed, but both their cheeks were flushed and their hair a little messier than it was when they left.

“Y’all were having sex, weren’t you?” Jenna accused with narrowed eyes, gesturing between the two of them.

Parker shot her a dirty look, but then her face broke into a wicked grin.

• • • • • •

At the bar, after several rounds of shots and plenty of dancing, Parker was having a blast. Jenna was getting on with the boys, and she seemed to approve of Calum, which was all Parker cared about. Lately, Calum seemed less grumpy than usual and it made Parker happy. He smiled and laughed a lot, and it lit up his face, a welcome change from the scowl she used to see etched into his features. Once he had opened up to her, he was a different person. He was still sarcastic and had that same sly, cocky, suggestive sense of humour, but he was also sweet and gentle and he made Parker’s heart flutter. His friends were a blast, too, and without much effort at all she found herself falling for him, fast.

“You need another drink, love?” he asked her, noting her empty cup and downing the last of his own drink.

“I’ll get it,” she shook her head, smiling. She kissed him on the cheek and made her way to the bar on the other side of the dance floor.

Parker ordered a beer for Calum and another cocktail for herself, leaning against the bartop as she waited. Her gaze found her friends on the floor, the boys dancing in a circle around Jenna and having the time of their lives. She smiled fondly as she watched them, smirking when she saw Luke trying to get closer to her. She vaguely noticed Ashton wasn’t among them and wondered where he was. Her silent question was answered when she heard a familiar voice next to her.

“He’s crazy about you, you know,” Ashton stated, raising the hand that was holding his drink and pointing in Calum’s direction. Parker looked up at him, black hair falling in tousled waves around his face. “He’s never been much of a relationship guy. He doesn’t let people in, and he doesn’t trust easily. But I can see that it’s different with you. I don’t know you, but I have to ask—are you serious about him? ‘Cause if you’re not, tell him now. I love that man like a brother, and I can’t watch him get hurt if you’re not sure.”

His expression wasn’t unkind, but he had lines of worry etched in his face, and Parker was a little bit offended by his assumption that she was using him. She had spent too much time and lost too much sleep over trying to convince Calum that she was a good person, and frankly it had been exhausting—she wasn’t going to do it with Ashton, too, Calum’s best friend or not.

“Look,” she began, hand on her hip and mild annoyance on her face. “You’re right—you don’t know me. I can appreciate that you’re looking out for your friend, but I’m not going to hurt him. I care about him. And I don’t particularly like having to prove myself to anyone but him.”

“Hey, easy,” Ashton replied, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, if you hurt him,” he warned, “believe me when I say you won’t get a second chance.”

The bartender slid Parker’s drinks across the bar to her, and she handed him the money. She turned back to Ashton. It frustrated her that he didn’t think she really cared about Calum, but she didn’t want to give him any reason not to like her. For Calum’s sake, Ashton’s approval was important to her. “I respect you, and what you’re trying to do, but I like him, okay? More than you know,” she trailed off, her eyes finding Calum again. “I want us to be friends,” she added, turning back to Ashton. “So you cool?”

Ashton eyed her for a moment, but he seemed willing to give her a chance. “To new friends, then,” he raised his cup and clinked it with hers, smiling. She smiled back, satisfied that she’d won him over. For now, anyway.

Ashton and Parker rejoined their friends on the floor, Calum shooting Parker a puzzled look. She just shook her head, indicating that it was nothing to worry about. She handed him his beer and he kissed her on the lips, a sloppy kiss that showed his mild level of intoxication, and it made Parker laugh.

“Hey!” she exclaimed suddenly, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. “I forgot to tell you!”

“Tell me what?”

“Well, I shouldn’t tell you. Legally, I’m not allowed...” she teased.

“Angel,” he warned. “Tell me what?”

“Grace had a follow-up today with one of her specialists, and I overheard them talking that she should be cleared to go home this week,” she said excitedly.

Calum’s face lit up, smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Fuck, that’s the best news!” he exclaimed, grabbing her cheeks and kissing her repeatedly on the lips, Parker giggling at his enthusiasm. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he grinned.

“I didn’t do anything,” she pointed out.

“You take care of her like she’s family. You have no idea what that means to me,” he said sincerely. “Okay, boys, celebratory drinks on me! Gram’s coming home!”

» » » » » »

Calum was out with the boys at their favourite pub for beers on Friday night. He had finished work at six, stopping in at Grace’s house and making sure she was settling back into her routine. It had been a couple of weeks since she moved back into the house, and she seemed to be doing really well being back at home. She was happier, more relaxed, and she insisted that Calum stop visiting her every day, because she was perfectly capable of managing on her own and she would call if she needed him. He’d grinned at her, telling her that wild dogs couldn’t keep him away, and promised he’d be back to visit soon.

They were sitting at a high table, sharing their second pitcher. “I just don’t understand why you won’t give me her number,” Luke whined. He’d been bugging Calum for Jenna’s number since the group of them had gone out a few weeks ago, and Calum rolled his eyes at his best friend.

“For one,” Calum started, taking a sip from his glass, “she’s not interested in a relationship, and you don’t need to get mixed up in that. Two, I’m not letting you fuck around with my girl’s best friend. It’ll get weird.”

Luke groaned. “Fine. I’ll just be single for the rest of my life, it’s totally fine,” he muttered dramatically.

“How are things going with you two, anyway?” Ashton asked, turning to Calum.

“Obviously amazing. Look how annoyingly happy he is,” Michael pointed out, making them all laugh.

Calum smiled into his glass, thinking of the grey-eyed girl that occupied his every thought.

“You’re thinking about her now, aren’t you?” Michael giggled, breaking Calum out of his thoughts.

He looked up, downing the rest of his beer and breathing in deeply. “I think I love her, boys.”

» » » » » »

Parker was at work on Saturday afternoon when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, and she smiled when she saw Calum’s name above the text notification. On the advice of Ashton and the boys, she let Calum take the lead on where things were going. It had been over a month since they first slept together, but they hadn’t talked about what they were, and she didn’t want to push him, even though neither of them had been seeing anyone else. Parker was more than happy just being with him, so she didn’t mind taking it slow.

I’m lonely. Come over.                        

                                   I’m at work :(    

Come after.                                          

                                   I’m off at 5. You gonna survive until then?          

I don’t know.                                        

Parker was struck with a sudden idea. She closed herself in the single bathroom in the staff area. She removed her top and her bra long enough to take a photo of herself to send to Calum. Sending nudes was something she’d never done before, but she did it without thinking and it was kind of exhilarating. She hit send, biting her lip while she waited for his response.

Fuck, that’s not fair. Now I definitely won’t be able to wait that long.

She smiled, pocketing her phone. Suddenly, she didn’t want to wait until five either. Maybe she could pretend she wasn’t feeling well and get off early.

• • • • • •

At 3:15, she parked her car in the visitor lot at Calum’s apartment building, buzzing herself in with the code he gave her and impatiently waiting for the elevator to take her up to Calum’s floor. She knocked on the door, smirking at Calum’s surprised expression at her early arrival.

He tugged her inside and pinned her against the door. “You’re early,” he mumbled as he kissed her. “Not very nice of you to send me that picture and make me wait,” he murmured against her lips.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” she replied, dropping her bag on the floor and kicking off her shoes as she tugged Calum’s t-shirt over his head, walking him backwards towards his bedroom. He slipped his hands under her thighs, lifting her easily as she hooked her ankles around his waist. He carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him before setting her down.

“Clothes off,” he growled. “Now.”

• • • • • •

Parker lay on Calum’s tattooed chest, drawing patterns on it with her finger. “You’ve never told me what these mean,” she said quietly, her fingertip tracing over the roman numerals on his left collarbone.

Calum’s breath hitched. He wasn’t used to sharing personal details about his life, especially the meaning behind that tattoo in particular.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she responded. “If you don’t want to.”

He appreciated her understanding, but he reminded himself that if he wanted Parker to get to know him, if he wanted to be honest and open with her, he was going to have to start somewhere, and here was as good a place as any. He wanted her to know, he just didn’t like talking about it. Calum tried to relax, placing a kiss to the top of Parker’s head. “Things are about to get heavy, doll. You sure you’re ready for it?”

Calum took a deep breath. He’d only told this story once in his life, and not in a very long time. “When I was seventeen, I went through some shit,” he began, trying to condense the details as much as possible to get it over with. “I started hanging out with some rough people and I got into some pretty messed up shit for a while. I just felt out of place, like I wasn’t going anywhere with my life and everything was against me. The boys were gonna be going off to college and I wasn’t—I just felt like an outsider watching my life go by without me. I was miserable. I put up a hell of a fight with Gram—I was a nightmare, honestly. I don’t think she knew what to do with me, but the boys brought me out of it. I found out later in the year that my mum killed herself when I was a baby. Right in front of me. That’s why Gram raised me.” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his jaw. “It was the worst year of my life. Got a tattoo of that year to remind me that I never wanted to feel like that again.”

Parker bit her lip, her chest aching at the thought of what Calum had been through. It occurred to her that she really didn’t know anything about him. She didn’t know how to respond, so she pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand, snuggling closer. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay,” he replied. “I’m glad you know now.” He slipped out from under her, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow so he could meet her eyes.

“Thanks for telling me,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “And for trusting me.”

Calum couldn’t stop the next words from falling out of his mouth. He knew it might be too fast, but he didn’t care. He tucked a strand of Parker’s hair behind her ear and let his fingers trail down the curve of her jaw. “I’m in love with you,” he said quietly.

Parker looked up at him with wide eyes, part of her unsure if she had heard him right. His face was serious, his dark eyes never leaving her face as his fingers stroked along the skin of her cheek and jaw. When he saw her expression, he laughed softly. “Never thought I’d say that to any girl, honestly. But I do,” he said. “I love you.”

Parker’s mind was reeling. She hadn’t known for sure until that moment that she felt the same way. She had fallen for him so quickly, and his confession made her sure of what she already knew—she loved him, too.

Parker leaned forward, moving close to him. She rested her hand on his face, cupping his cheek and pressing her lips to his. She closed her eyes, feeling him relax under her and relishing in the softness of his lips. She pulled away only slightly, their lips still brushing gently. “I love you, too,” she murmured.

Calum smiled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. They lay like that for a while, Calum just holding her close, neither of them saying anything.

Finally, Parker broke the silence. “So,” she started, “does this mean I’m your girl?”

Calum laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’ve always been my girl.”

» » » » » »

Parker slept over at Calum’s often over the next month, the drawers in his dresser and his bathroom slowly becoming home to some of her things. It made him smile every time he opened a drawer and his clothes smelled like her perfume, or he found pieces of her clothing while he was folding his laundry. He was head over heels for her.

They were making out on the couch one Thursday night, a movie playing long forgotten in the background. Parker was in nothing but a pair of shorts, her shirt and bra having been discarded, when she heard the familiar click of the automatic lock on Calum’s door. There were only three other people besides herself who had the code for his apartment, and they had a habit of never knocking. Parker scrambled to find her shirt before whoever was about to walk in saw her half-naked, but she had tossed it halfway across the room and she saw the three familiar faces of Calum’s best friends long before she could reach it. She did her best to cover herself, but her face turned bright red.

“Ah, fuck! Sorry, P. Didn’t know you were here,” Mikey stammered, covering his eyes. He turned around, attempting to get the other two to cover theirs while she dressed.

“It’s fine,” she laughed lightly. “We should know better, I guess, since you guys apparently don’t know the meaning of knocking.” It wasn’t the first time they’d walked in on her less than fully clothed.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Michael turned to Calum.

“Forgot what?”

“Seriously dude? It’s wing night. Last Thursday of the month. We’ve been doing this for years,” Luke rolled his eyes, setting a huge bag full of takeout containers on the island in the kitchen.

“Shit, is it Thursday? Yeah, I forgot,” Calum admitted, running a hand through his hair.

Parker swiped her car keys off the counter and grabbed her bag. “It’s okay, I’ll go. See you on Saturday?” she asked, pressing a kiss to Calum’s cheek.

“You can stay, P. There’s lots of food,” Mikey offered, gesturing to the bag.

“Thanks, Mikey, but I should get going anyway. I’ve gotta work tomorrow. Later, guys!”

The boys waved and Calum stood, following Parker to the door. “Text me when you’re home,” he murmured, pulling her in for a hug and kissing her temple.

“You know I’ll forget.”

“I know,” he smiled, ducking his head and pressing his lips to hers softly. “I love you.”

“I never get tired of hearing that,” she smiled, closing the door behind her. Calum made his way back into the living room.

“What’s on Saturday?” Michael asked, licking barbeque sauce off his fingers.

Calum collapsed onto the couch and reached for a chicken wing. “I’m supposed to have dinner with Parker’s parents.”

All at once, the three boys looked at Calum with raised eyebrows. He waved them off with a scoff. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just dinner.”

“I’d say it’s a pretty big deal, dude. If you’re meeting her parents, things are serious with P and you wanna make a good impression,” Luke pointed out.

“Can we not talk about this?” Calum snapped, a little more harshly than he intended.

Calum wasn’t the type of guy you bring home to meet your parents, and he knew it. He wanted to impress them, even if Parker wasn’t exceptionally close with her family. But he had a feeling in his gut that this dinner wasn’t going to go well. Calum knew how to be polite and charming, but he didn’t exactly have a shining resumé full of impressive accomplishments. He barely graduated high school. He knew Parker was too good for him, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried that her parents would think the same thing, too.

“What’s wrong with you?” Luke cocked his head, giving him a puzzled look. “Are you really that nervous to meet them?”

Calum sighed. “I don’t know, mate. I’m not really nervous, I just—she’s this incredible person, she’s got a huge heart and she saves lives, for fuck’s sake. I barely finished high school, I work at a record store, and I’m not exactly a nice guy. I don’t see them being too thrilled when they meet me.” He took a long swig of his beer, then set it down on the coffee table and leaned his head back against the couch.

“Why do you care what they think of you?” Ashton questioned, turning to him. “Parker doesn’t care, so why should they? She loves you, man,” he added. “That’s all that matters.”

Calum took a deep breath. “I hope you’re right.”

» » » » » »

Parker was loading groceries into her car when she heard her phone ring. She answered it, propping it between her ear and her shoulder.

“Hey, mom,” she answered, seeing her mother’s caller ID before she answered. “What’s up?”

“Hi, honey. I just wanted to call and make sure we were still on for Saturday. Dad and I are excited to meet Calum.”

“I’m excited for you to meet him, too,” she breathed. And she was. Things were going so well with him, and it had been a long time since Parker had been with someone long enough to introduce him to her parents.

“We’ll meet you there at seven?” her mother confirmed.

“Can’t wait,” Parker said before hanging up.

» » » » » »

Calum had to work Saturday morning, rolling out of bed reluctantly at 7:45 after an unexpectedly late night fooling around with his guitar. He had lost track of time and it was past two when he finally went to bed. Duke sighed heavily at Calum’s sudden movement, turning around in a circle and finding a new comfortable position among his pillows.

“I wish my life was as easy as yours, big man,” Calum mumbled, scratching his dog behind the ears.

He showered and dressed in his usual work attire of black boots, jeans and a band tee, grabbing a coffee on the way into the store. The morning was typical for a Saturday, busier than during the week but nothing crazy. Tom usually came in after lunch, leaving Calum to open the store by himself and shutting himself in his office for the afternoon to do paperwork, only emerging to allow Calum to take his lunch break. Calum was ringing through a customer when Tom stormed out of his office, looking angrier than usual. He wasn’t generally a happy guy so it wasn’t uncommon for him to be in a bad mood, but Calum wondered what had happened that had him suddenly so pissed off.

“Calum, how many times do I have to ask you to put these boxes in the attic?” he demanded angrily, kicking a cardboard box of overstock out of his path.

“I’m with a customer, Tom,” he gritted out, seconds away from losing his cool.

Calum handed his customer the bag with his purchase, nodding, and the guy couldn’t leave the store quick enough, sensing the tension among the two men.

Tom barely waited until the guy was out the door before he started in on Calum again. “You work for me, kid, remember? All I have to do is say the word and you’re out on your ass,” he spat.

Something in Calum’s brain snapped and he felt the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. He’d had enough of Tom treating him like shit when he was the only reliable employee Tom had.

“If you would get off your ass and give me a hand instead of leaving me out here to do everything myself, maybe I’d have time to put your fucking order away,” he replied sharply. He should have regretted what he said, because he knew there’d be hell to pay for talking back to his boss like that, but Calum couldn’t bring himself to care. Tom was a piece of shit and Calum was fed up with it.

Tom’s face turned beet red, his brows furrowing into an angry glare. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect your elders?”

Calum whipped around and without missing a beat, landed a fierce right hook to his boss’s jaw. He fell back into the wall, steadying himself on the doorjamb. He looked utterly shocked.

“Fuck you,” Calum seethed, spitting at Tom’s feet.

Tom straightened, adjusting his tie and adopting a suddenly calm demeanor. “That’s it, Hood. You’re done. Get out of my store.”

“Gladly,” Calum replied smoothly. “Let’s see how long you stay in business with no one but your lazy ass to run this place,” he shot back, fishing his key out of his pocket and slamming it on the counter in front of the man. He stormed into the back, yanking his leather jacket off its hook and lighting a cigarette before he was even out the door.

• • • • • •

Calum drove around aimlessly for the better part of an hour with no destination in mind, listening to Coldplay and lighting one cigarette after another in an attempt to clear his head and calm him down. Once he realized it wasn’t helping, he decided the only thing that would make him feel better was going to see Gram. He didn’t want to stress Parker out with his problems until after he’d talked it out with Gram.

He let himself in the house, the smell of banana bread filling his nose. Calum entered the kitchen where Gram was doing dishes, spotting the fresh-baked loaf cooling on the stove.

He sighed heavily as soon as she came into his view, feeling most of his anger melt away almost instantly. “Hey, Gram,” he greeted, kissing her on the cheek and taking a seat at the kitchen table.

“Hi dear,” she replied, smiling. “I woke up this morning and I just had a feeling you’d be coming to see me today.” She dried her hands on a dishtowel and cut two slices of bread, setting them on a plate and joining Calum at the table. “You look down, baby. What’s wrong?”

Calum sighed. “I got fired.”

“Oh, honey,” Gram said sympathetically. “What happened?”

“I let Tom have it,” he said, reaching for a slice of banana bread and taking a bite. “He pissed me off and I tried to stay calm, but then he started talking shit about mum and I just lost it,” Calum shook his head. “I hit him,” he said guiltily, dropping his head.

“Listen to me, Calum,” Gram said, lifting his chin to look at her. “This is for the best. That rat of a man has been nothing but horrible to you since he took over the store, and he doesn’t deserve you. And he definitely deserved that punch,” she added with a wink, earning a small smile from Calum. She placed her hand on top of his, squeezing it. “You’ll find something better. And who knows,” she added, “maybe this an opportunity to work on your music.”

Calum smiled. He knew he could always count on Gram to lift his spirits, even when he was having the worst day. She packed up the rest of the banana bread in a Tupperware container, saving two slices for herself, and sent Calum home.

When he got back to his apartment, he had completely forgotten about dinner with Parker’s parents that night until his phone went off with a reminder. He groaned. Being social and making a good impression was the last thing he wanted to do tonight, and despite Gram’s effort to cheer him up, he felt anger bubble up inside him at the whole situation. How was he supposed to impress Parker’s parents when he didn’t even have a job? He was already stressed enough about meeting them, and he wondered how this day could possibly get worse.

• • • • • •

Parker spent Saturday morning cleaning her apartment and catching up on some reading while Calum was at work, killing time until the dinner with her parents. She hadn’t heard from Calum since early that morning when he had sent her a good morning text, but he was at work until four so she wasn’t expecting to hear from him until lunchtime. She decided she would bring him a coffee, being that it was nearing his break.

She stopped in at Enzo’s, ordered his coffee, and crossed the street, the door chiming when she entered Rudy’s.

No one was out front when she came in which struck her as odd. Calum was almost always either standing at the register and sorting through albums on the counter or in among the aisles putting things away and organizing.

“Cal?” she called out, wondering if maybe he was in the back.

A few moments later, Tom emerged. He wore a blank expression, not offering a smile or any kind of greeting to Parker. He was holding an ice pack to his jaw, and Parker noticed a large red mark under the pack.

“Uh, hi,” Parker said awkwardly. “Is Calum here?”

Tom scoffed, a sneer curling his lips. “Calum doesn’t work here anymore,” he said flatly.

“Oh,” Parker frowned, confused. “Okay, thanks,” she said, turning on her heel to leave.

Fifteen minutes later she arrived at Calum’s apartment, knocking on the door gently before opening it and stepping inside. Duke was at the door, wagging his tail and running circles around her feet until she bent down to pet him. She rubbed the little dog’s head, setting the coffee, now getting cold, on the kitchen counter. Parker looked up to find Calum laying on the couch, a beer in his hand.

“Hey,” she said softly, noting immediately that he wasn’t in a good mood. “I stopped by Rudy’s to bring you a coffee for your break, but Tom—he said you didn’t work there anymore,” she explained, brows furrowed in confusion as she made her way over to the couch, sitting cross-legged at the other end and facing him.

“Yeah,” he scoffed, lifting the beer to his lips and taking a long drink. “I don’t,” he stated bluntly.

“What do you mean?”

“I got fired,” he shrugged.

Parker’s shoulders sagged, brows knitting together in concern. “Are—are you okay?”

Calum laughed dryly, his dark eyes meeting hers for the first time since she entered his apartment. They held no warmth—it reminded Parker of the way he looked at her when they first met, and it felt wrong. “I’m unemployed with no education except a high school diploma. I’m fucking fantastic.”

Parker flinched at his words. She hadn’t seen this side of him since before they started dating, and she had forgotten how harsh he could be when he was angry. Parker didn’t like it.

“What can I do?” she asked quietly.

Calum looked away. “Nothing, Parker. There’s nothing you can do.” He stood, finishing his beer and walking to the fridge to get another one.

She stood up and followed him, afraid to ask him any more questions, but she had to know. “Should I cancel tonight? With my parents?”

Calum leaned back against the kitchen counter, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t fancy meeting your parents for the first time and getting to tell them I got fired today,” he responded. “I’ve had a shit day and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Parker hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided that if she couldn’t love Calum through his bad days, she didn’t deserve him at all. She couldn’t be afraid of him when he got like this. So she moved to stand in front of him, taking his beer and setting it down beside him on the counter. He watched her intently, unmoving, while she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured. “You hated that job anyway. We’ll figure this out, I promise.”

Calum sighed deeply, finally wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, resting his chin on top of her head. He felt his anger dissolve a little more when he held her. God, he loved her.

After a few moments of silence, Calum spoke. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Parker pulled away to meet his eyes. “I know,” she assured him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “It’s okay.”

“We’ll still go tonight. I don’t want you to have to cancel.”

“Are you sure?” Parker questioned.

Calum nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

• • • • • •

At 6:40, Calum parked the Charger in front of Parker’s apartment, pocketing his keys as he walked up the steps. After suggesting a quick tumble to help Calum de-stress a little, Parker had gone home to shower and get ready for their dinner. She opened the door, and Calum smiled. She was in a short, forest-green cocktail dress with minimal makeup and a wool coat to cover at least part of her bare legs.

“You look beautiful.”

“So do you,” she teased, kissing him on the cheek. He had worn a simple black button-up and black trousers, trading his signature leather jacket for a long, dark grey trench coat. “You ready to go?” she asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he shrugged. The drive to the restaurant was relatively quiet, the low hum from Calum’s stereo playing throughout the car to break the silence. Calum’s mind was still reeling over this morning’s events, and he was nervous for tonight. Parker didn’t talk about her parents a lot, and while they got along, he got the vibe that they didn’t always see eye-to-eye. Not that he gave a shit what anyone thought of him, but Calum wanted them to like him, for Parker’s sake. He had an uneasy feeling. He hoped it was just nerves, but deep in his chest, he knew better.

Parker seemed to notice the uncomfortable expression on Calum’s face when they pulled into the parking lot.

“Hey,” she turned to him, cupping his cheeks in her hands and turning him to face her. “Relax. They’re going to love you. And even if they don’t, I don’t care. I love you. That’s the only important thing.” She pressed her lips to his softly before getting out of the car. He knew her heart was in the right place, but her words didn’t make him feel any better. The last thing he wanted was to be the thing to come between Parker and her parents.

She grasped his hand, lacing her fingers with his as they entered the restaurant. Parker spotted her parents at a booth against the far wall. She told the hostess that their company was already seated, and Calum followed behind her as she weaved through the restaurant. When they approached the table, Calum let go of Parker’s hand as her father stood to his feet.

“Richard,” he stated, extending his hand.

Calum swallowed. “Nice to meet you, sir, I’m Calum,” he replied, firmly shaking his hand. He leaned to his left, making eye contact with Parker’s mother, still sitting in the booth. “Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Daniels,” he said politely, flashing her a smile.

She waved her hands in protest. “Please, just Shari,” she laughed lightly.

Calum let Parker into the booth, sliding in after her. He felt her hand rest on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He placed his hand on top of hers, squeezing it back.

To Calum’s pleasant surprise, dinner started off well. Calum put his most charming face on for Shari, and apparently even women in their mid-fifties couldn’t resist his smile.

“Parker hasn’t told us much about you, Calum—she wanted to give us lots to talk about, I think,” she laughed. “Do you have family here in town?”

Calum’s face fell. He hated this question. Parker could feel him tense up, clearly not wanting to get into the topic of his own parents. Parker cut him off, and he sent her a grateful smile.

“That’s how we met, actually,” she started. “Calum’s grandmother is one of my patients.”

Calum was thankful to Parker for taking over this topic of conversation, and he was happy to let her talk.

He knew the next question was coming, and it was one he was dreading to answer.

“What do you do, Calum?” Richard asked him, taking a sip from his beer glass.

“I, uh—” Calum paused, unsure if he should lie about being fired or make something up and deal with the consequences later. He chose the former, hoping that they didn’t visit the store by some chance and find out he was lying. “I work at Rudy’s,” he answered, as confidently as he could manage. “It’s an old music store downtown. Been there since I was in high school.”

“Oh, a musician?” Shari raised her eyebrows.

Calum chuckled nervously. “No, not quite,” he corrected.

“You must be a manager then, if you’ve been there that long?” Richard questioned, his blue eyes boring into Calum’s. This was exactly what Calum was afraid of. “Uh, no, not a manager,” he answered awkwardly.

“So you’re working there while you’re in college?” he asked, brows furrowing in mild confusion.

“Dad,” Parker warned.

“No, I never went to college,” Calum answered honestly. “School has never been my thing.”

Richard bristled. “Well, you can’t expect to—”

“Okay, moving on,” Parker said loudly, interrupting her dad and attempting to change the subject. The subject of conversation for the rest of dinner was decided by Parker, and she kept her father’s pressing questions at bay by talking far too much, which Calum appreciated. There were no other outbursts, but the rest of the dinner was undoubtedly tense. It was obvious that while Shari didn’t seem to feel as strongly as her husband, Richard did not approve of Calum’s choice of career.

It was true, school was never Calum’s strong suit. Even if he had decided to go to college, the only thing he ever had any interest in was music. Unfortunately, the closest school with a decent music program was hours away and he could never leave Gram, so the only thing that made sense to him was just not going. Gram fought him on it, but he was as stubborn as she was, and in the end he had stayed.  

But Richard had a point. How could he expect to support himself and a family if he ever had one on a couple bucks over minimum wage? Sure, he had inherited a good chunk of money from his grandfather, but he couldn’t rely on that forever. Parker had her life together. She was smart and successful and she supported herself. Calum had had the same job since he was fourteen years old, and now he didn’t have one at all.

The conversation they had at dinner ran through his mind over and over, and it affected him far more than he wanted it to. Calum was conflicted—before today, he had convinced himself that he didn’t care what anyone but Parker thought of him, but the more he thought about his life, his future, his goals—he realized he didn’t really have any. He loved Parker, and she loved him, but Calum suddenly wasn’t sure that love was enough. He had nothing else to offer her. He was quiet the entire drive home back to Parker’s place, his thoughts running a mile a minute. He wasn’t even aware of his feet moving as he followed Parker up the stairs to her front door.

“Cal?” Parker had been trying to get his attention as he stared blankly ahead. His eyes snapped into focus and he turned to look at her.

“Sorry,” he shook his head, dazed. “What?”

“I said, are you coming inside?” she repeated. Her brows furrowed at the pained expression on his face. “Are you okay?”

“I—no, I’m not,” he admitted, dropping his gaze to the ground.

Parker looked confused. “No, you’re not coming in, or no, you’re not okay?”

He lifted his eyes to look at her again. “No, I’m not coming in.” Calum ignored her frown, and he ignored the tightness in his chest and the pain stinging the backs of his eyes, and he ignored every fiber in his body screaming at him not to say what he was about to say.

Calum had finally let someone in, let himself feel, let himself love. His heart felt whole with Parker, and he knew that what he was about to do would shatter it, probably for good this time. But regardless of how he felt in his heart, his head was telling him he needed to do this, for her. She was worth more than what he could give her. “I can’t do this,” he said, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “We—we can’t do this anymore.”

Parker’s face fell as she tilted her head to the side and took a step back. “What do you mean?”

He gave her a pleading look. “You know what I mean, love. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Parker’s eyes turned glassy, fighting back tears that had formed almost instantly at his words. “Why?” she demanded. “Because of my dad? I told you before, I don’t care what they think—”

“I do!” he cut her off, shouting angrily. His dark eyes bore into her steel grey ones. “He was right. I have nothing to offer you. I don’t even have my own life together, I’m not going to ruin yours.”

“You’re not ruining anything!” she yelled back, furious at him for giving up on them so easily. “You got fired, so what? We can figure this out together, I’ll help you,” she pleaded.

Calum shook his head. “No, Parker. I can’t ask you to give up your life while I search for mine. This is my mess. You deserve someone who can provide for you, and that’s not me.”

“So that’s it? You’re just gonna quit?” she asked, the tears she had been holding back rolling down her cheeks. “Please don’t do this,” she begged.

“I can’t, Parker,” he shook his head. “I’m no good for you. I’m not going to drag you down with me.” Calum took a step towards her and raised his hand, wanting nothing more than to brush the tears from under her eyes, but he thought better of it, lowering his hand back down to his side. If he let himself get close to her, he might change his mind, and he couldn’t do that. He was doing this for her. Even though it killed him to lose her, he was trying desperately not to be selfish.

He turned and descended the few steps of her front porch. He stopped at the driver’s door, looking one last time at the tear-soaked face of the girl he loved. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. When she closed her eyes, lip trembling and body shaking, he got in his car and drove away before he changed his mind. I’m doing this for her, he kept repeating to himself, over and over. He had to convince himself that this was what was best for her.

taglist: @treatallwithkindness @oopsiedoopsie23 @tunnnelvision @wildflower-mmr

[peterpan-ouat-imagines]

In Hell I Will: Part 5

Writing Prompt #9: I gotta admit, that turns me on

A days after Emma risking me being killed I still am not talking to her.  I can’t believe she put me in such a fucked up situation.

I get a text from Henry asking to meet up and I accept.  Ten minutes later I go to Granny’s.

“What’s new with the quill?” I ask when I see him.

“Not much to be honest.  That isn’t why I came to talk to you,” he tells me shyly and I look confused.

“Then what?” I ask.

“I know you know about what happened with Pan,” he tells me and I gulp not sure where this is leading, “I bring that up because I think he wants me again,”

“What? Why?” I ask nervously afraid I’m about to be caught.

“I found this by my bed in my grandparents loft,” he shows me a note that says “Sweet dreams” signed by him.

I gasp knowing that was meant for me, “what do you think it means?” I ask.

“I don’t know but there isn’t anyone else who he would want as much as me, after all, he was going to kill me to live forever.  It makes sense. This could be a warning that he’s going to try to get my heart again.  I have to show this to everyone else.” he tells me urgently.

“No!” I exclaim and he looks at me weird.  I give myself a calmer appearance, “No that isn’t a good idea.  They’re already worried about so much else.  I can help you figure it out.  I want to be useful.  Anyway you promised me you wouldn’t leave me alone,” I explain a little shaky.

“You are right they do have a lot on there plate. And I’m sorry about leaving you out.  Where should we start?”

“What would his place be he goes to or works at here?” I ask him knowing the answer.

“My granddads shop!” He grabs my hand and runs down the street and I can’t tell whether I’m excited from him touching me or just being included in something I know isn’t a hoax.

I start counting everything that could go wrong in my head and know I made a dreadful mistake. He could find something of mine. He could discover the truth between us. He could never forgive me if I did. As he grabs the door I become a stress ball panicking about what he will find and more.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean after all he is after you.  You might not like what you find either,” I warn him trying to get him to back off.

“It doesn’t matter what I find, what matters is I figure out what he is up to,” he tells me determined and the bell rings as we walk in.

As he searches for clues I stand not to far behind him making sure that he does not find anything that could get me caught.  He’s so nice and inclusive it makes me want to rethink choosing Pan.

“Y/n, go to the office if we separate we can do this faster,” Henry tells me.

“It might be best if we do it together.  To make sure the other didn’t miss anything,” I suggest doubting he’ll agree.

“Y/n, I know you’re new to the whole finding evidence thing, but something about searching is splitting up to find things faster,” he tells me urging me away and i feel less wanted by him.

“What am I even looking for?” I ask trying to play along.

“Something that could mean danger or something about me,” he tells me.

I gulp as I head to a room that is a distance from Henry unable to track what he might find.

I scan the room knowing in my head that the office is where personal things are so there’s a higher chance of finding something before Henry... hopefully.

I look at the desk scurrying through everything trying to find something that points to me, “There has to be something,” I whisper to myself.

After flipping through papers and looking in drawers I come across a envelope with my name on it, “Bingo,” I open it expecting something showing his sweet side and it’s titled Plan for me. That is so sweet that I make him want to have a real plan with a real future.

I start to read it but the format isn’t in paragraphs.  It is in bullet points as if he was taking notes on something to study.

”Y/n, is interesting, she’s mysterious and kind.  She knows how to catch my eye and not afraid to get in a little trouble.  She wants to help her family but can’t. She’s interested and the key to escaping.  Wrapped around my finger and able to steal from her. Her heart is strong I can tell, just what I need and can get once she is in love with me she will gladly hand it over.”

The paper slips from my hand and my heart drops. “He tricked me? How could he? How could I be so stupid! I knew feelings like that were too good to be true,” I shove the paper back in the envelope and place it where it was trying to keep myself in one piece.

“The favor,” I say to myself. “The favor he wanted from the beginning is going to be my heart,”

I sit at the desk trying to dig for more and there’s a sketch of me which I don’t even know what to think. I am so overwhelmed and don’t know what to do I take the backdoor and run away.  Being a hero isn’t the lifestyle for me.  Running away from my problems is.

About an hour later I’m by the well where me and Pan had our first rendezvous and crying... still.  I hear a branch snap, “Who’s there?” I jump and start wiping away my tears.

“Just me,” Henry says, “Where did you go?  I went to check on you and you were gone. I got worried,” he sits next to me, “Were you crying?” he asks looking at my puffy eyes.

“Yeah and before you ask why, it’s because I found out someone isn’t who I thought they were... at all.  Constant disappointment seems to follow me.” I sniffle.

He hugs me. I look at him and he looks at me, staring each other in the eyes. We both slowly lean in and he kisses me.  It’s soft and sweet.  When our lips part I don’t feel what I thought I would feel.  Not a warm giddy feeling.  Not overcome with lust and going back for a kiss with more passion.  It’s just a kiss.  

I look away from him embarrassed.

“What’s wrong now,” he asks me.

“Henry I like you, I do, but something just feels off about us,” I’m now even more embarrassed I just let him down, “I have to go,” I run off feeling horrible between telling someone I don’t like them the right way and being used by someone who I do.

I don’t even know where to go.  Everyone is leaving me out to be forgotten and I can’t go to Pan.  I just start running to nowhere I really know.  

I trip over a branch and fall hard not able to get up, “Help! Help!” I yell hoping someone can hear me.  I reach for my phone but it’s across the trail and the branch is stuck.  I try to pull my leg out but it’s wedged too deep.

Someone comes running over several minutes later, “Y/n! Are you okay?” Hook answers.  He helps untangle my leg from the branch and sit more comfortably, “What happened?”

I can’t help but cry about everything.  I unravel about it all.  How I was betrayed, how arrived to Storybrooke, it all comes out.  I even let out how the mystery person was Peter Pan slip.

“Pan?” he asks, “When I see that boy I’m gonna-” he starts getting angry.

“Hook no, he’s my problem, I have to deal with him,” I tell him.

“Everything you just shared about going to a witch you found and dealt with on your own and having to put up with that demon.  All you ever do is try to solve things by yourself, you need to be able to let others help you get through things,” he tells me gently.

He helps me up and I stand steady, “Hook, will you do me a favor?  Please don’t tell anyone what I told you.  Especially the part about Pan.”

“But y/n-” he begins.

“I know.  They could help me and I probably could use there help.  I just don’t want to deal with there disapproval of him,” I explain,  “You and I know and together we can think of something,” I tell him.

“For now, but at some point you do,” he tells me and I nod.

It makes me think of what the witch who cast me to Storybrooke told me before I left.  Family isn’t always blood, it disguises itself and once you find it you don’t let go. Maybe this is what she meant.  Sure Hook is a pirate who I would never have approached if seen on the street.  But having him pushed in my life and the type of connection  we share.  There is no one I’ve felt more in touch with and understood by.  Also it puts into perspective what Emma did with me.  I hate how she risked my life but if I knew that someone like Hook might die, I’d go to extreme circumstances to try to keep him safe as well.

We walk back to Main Street and an arrow flies right past us barely missing my face.  My eyes follow it and it’s aiming right at Mr. Gold.  I get terrified and look back at where it came from and a man tall and tan with nice thick jet black hair is standing there.  He’s wearing a sling of arrows and holding a bow and looks very angry.  Seconds later Belle runs out trying to talk him down. But he looks way too determined to listen.  

We get out of there and head to the normal meeting spot, the apartment.  I sigh knowing Emma will be there and I’ll have to face her at one point or another.  

“Why does no one let me do anything?” I ask him once we get there, “I feel like everyone is off trying to help and I’m just assigned nothing,” I huff.

“It’s not intentional,” he tells me, “And you have helped, you saved Ruby and have gone around looking for clues.  You knew where to start with trying to beat Hades and gone with others like Henry to find items we need,” I roll my eyes, “It’s true,”

Emma Regina and Robin all come in.  When Emma sees me she comes up, “Y/n I want to say something,”

“Me first.  Emma, it’s okay.  I know that you were trying to save your mom, if it were me I would be doing anything to save someone I care about so much too,”

“Y/n, you need to know that yes that was a reason that I brought you.  But I also did because I knew you would be able to handle it.  I knew you were brave and strong enough,” she tells me.

All of this sharing of feelings makes me feel so guilty that I’m keeping all these secrets from everyone.

“When will everyone else be here?” I ask.

“Mary Margaret and David weren’t that far behind us,” Regina says.

“Okay, there’s something I have to tell you all but I want everyone to be here,” I say nervously.

Later on that evening everyone is back except for Gold and Zelena which is weird.

“I have to share something with you all,” I gulp nervously as they stare at me waiting to speak.

“I wasn’t in trouble when you found me.  I know that when I came here I said I needed help because I’m in danger and could get hurt.  But that isn’t true.  The truth is I knew about magic well before I came here.  When I was little my dad walked out and social service took me away because my mom obsessively used magic to the point she hurt me when I tried to stop her from fighting someone she hates. She told me it wasn’t intentional but deep down I knew she hated how much I wanted her to ease up on magic.  It’s dangerous to have magic used on me since that happened.  Anyway I went to a witch because I wanted to find my family.  The witch told me that family isn’t always blood and dropped me here instead of who raised me,” I explain.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?  We could help you find your parents,” Mary Margaret tells me.

“I was embarrassed okay. I didn’t want you to know my father couldn’t take the responsibility of raising me and my mom did what she did.  Anyway there’s more.  I’ve been seeing Peter Pan.” I pause and wait for them to react but they look confused, “What I mean is, Pan found me the first day, and I know it’s wrong but we were together and I really enjoyed it,”

“What?!” David exclaims and I’m not shocked by how mad he sounds.

“Me and Pan had something going.  I snuck out to see him he snuck in to see me.  Which is why Henry found that note saying sweet dreams.  It was left for me.” I look down feeling all the sadness rush as I am about to retell the betrayal, “But he used me.  I was looking through his stuff and found out that I’m just his plan to get a heart and go back.  He tricked me!” I choke and once again cry unable to fight back the tears.

I wait for there judgmental looks and telling me it was an awful idea but they just stand there expressionless, “Say something!” I exclaim.

“I understand why you hid this from us,” Mary Margaret says and she comes over to comfort me, “But you should have told us sooner, we could have helped with finding your family,”

“And don’t worry about Pan, we will take care of him,” David adds, “what matters is your safe,”

“No no no. I don’t want him to be hurt. This is like Zelena and Hades. She’s in love with HADES and you are all perfectly okay with it!” I defend him.

“No we aren’t,” Regina says.

“You gave her the okay to be with him!” I say angry, “there has to be a way to deal with this without pan getting hurt,”

“What did the paper say?” Robin asks changing the subject.

“It was like a list of my qualities and how I am and have acted. It was like while we were spending time together he was studying me. But the last part was how once I fall in love with him I’ll gladly give him my heart and how I’m already wrapped around his finger,” I explain.

“It’s okay we will figure something out. You’ll be able to go back with us he isn’t coming,” Emma assured me.

I nod nervously, “I need to go for a walk,” I make a quick exit leaving them to talk about probably how dumb I am.

I go for a stroll to the docks and sit criss cross looking down in the soul filled water.

Someone sits next to me, “Look I’m not in the mood to be judged-“ when I turn my head it’s pan. I scoff and get up and walk away.

He follows me, “Hey what’s wrong,” he asks clearly not knowing I know the truth.

“Stop it pan we are through!” I tell him angry without turning around and keep walking.

“Y/n! What happened?” He asks.

I stand where I am for a moment before I turn around, “What happened? What happened was the guy I thought I might have loved was using me all along! I saw the paper with your “findings“ and “observations” of me! I know why you really approached me that first day!” I storm off.

After I walk a few feet he starts talking again, “You know your smarter than I thought you were. I thought I’d be able to get you to believe it till the end. But I haven’t given up. I still believe your feelings right now are strong enough to want to give me a heart,” he admits.

The pain worsens as he admits the truth, “So everything! Everything was just a ruse to go back?!” I ask afraid of the answer.

“Not everything. I do have feelings for you but going back is more important than love. Love is weakness darling,”

“I’m not doing it pan! I can’t!” I tell him.

“Why who’s alive that came down here that cares about you? Hook? Henry? It won’t take long for them to think you can be tossed out,” he tells me.

“Tell me, I need to hear you say that I was nothing but an excuse to go back up,” I tell him.

“Darling you never were meant to be anything more,” he tells me.

“Meant?” I ask.

“I did develop feelings for you. But once it felt close enough to act different and rethink my plan I realized I was in too deep and created that list to remind me why I pursued you. That doesn’t change the fact I still need your heart,”

“You selfish, mean, double crossing, coward! You could have something if you tried! How could you just let this all go! I could have helped you find a better way!  Helped you love!  And before you say how much I’m like the Charming’s and shit for saying that, I’m not!  I’m me and not afraid to mess with you like you messed with my heart!  You aren’t the only one who knows how to play games and I will beat you at yours!”

“I gotta admit, that turns me on” he says.

“What? Me calling you all those names and threatening you?” I ask.

“No. You standing up to me and showing me how devious and cruel you can be. It shows how like minded we are.  I haven’t met anyone so like me as you. But you should know that being selfish and mean are my signature traits so I take those as compliments,” he smirks his stupid face.

“Well if your turned on now your about to be cranked up by the time I’m done telling you-!” I start shouting.

He pulls me in and kisses me and I push him off me, “I’m not going to makeout with you! I’m mad at you and want you to leave me alone! I’ve already had you let me down enough!”

“You do want it too. We both know that,” he gets closer.

“Stop leaning in! You’re only making it worst! I just want you gone you-“ I start yelling but he shuts me up with a kiss again but this time I can’t help but give in. His bossy clever demeanor makes me feel the same way.

I melt into his kiss and lean against the dock building. I open the door and pull him inside both of us wanting more. We makeout passionately inside the wooden building. I feel his breath on my skin as his lips trail down my neck. He slowly slides his hand up my spine under my shirt grabbing me tight. I take off his tie and jacket getting him out of his suit he wears very well. He slides my shirt off and undoes my shorts yanking them down as if there wasn’t a moment to spare. I start stroking him and he groans as he gets my bra and panties off me tossing them away. I take off his underwear and force my tongue in his mouth as they twist together. I feel him suck my tongue as I moan and he slides in me. Us being fiercely in sync together couldn’t feel any better. He thrusts in me hard each time and his mouth ends up on my chest sucking my boob and I moan again as he makes me feel that good. We keep going and going him groaning and feeling incredible inside me. Faster and harder he goes as time passes.

“Peter, I think I’m about to,” I tell him.

“Ugh so am I,” he tells me.

With another thrust he orgasms inside me and I do the same with him.

He rolls off me both our sweaty bodies laying next to each other.

“Fuck that was amazing,” he breathes heavy.

“It really was. For someone who has spent a lot of time on an island with only boys you are really good,” I tell him.

“I’ve had more experience than you might think,” he tells me.

After a moment of silence I talk again, “Peter this can’t change anything,” I tell him.

“Peter? When did we get on a first name basis?” He asks me ignoring the important part.

“Are you listening? This can’t change how I feel!” I tell him more demanding.

“Can’t isn’t the same thing as doesn’t. It’s okay. I’m okay with it. I know how to keep you and go back. It’s a plan I have thought of but didn’t want to admit because I knew if you were gone it would be harder to move on. But your mine and I won’t let that change,” he explains.

I get up and start looking for my clothes to get dressed not answering him not taking another risk.

He stands up and goes after me, he puts his hand on my shoulder and turns me around, “I’m not playing around this time. I would love you but love held me back from my potential long ago. This time it’s different there’s nothing for me here,”

“So are you saying what we have... is love?” I ask hoping he says what I want.

“What we have is real. We are so alike too. Both have a deep past. We both aren’t afraid to say what we think. Both are sneaky and want something more,” he convinces.

“I... I need to go,” I run out before I make a choice that’s wrong. I see a text from Emma saying that Zelena has gone missing and I’m quick to retreat to them out of concern of her. Why am I so worried about someone I don’t even know that well?

When I’m there with everyone, so is Hades. That leaves me even more confused. He talks about how Zelena was supposed to meet him for dinner but never showed which gets everyone suspicious. There’s a note that says how she’s been kidnapped and to meet at Granny’s at 8.

We do that and when we walk in I’m shocked by what I find. Gold and Pan have Zelena held captive and I stare at Pan in disbelief but he looks at me as if to say “this is the only way.” Gold tells Hades to destroy some contract or Zelena will be hurt. Hades by everyone’s surprise destroys it immediately yet even though Gold disappears Pan goes to grab her heart which has a protection spell on it.

He walks up to me, and Henry steps in front of me, “You aren’t gonna touch her,” he says seriously to him looking him in the eye.

Everyone starts defending me which catches me off guard.

“Pan if you think your going to take her life think again,” Regina stands up for me.

I gently move Henry aside, “You guys I have to keep you all safe,” I tell them. I then step towards Pan,”I know you said that you had a plan to go up there and keep me too. But we both know you lie to get what you want. Whatever you do please don’t hurt them,” I tell him.

“Y/n, remember that favor I said you would owe me?” I nod, “Well I’m about to tell you it. I want your heart,” even though I was expecting it I get very afraid and step back slowly thinking this is all too real and scary for me.

“You aren’t doing that. Y/n is never going to give you her heart,” Hook adds in.

As everyone stands up for me Emma ushers me out the door to hide me, “Emma I can’t hide. He’s going to find me,” I walk back in, “Everyone stop!” They try to block my path but I squeeze through, “Pan, you told me you loved me. Is that true?” I ask serious.

“Of course it’s not!” David exclaims.

“David, let him answer,” I tell him sternly.  I look back at Pan.

“I told you how intense I felt about you.  I wrote that list to distract me from those emotions but it didn’t matter.  I know you’re mine and I know you love me too,” he tells me.

“And because of how I feel about you, I want you to take my heart,” I tell him.

“What?” He asks surprised.

I reach inside my chest and pull out a glowing red heart.  I hand it to him.

“Maybe telling me how I’m just like you was part of your plan but either way have it.  It’ll keep me from feeling,”

“Y/n, what the bloody  hell are you doing?!” Hook exclaims and goes to grab it but I pull it away.

“It doesn’t matter if he takes it!  I just don’t want it anymore,” I uncurl my fingers from it and let roll it onto the floor, “It’s a liability that I’ve had for far too long,” I walk out of the diner without another word.

[thegreatlarryfisherman]

The Parallel Is Painful. The Progress is Powerful.

It's the inner demons knocking again. I had to write this for my future self.. because days like today, I won't always be able to pinpoint this feeling.

This is an awful thing to say but lately, it's felt like kicking all over again and I wasn't ready to feel that.. reality. That twinge. I'm okay. Sobriety still in tact obviously, but the feeling is a very specifically triggering one that replays those sweat filled nights in the back of my eyelids when I go to sleep. I can finally look into the eyes of my siblings and I love them so much, but my brother took my hands before he left. And he said "Please don't get depressed again." It was unexpected and I tried to sort of just allow the information to process, you know? We had been laughing and taking pictures before that, they were on their way out the door when suddenly he goes, "You have your own place.. You live on your own. No one thought this would happen." And he hugged me, and was like "Don't cry after we leave. Just don't get depressed again."

We took a bunch more pictures, and they leave.. and I was okay for a minute.. but then it hit me. Like, fuck. It's like when I get that sudden urge to text one of my friends and tell them I love them because in my brain, I'm seeing what could happen. I was at a point, living in my own place and.. getting fucked up in the bathroom with my family in the living room of my huge ass apartment really thinking I was thriving and doing the best. I know I have moments where I can see me back in the position I was in when I first tried to live on my own. I didn't have a job, I didn't have photography, I didn't have anything but a lease, a boyfriend, and a grocery list of problems. I was fucked up everyday and trying to stay upright through the evening. My family would make surprise visits to see me and I would be tensed up until I could get a minute to myself to drown out that dead look behind my eyes. Trying to keep this facade up that I was important and that I was a good person. That was eleven fucking years ago.

I went to bed last night, with guilt. Because my older brother, my best friend, you know.. Is scared for me. Begging me to stay mentally sound. I could see the tears in his eyes, my car battery was acting finicky, he didn't even want me to drive him home, because he was scared I'd be on the highway alone. He looked so fucking concerned and in the back of my head, I'm like "Dude Chill. My Buick broke down every time I drove anywhere. This is nothing for me."

It really hit me this morning, this is what he was saying on New Years Eve. I was driving him back to his girlfriend's house and he frowned, looked over at me, and asked: "You're going to spend the New Year alone?" He tried so hard to get me to come home with him.

It's because I've never been alone. It's confusing for my folks, they're used to when I am alone, I'm fucked up. I can't think straight, I can't stand the boredom. I can't be alone with my thoughts. I was so fucking scared that I couldn't be alone, that I just kept getting into relationship after relationship. Crying because I was afraid shit wasn't going to get better, living with my grandparents because I knew it was what was best for me. I was genuinely scared to trust myself to carry myself with control.

So much has changed in ten years. The first five, I was building.. Then that year hit with my granddad and I just.. cancelled the existence of me that let the demons win.. That disassociated me from anything other than work and trying super fucking hard to not end up alone. I think back to the day I realized, I needed to get my shit together-- after I'd gotten wasted and called my ex, black out drunk and begged him to take me back. I was so fucking afraid of being alone and battling the demons of stuff.. Being sleepless, having flashbacks, etc. And I was lucky then. I had roommates, I had my ex who was still my friend, I eventually got into a relationship and I was stable and very calm for a long time. Until the relationship started falling apart and I just wanted to know what was so wrong with me.. Why I was going to end up inevitably alone again? After all the nights I couldn't even fall asleep because I'd have anxiety attacks and have to be held until they stopped.

Moving here, being alone, I wasn't stable at first. Not mentally, not emotionally, not at all. But I'd already learned to stop running from my problems and to be more open about them, so I just kinda put that professional determination to just stay focused.

Now, finally, almost two years later, a year after I got out of my last toxic relationship, I am trying to cope with understanding that.. The way I was living.. It wasn't as bad as it was before sobriety, but it wasn't right. I lost my sense of self preservation. I was living fully off of survival. It took a while to process that, come down from it, and understand that survival isn't a healthy way of living. It's not gonna leave you happy. You've gotta work through shit. My siblings.. They love me, and it's taking a lot of mental fortitude to accept that because I'd been separated from them for so long. I feel guilty for knowing that the thought of them just now finally understanding who I was when they thought I had it all together, and who I am now are the same person-- just rid of all the toxins.

The fear in my older brother's eyes as he watches me navigate being a healthy independent person who can be alone breaks my heart and holds that guilt to me. That remorse.. and it never occurred to me, that he was always saying we're the same... That I've never seen him out of a relationship for an extended period of time without multiple suicide attempts because he can't cope with the stresses of what we went through as kids.. He can't process that trauma, he needs love to keep him stable. So when I looked at him, and he looked at me.. We kinda zeroed into the mirror for a second, and when he smiled at me.. I knew. He's proud of me. More proud than I can be of myself right now because stepping back, I see the scope of ten years. I'm underwhelmed by the process because had I never been so determined to escape my problems in the first place, you can only imagine the shit I could've achieved by now. My therapist says that it will take practice and determination for me to accept that trauma helped shape the lifestyle I led, and that most people who are trying to survive.. Don't recognize what circumstance they've put themselves through and that some people never realize it.

It's supposed to be a good thing but guilt has been a constant lately. I don't want my family to worry about me. Especially considering how much we've all been through. I'm the second oldest and me getting my shit together means if/when my younger siblings or even my older one gets a grip of like.. shame and self destruction for what we were put through as kids, I want them to have someone they can look at and say, "Hey, my sister made it through this. So can I."

Even as I'm underwhelmed at how slow this process of making my dreams come true is because money is such a fucking obstacle and I can only make it so fast while still maintaining balance and health and eating.. I know for the first time in a long time that every time I said "I hope one day it all makes sense..." that it makes more sense now than ever.

There's a purpose beyond myself and that achievement is on the other side of this sinking guilt I get everyday waking up. I can get past that and I don't need to be wedged into healing someone else in a relationship to rid myself of that guilt. It's something I have to process on my own.

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 26 and the epilogue of don’t read the last page are here!

masterpost

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

Thank you to everyone who has been reading and following along with this fic! Your support means the world to me.

november 1st

On the way home from the movie premiere, Anna was strangely quiet, her head against Kristoff’s shoulder and both hands on her stomach. It wasn’t until they were at home once more and he was helping her out of her gown that she said softly, “I don’t want to have the baby here.”

His hands stilled on the laces. “What do you mean here?”

“In LA.”

“But this is where your doctor is,” he said, frowning as she stepped out of the dress.

“Yeah. But I...I don’t know. Maybe this is crazy, but-- well, he mentioned a while back that in case we were ever up visiting your parents and something went wrong, that he used to practice up there, and he knows someone, and…”

Kristoff moved to stand in front of her, cupping her face in his hands as she looked up at him with worried eyes. “Why don’t you want to have the baby here?”

“Just...they’re all going to be there. All the photographers and reporters trying to be the first to get pictures, and I just...I don’t want that to be part of it. I want it to be just us. Do you think...do you think maybe we can figure it out?”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll call my mom tonight, see if we can stay up there with them.”

“But you have clinicals--”

“Just a couple more days, then my exams aren’t til the first week of December. And I still have days off allowed, so after the fourth, we’re good to go.”

She heaved out a sigh of relief. “I’ll call the doctor up there first thing in the morning. Are you sure your parents won’t mind?”

“Are you kidding me? They’re gonna be over the moon. Ellie, too.”

“And your brothers?”

“Nate’s already bought him and Liam both ‘world’s best uncle’ t-shirts. And Lilly, honestly, is gonna be pissed that she won’t be home til after he’s born. She’s already talking about just skipping her last week of classes to come home.”

Anna broke into a wide smile. “So...we’re doing this? I mean, assuming Milo doesn’t decide to make an appearance in the next three days?”

“Don’t jinx it,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her.

---

november 8th

Anna had been having a hard time sleeping the last month or so, but the past week had been nearly unbearable. Tonight she’d given up on it altogether and had rolled out of bed a little after midnight. Kristoff, who’d practically been sleeping with one eye open the entire time she’d been pregnant, had sat up immediately, but she’d kissed his cheek and said, “Go back to sleep, honey. You’ll be up all night with me soon enough.”

Now she found herself sitting-- well, leaning, really-- on his parents’ sofa watching Friends reruns and steadily making her way through a pint of pistachio ice cream. A creak came on the stairs, and she winced; preparing to make her apologies for waking up whoever it was. Before she had even turned around, though, Kristoff’s father said, “Only me, kiddo. And I’m up and down all night, anyway.”

After a minute, he joined her on the sofa with his own pint of ice cream. “What’s keeping you up, then?” he asked.

“Aches and pains and a little monster determined to turn my ribs into dust.”

He chuckled at that. “How you feeling besides that?”

She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “Just...tired, I guess.”

“Understandable.”

The cramp in her lower belly worsened again, and she winced, shifting in a fruitless attempt to get more comfortable. Cliff noticed her movement and wordlessly handed her a throw pillow. “Thanks,” she sighed, setting it behind her back. 

For a while, they watched the show in companionable silence, occasional faint bursts of laughter escaping them. When it switched to an infomercial, though, Cliff cleared his throat and looked at her. “You have to excuse me, Anna, for being so quiet. You know I’m not really one for words.”

She winked at him. “It’s alright. Your son takes after you.”

He smiled and reached over to pat her hand. “I think he turned out pretty okay, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “He really did. I hope Milo does, too.”

Cliff nodded slowly. “Are you nervous?”

She’d been doing her best to hide it, but when he looked at her like that with his voice so gentle and his eyes so soft-- “Yes,” she admitted. “About-- about not just, you know, the labor part, but...what comes after. I guess I just...don’t know how to be a mom.”

He gave her another long, thoughtful nod. “Can I tell you a secret?”

She raised an eyebrow, inviting him to go on.

“I still don’t know how to be a dad. And I sure as hell don’t know how to be a granddad. But that’s the thing, kiddo-- nobody really knows. You just do your best to love ‘em and get them on the right path, and then…” He shrugged. “I guess the rest kinda follows.”

Anna felt her eyes begin to sting with tears, and without her having to say anything, Cliff moved to sit closer to her, pulling her into a hug. “And I want you to know, sweetheart,” he said softly, patting her shoulder, “that I think your mom and dad would be just as excited-- just as proud-- as I am.”

They held onto each other for a little while as Anna sniffled into his shoulder, but then another cramp started up, and she pulled back with a hiss. Cliff raised his eyebrows. “How long have you been hurting like that?”

“Oh, since I guess around lunch? But it’s fine, really, I pretty much never stop being achey at this point.”

“I’ve been down here with you for nearly forty-five minutes now, and even without my glasses I can tell it’s been hurting you more and more as time goes on.”

Anna frowned. “Well, that’s how this whole thing kinda works, isn’t-- ow, Jesus fucking-- sorry, Cliff.”

He squeezed her hand until the moment passed. “I think,” he said, his eyes warm, “you better go wake your husband up.”

---

november 9th

“I got here as fast as I could!” Sven panted as he burst into the room. “Tell me I didn’t-- oh, shit!”

“You’re really not supposed to use potty language like that around kids, you know,” Anna said, her eyes bright as she looked up from the bundle in her arms to smile at him. 

Sven stood frozen on the doorstep for a moment longer until Kristoff chuckled and said, “You wanna meet him?”

That was all it took for Sven to spring into action, and a moment later he was leaning over the side of the bed, getting as close as he could to the sleeping infant in Anna’s arms. “Shi-- shoot, man,” he breathed. “You got lucky.”

“I know I--”

“He got Anna’s nose.”

Anna burst into laughter. “Kristoff’s nose is just fine.”

“That’s the hormones talking. Can I hold him?” he asked eagerly.

When Elsa returned from the cafeteria a few moments later carrying a tray of coffees, for a moment they glared at each other, eyes narrowing, in a silent debate about whose turn it was to hold the baby, but then he squirmed in Sven’s arms and began to wail.

Sven handed him back to Anna immediately, who rolled her eyes. “He’s just hungry,” she teased. “What happened to you being the most competent godfather of all time, huh?”

“Part of being a good godfather is knowing when it’s time to pass him back,” he said magnanimously as Anna began to feed the baby. “Like right now, because I can’t do that.”

She laughed. “Okay, okay, point taken.”

---

Later, when it was just the three of them again, Kristoff moved to sit beside his wife on the bed. Anna snuggled happily against his side and carefully set the baby on his lap.

“Hey, Milo,” Kristoff whispered, reaching down to trace a finger over his son’s tiny hand. “Happy birthday.”

Milo Clifford Bjorgman-- that's what they'd decided on; his father had cried when they told him as he held his grandson for the first time.

Anna smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “We did a pretty good job, huh?”

“You’re the one who did the hard part. Even if you didn’t know that it was going on until-- what, one A.M.?”

She giggled. “If it wasn’t for your dad, I might have just had him on the kitchen floor.”

“Thank god he found you then,” Kristoff said drily. 

“It kinda worked out, though. That meant I was only worried about you passing out for a couple of hours.”

He was distracted from replying as Milo blinked sleepily and peered curiously up at him. “Hey, buddy,” Kristoff whispered. “How’s it going?”

Anna leaned her head against his shoulder. “Do you think he likes us?”

“Judging by how much he’s already eaten today, he definitely likes you.”

She giggled. “He sleeps better when you’re the one holding him, though.”

His lips tugged upwards into a smile. “Do you think so?”

“Oh, definitely. He gets that from his mama.”

Kristoff turned and kissed the top of her head. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Yeah. But it bears repeating, I think.”

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair. “I love you two more than anything in the world.”

She smiled and turned to kiss him. “Love you back.”

---

epilogue

“You sure you two are going to be okay?” Anna asked as she finished putting in her second earring.

Kristoff leaned down and kissed her cheek. “It’s just an ear infection, baby. I can take care of him.”

She frowned. “Yeah, but you’re still running a fever, and--”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Bulda said cheerfully as she bustled in, Milo in her arms. “Ellie, baby, why don’t you let Anna do that lipstick for you?”

“See?” Kristoff said as Anna turned to help his sister finish putting on her makeup. “I’m more worried about you two and the trouble you’re going to get into.”

“Us? Trouble?” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “Please.”

“You’re still in trouble for skipping class, by the way,” Bulda said sternly. “And very much re-grounded as soon as tonight is over.”

“Mom!”

As the two of them began to argue, Kristoff took the opportunity to take Milo from his mother’s arms and walk into the kitchen with Anna, moving carefully to avoid stepping on the train of her long, golden gown. “You nervous?” he asked, passing her the baby.

Anna shrugged as she cradled Milo carefully against her chest. “Nah. I know I’m not going to win anything.”

“I mean, between three nominations...odds are good, right?”

“Nah. Musicals never really win the big awards. And considering one Disney movie got two songs nominated in that category, I don’t know why I even bothered working on an acceptance speech.”

“Well, in my opinion, Anastasia was the best movie of the year,” he replied with a wink. “Definitely had the hottest lead actress.”

“Get down here and kiss me before I put my lipstick on.”

He did so with a smile.

---

He’d grumbled all day about his mother coming by to help him out tonight-- “He’s my son, Ma, I can take care of him on my own”, to which she’d replied, “I know you can, but I just want every opportunity to love on my grandbaby, and I’ll be bringing your sister, anyway”, and Anna had interjected, “And he’s still running fever, Bulda, and I caught him trying to mow the lawn, anyway.”

But he had to admit he was grateful for it now as he sat nervously on the edge of the sofa, drumming his fingers against his knee. Anna and Ellie had both looked beautiful on the red carpet-- well, really, Ellie had looked nervous as hell, but when Anna had taken her hand in her own she’d relaxed for the most part-- but this time around, there was more for Anna to do than just look pretty.

“Now performing another of the numbers nominated for Best Original Song,” the host said, “here’s Anna Arendelle, singing ‘Under the Stars’ from Anastasia!”

There was silence for a moment before the slow swell of violins started to play, and then the lights rose to reveal Anna, looking like a goddess in her gown, as she began to sing, and despite himself Kristoff felt tears spring to his eyes.

“Look at her go,” his mom breathed, and on her lap even Milo seemed enraptured.

Anna finished the song to uproarious applause, and damn, he wished he’d protested harder about her telling him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t going to the Oscars with a fever, because right now what he wanted more than anything was to run onstage and scream, “That’s my wife!”

Fifteen minutes later, when all five of the nominees for ‘Best Song’ were announced, his mother reached over and squeezed his hand as the camera landed on Anna and Ellie in the audience. They waited with bated breath as the announcer said, “And the Oscar goes to…’A Garden Full of Butterflies’ from To Those Who Wait!”

Both of them sat back with a sigh. “It’s alright,” Kristoff said, “there’s still the other two, right? And those are a bigger deal.”

Milo gurgled in agreement.

If he was being honest, Kristoff didn’t really give a shit about the rest of the ceremony-- he’d seen some of the movies with Anna, but in his opinion, most of the shit nominated for these awards was just depressing as hell-- and so he distracted himself from the waiting by tidying up around the house, straightening the rows of toys Milo’s aunts and uncles had spoiled him with and folding the blanket Anna had given him for their first Christmas together and rearranging the pictures on the fridge so that the one of the two of them on New Year’s was right next to the picture of the day they’d brought Milo home.

“Kris!” his mother squawked as he stood back to admire his handiwork. “They’re doing Best Actress!”

He hurried back into the living room just as the announcer for this award-- Hans, to his amusement, who had been nominated for nothing on his own merit-- said, “And the Oscar goes to...Anna Arendelle!”

The two of them erupted into whoops of joy, Milo joining in with a screech of his own. “That’s right, buddy,” Kristoff cheered as he swept his son into his arms, holding him high for a moment to make him squeal with delight before cradling him against his chest. “Mama did it!”

Anna’s eyes were shining even brighter than her gown as she took to the stage and accepted the statuette. “Wow, I-- wow,” she said, and the audience laughed fondly. “I don’t know what to say, I mean-- I wrote the speech and everything, but I didn’t actually study it because I never in a million years dreamed this would happen. I, um-- well, let me start of by saying thank you to everyone who worked on Anastasia with me, especially our wonderful director Destin Mattias. And thank you to my family as well-- my sister Elsa, especially, thank you for supporting me since we were kids.”

She grinned and looked right into the camera. “But most of all, thank you to my husband, Kristoff, who couldn’t be here right now because he’s taking care of our son. I love you more than anything, honey. Thank you for going on this crazy, incredible journey. I wouldn’t be here without you. Here’s to our happy ending.”

[the-arkham-librarian]

She had been staring at her phone for 20 minutes.

This was a phone call she had to make but was dreading, so much was riding on their reactions. But she had to do it, it wouldn’t be right not to tell them. If they found out from someone other than her it would just be worse.

Eliza picks up the phone and dials the all too familiar number.

She can picture it now, the phone in the kitchen ringing on it’s hook, her father rushing from the library to answer with his normal cheery-

“Hello? Kraven residence!”

His voice brings a smile to Eliza’s face, she almost forgets why she called. “Hey Dad, how are you?” The scraping of a chair is heard on the other end as he pulls one up to sit down, “Oh not bad, been slow at the ‘ome.” Hmm, business must be slowing down. “Well uh hey I wanted to talk to you and mom about something, it’s...rather important.”

“Oh? Well let me give a yell.” She can hear him attempt to cover the receiver but the bellow of ‘BARBARA’ can still be heard. There’s some muffled conversation and, after a few moments, her mother voice can be heard.

“Elizabeth? Is everything alright? Your dad said it was important.”

Here it is, the moment of truth. She’ll start small and work her way up to the big one. “Well, it’s exciting news. I’m seeing someone.” “That’s wonderful!” her father says, “Well, come on now, details!” A slight laugh comes from her, “Well, his name is Jonathan, he’s uh....he’s a man of science,” not a complete lie but not the full truth either. She doesn’t want to give too much away, it’s not for her to tell. “I met him at work, and we’ve been together for about a year now. It’s...honestly been wonderful, he doesn’t think I’m weird for my interests, he’s supportive of my career, he’s driven, he’s brilliant, he’s just...” she sighs, the kind of sigh that only happens when you’re in love.

“Well that’s great love,” Arthur says warmly, “So are you two are close in age then?”

It’s like an icy dagger is plunged in her heart. This she can’t fudge the truth on. If they’re to meet him, which she wants to happen, they need to know so they don’t keel over when they see him.

“Well he’s....a bit older than me.” This time it’s Barbara who speaks, “How much older, if I may ask?” Her tone indicates that she knows Eliza’s hiding something, it’s a tone Eliza would hear as a child. “He’s-he’s about thirty years older,” she says it as quickly as she can, like ripping off a band-aid.

The air is still and deathly quiet. No one speaks for a few seconds.

Then-

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?! ELIZABETH CATHERINE WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! A MAN AS OLD AS WE ARE?!”

Adrenaline spikes. Her first instinct is to fight, to scream that they don’t know him. But she bites her tongue and lets her mother carry on her tirade of anger and disappointment while her father tries to calm her down. He eventually manages to wrestle the phone away from his wife, “Elizabeth we’ll call you right back. Barbara!’

Click.

A few hours later, a very tearful Eliza’s phone rings again. She takes a deep breath and answers. Taking a breath to speak she’s stopped by the voice of her mother.

“Please, just...just let me say this. No, I’m not happy you’re dating a man so much older than you. But please know I just want you to be safe and happy.” Having suffered so much pain and heartache to bring a child into the world, the woman is naturally very protective of her daughter. The phone adjusts, “Does he make you happy?”

“Yes.”

A hmm from the other end, “....I won’t judge him until I meet him then, for your sake.” “Thank you mom, thank-”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m still not thrilled about this but....this is your life Elizabeth, and I do want you to be happy.”

“.....I love you mom.”

“.....I love you too, my little lioness.”

The old petname she used to hate brings a smile to her face. “I’m putting your father back on the phone, I need a drink.” Her father sighs, “Well dear, you’ve really put your mother in a state.” “I know I-wait, you aren’t mad?” “Well I’m not exactly happy either, can’t lie there, but...I could tell by the way you spoke of the man that you do really love him. And while I may not be happy with you dating someone so much older, I do trust your judgement. Besides,” she can hear a bit of a smile, “I know that we couldn’t stop you seeing him, you always were a stubborn one. I would also like to meet the man who my daughter thinks is worthy of her hand.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll meet him soon. I do want him to meet granddad and grandma.” A snort, “Oh I’m sure granddad will have his fun with him. Alright dear I’ve got to go try and sooth your mother.” “Try not to loose any fingers,” she teases. A bark of laughter, “You joke but...well... talk to you soon a sheòid.”

“I love you dad, and thank you.”

Click.

[notyetneedcoffee]

Not Exactly A Classic Dame (1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC (platonic friendship between Steve x OFC)

Warnings: None this Chapter, but later

Bucky Master List / Main Master List

* * *

CHAPTER 1

“Stop growling.” Steve Rogers chuckled at his friend as the crowd of technicians parted like the Red Sea as they passed.

“I ain’t growling.” Bucky Barnes, former Winter Soldier and newest resident at the Avenger Compound, muttered beside him. Granted, his nerves coiled his hands into fists and his head ached from the scowl he’d been sporting since the jet arrived three hours ago.

“Uh-huh.” Came the light-hearted laugh.

“I don’t like all the attention, okay.” Bucky leaned closer. So far, he’d been hauled into a meeting room and briefed on all the rules of the compound, ran through a mind-blowingly fast course on all the technology, been swept into a lab to be thoroughly examined and scanned, had all of his meager belonging searched, and treated more like a potential threat than a possible member of the team.

Steve stopped, resting a steady hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s a lot. I get it.” He sighed, looking at it from the other man’s perspective. “It probably doesn’t feel all that friendly either. We’ve all been here so long, that we’re hit with the changes a little a time. Having to submit to it all at once has got to be weird. Really, though, all this tech – F.R.I.D.A.Y., and all – it's not bad.”

“Fine.” Bucky pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Just so long a Stark’s fucking nerds keep out of my way and allow me some privacy.”

“Don’t worry.” Steve grinned, pulling his friend along to their last appointment. “And they’re not all bad.”

“Are we getting lunch soon? How much more orientation crap can there possibly be?” Bucky grumbled.  

“After this. I want to get you hooked up with Harper so you have everything you need for outside the compound.” At his friend’s raised eyebrow, he clarified. “You know, personnel stuff - alternate IDs, funded credit cards, make sure you don’t trigger facial recognition software on some security network if you’re out and about. I don’t think we can do much about metal detectors, though.” He joked.

Buck stopped walking, mouth dropping open a little. Steve gave him a distinct ’what’ look. “Isn’t that all a little on the wrong side of legal?”

“Depends on what country you’re in.” Steve smirked and continued down the hall.

Bucky smiled for the first time. “The spies are rubbing off on you.”

“No, I’m just realizing what needs to be done in order to do the right thing. I have more trust in the people I’m around than the governments running the show. And Harper is good people.”

Music drifted towards them. Bucky didn’t recognize it, but that didn’t mean much. It had a good tempo and lots of guitar. When Steve swung the office door open, the volume of music quadrupled making Bucky wonder how someone could work amongst the distraction. Banks of monitors took up one wall and in front sat Harper.  

“Hey Cas!” Steve shouted over the music, grinning like an idiot over the stunned look on Bucky’s face.  

Cassidy Harper spun around on her stool, one leg tucked under her, and a brilliant smile on her full red lips. Bucky found himself smiling back at this beautiful woman, curved in all the right places, wearing blue jeans and no shoes. From beneath her dark blue t-shirt a tattoo covered her left arm from shoulder to elbow. It was her shiny black hair, held back in a red handkerchief and victory curls that did him in. Actual victory curls.  

She hit a button, killing the music before hopping down onto her bare feet and giving Steve a hug. The top of her head only come to his chin, still Cas rose up on tip toes and threw her arms around his neck. Bucky noticed the red of her toe nails matched the red on her lips. “Steve!”

“Hey, Cas. Thanks for making time.” He hugged her back, lifting her off her feet a little before turning back to Bucky. “This is him. Buck, this is Cassidy Harper.”

“I’ve heard so much about you.” Cas opened her arms. “I’m a hugger. May I?”  

He chuckled and stepped forward. She warmly wrapped her arms around his neck and he tentatively placed his hands on her waist. It’d been a long while since anyone just wanted such casual contact. Usually, he didn’t like strangers touching him, but this felt good. She smelled of mint and something slightly citrus. Fresh.  

“So,” Cas hopped back onto her stool, flashing a devilish grin. “Stevie says I’m to hook you up with whatever you want. What’s it going to be?”

“Um?” Bucky looked back and forth between the two, not quite understanding.  

“Were you able to scrub him from the watch dog systems?” Steve leaned against a bank of cabinets.  

“Yeah, it was easy actually. Nothing at all like you - Steve 'My Face Is On Boxes Of Corn Flakes' Rogers.” She swung her foot around in circles, the momentum bringing her to face Bucky. “You’ve taken ghosting to an art form, sweetheart.”

He just shrugged.  

“What about IDs?” Steve continued.

Cas reached around and handed Bucky a manila envelope. “There’s two to start. One in your real name, and one under Edward Porter. Both have bogus birth records, passports, New York driver’s licenses, concealed weapons permits, bank accounts, and couple credit cards. There’s a 100k limit on them. Let me know if you need more.”

Bucky cocked his head. “That was my granddad’s name.”

“I asked Steve some questions. It’s best to keep lies easy to remember.” She shrugged.  

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Not to Stark.” She waved a hand.  

“So,” She turned back to her computer. “I assume they’re going to have you staying here for a while, so no get-away pad. What about wheels? Do you intend to just borrow from the fleet, or do you want something of your own? You into something sporty? Or you want a truck like our friend here? Maybe a motorcycle?”

“A bike.” Came his fast answer.

“Yay.” Cas gave a little cheer. “What kind? Cruiser? Crotch-rocket? Or -”

“Harley Panhead.”

“Nice.” Her fingers started flying over the keyboard as she searched for the classic motorcycle, images flashed across multiple screens faster than the men could follow. She stopped, settling on a shiny black updated and rebuilt model for an exorbitant price. “How about that? Is she sexy or what?”

“Sure is, Doll.” Bucky drawled. Completely, taken by more than just the bike.

“Kinda pricey.” Steve commented. “Stark going to question you on this one?”

“Tony can kiss my round right ass cheek.” Cas rolled her eyes. “I just rooted out a Taiwanese ring that was plagiarizing one of his applications and saved him fifty times that amount – last Tuesday – on my lunch break. I’m in good graces right now, so I’m sharing the spoils.”

“Okay.” Steve laughed raising both hands in surrender. “Just asking”

“Now, we’ve covered identification, cash, transportation. It’s not my official job, but are you all set up in your apartment? Please don’t let Steve help you. He’s got all the taste of an army barracks in a black and white movie.”

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed while Cas giggled. “You liked the Christmas gift I gave you, and that was for your apartment.”

“Yes. I love it.” Cas beamed. “But it’s color pencil of my old dog – that you drew yourself – and it’s beautiful. That does not make you Martha Stuart.”

“I don’t need much. What’s there is fine.” Bucky suddenly felt uncomfortable. He realized Steve must really care for her if he’d given her a piece of his art. Back in the war, he didn’t show many people how well he could draw. He almost never gave it away, even a tiny sketch. A surprising flood of disappointment washed over him.

“Bullshit.” Cas scoffed.

“Language.” Steve rolled his eyes, but she stuck out her tongue at him.

“Really. It's fine.” Bucky buried his hands in his pockets. “I appreciate the offer, but there’s no need.”

Steve saw the swing in his friend’s mood, not understanding why, but attributing it to hunger. He wanted lunch even before they arrived. “Okay, what do you say we head out and let Cas get back to work. We’ll go get lunch.” Bucky nodded.

Cas felt the change too. She hopped from her workstation and threw an arm sideways around Steve’s waist for a brief moment. “Thanks for the visit and the introduction.” Turning back to Bucky, she bumped his shoulder with her own. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear when the bike is supposed to arrive. I can’t wait to see it.”

“Thanks. Me too.” He smiled back at her, but this time it didn’t brighten his eyes.  

[wordsandshawn]

“Oh fuck I’m so sorry are you ok?”

a/n: I’m slowly but surely writing some of my old dialogue prompts. Just some wholesome caring/comfort/boyfriend!Shawn. Enjoy! 

With shaky hands, you click on Shawn’s contact, calling him, and praying that he’ll pick up. You desperately need him to answer because you need him right now. You’re at your University, just trying to push through finals despite how difficult this last week has been. Shawn is finally home for a bit, but with how much you have going on, you’ve already told him it doesn’t look like you’ll have time to hang out. You have final papers, exams, and presentations. On top of all of that, work has been unusually stressful, and you can’t afford slack there, especially because you need the money.

He doesn’t answer. You need him, and he’s not answering. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down before slipping your phone into your pocket. You swallow the tears that are threatening to fall as you continue the trek from one of the libraries back home to your apartment.

You had just gotten off the phone with your mom who informed you that your grandfather was in the hospital because he had a stroke, and that you should come home as soon as possible. You still have two finals to take tomorrow and a big paper to finish by the end of the week, but this news is weighing heavily on your mind and your heart as you desperately want to be back home with your family. You need to be with them, but the earliest you can leave is tomorrow, and you still have to finish packing all of your stuff because you hadn’t planned to be leaving until the end of the week at the earliest, and you have to be completely moved out of your apartment for the summer.  

You know that Shawn is busy and that he wants to spend time with his friends and family since he’s back home in Toronto. You also know that you had told him not to make the two-hour drive from Toronto to your University because you knew you wouldn’t have time to actually spend with him, and it wouldn’t be worth it for him to drive all the way over to you. Even so, you’re regretting it right now. More than anything you wish your boyfriend was here to hold you while you cry, to reassure you that things will be alright, to promise that he’ll hold your hand through it all, but he’s not here, and he won’t even answer his damn phone.

After returning to your apartment, you know you should study, but you’re emotionally and physically exhausted and you haven’t slept much all week. Soon, you end up falling asleep on your bed with your books spread out around you.

An hour later, you wake up to find a missed call from Shawn. Everything rushes back to you, and you’re reminded of the phone call with your mom that prompted you to call Shawn in the first place. You immediately text your mom asking for an update on your grandfather, and then you return Shawn’s call.

“Hey baby,” Shawn says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. He has no idea that your whole world is falling apart. Before you get a chance to say hi, Shawn continues. “The guys are over, and we’re going to watch the basketball game here tonight. I was going to get takeout, but I was also thinking of getting that lasagna thing you like and trying to actually do some home cooking. What do you think?” Shawn questions, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re now holding your breath to keep the tears at bay.

“Shawn?” You question, your voice shaky as you can’t even respond to his question.

The tone of his voice immediately changes to one of concern. “What’s wrong?” He questions, all thoughts of the game and dinner completely out of his mind as his only concern is you.

“My granddad had a stroke. He’s in the hospital.”

“Oh, fuck I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”He says in a rush.

You take a deep breath, but the tears still come before you can stop them. “No,” You whisper. You can’t talk anymore because you’re crying.

“Baby, baby,” Shawn says quietly, sadness in his tone. He’s too far away to do anything except speak to you. “Hey, I love you. I’m coming, okay?”

“What?” You manage to choke out, confused for a moment.

“I’m coming to get you.” He answers, not asking for permission.

Silence settles between the two of you for a few moments as you try desperately to contain yourself.

“What about the game?” You finally question, knowing Shawn has plans for the night. He was just telling you about them before you cut in with your information. And even though you’re falling apart, you still feel guilty for ruining his plans.

“I don’t care about the game. I’ll come get you, so you can see your grandad.”

“No,” Everything is overwhelming you because you’re thinking about how much you still have to get done. The scariest thing is that you’re afraid time is running out. “I have exams tomorrow, and I still have to move out. And I still have work until the end of the week. I don’t know what to do, Shawn.” You say, deflated, as you feel yourself falling apart more by the minute. More than anything, you just wish Shawn was here to hold you. It wouldn’t make anything better exactly, but at least you wouldn’t feel so helpless and alone.  

“We’ll figure it out. When do you have to move out by?” Shawn questions, his voice steady and even, the only thing keeping you from coming completely undone.  

“Friday.” You manage to respond.

“Alright. Let me just get a few things together and then I’ll drive over. I’ll be there as soon as I can, and I’ll help you pack up and study and whatever else. We’ll load my jeep and I’ll bring you back to Toronto tomorrow after your exams, so you can see your grandad. And we’ll figure out the rest later, depending on how everything goes. Does that sound okay?”

“Shawn, you don’t have to come. I can just drive back tomorrow after my exams.” You respond, finally beginning to think clearly. It’ll all work out. You’ll be able to see your granddad tomorrow night. You’ll just have to call in to work and figure out a way to get back in order to pack your stuff up by the end of the week, but it’s only Tuesday, so you have some time. Not much, but some.

“No, I’m coming tonight. I don’t want you driving by yourself. And that way I can help you pack so there’s not as much stuff later.” He responds.

Having Shawn here with you is the option you’d much prefer, so you concede. “Okay, that sounds good.”

“I’ll be out of here in twenty minutes max, so I’ll see you at around seven?”

Your heart swells at the fact that you’ll see your boyfriend so soon. You thought you’d have to wait until the end of the week at least. “Yeah, I can’t wait to see you.” You respond.

“Me too. I love you, y/n.”

“Love you too.”

“Can you do me a favor?” He questions, stopping you from hanging up.

“Yeah,” You respond automatically even though you have no idea what he’s about to ask.

“Go make yourself some tea and relax a bit. I’ll be there soon, but I need to know you’ll be okay until then.”

“I’m okay.” You respond.

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” He promises to text you when he’s leaving, and you tell him to drive safely. When you hang up the phone, you fulfill his request and make yourself some tea before settling down on the couch with your flashcards.

Shawn arrives at around seven, just like he promised. He knocks on your apartment door, and you rush to open it. His arms wrap around you immediately as you melt into his embrace. A part of you can’t believe he’s actually here with you. “I got you,” He mumbles softly as he holds you tightly in his arms.

Finally, the two of you separate, and Shawn asks, “Have you eaten?”

“No.” You answer simply. You can’t remember if you’ve eaten at all today, really.

“What do you feel like having?” Shawn questions, and you only shrug in response. It’s not a hard question, but food is the last thing you’ve been thinking about lately. “Pizza? From that place down the street?” He offers, “Or we can get sushi? Burritos, pasta?” He lists options.

“I don’t know.” You lowly whine.

“Okay,” He responds softly, leaning in and kissing you on the forehead. “Pasta?” You nod, and he says, “I’ll postmate it. There’s that one place we got it from last time. It was pretty good.” He pulls out his phone and starts ordering the pasta still standing in the middle of your living room. He’s very task oriented, so his first task is to make sure you’re fed. Just step one in making sure you’re okay. You take his hand and pull him towards your couch. He follows, still tapping away on his phone. He sits down, making room for you to curl up by his side, which you do immediately. He wraps an arm around you. “Garlic bread?” He questions, half to himself because when you don’t respond right away, he nods, and says, “Yeah.”

After a few more seconds, he asks, “Chicken alfredo and baked ziti sound good?” Even though he knows the answer. Those are your two favorites, so you never say no to either of them.

Once the order is placed, Shawn puts his phone to the side and turns his attention toward you. “Hey,” He whispers, studying you for a moment.

“Hey,” You respond, resting your head against his shoulder, treasuring how safe you feel in his arms.

“How’s your granddad?”

“My mom said he’s stable for now. They’re all at the hospital though.”

“I know you want to be there. We’ll be there soon.” He responds, recognizing the wistfulness in your tone.

Shawn holds you in his arms until the food arrives. You talk about everything and nothing, a good distraction from all the stressful things you’ve been focusing on lately. After dinner, Shawn insists on packing for you despite the fact that it’s getting late and you told him you could do it, or at least help him. Even though you want to be able to help him, you have to get to studying for your exams in the morning since you don’t feel prepared at all.

Shawn can read you like a book, one perk of knowing you so long and so well. “Study, just keep an eye on me to make sure I’m doing it right.” Shawn says once he’s retrieved the boxes from his car that he had brought with him.

So that’s how you spend the night, soft music playing from your laptop as you study out loud, mostly talking to yourself, and Shawn wanders around your apartment packing everything that’s yours. Luckily your roommate had gone home since her finals were only later in the week, she wouldn’t be back until the next morning.

It’s two am when you finally put your books away and Shawn climbs into bed beside you. He pulls you closer to himself, and you already know you’ll sleep well tonight with him by your side. “Y/n?” Shawn mumbles as you’re almost falling asleep.

“Yeah?” You sleepily respond.

“It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” You don’t respond because you’re so sleepy, but hearing Shawn say those words again makes you really believe them.

[malereader-inserts]

Andante, Andante | Ch. IV

“We’re not going out on dates,” Peter said sternly, though he wishes it was, he didn’t want to call them dates if it means it had repulsed you.

“Yeah, right,” May said with such apprehensiveness,  “So you stay up until god knows when to hang out with this guy just because he’s such a great company?”

Word Count: 1,522

A/n: I just realise when I post this, it’s a Thursday in Europe, Asia and Australia but still a Wednesday in America and South America. idk but timezones baffle me

< Previous | Next >

You walk to your new destination, you were visiting your grandparents, who give you kisses on the cheek and food to fatten you up. They were getting concern about you, but you waved them off saying you’ll be fine. 

“You have that look boy,” Your grandfather speaks as you turn to look at him, entering the living room. 

“What look?” 

“Like you’re in love.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, “I’m not- no, you’re wrong.”

“Whatever you say, my boy,” He says shrugging his shoulders, leaning back in his armchair as he narrows his eyes towards you, “But, your eyes deceive you.”

“It’s stupid, granddad, I don’t do love,” You utter, shrugging your shoulders and scoffing once more, “It’s stupid, people doing irrational things for people is beyond idiotic. Why put someone else in front of your needs?”

“You’re a cynic, a bitter man who’s never felt love.”

“I don’t need love,” You retaliated, “Better bitter than broken.”

Your granddad frowns, looking at you disapprovingly.

“It’s true,” but yet, you sound so unsure.

“You’re afraid, and that’s not a problem, but you need to talk about it. I have many years of experience in life. Hit me with it.”

You sighed, running your hand through your hair, uncertainty was being breathed out and suddenly thoughts, doubts, worries came to haunt you in your mind. Too much to think about and too hard to shut it off.

“There’s a boy, an idiot, a moron,” You say, your grandfather doesn’t miss the affectionate tone on moron, “He’s something else, a fool, you could describe him.”

“So, befriend the fools,” the old man says to you, “They’re a bit lost at times; they haven’t got a god-damned clue where they’re going, but give them direction, and they’ll follow you across fresh asphalt and mountainous dunes. Be patient with them. If they’re aloof, it’s because their mind is teeming with more thoughts than the stars in the galaxy. Most importantly, be kind to them. Show them you care, and every ounce of their soul will defy physical law and return it tenfold, a hundredfold, even a thousand-fold, to ensure you never lose sight of what they consider meaningful and true.”

You paused looking at him, “He’s not a fool,” there was a soft tone to your voice as your granddad raises an eyebrow towards you.

“Well, that’s what you just called him, so, if he’s not, what is he?”

You knitted your eyebrows together, what was Peter Parker to you?

“So, how exactly does this whole thing work?” Aunt May asked one morning. She had picked up one of the doughnuts that Peter had brought home after his late-night Dunkin’ Donuts visit. “Do you just go out on a date to a different fast food place every night?”

“We’re not going out on dates,” Peter said sternly, though he wishes it was, he didn’t want to call them dates if it means it had repulsed you.

“Yeah, right,” May said with such apprehensiveness,  “So you stay up until god knows when to hang out with this guy just because he’s such a great company?”

“Well, I do enjoy talking to him,” Peter had admitted with a shrug. 

You didn’t seem like the most approachable person at first look, everyone knew that and you liked to keep it that way because you don’t necessarily like your fellow humans but Peter loved talking to you.

He’d written down his phone number on a napkin the night they’d met at IHOP, in fact, Peter was glad that you accepted the number and texted him as you left the establishment. It would have felt like he was tempting fate if he hadn’t – he’d been sure that he wouldn’t coincidentally run into you for the third time.

May laughed, “You like him,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Peter grumbled, slouching against the kitchen island, “I already get teased by Tony about this.”

“I think it’s cute,” May says joyfully, “Do you have a picture of him?”

“No-” Peter responded too quickly as May raised an eyebrow, Peter sighs shamefully, “In my defence, Bucky sent a load of pictures of the team after him and Sam did a social media dive.”

Peter fished out his phone to tap onto the Whatsapp group chat and scrolled through the pictures as May looked over his shoulder. Peter stops at one picture, tapping to open it. 

May could see why Peter found you attractive, it was a rare picture taken by Natasha when you and her went to go out for a day out. Sam and Bucky couldn’t find any recent pictures of you and you kept declining their request to follow your Instagram, so with the courtesy of Nat, she posted a picture of you.

Eyes sparkling as you looked happily to ice cream, one side of your lip curved upwards as you had balloons behind you and the sun as your background. You never commented about the picture when everyone else was fawning over it.

“He’s cute,” May nods, approving, “Seems sweet underneath that hard exterior, go get him but remember your boundaries.”

When you had sent him a text shortly after midnight only a couple of days later, it was approximately four days since he last ran into at IHOP, telling him that he was at Taco Bell, Peter hardly hesitated before he headed out. 

You never actually invited him to join you, you just told him where you were and left it up to Peter to come by or not. 

It was nice though, he was afraid that he would be the one to be texting you, so when you sent him a message it was comforting that you were slowly warming up to him.

It was easy to spot you, it was the bright orange windbreak you were sporting. Peter figured out that you love your windbreakers, but he knows your purple and white one was your favourite out of the lot you owned. Peter didn’t get himself anything to eat, he just sat down across from you

“Didn’t think you’d come today,” You greeted and pushed your tray over to Peter. “Do you want a taco? It’s probably cold, though.”

“You didn’t think I’d come but you still have a leftover taco for me?”

“I just didn’t get around to eating it yet.” You shrugged. You looked tired tonight, like you hadn’t slept in days, “You’re not that special, Parker.”

You smirked at him, and Peter feels at ease with you.

“Are you alright, (L/n)?” Peter asked, he thinks how your last name rolls off his tongue unnaturally, though he was never one to back down if you refuse to call him by his name.

You continued to smirk, “You’re annoyingly perceptive, Parker,” he replied. “But yeah, I’m fine. I just need some sleep. And maybe a drink. Or five drinks.” You laughed quietly, shaking your head. 

“You’re not legal,” Peter stated dumbly as you give him a look of obvious pain at his ridiculousness.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” You hummed, a bite of sarcasm at Peter.

“So, why the drinks?” Peter asked as you raised an eyebrow and narrowing your eyes at him, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I have a lot of things to think about, Parker, and we’ve been at this deal for almost three weeks. You have four more,” You state softly, tilting your head to the side, “Oh how quickly time passes.”

There was something you wanted to say but you close your mouth shut. As Peter looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes, smiling slightly and yet so awkwardly.

“How am I doing?”

You paused before managing to give him a tired smile, “I’m glad you came by.”

“So am I,” Peter says earnestly.

The two of you go into a comfortable silence as Peter picks up the taco you didn’t eat. You crossed your arms on top of the table as you leaned your chin on them, watching him slowly devour the food you bought.

“Still good?” You asked him, amused to see his cheek full of food though you looked more disgusted than anything.

“Yeah!” Peter nods enthusiastically as you break your disgruntle look into pure joy, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

You waved your hand, dismissing his worries and concern, “Not in the mood to talk,” You admitted, heaving a heavy sigh as Peter nods not wanting to push any further, “Though I wish my super strength would hold up the burden of my thoughts.”

“Hey! I can tell you a story about...” Peter starts to trail off to a rant about him and Ned at school.

You watched him start telling you a story, using his hands as you try to motion to him to quieten his voice. Blushing like crazy he does so and continues to tell his story, you don’t stop him. He brings comfort and unfortunately he misses how your eyes sparkle just for him. 

You sighed wistfully, not realising, into the third week of this stupid deal, you started to fall for Peter Parker, very slowly.

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