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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years ago

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Four Little Sips

Day 28, Post #2

Title: Four Little Sips

Author: JohnMcHacker

Pairings: Harry/Bill/Charlie (platonic), Harry/Ginny (romantic), Gryffindor Quidditch Team (platonic), Fred/George/Ron (platonic), Ron/Hermione (romantic)

Prompt: In Vino Veritas

Rating: PG

Trigger Warnings: Alcoholism, Referenced death, Language

Note to admin: Thanks for organising, this is my first time submitting, sorry if I'm late or if it doesn't meet requirements. I have also posted to the AO3 collection.

* * *

You see, Harry had never really had anyone just a few years older to look up to. Alright, there was Hermione, but they were classmates and best friends and at roughly the same place in life, it wasn’t the same.

That summer of 1998, in the wake of all that pain and death and sorrow, the Weasleys pulled together and pulled him in with them. On a few occasions, this meant having a few drinks with Bill and Charlie, in various nondescript Muggle pubs in the vicinity of Ottery St Catchpole.

“Just because Kingsley cut you some slack doesn’t mean you have to take the offer,” said Charlie. “You’ve spent your whole life fighting Voldemort, one way or anoher. You deserve to take a break. Live a little. Or else, what have you been fighting for?”

Harry thought of several memorable sunlit days, and found he couldn’t really disagree.

“Or at the very least, know why you’re putting your life on the line, once again,” said Bill. “Well, alright, you were the Chosen One, you had your job to do then. But now that that’s over, you ought to think twice why you’re risking your neck on your own account.”

“Well, I think I’d be good at it,” said Harry. “And someone has to do it. The Aurors are short-handed and too many of Voldemort’s thugs are still out there.”

Bill shook his head, munching a handful of chips. “That’s not good enough. Merlin knows I’d love a crack at the bastards myself. But your neck’s not just your own now, Harry. Ginny has a say too. That’s part of what being together means.”

“Muggle birds ain’t bad,” said Charlie, nodding at a trio of pretty college-age girls gathered round a table across the pub. They caught him watching, giggled, and winked in reply. “Don’t limit yourself to witches. But if you do, don’t mess ‘em around, play fair, and come clean as soon as you can.”

“The most important part of my relationship with Fleur is trust,” said Bill. “We don’t have secrets, and she trusts that I won’t suddenly run off hunting Death Eaters or dragons or Hor... whatever. And I trust her not to do the same.”

“Family’s what it comes down to,” said Charlie, draining his glass.

“Family,” nodded Bill. “Your first responsibility.”

“My shout,” said Harry, because that was something else they had taught him was right, to stand his round, and he went to the bar to get the drinks. When he returned, they had moved on to other important matters.

“Free advice, Potter, take it or leave it,” said Charlie, tapping the side of his nose, “women; you’ll never go wrong if you please ‘em first, know what I mean?”

“Oi! That’s our sister you’re talking about!” snapped Bill, trying not to laugh.

“So what? She’s got fi... four of you looking out for her. Maybe I just want to see fair play.” Charlie winked at Harry. “Let me tell you about what I call ‘wandless magic’, and trust me, it is magic.”

“That’s it, you’re done, Perce is my new number two, it’s you that Mum and Dad should disown...”

“There’s more where that came from, Harry. You want to know how to beat Ron at chess? He can’t play gambits worth a damn. Stick with me, I’ll show you something called a Smith-Morra, aye?”

Advice, experience, honour, laughter. Maybe this was what it was like to have older brothers, thought Harry. It filled a hole in him he never even knew he had.

* * *

Oliver would never have allowed it, but Angelina Johnson was a more fun-loving kind of Quidditch Captain. She passed the word around quietly, and so the five Gryffindor players above the age of sixteen met in the changing rooms fifteen minutes before Potter and the younger Weasley were due to arrive. Of course it was the Twins who’d acquired the goods, however they managed it. Fred produced the bottle of Ogden’s from somewhere under his robes with a flourish, and George grinned toothily as he conjured shot glasses from thin air.

“Alright, I know it was my idea, but just the one, got it?” warned Angelina, pouring the drinks herself.

“Aye aye, Captain,” said Fred. George sketched a sloppy salute her way.

Katie Bell was practically trembling with excitement and nerves. “Oooh, this’ll be my first drink ever,” she said, holding up the glass of amber liquid to catch the light. “Are you sure we won’t get caught?” she asked, looking around as if expecting McGonagall to burst out of a locker at any time.

“Course we can’t be sure,” said Alicia Spinnet. “That’s part of the fun!”

Angelina looked round at each of them, and shouted “For the Cup!”

“FOR THE CUP!” they chorused, and knocked back the Firewhiskey.

Two years later, the three Chasers were standing at the bar of the Hog’s Head, but they had Oliver back now, and Angelina knew somehow that that was important, they were going to go to Hogwarts and find Fred and George and Harry and reunite the whole Team, and it meant she had to do this. She leaned over the counter, rummaged through the grimy bottles and found what she was looking for.

“You’re mad!” said Oliver incredulously.

“Probably,” said Alicia cheerfully, “but we did this every match and still won the Cup, didn’t we? Sixth-years and above only, of course, we had standards,” she said, catching Oliver’s outraged look.

“Don’t tell me you’re going into a real battle and don’t want a drink, Oliver,” said Angelina calmly as she poured, and that was that.

Alicia and Katie and Oliver looked at her expectantly. Angelina searched for the words, and found there was really only one thing suited to the occasion. “Fuck Voldemort.”

“FUCK VOLDEMORT!”

And they did.

But oh God, the price they paid.

* * *

The Leaky was too well-known so they usually frequented a tiny hole-in-the-wall further down the street. The clientele was younger and the enchanted jukebox played muggle hits as well as the Weird Sisters, Mega Maggots, and the Bent Banshees, and that was perfect for the Twins. Perhaps half the entire current range of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes had first been dreamed up in this pub.

“Alright, alright, what about this, George? Prank greeting cards.”

“You’re crazy, Fred.”

“Cards that won’t stop singing. Howler cards. Exploding confetti cards. Exploding firework cards!”

George finished his beer and signalled to the barman for another. The barman hesitated, then poured as George slapped a handful of Sickles on the counter. “Confetti yes, fireworks, I dunno,” said George. “Cheers, Fred.”

“It’s brilliant I tell you. Mud in your eye,” said his twin brother, and they drank. Then, quietly, Fred asked: “How’s the family?”

“Same old. They’re doing well. You should see the sprogs, it’s a hoot,” snickered George. “Ron and Gin and Harry and good ol’ Hermione, sneaking around trying not to get caught shagging like rabbits. God, the sights I’ve walked in on...”

Fred chortled along with George, and he finished the pint. The bell over the door jingled and new customers came in, but the twins barely glanced that way.

“Speaking of which. About her... you should do something about it, George,” said Fred kindly. “I see all the signs and I know you do too. She’s waiting on you. Go be a gentleman, Georgey-boy, go on.”

George sighed. “Not you too. Look, I get enough of this crap from Bill and Charlie, alright?”

“You two need each other. Besides, it’s too quiet around the flat.”

All at once, George’s face crumpled. “You don’t get to say that. Not you. Not you! YOU don’t say that!”

Fred said nothing, he only smiled, and walked away. George turned his head quickly to follow him, but as always, Fred slid out the corner of his eye and was g...

And then it was another Weasley brother standing in front of him.

This time, it was Ron they’d sent. Good old Ron, lanky and solid and biting his lip in sympathy as he came to find his older brother sitting alone at the bar hunched over a half-empty glass. On the counter beside him was one untouched full pint, the frothy head long since evaporated.

“Come on, George,” said Ron gently. “There, I’ve got you. Let’s get you home.”

* * *

She was a girl made of facts and reason.

That was just the way she was wired.

“Dutch courage,” she said to herself, eyeing the glass of probably cheap plonk as if it was poison. Which technically it was.

“What’s that?” asked Ginny.

“Dutch courage,” she repeated. “It’s a muggle term, meaning the confidence gained from drinking alcohol, according to the Cambridge English Dictionary. Although,” she amended, “it’s derogatory to Dutch people and we probably shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind in case I meet anyone from Orange Tulip Land,” said Ginny, rolling her eyes. “You certainly don’t need that sort of thing, Hermione, you’re one of the bravest people I know!”

Probably just hyperbole, thought Hermione, as that would be quite something, given that Ginny hung around with Aurors and Quidditch players and her boyfriend Harry Potter, or ‘His Excellency Most Spiffing Chosen Boy Who Lived To Kick Voldemort’s Arse’ as George called him. She picked up the glass, sipped it carefully, decided she quite liked the taste of Chateau Diagon Alley or whatever this was, and had a bigger swig.

Here’s a fun fact: it takes 6 minutes for the brain to react to alcohol.

Six minutes later, she didn’t think she felt any different. Warmer perhaps, but the New Year party was in full swing and Hermione thought maybe it was just the ambient temperature rising from all the people circulating, moving, dancing, talking, laughing.

Fun fact: drinking is ‘fun’ because alcohol lessens tension, eases social interaction, and reduces inhibitions.

Hermione sat in her corner and nursed her glass and knew she wasn’t really a social drinker, or any kind of drinker, or even at all ‘sociable’ to begin with. She envied how effortlessly Ginny and Bill and Parvati and everyone else were visibly enjoying themselves; Hermione would honestly prefer a nice book, a pot of peppermint tea, and perhaps with the company of...

Breathless from joking with Aurors and Obliviators and Patrolwizards and friends, Ron flung himself down beside her and threw an arm around her, and Hermione’s stomach fluttered pleasantly. “Alright there, Hermione?” He followed her gaze towards the wineglass. “Not poisoned, is it? Cause that’s no fun, believe me.”

Fact: I want to say I...

“That’s not funny, Ron, you could’ve died,” chided Hermione, although she couldn’t help giggling. “No, I just... it’s Dutch courage.”

“What’s that?” Hermione told him about English soldiers and gin and bravery, and the way he looked at her as he listened made her feel warm all over. “Nice. You know everything, Hermione,” Ron said admiringly.

“Not everything,” said Hermione wistfully. “I don’t know how to have fun at parties. Well, maybe that’s one more thing I do know now,” she joked lamely.

Fact: I...

Ron laughed at her probably atrocious attempt at humour, and said “Rubbish party anyway. Too many plonkers just wanting to be seen with heroes like Harry and Neville” (characteristically, Ron excluded himself from that category, Hermione observed) “and they’re only here because Kingsley said they absolutely had to be. I’d much rather have a quiet night in at home with you, Crookshanks, a nice fire, maybe a...”

No, I don’t know everything, thought Hermione. But I know this fact. “I love you, Ron Weasley.” And she grabbed him and snogged the hell out of him, ignoring the catcalls and cheers that rose all around.

Was it really the Dutch stuff, or was it all her own self, after all?

To be continued...

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #canon fest romantic #submission #tw: alcoholism #tw: referenced death #tw: language

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plumbsimplytx · 3 years ago

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sewerlinekaty · 1 year ago

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lefaystrent · 5 years ago

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Has virgil ever had a break down infront of anyone in the nursing home au. Like freaked out becuse of police sirens outside of the building or on tv or a documetery of prision is played on the luchroom tv when he went to make" fucking mac and cheese™️" also im sad now cus all i think of is logan dying and then a when romans about to die he tells virgil "i know what my next adventure is. Im going to find Logan. Dont worry ill be fine" and thencloses his eyes to sleep but dosent wake up;-;.

First of all, hello sadness! Loganis the first to go yes, and you can bet your bottom dollar Roman would saysomething along those lines. (Or alternatively, the both of them discover thefountain of youth and never have to die. :D)

As for Virgil, he tries his very hardestnot to show his weaknesses, but sometimes…they just happen. The first time it happens in front of other people at the nursing home is written below the cut.

WARNINGS: in-depth descriptions of a panic attack, ptsd

Nursing Home AU Masterlist

It happens when Virgil is inRemus’s room cleaning up one of his messes.

Remus adamantly disagrees on theterminology of his ‘messes’.

“It’s art! You prudes wouldn’t haveany artistic sense if it bit you in the butthole!”

Virgil snorts, “You could have justleft it with ‘butt’.”

The old man grins, showing off asmile that’s missing half of its teeth. “But butthole sounds so much juicier.”

“I will pay you to never say thatagain.”

“This is payback for destroying mylife’s work.”

Virgil looks at him with a raisedbrow.

Then he looks pointedly back at thewall that features a giant penis drawn with smeared ketchup.

Virgil has no idea where Remussmuggled this much ketchup into his room.

Patton comes into the room. Heglances at the ‘artwork’ on the wall and doesn’t look the slightest bitsurprised. Someone must have spread the word to him.

Remus doesn’t look at all ashameddespite Patton’s disapproving expression.

“We’ve talk about this,” Pattonadmonishes.

“You talked, I ignored.”

“Remus. No…phallic imagerydisplayed in the building.”

“THIS IS HOMOPHOBIC!” Remusscreeches.

Virgil just shakes his head andcontinues wiping down the wall.

For the next couple of minutes helistens to the two of them talk behind him. Patton continues to try to reasonwith Remus, and Remus continues to be unreasonable. Same song and dance asevery day.

But then Remus yells something thatsticks with Virgil.

“This place is a prison!” hebemoans. “Give me back my freedom, George Washington!”

And it’s kinda funny and Remus’sstyle of random and dramatic, but …

This place is aprison.

Maybe. In some ways.

Like the small cell-like rooms.

Or not being allowed to leave for manyof those who lived here.

Seeing the same faces day in andday out.

Always having eyes on you, watchingeverything you do.

But for the most part?

You didn’t have to worry if yourcellmate would strangle you in your sleep.

Or keeping your head down in thecafeteria, because last time you made eye contact with someone they took it asa challenge.

Or choosing to forsake personalhygiene just so you wouldn’t leave yourself open to being cornered in theshowers.

The way they’d size you up quick aspredator or prey, and God help you if they thought of you as the latter.

As scared shitless as Virgil hadbeen, crying into his pillow almost every night because it was always so coldand the thin standard blanket did nothing to fight the chill…

Virgil had never in his life had toact so tough and mean. He learned to spit his words harshly enough to makeothers second guess their assumptions of an easy target. He hissed and bit anyhand that tried to touch him.

Virgil doesn’t realize at first,but he has stopped cleaning up Remus’s mess.

His hand lingers, rag pressedagainst the wall until it drags down and lays limply.

He stares, and while the beigepaint brings warmth to the room, it somehow fades to the steel gray he had tosee day after day.

Distantly he hears voices behindhim, but they become a muted hum, like the echoes from down the row of cells.He can hear footsteps, the guards pacing up the corridor.

“Virgil?”

A hand on his shoulder.

It burns like acid.

Virgil’s entire body tenses up, alive wire ready to strike but his vision’s gone all tunnel-y and he can’t seewhere the enemy is.

“Virgil. Virgil, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” Virgil pushesthe words out with all the effort it takes to move a car out of a muddy bank.

He’s just now catching on thatmaybe he’s having a panic attack, but that doesn’t stop it from happening. Ifanything, it just makes it worse and he struggles to decipher past frompresent. It all muddles together, and he can’t move, can’t turn his head, can’tstop staring at the gray—brown—gray wall.

“Don’t touch me,” Virgil saysagain, breath kicking into a concerning pace. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me,don’t ever fucking touch me.”

All at once the hand is gone.

The burn of acid remains.

Patton is at a complete loss.

Virgil was fine just a minute ago.

But then he’d gotten quiet— which wasn’tunlike him, ya know? But he hadn’t responded to either of them when spoken todirectly, and that definitely was unlike him.

So Patton tried to get hisattention, thinking maybe he’d been lost in thought.

He’d never seen Virgil’s eyes sowide and terrified.

And his shoulders, they startedmoving up and down as his breathing shallowed out.

And his words—so aggressive thatPatton genuinely believed for a second that Virgil was one second away fromlashing out at him.

Patton keeps his hands to himselfafter that, but he lingers beside Virgil, reluctant to leave him likethis—whatever this is.

Is he angry at Patton? Upset withwhat they were talking about? Patton begs Virgil to tell him what’s going on,but it’s like Virgil can’t even hear him.

“Just keep talking to him,” Remussuggests.

“It’s not working though,” Pattonsays, voice dripping with worry. Virgil’s really starting to edge towardshyperventilating. An allergic reaction? But Virgil has never mentioned—and hehasn’t eaten anything recently—

“What’s going on here?” Dee asks,poking his head in.

Virgil can hear him at the doorway,kind of like in an out of body sort of way.

He’s never had a freak out this badaround them—had been so proud of himself for making it this long.

Now their eyes are on him, andVirgil feels their pinprick gazes stabbing into the back of his neck. The panicramps up another couple of notches.

Patton looks pleadingly at Dee.“He’s—he’s having some kind of attack. I don’t know what happened.”

“Oh shit,” Dee says eloquently.

For all that Dee oozes confidenceand spins pretty words, comforting an emotionally distressed rival is kinda outof his range of specialties. He stands there, slack-jawed and hesitating.

That won’t do at all.

“Just fucking talk to him,” Remussays bitingly and gets up from his bed.

He ambles over to Virgil and pullsa chair up close enough to him but far away enough to not startle him.

Virgil startles anyway.

“Whatever you’re seeing, kid, it’snot real,” Remus tells him. His eyes are bright and mad and clever. “They wantyou to think it’s real, and yeah okay, it was real at some point, wasn’t it? Butit’s not anymore. You’re not there. It’s over. You can come out now.”

It takes a minute, and Virgilshudders, and tears are streaming down his face.

But he’s listening.

Remus leans forward, elbows proppedon his knees. “You’re safe now. They already did the hurting. So tell them togo fuck themselves. They don’t get to touch you anymore.”

Virgil slows to a calm.

He feels numb.

Drained.

But the walls have stopped crushinghim and he can breathe again.

“Better?” Patton asks from theother side of him. He never left his side for a moment.

Virgil nods jerkily, unable to talkat the moment.

“Need anything? Water? Anything?”

Virgil takes too long to think,thoughts sluggish.

“Let’s go talk to Logan!” Remusblurts out.

He hops out of his chair andmotions for Virgil to stand. Noticeably, he doesn’t try touching Virgil. Heholds out his hand in offer if Virgil needs help standing up.

“His nerdy talk can bore you rightto sleep. Let’s go, Emo. Upsy-daisy.”

Virgil takes his hand and stands.

He hesitates, gesturing at the wallas if to say, “But I still need to clean it up.”

Remus waves his concern off. “Don’tworry about that. Dee will clean it up. Dee loves cleaning up mymesses.”

Dee gives him a dark look butdoesn’t say anything. He stands aside and lets the two of them leave the room,Remus guiding a quiet Virgil by the hand.

Patton remains, though he staresafter them. “I’m still not sure what happened. He was fine and then … Iguess something must have triggered it.”

Dee shrugs, rubbing his glovedhands together self-consciously. “Everyone has their own demons.”

And when Remus had seen Virgildescend into the madness of memory, like had recognized like.

_______________________________________________________________

General Tag List: @spectralheartt @a-pastel-pan @rose-gold-roman @ijustrealizedhowdumbmynamewas @katie-the-noble-fangirl @yourroyalydramaticanxiousness @aroundofapplesauce @merlybird500 @beach-fan @jemthebookworm @randomsandersides @gamerfreddie @unring-this-bell @analogicallythinking @lilygold23 @levy-the-b00kw0rm @tacochippy @accio-hufflepuff-power1 @just-another-rainbowblog @georganabanana @grey-says-heck @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @thesynysterunknown @idont-know-what-im-doing @idioticsky @fadingglowcloud @whizzie72 @theinvisiblespoon @greyyy523 @opaque-puppet @just-fic-me-up @wowimsogoddamnoriginal @sos-fandoms @loganeatsbooks @trust-is-overrated @theitalianalchemist @im-crunchie @mourning–star @4amanxiety @hogwarts-my-love @enby-phoenix @justanotherpurplebutterfly @internet-or-sleep @absolutesandersidestrash @seaspider10 @nonasficcollection @satanblessi @an-absolute-failure @analogical-mess @noisyeggpizzapatrol @hamilsandersfam @cefinitely-rolo @thgjclw @knight-shives @no-no-no-no-6 @savingshae @rabbitsartcorner @buddypallady @midnight-tragedyy @007ardra @fandomloverangel @dorkoverse @moodytrash06 @mirrorz-n-starz @idunnosong @lcrnbw @ollyollyoxinfree @cuter-on-the-inside @its-high-time-that-i-dropped-in @crazy-rat-man @i-need-a-life-8903 @modsnow

Nursing Home List: @thirteenashmctrash @figurative-falsehood @oddball-wqri@comicsimpson @hit-or-mish @delphionix @rabbitsartcorner @nugs-and-hugs-not-drugs @toostressedforthisbs @fluctuating-fangirl @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @bestbluebouquet @the-aroace-queen-in-the-quiver @logans-doodles @herestheanxietea @theblankest123 @lia-quanz

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

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CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Episode 1- Walk of Shame

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: Someone’s dead. Bucky has some plums and despairs at Steve’s choice of breakfast. They go to DC to try and convince Katie to come back and help with the case but she aint having it…coz she hates Steve’s guts… Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Dark Comedy themes basically CSI:NY + Brooklyn 99 = CSI: Steeb.

Episode Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (yeah she still doesn’t like him this Episode…)

Song for Episode: Let Her Go by Passenger

A/N: Contains Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes. You don’t need to have read that series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this off from.

Also, our knowledge of American Policing and Brooklyn is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

PLEASE REBLOG and COMMENT!

Tags are open.

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List

Main Masterlist

Steve turned the key in the lock of his apartment, stepped inside and closed the door behind him as slowly and quietly as possible so as not to wake up Bucky. It was still quite early, he had been on the usual morning run with Sam, something that the men did daily during the week unless work cases got in the way. He walked through the hallway and tossed his keys on the kitchen counter before grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. He practically drained it in one before he set a fresh pot of coffee to brew and then headed for the shower. He stopped on his way down the corridor as he saw the door to the spare bedroom, now Bucky’s, was wide open. Steve peered into the bedroom but there was no trace of Bucky and his bed was perfectly made, cushions in place. He sighed and went into his own bedroom, taking off his clothes and trainers and heading into the en-suite. He turned on the shower and stepped under the warm spray, tilting his head to greet the water as it cascaded down on him.

Bucky had returned from an undercover mission in Russia almost 7 months ago and had immediately taken possession of the spare room in Steve’s apartment. What had started as a favour to a friend who had returned from a long term mission overseas and was trying now to re-settle in New York, had turned into Steve seemingly permanently (and reluctantly for that matter) sharing his flat with his lead Sergeant and sometimes annoying friend. Their personalities were as opposed as day and night, but there was a bond between them that went back to their teenage years and both secretly hoped it would last till the end of the line.

Rinsing off his hair he turned off the shower and stepped out. He gave his hair a quick rub over and then, wrapping a towel round his waist he headed into the bedroom and over to the dresser which stood against the wall by the foot of his bed. His eyes fell to the framed photo on the top of it and he blew out a little huff as 2 laughing faces greeted him back. It was a photo of him and Katie, a selfie that she had snapped whilst they had been in Central Park. Katie had positioned them to get a squirrel in the back ground and it had worked. Just as Katie had pushed the button the squirrel had looked directly at the camera from behind them and it had sent the pair of them into a fit of laugher. Up until Bucky moving in, this photo had been in his living room by the stereo. But now it stayed in the private of his room. He couldn’t bring himself to place it in a drawer.

He dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt, before grabbing his electric razor to sort his facial hair out, ensuring his once again present (albeit shorter than before) beard was clean, crisp and defined. Once he had finished the rest of his morning routine he made his way to the kitchen and poured himself freshly brewed coffee into his favoured breakfast mug, one that was adored with the words “O Captain! My Captain!” a quote from the poem by Walt Whitman as read by Robin Williams in “Dead Poet Society” one of his favourite films. It had been a joke gift from Katie when he had gotten his promotion, just another reminder of how good their friendship used to be. He had just grabbed a piece of left over pizza from the fridge when the front door open and he heard Bucky taking off his shoes as he muttered something under his breath. When Bucky entered the kitchen Steve was leaning on the kitchen counter sipping from his mug and looking at his friend from under his long eyelashes.

“That your breakfast?“ Steve asked nodding towards a brown paper bag Bucky was sporting.

"Yup. That yours?” he answered looking at the pizza in Steve’s hand Steve shrugged. “Man, have a plum instead” Bucky offered.

"No, thanks.“ Steve refused curtly.

"You know breakfast is the most important meal of the day, don’t you?” Bucky quipped, biting into a plum. “That nutrition program you took years ago clearly didn’t teach you shit” he snorted.

“You’re hilarious" Steve deadpanned. “Where did you sleep last night? Or should that be with WHOM did you sleep last night?” Steve was asking both out of curiosity and as a way to distract attention from his eating habits. “What’s the dame’s name this time? That’s if you even bothered to ask.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve drained his mug. “Name’s Alex seeing as you’re that interested, granddad.” Bucky informed. Steve merely arched an eyebrow and shoved his now empty mug in the dishwasher.

“I’m impressed” Steve said, walking out of the kitchen and heading to the living room “Have you remembered what Miss Friday was called yet?” “Maybe I always knew full well but didn’t want to tell you as you’re a judgemental dick.” Bucky shot back, following him into the living room “Just because you’re not getting any.”

Steve snorted and shook his head “I really don’t care about the fact you seem to be working your way through the entire female population of New York…” “Admit it, you’re backed up.” Bucky said, looking at him and Steve rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you got any?”

Steve really wasn’t prepared to divulge that. It had been Christmas time, with Katie…7 months ago. And he had no desire to tell Bucky. Instead, he ignored him and looked at his watch.

“We’re leaving in five” Steve said “Get ready Punk.”

"I am ready, jerk" Bucky replied gesturing to his outfit.

“You’re seriously gonna got to work wearing the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?“ Steve looked at him with an expression of disgust on his face. "Talk about the walk of shame.”

“Well, yesterday was my day off so nobody at the station will know what the hell I was wearing" Bucky replied with a wide playful smile.

"Whatever.“ Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while saying "Take your weapon and your badge and let’s go, it’s getting late.”

“Aye, Aye Captain” Bucky said miming a salute.

********

“Captain Rogers” greeted the security guard at the door of the station. “Sergeant Barnes.”

“Good morning, Heimdall” Steve greeted back while Bucky acknowledged the man with a nod of his head.

As the pair headed for the floor where the Investigation Unit of the 101st was located, Bucky pulled out his phone and started typing.

“Texting her?” Steve asked looking down at Bucky’s phone.

“Who’s her?” Bucky replied.

“Jeez, Buck, the girl you spent last night with. Alex, was it?” Steve scoffed.

“Oh.., nah.” he said with a frown “What would I?” he continued. “And you can say bang, Steve. You’re not a medieval bard” a mischievous smile now spreading on his face.

“Bucky, I swear to God one day….” Steve started to say but was interrupted by the melodious voice of Wanda as he got out of the elevator, Bucky following him cackling.

“Good morning, Steve.” Wanda said “Coffee?” she asked looking at him with doe eyes.

“No thanks, Wanda. Already had breakfast” he replied while Bucky muttered “If that’s what you call it”. Steve turned to give an icy look to Bucky who retreated to his desk.

“I’ve left the reports you asked for yesterday on your desk.” Wanda informed him. “Would that be all?”

“Thanks, Wanda.” he said before ordering “Assemble the team in the briefing room in fifteen.” and he walked towards where Natasha was scrolling through her phone and Clint was sat on his chair, his feet on the desk throwing a baseball against the nearby wall.

“Morning Romanoff” Steve said. Natasha lifted her eyes from the phone and acknowledged him.

“Rogers.”. She might seem to be engrossed on whatever she was doing with her phone but Steve knew she never missed a trick.

“Barton” the Captain raised his voice “You break something, you’re paying for it. We’re on a tight budget.” and with that he entered his office and shut the door behind him, something that was unusual for their Captain. His door normally remained open unless the conversation was private or he was pissed off.

As there was no one else in there with him, it was clearly the latter.

“He needs to get laid.” Clint said, turning back to Natasha, resuming his bouncing of his baseball again. Bucky let out a snort.

“He sure does” replied Natasha who suddenly threw her phone on her desk and got up to make her way towards Wanda’s counter.

“You should ask him out on a date” she whispered to Wanda leaning over her desk.

“Wh… What are you talking about” Wanda stuttered while closing the book she was reading and feeling the heat spread through her neck up to her cheeks.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him” Natasha added with a half-smile.

“That obvious” Wanda enquired covering her cheeks, which were now deep red, with her hands showing Natasha her chipped black nail polish. Bucky watched the exchange with a slight smirk.

Natasha only shrugged and retorted “Well, you should find the courage to do it in that witchery book you’re reading” she said pointing to the paperback with a movement of her head. “Scarlett Witch”.

Bucky picked up the phone, there was a message on his desk to call Stark about some evidence on a case, turning away to allow Wanda to get over her embarrassment. He heard the voice of Deputy Commissioner Fury and turned to watch as he greeted Natasha and Wanda.

"Good morning, ladies.“

“Good morning Sir…” They both said in unison as her swept past them heading towards Steve’s office. He rapped on the door and didn’t wait for an answer before he swung it open, causing Steve to glance up slightly puzzled. His team knew to wait for him to call them in before entering if his door was closed. At seeing his boss he immediately stood.

“Sir.”

“At ease Captain” The deputy commissioner spoke, waving his hand. Steve gestured for him to take the seat opposite his desk.

“You hear with a mission?”

“You could say that.” Fury said, “Get Barnes in here and close the door. This one’s sensitive.”

“Sir…” Steve frowned slightly and stood up, heading out into the main office.

“Buck…”

Bucky was by this point on the phone, leaning back in his chair feet on his desk. He looked at Steve, nodding to acknowledge him, holding his hand up, finger on his right hand extended instructing Steve to keep quiet.

“That’s great Stark!” he paused, “So it’s definitely a match…excellent, yeah…sure…thanks…”

He placed the phone down “Science Bros got a match on the bullet from the mini-mart robbery. Matches the gun Simon Cranston had in his possession when we brought him in. We got him bang to rights!”

“Good, listen, Buck…Fury’s here. Says he has a case but it’s sensitive…” Understanding immediately Bucky stood up. He smoothed down his blue and white button down and followed Steve into his office, closing the door behind him.

“We have a situation.” Fury said. “Body, found by a dog walker early hours of this morning. Early shift called it in.”

“Ok, well we’ve not held briefing yet…” Bucky said, trailing off as he saw the frown on Steve’s face.

“What is it sir?” “Technically it’s the 99s patch…” Fury said, “But as soon as Peralta realised who it was he called Holt who in turn called me. This is one for the 101st.”

“Why?” Steve asked, frowning.

“It’s Senator Ross.” Fury said, looking at him.

“Shit.” Steve sighed

“I’m not gonna lie Steve, as much as I admire and like Holt, your unit is more geared up for this and the 99 are currently swamped on a drugs case any way so…” Fury shrugged.

“Right, I’ll get the team onto it right away.”

“Odinson and his team are currently manning the scene, I had them take over from Holt’s guys as soon as I found out.” Fury nodded “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that we need absolute discretion about this, at least for the time being. I’ll liaise with the top brass and Capitol Hill. Once we know what we’re dealing with we can discuss how we handle the press. For now, keep them away.” “Sir.” Steve agreed.

“I trust you can take it from here?”

Steve nodded and watched as his boss left before he turned to Bucky. “Get Romanoff and Barton down there now, and then get onto Wilson and Stark. I’ll call Holt, find out the details and sort out taking over. Then we’ll head down there.”

“Sure.” Bucky said, heading out into the office, closing the door behind him.

Steve paused for a second, before he picked up the phone sighing. A murder always attracted attention but when it was a public figure that interest was going to be relentless.

*****

It was almost ten when Steve pulled his car to a stop near Greenway Terrace in Brooklyn Bridge Park. Bucky got out of the car closing the door behind him and put his phone in the back pocket of his black jeans and waited for Steve to reach his side before they both started walking towards the tightly secured area.

They approached Thor who was standing by the Scene Crime Do Not Cross yellow tape ordering to one of his immediate subordinates to remove unnecessary individuals from the scene and keep the tourists and the press as far away as possible. It was a bright July morning and this part of the park offered the tourists, and the public in general, a beautiful shady sitting area with stunning views to New York Harbor.

Once they exchanged a few words with Thor who assured them he would keep the press at bay, they ducked under the tape and headed to the area where Detectives Romanoff and Barton were examining the surroundings of the crime scene.

"Romanoff, Barton. What do we got?” Bucky heard Steve ask the pair of detectives.

He was looking around trying to get used to the scene before him. He had spent the last years mostly doing undercover work, gathering intel, bringing down drugs or arms dealers and smugglers so, it had been a while since he had been in a presumed murder scene.

“We’re sweeping the area for casings or slugs.” Natasha said.

“Nothing, Cap, according to Wilson there’s no gunshot wound, so…” Clint added.

“Footprints? Vehicle tracks?” Steve enquired.

“No vehicle tracks. And seeing as this is a granite terrace no chance of footprints either.” Clint replied. “We are searching the area for some mud or dirt marks though."

Steve nodded, analysing the information his detectives had delivered, his hands perched on his belt. "Any indications that the crime may have occurred somewhere else?"

“Nope.” Natasha said “But we won’t know for certain until forensics finish.”

"All right. I want you two to investigate the surrounding neighbourhood. This took place presumably last night and there’s this hill over there that separates the area from Furman Street, so it is unlikely that we find any witnesses.” Steve elaborated.

“Got it Cap…” Clint said. “We’ll talk to the neighbours. See if anybody has seen anything suspicious.”

“Romanoff…” Steve started to say before Natasha cut in.

“We’ll visit the surrounding shops and businesses to check surveillance footage. I know the drill , Rogers.” to which Steve couldn’t help but smile.

“Ok. See you at the station when you’re done.” Steve dismissed them and looked at Bucky who was watching as the forensics assistants were taking photos of the crime scene and the corpse from every angle possible.

“Ready to see what Ross has to say?” Steve asked Bucky as he began to walk towards Sam Wilson, the unit Pathologist and Tony Stark, lead forensic who was gathering evidence.

“Didn’t know you were one for black humour, punk” Bucky replied suppressing a laugh.

“Wilson?” Steve greeted Sam. “What do you have?”

“Hi, Rogers. You prefer the cause or the manner?” Sam shot back.

“Is the order relevant?” Steve asked smiling at Sam’s playful ways.

“Not in this case.” Sam said.

“What about the time of death?” Bucky asked.

Sam pondered about it for a few seconds before replying “I estimate it between three and five a.m.”

“What? Two hours span? Couldn’t you be more specific?” Bucky said surprised by Wilson answer.

“Where did you get this guy, Rogers?” Tony entered the exchange. “Do you want the exact hour and minute? That’s impossible unless you were here with a stopwatch!"

"Stark.” Sam tried to shut Tony.

“All right. Call it, Wilson” Tony said with a sigh but glaring at Bucky.

“Well, based on the corpse temperature and his body mass and taking into account muscle stiffening and blood setting, I could give you from three to four thirty in the morning, but we’ll have to wait until I’ve opened him up to be more accurate.” Sam elaborated.

“The guy is as pale as a ghost” Bucky tried to say something meaningful.

“No shit, Sherlock. It’s called palor in scientific jargon.” Tony quipped visibly annoyed at Bucky’s presence.

“That’s enough!” Steve raised his voice. “Wilson, please, continue.”

“All right. So, it looks like he was killed here. There’s enough blood on the ground and no sign that he was moved after the killing took place…the murderer knocked him down first, nasty wound on the back of the head and he took a bit of a beating too. Lots of bruising to his face.” Sam explained.

“Quite a violent MO. Rage…” Steve mused.

“Yeah. If the cereal didn’t choke him to death, the blunt force trauma did it.” Sam said looking down at the corpse. “But again, I’ll know more when…”

“Hang on, what do you mean? What cereal?” Steve cut him off while sharing a surprised look with Bucky.

“I pulled this out of his throat with a pair of tweezers.” Tony said to Steve showing him an evidence bag with what looked like some sort of breakfast cereal.

“Are those Puffed Rice?” Bucky asked gaining a glare from Tony. Sam and Steve looked at him at the same time.

“That’s one hell of an odd calling card.” Steve whispered gazing past the other men into the river front. “What kind of message is cereal conveying?”

“Well, I think that…” Bucky was beginning to say but was interrupted by a raging Tony.

“Barnes, would you shut up? We’re trying to work here and your presence is disturbing enough without your silly comments.”

Steve wanted to warn Tony about his remarks but things were a bit rocky between them after what had happened at the Commendation party, so he let it be.

“Thanks, Wilson. Let me know when you’re ready to do the PM.” Steve said. He always liked to attend the Post Mortems in person, if possible. It was easier to ask questions and understand as Sam worked.

“Yeah, well, cut the cheque.” Sam replied.

Steve smiled at the pathologist, who was waiting for Judge Hill’s order to remove the body and take it to the morgue, and waved both men goodbye as he ordered Bucky to follow him with a movement of his head.

“What do you think?” Steve asked him

“Well before Stark jumped in, and by the way that guy has a stick up his ass, I was about to say I think we need a profiler” Bucky replied while both men walked their way back to the car.

Steve was quiet for a minute before saying “I know someone."

Bucky had noticed Steve hesitation before speaking and was about to ask him who he was talking about but was interrupted by Steve’s phone ringing. So he waited patiently leaning on the car door while Steve got the call. He was scrolling through his own messages when Steve came back with a serious demeanour.

"We’re stopping at Police Plaza. It was Pierce, he wants to meet me at headquarters.”

*******

Bucky headed into the coffee shop over the road whilst Steve was waved up to Pierce’s office.

“Captain Rogers…” Pierce greeted him. “I’m sure you can guess what this is about.” “Ross.” Steve nodded, taking a seat as Pierce nodded.

“Ross and I were at University together.” Pierce said, “So this…well, it’s kind of personal for me.” “I’m sorry to hear that sir.” Steve nodded.

“So, I want to be kept in the loop on this one. Normally I don’t take an interest in every body we find, I can’t but…”

“I understand.” Steve assured the Commissioner.

“So, do we have a cause of death?”

“Well…” Steve scratched at his chin “We won’t know for sure until we can do the Post Mortum, which hopefully will be later today but…well, it’s odd. It was either a blow to the head or cereal.”

“Cereal?” Pierce blinked.

“Yes, Forensics recovered a quantity of the stuff in his throat. But like I say, we won’t know for sure until Dr Wilson has done his job.” Pierce sighed. “Who uses Cereal as a murder weapon?” “Well, on that…” Steve sighed. “I think we could do with a profiler.”

“Whatever you need.” Pierce said, “I’ll pull some strings, get you someone from the FBI, anything.” “With all due respect Sir…” Steve looked at him “I’d rather bring in a profiler who’s in the force…and I know just the person. But I’d like the chance to speak to them first. They won’t feel happy about simply being forced into this if that makes sense.” “I really don’t care if they’re happy or not.” Pierce said, his jaw twitching “I want the A- team on this, Rogers, no matter what.” “Absolutely, and you have my word. If they don’t agree I’ll call, then you can pull whatever strings you need.”

“Who do you have in mind?” Pierce looked at him. They continued to talk, Pierce promising to make budget available for all the overtime he needed before he headed down in the elevator, leaning back against the wall. Working a murder was always stressful as you were under so much pressure to bring the perp to justice, but with Pierce now being personally interested, the pressure was going to double. He stepped out of the cool air conditioned lobby of HQ and called Fury to run his idea passed him. Fury gave him the green light and with that he crossed the road, finding Bucky was on the phone.

“I don’t believe in co-incidences Romanoff.” he said, nodding to Steve “It could be nothing but just keep an open mind…” Steve gestured to the phone and Bucky handed it over.

“Romanoff, its Rogers.” he said,

“Hey Cap.” “Listen, I need to head out of town with Sergeant Barnes for the evening, related to this case. We’re bringing in a profiler and I need to speak to them in person. Can you liaise with Wilson and ensure either your or Clint, or both are at the PM. Usual stuff…” “Sure.” there was a pause “Who’s the profiler, anyone we know?” There was a lilt to her voice that told Steve she knew exactly who he had in mind.

“Dismissed” he said simply, ending the call and tossing the phone back to Bucky. “What’ the coincidence?”

“Oh, erm… Ross’s real name is Paul Thaddeus Ross, he uses his middle name.” “So?” “PR…his initials, same as the cereal…puffed rice.” “That’s a bit tentative Buck” Steve said. “But good spot, we’ll bear it in mind.”

“So, you taking me on a trip?” Bucky looked at him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah.

“Anywhere nice?”

“DC.” Steve looked at him “The profiler I told you about. She lives there.” “She…oh, you’re talking about Stark…the little one?” Bucky said with a slight sigh. “You want me to drive with you to DC, to convince the woman that hates your guts to come back and work for you?” “Pretty much, yeah.” Steve nodded. “Why her man? You could bring in any profiler…” “Because she knows the team.” Steve said, “I explained this to Pierce. Getting that lot to trust an outsider to the force will be hard work and I don’t have time for Natasha pulling her grin of death shit. Profilers who are actually still active officers within the Police Service are a rare commodity and, well frankly Buck, she’s one of the best in the business.” “And you let her go…” Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “I wasn’t going to stand in the way of her taking an opportunity that was, frankly, too good to refuse.” Steve sighed. “Right.” Bucky said “and that’s all there was to it?” “Yup” Steve held his gaze as best he could. “You’re a shit liar.” Bucky grumbled, standing up “I take it we get an overnighter?” Steve smiled, knowing that was Bucky’s way of agreeing to come with him. “Yeah, we’ll stay tonight. If we leave within the hour we should be there for just before 6pm.” Steve said, checking his watch. “You’re the boss…” Bucky said, standing up “We best go grab a bag.”

Less than 30 minutes later the 2 of them were making their way out of Brooklyn, the address of the SHIELD unit building programmed into the GPS.

"So how you gonna play this?” Bucky asked, lounging back in the passenger seat of Steve’s Audi Q5. It made Bucky laugh how Steve’s newest purchase, the sleek steel grey Audi held every gadget and extra he could ever need and then some. Steve lived quite a frugal lifestyle. He had nice things, his apartment was furnished well, his clothes were a mixture of high end high street brands with the odd designer item thrown in, but he never bought what he didn’t need as such. His apartment was a total of 5 rooms including the bedrooms despite the fact he could easily afford a more grandiose place. Bucky knew that it was as a product of growing up without much, his mom had never been well off, and Steve was likely stashing most of his money for a rainy day.

But when it came to cars, Steve Rogers was happy to splurge.

The Captain shifted slightly and bit his bottom lip , his thumb rapping on the top of the steering wheel. "I’m gonna show her the case file. Ask her opinion. See what she makes of it…and hopefully it’s gonna grab her interest enough to make her agree to come back for a while…“ "And if it fails?” Steve hesitated. He looked at Bucky who gave a groan, spotting the look on his face. “You’ll go over her head…man she’s gonna hate you even more then!” “Not sure that’s possible.” Steve sighed

*******

“Steve…” Captain Phil Coulson stood up, greeting him warmly “It’s been a while.” “Indeed it has.” Steve smiled at the man he had worked a case with a few years back, one which saw Thor’s brother, Loki, put away for a very long time. “Almost 3 years I believe.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun huh?” Coulson smiled and Steve reciprocated.

“Sergeant, James Barnes…Captain Phil Coulson.” Steve introduced the two men. “Please, call me Bucky.”

Phil nodded and then gestured to the elevator “Shall we?”

They followed him in, their Visitors badges pinned to their chests

“So, Fury called ahead. You want Stark back?”

“In a nutshell.” Steve nodded “I can’t go into details but…we need a profiler, and this one’s already getting some high up attention. From our Commissioner no less.” “Yeah I won’t lie, I’m not happy about this.” Coulson sighed “She’s working a case on a very big Sex Trafficking ring at the moment so losing her will be a blow…”

“She is only on secondment.” Steve reminded the man “The deal was if we need her back…” “I know” Coulson assured Steve he understood, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Phil, I wouldn’t be doing this if I had a choice.” Steve said gently.

“That’s right, he wouldn’t. She hates him…” Bucky added. Steve shot him a glare.

Coulson frowned “Really? She’s never had anything but praise for her old team and commanding officer.” Steve felt something in his chest warm slightly.

“But of course, that could just be professional courtesy.” Coulson finished.

The warmth disappeared.

The elevator stopped and they stepped out into a large, modern, open planned office. Coulson led them through the throngs of desks, towards the right side of the room. Steve heard her before he saw her.

“I really don’t give a shit…” she was saying, her tone exasperated “This is a big chance for us to nail this guy. So you tell Sergeant Jones his men are needed…and don’t make me go to Coulson…”

As they approached her desk Steve saw her slam the phone down and rub her hands over her face and he could already smell her day perfume- Daisy By Marc Jacobs. A light, woody fragrance yet fresh and feminine at the same time. Whenever he caught the smell of it on anyone else he instantly thought of her. It was alluring, comforting…

Her head raised, her green eyes locked onto his and she shook her head. “You have got to be shitting me…” she spluttered out.

“Sergeant…” Coulson looked at her, “Really?”

“Sorry Sir, I’m just…surprised, shall we say, to see Captain Rogers. And Sergeant Barnes.” her tone was even but her eyes were flashing dangerously.

“Strictly business…” Steve held his hands up “Got a case I need your help on.”

“Out of all the profilers…you need me?”

“He says you’re the best.” Bucky jumped in. At that her face softened somewhat and she gave a sigh and turned to her boss.

“Can we use the briefing room?”

Coulson nodded “I’ll get Jackson to book it out for you.” “Thanks.” she said, moving her chair back. She stood up and Steve took her in, dressed as always for work, a button down (light pink this time) the top few buttons undone revealing a navy blue vest top coupled with black jeans and tan knee high boots. “Gentlemen…” She motioned for them to follow her and they headed into the large room at the back. She closed the door and perched on the desk at the front and looked at Steve expectantly. “So what made you drive 4 hours over here to hear me tell you to fuck off instead of merely picking up the phone?” “This.” Steve said, handing her his phone after he pulled up the photos he’d had Tony email him.

“Holy shit…” she mumbled “Ross? He’s dead?”

Steve nodded “Commissioner Pierce is taking a personal interest on this, and given the odd calling card left, I’ve got a feeling this isn’t going to be the last body that turns up.” She looked at him, the pair of them sharing an understanding. Unless it was gang related, it was unusual for a calling card to be left by a onetime killer.

“Keep going…” Steve said, as she swiped across his screen. He watched as her mouth dropped open as she squinted at the screen, before looking at Steve, then Bucky, then back to the photo.

“Is that…puffed rice?” she asked.

“You got it.” Bucky nodded “But we won’t know if that’s what killed him until Wilson’s done the PM.” “Death by Cereal…” she snorted “A Cereal Serial killer…”

Despite himself, Steve felt his mouth curl up in a smile “I was hoping it would grab your attention.”

Katie bit the inside of her cheek “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” “Why cereal?” Bucky looked at her.

She scratched her head “Ok, so this is purely supposition, but when I was training to become a profiler, there was a case study about a killer in Minnesota. He was leaving Caviar in the mouths of his victims. They were upper class bankers and dealers, he was targeting them because he blamed them for his business going bankrupt. It was kind of a taunt really…” she bit her lip “But Cereal is something that’s so widely available, it can’t be that…maybe it’s the opposite. Look how dangerous something that you can see or take for granted every day can be…”

Bucky looked at Steve, and had to smile at the way the Captain was looking at the woman opposite him, his expression soft, almost proud.

“You said she was good Steve…” he said and Steve turned to him, giving him a smile. Katie held out his phone and he took it, his fingers brushing her slightly and she pulled her hand back immediately, a pink flush rising to her cheeks as she looked down at her legs which were swinging to and fro as she sat on the desk.

“So what do you say?” Steve asked softly

“I can’t.” she said after a pause.

“Katie…” “No, Steve.” she looked at him “I left Brooklyn to do a job here, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Pull someone in from the Bureau.”

“I don’t want someone from the Bureau.” Steve said “I need someone on this we can trust, someone that knows the team, someone that can get their hands dirty…”

She sighed and looked up at him, and he didn’t miss the flash of sadness across her face “The days of me jumping to your tune are over.” she said with a shrug “Sorry, you’ve had a wasted journey but no is my final answer. Good luck.” With that she hopped off the desk and left the room without looking back.

“Well that went well.” Bucky said, “I could say I told you so but…” “Don’t” Steve practically growled, his hands on the buckle of his belt. “Looks like I’m gonna have to do this the hard way.”

“Yeah she’s gonna have your balls for earrings.” Bucky turned to him. “Now I don’t know about you but I think we should check in with Romanoff about the PM and then go get a drink.” ***** “So you’re alive then?” Katie’s voice hit Steve’s ears as she shut the office door behind her. “Just ghosting me.”

“I’m not…” he started to protest but knew it was useless, she’d hit the nail on the head. He had been avoiding her. Completely.

“Why Steve?” she asked, her eyes brimming with tears “I thought…I thought it meant something to you, that I meant something to you…” “Sweetheart…” he sighed, walking out from his desk towards her “It did, you do, I just…” “You just what?” she looked up at him. “I wake up, and you’re gone…didn’t even stay for breakfast… and then you ignore me for 3 days?”

“I shouldn’t have let it get as far as it did.” he sighed.

“So you regret it?” “No, it’s not that…” he sighed “Katie, I’m your boss…this…us…” he waved his hand between them “it can’t happen.” “It’s a bit late for that…” Katie shook her head, the tears in her eyes were now replaced with a blazing fire, one that he knew only too well and he inwardly cringed at the verbal attack he was about to receive. Only it never came. Instead her voice remained level as she raised her chin to look at him straight on “You know, you pretend to be this moral guy, when all along you’re no different to the rest of them. You got what you wanted and now you’re not interested.” “Katie, that’s not what it was.” he sighed “I care about you, everything I said that night was true but…” “I’m gonna take that job in DC.” she said, cutting him off.

Steve sighed “There’s plenty of time to think about that. Don’t do anything rash…” “Well then give me a reason to stay.” she whispered, pleading with him as she stepped forward. “Steve, we could have something so good if you just give it a chance.” Steve’s hands fell to her hips, an automatic response, before he moved back, shaking his head. And that was the moment he saw her break. The disappointment in her eyes killed him and he couldn’t look at her anymore.

“I can’t.” he said, turning away.

She didn’t speak another word. Instead she turned and left, not even slamming the door behind her.

“The next day I signed the paper work to authorise the 2 year secondment.” Steve said, his fingers sliding across the label on the bottle of beer in front of him as he sat in the bar opposite the hotel with Bucky, finishing his explanation “She left at the weekend without speaking so much as another word to me, said her goodbyes to the team when she knew I wouldn’t be there.”

“You didn’t even try and fight for her?” Bucky looked at him, shaking his head “Man, what the actual fuck?” “Can you imagine the shit storm it would cause?” Steve sighed “One of us would have had to move units, and that would have been her, not me.” “Dude, you could have worked through that!” Bucky said “She was coming to DC, it’s not that far away. You could have seen each other at weekends, or in your free time…” “Maybe.” Steve sighed. If truth be told he’d thought about that a lot after she left. Thought about calling her and seeing if they could work it out, but the longer he left it the harder it got. And she ignored all the calls and texts he had sent her anyway. “It’s too late now.” he shook his head. “Do you love her?” Bucky looked at him. Steve hesitated for a second, considering the question. It was an easy answer in the end.

“I think in a way I always have.” Steve shrugged “As a friend anyway…”

“That’s not what I asked.” Bucky said simply.

Steve looked at him and sighed “Don’t make me say it Buck, please.”

That was all the confirmation Bucky needed. He shook his head and looked at his friend “You’re an idiot.” “I know.”

“How are you gonna feel when she comes back?” “Same as I always feel when she’s around.” Steve drained his bottle “Like that scrawny assed punk from Brooklyn that was always getting his ass kicked.”

“Well, just like old times then…” Bucky said, knocking back the rest of his drink before he clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder “I got ya back pal, till the end of the line.”

@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan

#csi rogers and barnes #csi au #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark #clint barton #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #bruce banner

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waterkaty · 3 years ago

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pmfpartner · 5 years ago

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virmillion · 5 years ago

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Ibytm - T minus 15 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 1,357

Logan furrows his brow and stares daggers at his computer, willing the trembling stacks of lines and curves to organize themselves into something intelligible. The towers of letters and numbers collapse, as does his head into his hands.

“Hey, spaceman, how much longer you gonna be here?” Roman asks, appearing behind Logan’s chair.

Logan buries his fingernails in his hair, massaging them toward the back of his head and playing with the arms of his glasses. “Ages, probably, and why ‘spaceman?’ Hardly a creative nickname for people working in a minor NASA offshoot. Couldn’t you do any better? It’s not like I’m the only one here wanting to be an astronaut.”

“Yeah, but you’re the only one here that’s so ridiculously dedicated to it. I mean, even Katie-Lee went home already, and she’s pretty much, like, head honcho or something.”

“You say that like I’m a new intern in need of exposition, rather than an employee who’s been well aware of her position for years. And it’s Miss Katie-Lee, which you’ll do well to remember.”

Roman drapes himself over Logan’s shoulder, stretching his arms over his head and blocking Logan’s view of the screen. “I don’t think I’ll be remembering that any time soon, but I suppose this is the part where I thank you for the suggestion.”

“Kindly remove yourself from my person. Unlike some people around here, I actually have important work to do.”

“Seriously? What is it, balancing more equations? Can’t you put that through google or something?”

“Google isn’t going to tell me in a clean five page report the exact moral conflicts related to launching a person into space and knowing their mission will take too long to survive a return trip, much less the mathematics required for them to build a system to get home on its own autopilot to pass along information they acquire at the destination that they can’t give directly from that long of a travel away. That’s not even taking into account the weight we need to factor in for the additional materials, or the mental toll we’ll be forcing on the traveler—we can’t exactly send someone with a terminal illness or someone on death row, since they certainly won’t be in the peak mental or physical condition necessary for the job, and you can get back to me whenever on how we break the news that we only want to give them a salary for the several limited months it’ll take to train them, before they get launched on what everyone knows to be a suicide mission. Everyone will know they’re doomed. Everyone.”

Barely even breathing, Roman slowly straightens. Well, it sounds like he’s barely breathing. Or, er, it doesn’t sound like that. All Logan can say for certain is that there’s an immense ringing in his ears that drowns out pretty much everything else. He drops his head to his desk.

“Are they actually planning a mission like that?”

“They want to be prepared for the unfortunately possible eventuality in which we might have to do that sort of thing. ‘We’ll have to make some sacrifices at one point or another,’ they say, as if I don’t already know that. As if I’m not already painfully aware of that. As if we don’t come into work every day knowing damn well that we’re all working ourselves to an early grave, because there’s virtually no way to expand our extraterrestrial horizons without losing a few lives along the way.” Logan winces at a sharp stab of pain against his temple. Another headache, no doubt.

“Even if it’s only a theoretical hypothetical, they wouldn’t have you working on it if they didn’t think it was a legitimate possibility.” Logan grunts a wordless confirmation at having heard the worry in Roman’s voice, but says nothing. Roman pulls out his phone and starts typing, only eliciting a response from Logan when whatever he’s doing flashes a bright light in Logan’s peripheral vision.

“What are you doing.” It’s not a question. It’s barely even an acknowledgement.

“Texting your husband proof that you need a vacation.”

“I don’t take vacations.”

“Duh, obviously I know that. If you took vacations, maybe you could be gone on an actual honeymoon.”

“Honeymoons are the free market’s way of draining more money from newlyweds who are too high on emotions to realize how much money they’re constantly flushing down the—”

“Yeah, I get it, communism for the win.”

“Socialism.”

“Same difference.”

“Not really.”

“Anyway, just go home and talk to Virgil. You need a vacation, and I told him that’s his new top priority.”

“As if he’d take orders from you.”

“He would if he knew his husband looked like such a hot mess-ra.” Roman flips the phone around, and Logan squints back against the brightness of the picture. Yeah, no, certainly not a pretty sight. Maybe he should start working out more. “Come to think of it, he does know you look like this, since I just sent it to him. So get a move on.”

“But I haven’t finished my—”

“And you won’t finish it if you don’t learn to take breaks between work sprints.”

“But I have a presentation on—”

“I do not care. Go home.” Roman leans forward and punches the power button on Logan’s monitor, clicking the screen into a peaceful abyss of black. “Go home. Please?”

Logan waffles between turning his screen back on (Roman only put it in sleep mode, after all) and slugging him for possibly damaging a solid couple hour’s worth of work, but a surprise third contender takes the lead for his attention. He shrugs his jacket on and rises, plucking a pen from behind his ear and dropping it in his pen cup. Roman gives a sigh of relief, and Logan wonders whether it was that obvious that he wanted to punch him.

“I hope you know how little I—”

“Yeah, yeah, everything sucks and you want to finish your work, I get it. Go home , Mr. Sanders.”

It is of this stern farewell that Logan is reminded as he tugs the front door shut behind him and steps into the apartment.

“You’re home.” Virgil sounds surprised, and Logan wonders exactly how guilty he should feel that Virgil would never expect him home in time for dinner. He also wonders whether this would be a good time to bring up how Virgril is always home, never getting an education or a real job or pursuing any passions, but Virgil never seems to be in the mood for that particular conversation. Logan is starting to suspect they’ll never realize that internal disparity.

Oh, right, he’s supposed to say something now.

“I’m home.” A very clever response, if Logan does say so himself. (He does not.)

“Why are you home so early?”

“Why do you assume I’d be late?”

“Because you’re always late.”

“I am early to every appointment and engagement I schedule.”

“Yeah, and you stay there late, which makes you late when you get to non-work things. Like when you get home late. Again.”

Logan hangs his jacket on the door and nods. “Right. Sorry.” He doesn’t really know what it is that he’s apologizing for, but he certainly isn’t about to admit as much.

“It’s fine.” Virgil’s tone makes it painfully clear that it is not, in fact, ‘fine,’ and Logan has no idea what to do about it. “Roman says you need a vacation.”

“Yes. Well, er, long day, y’know?”

“Right.”

“So I’ll just head off to bed early, then.”

“Sure. Set out some extra clothes, I guess. Maybe we can drive up north to see the leaves changing this weekend if you get out early enough. You probably won’t, but it’s worth a shot.”

Logan bites his tongue and heads into the bedroom. Why did Virgil get so mad about something so inconsequential as unpenalized punctuality? It’s not as if Logan getting home early (well, more like ‘just past on time’) should be seen as a bad thing—Virgil should’ve been happy at the surprise of being able to spend more time together. Maybe Logan should’ve just stayed at work.

#labhwrites #mine #i'll bring you the moon #ibytm

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islareeveswriting · 6 years ago

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INSTAS

The deep end was a scary place to be.

Molly found she didn’t mind it too much normally, when it came to things like uni work. In fact she found she quite liked it when it came to uni work. She thrived off having lots to do, a little stress seemed to make her work harder and better, and maybe it drained her a bit, made her feel a little more tired, and a little more glad when it was all over, it also meant the pay off felt far better. Molly was well rehearsed at keeping herself afloat at the deep end.

However, stood on the sidelines of the rugby pitch between Amanda and Katie, with Zak on her hip, Molly realised how she’d never truly been out of her depth enough to appreciate the deep end for what it was. Thrown in didn’t cut it. She hadn’t even seen Harry before the game started, she just turned up at the rugby club, as instructed, at the time Harry had told her, and hoped she saw Amanda, or Amanda saw her before anyone began to notice she was a little out of her comfort zone. Luckily Amanda had spotted her from the other side of the club house and beckoned her over before anyone else in the room seemed to have even realised Molly had arrived.

After discussing Molly’s sketches and ideas for what turned out to be nearly an hour, Molly had asked Harry to stay, he’d happily agreed, a bright smile creeping onto his face quietly, attempting subtlety but not quite managing to. Strangely Molly felt more nervous about spending the night with Harry in that bed than she had at her parents house. It was a good nervous though, an excited nervous, the kind she quite liked and made her feel zingy. She’d been like a giggly teenager when she’d crawled in beside Harry who was wearing only a pair of jersey shorts and his boxers under her sheets, her face clean and hair brushed, unable to to bite the coy smile back as Harry wrapped an arm over her middle, pulling her closer until there was barely any space between them at all, just enough so they could look at each other as they whispered quietly through the darkness.

It was as they laid there, fighting tiredness and their bodies desire to sleep, too caught up in their quiet conversation and the way their eyes glittered in the dark of the room, that Harry asked if he wanted to attend the annual Charity gala with him at the rugby club. Molly’s heart sped up at first. That sounded important, and not at all like taking it slow, but he’d asked, and she calmed as he went onto explain it a little more. It was quite a casual affair, Harry would have to wear a jacket of some kind as was tradition after a game, but it never lasted long, there’d be a raffle, some food, stupid games, just a general good time. But more than that, Harry wanted her there with him and that made Molly feel some sort of way that was only another signal that things weren’t going as slowly as had been insinuated in the car a few days prior.

Just over a week later, and Molly was stood on the side of a rugby pitch for the first time in her life, with two of Harry’s good friends, following suit and cheering as they did, slowly getting her head around what was going on and the basic rules. Even Zak seemed to have more of an idea what was going as he squealed for ‘daddy’ everytime Joe got the ball and pushed through the other teams players being dragged to the floor. Harry grabbed it out after every tackle and passed it out to another player, most of whom Molly didn’t know. Shane was on their side of the pitch, running up and down the side, moving into the centre, but mostly staying on the edge of the pitch, whereas Niall only stayed in the middle and kicked the ball over the post after every try. Though there’d only been two of those, none scored by anyone Molly knew, but she cheered with the others, and Zak who clapped along happily.

Molly was still trying to work out how the scrum worked when the whistle cried loudly over all other sounds, even that of her whirring mind. She twisted her head to the noise, a gang of men from both teams engaged in what looked like quite an angry altercation. Harry was in the centre, squared up to a man much larger than him in every possible way, their foreheads practically touching as if they were a pair of fighting bulls. Molly wasn’t entirely sure why she was so surprised, but she did gasp a little as Shane pulled Harry roughly away and marched him away as the other team chuckled to themselves. Molly could tell Shane was having stern words with Harry, but she suspected it was as more than just as team captain.

“Typical Harry,” Katie chuckled from beside Molly, shaking her head a little as she did so. “He’s gonna end up in trouble before long,” She continued. Molly listened but didn’t say anything, didn’t even ask the questions on the tip of her tongue, simply because she felt like she probably knew the answer. It wasn’t exactly a secret Harry had a tendency to let anger get the better of him if the situation was right, and his buttons were pushed enough. Molly imagined that on the rugby pitch, with testosterone coursing through him, hoping to win, that the buttons were a little easier to find.

“Ah, he’s no worse than any of the others really,” Amanda shrugged off, eyes glued to the pitch. Molly glanced to Amanda out of the side of her eye, and she felt Katie twist her head, but Amanda never turned to look at either of them, firm in her statement, and not about to back down under the cold glare Molly could feel from the other side of her. Before anymore could be said on the matter, Amanda was screaming again, cheering Harry’s name loudly. Molly flicked her eyes to the pitch, to see Harry flying down the side line, darting around a couple of the opposing team and diving over the try line, slamming the ball to the floor before hopping to his feet and jumping to the air just as Niall crashed into him to celebrate.

“Yay Uncle Harry,” Zak cried and Molly chuckled, cheering with him as she bounced Zak on her hip.

The rest of the game was largely undramatic. No more fights, but a couple more points for both sides. When the final whistle sounded, after Niall had booted the ball out of play, the homeside were three points ahead. Molly smiled on as she watched them celebrate, hugging and laughing, shaking hands politely with the other team members. Harry caught Molly’s eye as he pulled out of a hug with a member of his own team that Molly didn’t know and winked before strolling over to her. It had been a wet week, and as a consequence Harry was coated in mud. It was stuck in his hair, slathered down one side of his face and embedded into his knees.

“You need a shower,” Molly chuckled once Harry was close enough to hear. The offence ran over his face quickly, bottom lip pouting and eyebrows dipping.

“Your man has just won, he scored a try, and you’re telling me I need a shower?” Harry pouted, “You’re meant to be going weak at the knees.” Molly laughed and shook her head as Harry leant over the rope that kept the spectators from the pitch to give her a kiss.

“Ewww,” Zak wailed, pushing away from Molly’s chest, attempting to get as far from the display of affection as possible.

“Oh Zakky, what’s up, you jealous?” Harry asked, pouting his lips dramatically and leering closer to the toddler who only backed further away as he did so. “So what did you think?” Harry asked, turning attention to Molly again, Zak refusing to entertain Harry’s jokes.

“Was good, enjoyed it,” Molly smiled nodding.

“You’d come again?” Harry asked hopefully, eyes widening and brightening a little.

“Yeah, if you wanted me to,” Molly told him, nodding still.

“I’d like you to want to,” Harry told her quietly, leaning closer still, as close as he could without falling over the rope completely.

“Well, beggars can’t be choosers Styles,” Molly jested playfully, a little smirk pulling at one corner of her mouth. Again Harry’s bottom lip pouted a little and the space between his eyebrows creased. “So you are gonna shower?”

“Definitely,” Harry laughed, “Got a suit to put on,” Harry reminded her. It wasn’t a full suit, but Molly had helped him choose a jacket out of his vast collection of suits to wear with his black jeans after the game. Molly had been a little surprised at just how extensive, and well curated his suit collection was, but one in particular stood out. It was a mixture of earth tones arranged in an eye catching geometric pattern that send Molly’s mind into a spin. It had to be that one. “Go get yourself a drink, I won’t be long,” Harry promised.

“Do you want anything?” Molly offered beginning to back away from the rope.

“It’s ok, there’ll be beer in the changing room, I’ll get one with you once I’m dressed,” Harry told her, and Molly nodded before turning to find Amanda and Katie, strolling towards the clubhouse with the pram that Zak had gotten out of within five minutes of the game starting and not looked at again.

Once inside, and back with Katie and Amanda, Molly put Zak down and offered the other two girls a drink. They both accepted, Amanda asking for a bottled beer and Katie for a glass of wine. Molly knew which she’d choose, deciding the first time socialising with all Harry’s rugby friends was not an evening to drink wine. The bar was heaving but Molly found a little space to squeeze into, keeping herself to herself nad waiting for one of the three bar staff to get to her. She knew what it was like to work a bar that busy, she wasn’t about to get impatient.

“You being served?” Molly looked to the voice, a rotund elderly man looking at her and pointing.

“No, erm,” Molly hesitated, checking the stock of beer in the fridge behind the man, “Two coronas and a large glass of Pinot please?” Molly asked, falling back to the floor from her tiptoes.

“Not seen you around here before, new girlfriend is it?” The man asked as he grabbed the two bottles and popped the tops from them. There was a crease between his eyebrows and it was very clear to Molly that he was used to knowing ever person that came in and out of the doors of that place.

“Erm, well,” Molly hesitated because girlfriend wasn’t exactly the right word, in fact it was far from the right word. “I’m here with Harry -Styles,” Molly added quickly, just in case though the slight smirk told Molly she needn’t have worried.

“Ah, young Harold, I see,” The man smiled, nodding as he unwound the top from a bottle of wine. “About time he found himself a girlfriend.”

“Oh, no, we’re not, I’m not..” Molly flustered, it was hard to explain and she could feel her cheeks getting pink.

“Not what? He’s brought you here, so you must be something,” The man told her, and Molly swallowed on nothing, not entirely sure what she was meant to say, mainly because she didn’t really know what her and Harry were.

It hadn’t bothered her until then, hadn’t concerned her even an iota until she was trying to find the words to explain their situation. They’d moved on from just friends but hadn’t settled on something else yet. That suited her, them, perfectly, they knew the feelings it didn’t need a name. But it was hard to explain it to anyone else, particularly a nearly elderly man Molly didn’t know. “Seeing each other is it?” He asked, and Molly nodded, supposing that was it. “Well he must like ya, no lad would bring a girl in here unless he was serious,” The man, whose name Molly nearly asked for, but didn’t, informed her, and there wasn’t a hint of a joke in his voice. Molly just smiled, because she couldn’t help the little bit inside her that quite liked the idea of that. “Bill by the way,” The man told Molly before asking for her money, Molly smiled grateful he seemed to have read her mind.

Molly handed money over to Bill and took the drinks over the table that Katie and Amanda had occupied. She handed them out and took the seat next to Katie, it wasn’t purposeful, but once she was in it, Molly hoped it might make Katie warm a little more to her. It wasn’t quite as icy as it had been in the cafe, perhaps Katie was happier now things were becoming a little more serious, but still there was the odd look that set Molly on edge and made her feel a little uncomfortable.

“So things are going well with Harry?” Amanda asked, her lips popping around the edge of the bottle when she took a large sip.

“Yeah,” Molly said with a nod and a smile. “Taking it slow, seeing how things go, but so far, so good,” Molly explained, lifting her own bottle to her lips and taking a sip.

“That’s a good idea, don’t want to rush into things, make sure you really know each other first,” Katie smiled, and Molly appreciated what sounded like a supportive sentiment.

“Yeah, exactly,” Molly nodded, and Katie offered a small smile, something a little sympathetic about it before she took a mouthful of her wine. The conversation moved on from there naturally, the three of them chatting just generally about everything and anything until men started filtering out into the bar area from the changing rooms, lugging kit bags and dressed in casual suits, mostly smart blazer jackets and trousers of some kind. Shane appeared first, a pair of dark trousers on and a blazer that blended well with them.

“Evening ladies,” Shane grinned, that bright, Hollywood smile that would have made Molly weak at the knees if she wasn’t waiting for one she thought was better. He bent and kissed them all on the cheek sweetly. “That jacket of Harry’s is wild,” Shane chuckled looking at Molly as he attempted to clasp his watch together.

“It’s good isn’t it?” Molly grinned, to which Shane nodded, still concentrating on his watch. “Do you want a hand?” Molly offered, sitting up a little and reaching her hands to his wrist.

“Oh thanks Mol,” Shane breathed lowering his wrist so she could get her hands to him. “Hand got trodden on and fingers aren’t quite working yet,” he chuckled lowly as Molly clipped the clasp together and adjusted his jacket sleeve a little so it was sitting how it was designed to. “Getting us all dressed is it?”

“Well if you’re gonna wear a jacket, may as well wear it properly,” Molly winked earning a laugh from those in ear shot. Shane offered a drink which they all declined thanks to their freshly bought round, and disappeared over to the bar. “I was terrified of him when I first met him,” Molly admitted quietly, causing Amanda to laugh.

“Everyone is,” Katie told her with a grin. “He’s a puppy dog though when you get to know him,” She went on, glancing over her shoulder at Shane. “Wildly protective of Harry though,” Katie frowned, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Amanda straighten.

“Why?” Molly asked, eyes narrowing and flicking between the two women. No one said anything for a good ten seconds, and Molly didn’t miss the look between Amanda and Katie, jaws tense and Amanda’s nostrils flinching a little.

“Guess he just feels like his big brother? After the stuff with his dad and things,” Amanda explained, and Molly could get that. It explained the look as well, perhaps they weren’t sure how much Molly knew, but the way she accepted the explanation obviously told them that she knew just enough for it to make sense.

Slowly the rest of the players trickled out of the changing rooms, Harry was one of the last. Molly caught him out of the corner of her eye before he saw her, and took the opportunity to check him out. Her eyes lifted up his body, from the black leather boots he had on, over the skinny jeans, that were fairly new and blacker than the ones he normally wore. There was a leather belt holding them up that looked worn and well used, undone and tightened again enough to leave permanent creases in the leather. The black shirt he’d opted for was tucked into the jeans, buttoned up to his throat, the collar perfectly ironed and firm around his neck.

But the jacket stole the show. Molly was sure about it when she saw it in his wardrobe, but on his body it was even better. It was like it was made for him. It wrapped his arms snugly, but not too tight that it looked uncomfortable, it cleared his shoulders nicely and only emphasised just how broad he was. The jacket was unbuttoned and Molly watched as he reached into the pocket of it, pulling out his rings and beginning to slide them onto his fingers as he walked. Molly watched for a second before finding his face, only to discover she’d been well and truly caught checking him out. Harry just offered a smirk and a wink before beginning to greet the group, leaving Molly blushing and sipping her beer to try and cool her cheeks.

“Afternoon all.” Harry’s voice was rougher than normal as he threw his bag to the floor and kicked it under the table beside Molly before bending at the hip to capture her lips in a quick kiss. If anyone really took any notice of it they didn’t show it, but it only intensified the blush that was lingering under Molly’s cheeks. “Want another drink love?” Harry asked, delving into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve his wallet.

“Sure, I’ll give you a hand,” Molly told him, getting to her feet and finishing the last of her beer quickly.

“Easy love, we don’t want a repeat of your birthday,” Harry jested with a wink.

“No, you just don’t want me kissing Niall again, might realise what I’m missing,” Molly rose quickly, leaving Harry a little gobsmacked as the rest of the table chuckled lowly. “Drinks then,” Harry just nodded quietly, offering the others a drink before leading the way to the bar.

It was quieter than when Molly had ventured up there earlier, only a few people stood around it, and less than that actually waiting to be served. Harry walked straight up and leaned against the old wooden top, stained and marked from years of use. He hardly even acknowledged that Molly moved in to stand next to him, flicking his eyes to her, but never looking properly. Molly could feel it, the corner of a wedge between them and she rolled her eyes at it, smirking to herself.

“Really?” She asked, unable to not be amused. “You really ignoring me now?”

“Well why did you have to say that?” Harry returned quickly and a little viciously. His eyes were dark and his voice was a low rumble, disguised from any eavesdroppers by the music that was playing. Molly just shook her head and turned to catch the attention of Bill, or one of the other two bar staff, though all of them were serving other people. “Was out of order,” Harry added.

“But it’s ok for you to try and make me look a dick?” Molly retaliated quickly twisting her neck back to Harry. She wondered if it was obvious they were having a disagreement, she could bet it was. Harry’s body was stiff, his jaw bitten tight and her eyes kept narrowing in his direction.

“That’s different,” Harry mumbled.

“Really? How?”

“Because I’m not threatening to kiss someone else,” Harry pointed out. There wasn’t a doubt that if the room hadn’t been packed he’d have raised his voice, but instead he spoke through a clenched jaw, his teeth bitten together, his tongue hitting the back of them as pushed his words out of his throat.

“If you honestly think I’d do that you don’t know me very well,” Molly spurred, turning away from Harry again, admittedly a little hurt.

“Well, you did it to Ryan,” Harry reminded her, as if she needed reminding. No matter what Ryan had done, before or after they’d broken up, it didn’t take away from the fact she’d kissed someone else when they were together. No matter what happened from there, she doubted she’d be able to forgive herself. It was something she swore she’d never do, and no matter how many times Lauren told it was just a kiss, it was nothing, and no matter how much she knew how little it meant, it didn’t feel any better.

“Don’t use that against me Harry,” Molly murmured, sucking her cheeks in.

“Well don’t use it against me then,” Harry returned.

“Against you? Exactly how was I using it against you, you were the one who-”

“You have absolutely no idea how soul destroying it was to see you kissing my best mate do you?” Harry cut in quickly. Molly froze and closed her hanging jaw slowly pinching her lips together, if she’d been expecting him to say anything, it hadn’t been that. Harry sucked his teeth and shook his head. “Thought so.” Molly wasn’t sure what to say, whether an apology was more fitting, or just silent contemplation of what he’d said. It sunk in quickly, and it ached as it did it. Molly had her lips pinched together and she stared at the bar, picking at a blob of candle wax that had obviously dripped onto the wood at some point. “Look,” Harry started with a breath, “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but I hate when you joke about that because it really got to me when it happened, and does a bit now too.”

“Why?” Molly asked quietly.

“Cause I really fucking liked you and you were kissing my best mate, why’d you think?” Harry told her honestly, Molly just shrugged, swallowing on nothing. It felt bad enough she’d done it anyway, now it felt worse. “I hate that you kissed him before you even thought about kissing me.”

“That’s not true,” Molly pointed out quickly, and it took Harry back. “I’d thought about kissing you, long before I kissed Niall.” Molly explained before Harry could ask what she was talking about. There was a smug smirk that crawled onto Harry’s face seemingly pleased with himself. “Don’t look so smug,” Molly tutted shaking her head.

“Well that makes it a little bit better,” Harry pondered, letting his tongue hang from one of his canine teeth.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look Harry, even on you,” Molly told him, finally catching the eye of the only woman working behind the bar.

“Everything’s a good look on me love,” Harry jested, turning as the woman got closer. “Alright Jackie, can I get…” Harry began to list of their order Molly looking at him as he did so, pondering what had just happened. As Jackie set about getting their order together, Harry looked back down at Molly. “What?” He asked with a grin.

“Can’t keep up with you, we’ve gone from arguing about a comment, to you being all smug and happy with yourself in two minutes, I don’t know if I’m coming or going,” Molly told him, and Harry chuckled though she wasn’t sure she was amused.

“Well, would you rather that, or let it ruin the night and be miserable?” Harry asked, and Molly supposed that was fair enough. “Look, I get jealous, I like you, so I get jealous, I’m a narcissist, I’m an arse hole, I know, and I’m sorry but I really like you Lol, really fucking like you, and I’m trying so hard not to be a narcissitc arse hole, cause I really don’t want to fuck this up,” Harry explained, and Molly huffed a laugh. “I’m failing right now, I know.”

“Don’t change, you’re not fucking it up,” Molly told him with a creeping smile. It was so wildly different to anything Molly had ever known and thrill of it was far better than any security or safety she’d gotten used to in the past. There was no doubt Harry wasn’t going to her hurt her in anyway, but he kept her guessing with everything else, and Molly found herself falling for it. “Kiss me?” She asked sweetly.

“As if you have to ask,” Harry chuckled, leaning forward and tipping Molly’s chin with his finger and thumb and catching her poised lips with his. It was a little intimate for the setting but neither seemed to care, not immediately anyway.

“Come on Styles, leave it til you get her home,” Jackie piped up, forcing them away from one another with a blush on Molly’s part and a laugh on Harry’s. “Seventeen eighty then ta,” Jackie told Harry, who started working on getting money out of his wallet as Molly began to carry drinks over to the table.

Once both back at the table, Harry and Molly took the seats next to one another, both with quietly pleased smiles on their faces as they took sips from their drinks and Harry reached under the table to put his hand on her thigh. No one even batted an eye lid as they shuffled closer to one another, too caught up in the conversation that was circling the table. Harry’s fingers were drawing patterns near Molly’s knee delicately enough that it tickled her skin through her jeans. Before Harry’s hand on her leg or around her own hand had been simply a source of comfort, an acknowledgement they were in it together. It still held that too, it still felt comforting and reassuring, but it was more than that. They were still in it together, but also it was a declaration that they were together, and Harry wasn’t afraid to touch her, or kiss her, or show any kind of affection in front of anyone. His hand was hidden by the table, but Molly had no doubt, if the table wasn’t there, his hand would still be resting over her leg, and tracing over her jeans to send tingles through her.

It felt like the mood had changed, at least to Molly. Things felt different to how they had initially. Neither of them were quite as tentative or nervous about stepping forward for what they wanted from the other. There were moments that felt a lot more primal and intuitive than the practiced steps they’d been taking in the moments after their first kiss. The way Harry pulled Molly’s body tighter to his, trying to get as much of his skin against her as possible, ensuring she could feel every part of him. The way she asked for a kiss, and didn’t shy from letting her breath tickle over his puckered lips as she stepped back down, hoping to leave him wanting more.

There was a conversation Molly was sure they had to have, though simultaneously she wasn’t entirely sure they did have to have it. With Ryan, they’d discussed it, it was her first time and she wanted it to be clear that she wasn’t rushing. It was very obvious Molly and Harry weren’t going to be each other’s firsts when they got to that point, and that was new to Molly. It made her nervous, not being sure whether to bring it up, to ask, or to just let it happen when they both wanted it to. Of course she trusted Harry completely, that wasn’t even something she was questioning, she knew he wouldn’t judge her or laugh at her, but it didn’t take away from how nervous bringing it up made her feel.

A gentle squeeze of her thigh bought Molly out of her thoughts, and she looked to Harry offering him a smile that matched the one he was giving her. Of course he could see she was getting into her head about something, and Molly could tell by the way his eyes flicked a little narrower for a second that he was trying to work out why. Molly tried to reassure him, widening her smile and a small shake of her head. Harry just bit his cheek though, and didn’t return his attention to the group until Molly had.

“Where are the toilets?” Molly asked, reaching forward and putting her bottle on the table.

“I’ll show you, need to go anyway,” Katie smiled, getting to her feet. Molly felt her tummy tighten, she couldn’t help it, Katie was intimidating and being alone with her made her a little nervous, but Molly just nodded and got to her feet, looking back to Harry as she followed Katie towards a door at the back of the room. He just chuckled quietly, noticing the tension Molly was holding.

The two women didn’t talk as they walked to the toilet, or once they’d locked themselves in separate cubicles. Molly wondered what the protocol was. Should she wait for Katie if she was done first, would Katie wait for her? Normally Molly would wait behind for her friends, but they were a gaggle of university girls often in club toilets together, not barely acquaintances in an antiquated rugby club.

Molly was done first, and she washed her hands slowly, hoping she wouldn’t have to make the decision and Katie would appear from her cubicle as she held her hands under the dryer. Luckily it worked, and Katie smiled as she caught Molly’s eye. Now Molly knew it was protocol to wait, she couldn’t just walk out the door without Katie now Katie was at the sink washing her hands. Molly stood patiently by the door, folding her lips together trying to think of something to say.

“-So-”

“-Sorry,” Katie spoke over Molly, though not intentionally. They chuckled quietly, and Molly motioned for Katie to carry on. “Sorry if I came across like a bitch,” Katie continued, wiping her semi-dry hands on her blue jeans.

“No, don’t be silly,” Molly brushed it off, obviously not about to tell Katie how uncomfortable she’d made Molly feel at brunch a couple of weeks previous.

“You don’t have to be nice, I know I come across cold, I’m not stupid,” Katie laughed, and Molly just shrugged not entirely sure what to say. “Was a bit of a shock Harry bought someone along to be honest,” Katie went on, and it was suddenly clear they weren’t about to just walk straight back out of the toilets, and perhaps Katie had been wanting to get Molly alone for a little longer than Molly had realised. “We never really even hear about girls he’s with, or at least Amanda and I don’t, he tells the lads about his conquests, but it’s normally just sex,” Katie shrugged as Molly tried not to feel uncomfortable. She shifted her weight and cleared her throat. “Of course, I’m not saying that’s all he’s with you for, obviously it’s not,” Molly nodded, though she couldn’t help the feeling that even if that wasn’t what Katie was saying, that she was putting the idea in Molly’s head by saying the words.

“No, of course not,” Molly smiled, before sucking her cheeks in and tilting her head. “Just, well, I’m not sure what you are trying to say,” Molly chuckled sarcastically. There was no doubt Katie could feel the tension she’d built up, but it was impossible to tell if she was enjoying it.

“You seem like a really lovely girl, everyone really likes you, just Harry has a tendency to lead people on, and you should know that,” Katie told Molly, stepping forward. Molly folded her arms across her chest and stood a little taller. It was very clear what Katie was getting at and she didn’t like it. The majority of her couldn’t believe it, not after how well Harry had, for the most part, treated her. But there was the tiniest bit of her that was starting to panic that her instinct that it was all too good to be true, might have been right. “If you want my opinion-”

“I don’t, I have my own, thanks,” Molly bit in, and turned for the door and moved to pull it, though Katie stepped in and held it closed.

“Well, I hope you know exactly what it is you’re getting into then,” Katie hissed before letting the door go so Molly could wrench it open. Molly could feel her hands trembling and she scraped them through her hair before she opened the second door back to the bar area, holding it open for Katie. There was no way she was willing to let it get under her skin, but at the very least, she didn’t want Harry to see it. So she smiled and walked beside Katie back to the table.

“Actually I’m going to be modelling for Lolly’s new project,” Molly heard Harry announce as they got closer to the table and Katie re-took her seat. Molly just smiled as Harry looked to her, but she began rummaging around in the pockets of her coat, not willing to take her seat again just yet.

“Ooo, get you,” Amanda cooed, bouncing Zak on her knee, suddenly tired and back from wherever he’d been. “What’s the project?” Amanda asked, turning her attention to Molly. Molly felt the spotlight, and cleared her throat, glancing at Amanda but not holding her eyes for any length of time, getting straight back to what she was looking for.

“It’s a tailoring project,” Molly mumbled, moving to the other pocket.

“Tell them about the ideas,” Harry gushed, nuding her arm a little with his elbow as he did so. The grin was welded into his tone of voice, Molly could hear it loud and clear.

“No Harry,” Molly sighed, giving up with her pockets and grabbing her bag from under her chair to look through it. The tote was large for where she found herself, but she’d come from the library where she’d been looking for references for an essay she was nearly finished with, and it was full with all kinds of things, making the search for the pack of cigarettes, she knew she’d picked up, harder than it should have been. They were left on the side from a housemate night out two nights previous. Jimmy and her had gone halves and there were three left in the pack of ten, all of them hers. At first she told herself she didn’t need them, and she didn’t. But she knew she’d be drinking, and the way Katie’s words had left her reeling, she was glad she’d grabbed them in a last minute panic and thrown them into her bag. Though she wished she had indeed put them in her pocket the way she’d intended as she swore she felt every pair of eyes on her.

“What? Why?” Harry quizzed quickly.

“They don’t want to hear about all that, it’s boring,” Molly hissed, flicking her eyes to Harry from her bag for a second.

“I’d like to hear,” Katie piped up from where she was sat. Molly turned her glare to Katie, Rich’s arm wrapped around the back of her chair. Molly wondered if he knew what his fiance had planned on telling Molly, or even if she’d planned it all. She wondered if Katie could see how she’d made Molly feel and was trying to make up for it, or if she was just twisting the knife. Molly just shook her head. “What I would? It’s interesting,”

“It’s not, trust me,” Molly mumbled quietly.

“Who says?” Shane quizzed, from the other side of her. Molly swallowed on nothing and glanced up to Shane who’s forehead was a little creased. She didn’t say anything, but took a quick glance to Harry out the side of her eye. She saw it click and dropped her head.

“Her fucking ex,” Harry spat cruelly.

“Harry!” Molly scalded snapping her head to him.

“What it’s true? Somehow managed to convince you your ideas aren’t worth hearing about, must be fucking mad,” Harry bit, sitting up a little straighter and looking down at the floor as he did so.

“So tailoring like suits and stuff?” Katie asked clearly trying to diffuse the tension. It confused Molly and she could work Katie out even less than before. Before she’d just been cold, now she felt cruel and callous.

“Yeah, and she’s fucking amazing at it,” Harry chimed in aggressively.

“I’m talking to Molly,” Katie pointed out, pursing her lips at Harry until he sunk back before turning back to Molly. “Did it have to be menswear?” Katie asked, her voice sickly sweet again as she did so.

“No, but I prefer it personally,” Molly told her plainly, pulling her sketchbook out of her bag to give her more space to see, but holding it close to her just in case Harry got any ideas.

“Well, hopefully we get to see them, and Harry doing his David Gandy bit,” Katie smiled.

“Yeah,” Molly breathed a false laugh, finally reaching in and finding the pack of cigarettes. “I’m going for a cigarette,” Molly announced pulling a single one from the pack and the lighter that was also tucked inside before chucking her sketch book back in. “If anyone…?” She looked around the table but every single one of them shook their heads in response. “Young and stupid I guess,” Molly sighed.

“You calling us old?” Shane asked with a playful smirk.

“Exactly, but wise, so swings and roundabouts,” Molly smirked back, though it fell to nothing as she left the table and headed for the door with her coat and cigarette.

It was bitterly cold outside, and Molly quickly pulled her coat on before resting the cigarette between her lips. She flicked the lighter three times before a flame appeared from out of it. The flame was hypnotising, and she stared at it for a few moments before letting it go again and dropping her hands to her side with a sigh, staring up to the night sky and leaning heavier against the cold wall. For a little while she let the cigarette just hang lazily from her lips, but eventually she took it out and tucked it between her fingers. She didn’t want to smoke it, but if the feeling inside her that was making her eyes prickle and her mind reel with things she wanted to say continued much longer, that might change.

“You ok?” Harry spoke up, taking long but slow strides towards her, finding the pockets of his jeans and sliding his hands inside them. Molly nodded slightly, and offered a faint smile that was barely visible through the dark. “You’re not smoking,” Harry pointed out, nodding towards the unlit cigarette in her hand as he stopped in front of her, hands still in his pockets.

“Don’t actually want it,” Molly laughed, tucking her hand into her own pocket and dropping the cigarette before letting her hand hang by her side once again. It was quiet for a little while, muffled sounds from inside the only noise. Molly didn’t know what to say, and she was scared that if she worked it out she wouldn’t be able to stop and she’d end up talking herself out of something that she’d spent months talking herself into.

“What’s up?” Harry asked, giving into the silence that was anything but comfortable.

“I’m fine,” Molly breathed with another little smile. One that Harry could see straight through, though she hadn’t worked that out yet, no one else seemed to and everyone else in her life had known her a lot longer than Harry. He sighed though, heavily and loudly, bordering between quiet growl and loud sigh, making it very transparent that he could see through her.

“This has got to stop Lol,” Harry started. Molly’s eyes went wide with the sudden change in tone, looking up to him from where she’d sunk against the wall. “Whatever it is that makes you think your thoughts and feelings are worthless,” Harry continued and Molly dropped her gaze quickly beginning to nibble on her bottom lip. “Was it him?” Harry asked quietly, but Molly didn’t answer just rolled her lips together between her teeth harshly so she felt the flesh pop over them and it left a metallic taste on her tongue as she swiped it over the inside of her mouth. “I’m not gonna belittle you or your ideas or you feelings, it’s valid Lol, you’re valid, and this bullshit stops now, if you’re not fine I wanna know, if I piss you off I wanna know, pretending everything's ‘fine’ all the time isn’t gonna work.” It was right there, on the tip of her tongue, and she couldn’t bite it back and swallow it anymore, so she didn’t.

“He always used to say it was boring, what I did at uni was pointless and unimportant and I was boring when I talked about it, materialistic,” Molly told Harry, staring at the dirty pavement as she did so. It wasn’t something she told anyone, but the conversations she’d had with Ryan stuck in her mind and poisoned her enjoyment of talking about it.

“That’s absolute bullshit,” Harry bit quickly, not even stopping to really think about what Molly had said, just knowing it angered him and reacting as such.

“Maybe, but someone tells you something enough times I guess you start to believe it,” Molly shrugged and looked up at Harry, supposing there was no point trying to hide the tears in her eyes when there was a wobble in her voice as she spoke.

“Well stop, because it’s crap, it’s not boring, it’s not pointless and it’s not unimportant, and you’re certainly none of those things,” Harry implored, reaching forward and taking her face gently in his hands, ensuring she looked in his eyes as he told her the truth. “Lolly, I’m proud of you, I’m proud of what you do and can do, I wish you’d scream about it from the rooftops, you shouldn’t feel embarrassed about something you love.” His voice was quieter then, but the sincerity in his eyes didn’t follow suit.

“You’re proud of me?” Molly asked, her mind still hinged on those words alone.

“Of course,” Harry smiled with a slight chuckle as if the question was a joke. His hands dropped from her face then and he stood up a little straighter, Molly’s eyes following his.

“No one’s ever told me that,” Molly admitted almost silently.

“What?” Harry asked pointendly. Molly didn’t say anything though, just shrugged the way she so often did when she didn’t know what to say next. “No one?” Harry asked to be sure.

“No, not really, parents congratulate me and stuff, but they’ve never actually said they’re proud, and Ryan certainly never did,” Molly told him, loathing talking about him again.

“I think your parents probably are proud, they just don’t think they need to tell you,” Harry suggested, and Molly supposed the same thing. She never doubted they weren’t proud of her as such, they were always happy to hear talking about how well things at uni were going, and what she was up to, how much she enjoyed what she did. Molly guessed there were other ways to say you were proud of someone without actually saying the words.

“Probably.”

“But I will tell you every day if that’s what it takes to make you forget all that crap that arse hole ever told you that makes you feel like anything less than what you are,” Harry promised. Molly smiled happily as her lip turned downwards a little, her tears turning from something bitter to something far, far sweeter as she stared up at Harry and moved into his open arms. Harry pressed a gentle kiss into her hair as she rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him. “And I’ll carry on even after that,” He told her, his words muffled by her hair. “Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone I hardly know as much as I hate him,” Harry hissed.

“But you hate people you do know?” Molly asked looking up at him uncomfortably from where she was resting against him.

“One or two, doesn’t everyone?” Harry muttered, releasing Moly from his embrace.

“I don’t think I hate anyone really, no,” Molly mused, shaking her head as she did.

“Lucky you,” Harry laughed. Molly’s mind was ticking, from one thing right onto the next, he had said he wanted her to tell her when something wasn’t fine, but she doubted he meant so much so quickly.

“That why you were squaring up that guy on the pitch?” Molly asked quickly.

“Huh?” Harry puzzled, his eyebrows lowering unevenly.

“During the game, if Shane hadn’t pulled you away, you’d have hit that guy from the other team,” Molly told him, but Harry just shook his head as if he wasn’t engaged in conversation with someone who seemed to know him better than he knew himself, and who had seen how he could get with her own eyes.. “You would Harry, you know that and so do I, I’ve seen it enough times now,” She reminded him, and she saw it twist on his face how much he hated that.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry grumbled, moving to turn away.

“Don’t I?” Molly asked, calling him back with her question.

“No,” Harry barked, but quickly pulled himself back. Molly wasn’t scared, but she could see in his eyes how riled he was getting. “It was a game of rugby, things get heated all the time on a rugby pitch,” Harry explained quietly, his tone evening a little more.

“Katie seems to think-”

“Katie what? Katie fucking what? What’s she getting involved in this time?” Harry laughed as if he knew it was coming. Molly moved back to the wall a little more, suddenly feeling stupid for buying into her words so much with the amused look that was on Harry’s face.

“She just said you were gonna get yourself in trouble,” Molly told Harry, holding her own as best she could, despite how much better practiced Harry seemed to be at this kind of thing. Molly had never been good at arguments, she was sure being the youngest sister had taught her just to back down and admit defeat before it became a row, but something with Harry made her want to fight a little harder and she couldn’t back down from it.

“A yellow fucking card, it’s not the end of the world,” Harry told her.

“Yeah as long as it’s on the pitch, but it’s not just on the pitch is it, you’re getting pissed off with me now,” Molly pointed out, and with that Harry snapped his head at her. It wasn’t there, but he told himself he could see fear in her eyes and he stepped back so quickly it was a wonder he didn’t trip over himself. His hands were back in his pockets in seconds and he was shaking his head quickly.

“I’d never touch you, don’t even dare insinuate I would,” Harry promised, and there was an emotion in his voice that was far from anger but just as passionate.

“I never said you would,” Molly told him honestly, because she believed truly that he would never touch her with malice. “I just mean you’re getting angry, and if I was a lad your fists would be curling and you’d be thinking about hitting me,” Molly explained, and Harry knew he couldn’t argue that, because it was true. If anyone else were to rile him the way she was he’d be trying to find something to lay his fists into, but as it was, he was focused solely on Molly and making sure she understood she wasn’t like anyone else when it came to him, “Are you leading me on?” Molly asked, the silence giving way for other thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what the fuck? Where did that come from?” Harry spluttered, his eyebrows knitting together and eyes widening, pure shock registering over him. It didn’t take long to click though. “Katie again?” Harry eye rolled, and stepped forward gently, as if asking permission, as if he had to. Molly didn’t do anything to rebuke him so he stepped closer, ensuring she could see the green of his eyes as he spoke and the honesty laced into it. “Listen, people, Katie, are gonna say things about me, stuff you’re not gonna want to hear, but you have just got to trust me,” Harry told her.

“Like what? What are people gonna say?” Molly asked.

“That I’m a player, that I fuck girls over, that I’m every girls worst nightmare,” Harry listed, there were other words, worse words, worse accusations, but the ones he chose were enough to give Molly the gist of the things he’d answered to in the past.

“That it?” Molly asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Yes,” Harry promised. The other words didn’t matter. They worked to the same effect, they meant the same thing, they were just more venomous and hateful. “Well, I think so,” Harry chuckled, but Molly shook her head.

“You can’t laugh it off everytime Harry, it’s not a joke,” She warned him. Sure she agreed it was good to move on from arguments and not let them fester into something far greater than they started out being, but she wasn’t about to laugh off every little thing just to save a little awkwardness at a table of friends.

“Everyone’s done stupid shit, and when I was younger yeah I was a dick I’m not gonna lie, but it has been nearly three years since I’ve even spoken to a girl like this, let alone been with someone,” Harry told her, and it wasn’t an over exaggeration, Molly could see that, so she nodded. “This is still new and fresh, so I can’t tell you where it’s going, but I want it to go somewhere, I’m not just after a fuck, I like being with you, and I want to keep doing this,” Harry told her, stepping closer still.

“What about the sex?” Molly asked quietly, and she saw Harry swallow on nothing, his tongue slipping out over his lips to wet them a little.

“What about it?” He asked lowly.

“Well, what, I, do you…” Molly lost her words, not quite sure what to say, not quite sure how to word it.

“We’ll get there when we get there, when we’re ready, if we’re ready, no rush, no pressure,” Harry assured her, and Molly nodded, visibly relaxing. No pressure sounded perfect. No rush sounded good too. They were in for the long haul, and at last Molly found her feet on the bottom, suddenly the deep end didn’t feel quite so deep, or at least not so terrifying.

Progress? No progress? I dunno what do you think?

I hope you like it, please let me know your thoughts and theories cause I LOVE THEM! If you missed the instas for the last five chapters check them out here, you don’t know what clues your missing otherwise....

Have a great weekend, lots of love x

#Dive #Harry Styles #Harry Styles au #Harry Styles fan fic #Harry fic #1dff #harry fluff #harry angst #dun dun dunnnnnn

25 notes · View notes

prxttylittle · 6 years ago

Note

“ do you wanna get out of here? ”, “ i just want/wanted to help. ”, “ stay with me tonight. ” :))))

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

{ v ;; the princess and the moon.

Prince was surprised when Luna appeared suddenly by his side, asking if he wanted to sneak off with her. A smirk formed on his lips. He appreciated that they were at a point in their relationship where they didn’t insist ‘this is the last time’ every time they sleep together. After ten times of swearing it wouldn’t happen again, at some point they realised that maybe it would. “I don’t know.” Prince shrugged despite having his mind fully made up that he did want to get out of here with her. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted anything more. He looked at his watch. “I’ve got English next class and I don’t know if I can miss it.” He bit down on his smirk when her hand grasped onto his to pull him through the school halls, leading him away despite his pretence of not being sure he wanted to leave with her. “Y’know, Shakespeare and that. Very gripping stuff.” More important than no longer being in denial about their relationship, Prince was actually fairly comfortable to be around her now without barking and snapping every two minutes. He was open with her, even let her see him joke around and be honest when he felt like it. A privilege not many were fortunate enough to participate in. Just as they turned a corner, Prince’s vision landed on Matt and Nick at the end of the hallway, messing around. Prince’s joking died down and he cursed, dragging Luna back. “I’ve got a better idea.” He mumbled, kissing her if anything just to stop her from talking and drawing attention to herself and them. He pushed open the door to the supply closet a few inches away from them, pulling her inside. It wasn’t spacious and the smell of cleaning supplies wasn’t exactly the most romantic but Prince figured it was better than getting caught gliding hand-in-hand around the school corridors together. He pressed her against the wall, one hand on her waist and the other just under her jaw, wrapped around to the back of her neck. When Luna questioned why he thought bringing her in here was better, he realised she hadn’t seen the pair moments ago. He shrugged, kissing her quiet. “Dunno” he mumbled his lie out, his lips going to her neck now, not leaving any marks but being sure to just about waver over crossing the line, loving the feeling of her keening into his touch. “Maybe the smell of window-cleaner turns me on.” He pulled away to gaze at her for a moment. A smile overtook his lips when she rolled her eyes at his joke. Even in the dim lighting of the small room she managed to look so good, he couldn’t believe it. “Maybe its nearer than getting in my car and driving all the way home and I want to be with you right now.” He added, going back in to kiss her so he could avoid eye contact, his hands going to the buttons of her shirt now. “Mostly the window-cleaner thing though.”

{ v ;; no reason.

Jason chuckled lightly when he felt two hands coming around his body from behind. He wrapped his hands around hers and leaned back into her touch. “Hey sweetheart.” He mumbled before finally turning around to face her. He kissed her to say hello, after not having seen her for a bit as he socialised and she probably hid away from everyone here. He chuckled again when all she did was greet him with a pout. “You bored already?” He teased but they’d been here for hours at this point and even he was beginning to grow tired of listening to the people he worked with talk about nothing of significance and he could only comment on the colouring of the paintings in the lobby so many times before it became monotonous. He was grateful she’d even come with him let alone stay this long without complaining about it once. He watched her expression, knowing she probably wouldn’t want to tell him she was bored but definitely eager to leave. It also probably didn’t help that she couldn’t even have a drink to drown out the people around them, like he’d been doing. “Wanna get out of here?” She offered and the way her lip slid between her teeth, he couldn’t even remember the word no. Jason grinned and kissed her again after nodding that he was completely up for leaving. He grabbed their jackets and bid farewell to the people he knew and the new people he’d been introduced to during the evening before guiding his girlfriend out of the venue. “Imagine what it’s going to be like when he comes out, what a great excuse he’ll be– like sorry I can’t come out tonight I’ve got a kid.” Jason chuckled, hand brushing over Iola’s minuscule bump. He paused when he realised that he had said he despite not knowing the gender of the baby. “Or she.” He added as if that was going to make any difference. Jason didn’t want to make it seem that he was hoping for a boy out of fear it came out a girl and he felt guilty for saying ‘he’ every time he talked about the baby. Though, randomly choosing a gender was better than saying ‘it’ he figured. He returned to the topic of conversation. “That’s like--- eighteen years worth of excuses to get out of hanging out with people.” Jason truly was a big kid so it was a wonder how he was going to suddenly turn into a grown up when Iola’s due date rolled around. “Isn't that awesome?” He beamed at her as they shuffled into her car.

{ v ;; july 17th.

When Zayn felt a pair of hands brush over his shoulders, he had no doubts about who it could be. He turned around, his gaze falling on his wife and a smile brushing his lips. He kissed her lightly and chuckled at her offer. “Get out of here? Our kids first parent-teacher meeting and you’re already eager to leave?” Though of course, he wasn’t guilt tripping her. Zayn was teasing. If there was anyone that wanted to leave more than Ari, it was him. These other parents were annoying and Zayn could tell they had some kind of pre-conceived notion due to how well-known he and Ari were. It was to be expected but part of him had hoped they could just be parents here and not the dramatic-fuelled couple from the TV show that aired ten years ago. He was suspicious of that particular group of women in the corner of the room who seemed to watch every single one of he and Ari’s move. Additionally, Zayn didn’t even like the teachers. Leilani was smart, he and Ari both knew it, so it wasn’t as if they needed any advice from the teachers. He nodded. “Yeah babe, yeah I absolutely want to get out of here, we’ve met all the teachers haven’t we?” He looked around. There were a few teachers he didn’t recall speaking to but they’d already made their minds up so he brought his jacket over his shoulder, wrapping an arm around Ari to lead her out, ignoring the stares from other parents as they marched out. Chuckling, the pair braced the cold, winter air. “Maybe you should home-school Leilani. If these people’s kids are half as annoying as they are, maybe having friends isn’t worth normal school.” He joked as they walked hand-in-hand to their car. Even now, years later, each others company was the best either could find. When they were young and living in the GYHAB house, it was almost painful to have to hang out with the randoms that came into the house when they could just hide away in their rooms together. Zayn didn’t want to have an attitude about his kids school but he wished he could do that. When they finally shut the car doors behind them, Zayn let out a groan before he let a smirk appear on his face. He leaned across the gear-shift and kissed Ari, preventing her from starting the car. “Have you ever had sex in the back of a car in the carpark of the school your kid goes to?” He challenged sarcastically.

{ v ;; katie and leo.

Katie crossed her legs, uncrossed them and recrossed them until she felt a hand on her thigh. She looked to Ava, who was demanding she stop fidgeting so much. Katie sighed and tried to relax but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Leo who was across the room, absolutely flirting with that girl. Couldn’t he at least try to be discreet? She glared at Eli who commented on how indiscreet she was being by staring over at Leo. She scoffed. “I don’t care what he does, alright? He can shag her for all I care.” She finally turned back to the group, forcing all her attention on the drink in her hand, bringing it to her lips and sipping. However, she could only sip for so long, staring into the bottom of the red cup before the drink finally drained and she had nothing to distract her any longer. There was an expectant silence between the group, everyone probably waiting for Katie to do as they all were waiting for and return her gaze to Leo and that girl. She rolled her eyes. She’d do them one better. She slammed her cup down, glaring again at Eli who looked ready to tease her for whatever she was going to do next. “Okay, fine I care. Whatever, fuck you guys.” She grabbed her handbag and marched away from the Kings, ignoring the sound of their laughter. Why did everyone around her have to be related? When did that become her reality? Though, if she wasn’t so jealous she’d have totally indulged them in their mocking. She wasn’t going to admit that now, though. Katie decided not to barge between the blonde girl and Leo, not wanting to make a show. She made her way into the kitchen, filled with guys and girls she recognised from school and of course, booze. Exactly what she’d been looking for. She hopped up on the kitchen counter right next to the glass bottles. With a perfectly-manicured hand, she picked up a bottle through random selection. Her eyes read the label and she smirked. Tequila, her favourite. Some time later, a random guy, addressing her by the pet-name ‘beautiful’, offered to refill her drink while she took singles of tequila. She shrugged, despite how she hated the nickname given to her, and accepted his offer. At least she wouldn’t have to get down. Though, she was feeling quite queasy. Maybe that sixth shot wasn’t the best idea. He soon returned with a rum and coke but just as he handed it to her, a hand took it and pushed him away. Her glossed lips pouted as her eyes landed on Leo. “Oh, so now you want to pay attention to me?” She challenged though it was difficult to be bitchy when all her words strung together. She hiccuped, realising that maybe she was drunk. Leo leaned in close and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, her eyes almost flickering shut. “You wanna get out of here?” She realised he was just getting close so she could hear him. Feeling somewhat dizzy, and very much exhausted, she nodded. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his hands on her waist as he lifted her down from sitting on the counter top. She didn’t even notice but tomorrow she would be grateful that Leo grabbed her bag from the counter. Out in the fresh air, Katie was feeling much better. Still plastered, but less sick. Walking through the estates, she started singing and attempted to show Leo her dance moves. A laugh, too loud to be anything but a result of her intoxication, fell from her lips when Leo mentioned that her dad was going to kill him for bringing Katie home in such a state. “I wish,” she slurred as Leo’s arm snaked around her waist to hold her up. “That you had offered to leave with me before my second shot of tequila.” She giggled, her face close to his. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to ravish him even, but she was too far gone and even she knew it. She would just have to accept being taken home to bed and apologising for her behaviour in the morning.

“I just want/wanted to help.”

{ v ;; the princess and the moon.

Before Prince had even joined the group he could tell from across the room that Matt had been flirting with Luna. It was something he was starting to pick up on happened a lot and he wasn’t sure if it was something that Matt always did and he never noticed or if the universe was just trying to fuck with his head. He didn’t understand why it made him so mad whenever it did happen, she wasn’t his girlfriend or anything. When he joined the group his suspicions were confirmed but this time he was privy to being in earshot of everything Matt said. It drove him absolutely crazy but he knew he couldn’t say anything. His eyes met Lunas and he noticed her lean in further to hear what Matt was saying to her, a bit unnecessary Prince thought. If he could hear Matt she definitely could, so what was she doing? Letting all control of himself go, Prince snapped, tugging at Matts arm. “Are you looking for a black eye?” He snapped, glaring at his friend who now looked utterly lost. It was a better expression than the suggestive grin he’d had plastered on his lips moments ago. It wasn’t until Matt questioned what he did that Prince remembered that Matt really didn’t know what he was doing wrong. “Nothing.” Prince sighed and let go of him. “You’re just irritating me. D’you not ever know when to just shut up? Give everyone some fucking peace.” He could tell Matt wasn’t even getting an inkling of what was going on which Prince was both glad and still annoyed about. Prince stormed away but as he turned back to glance to see if Luna was going to carry on talking to Matt, some guy bumped into him on the other side when he wasn’t looking, knocking a drink all down the front of him. If Prince was a cartoon there’d be steam coming from his ears and his face would be red, which it probably nearly was anyway. He shoved the guy, unknown to Prince, before punching him in the face, telling him to watch where he was going. The guy, obviously not knowing who Prince was either, retaliated and Nick had to step in eventually, tearing the two males apart after a few digs thrown. Prince didn’t look at anybody as he marched out of the house, wringing his alcohol-soaked shirt with his now blood-covered, bruising hands. He just reached his own flat down the street when he heard his name. He knew the voice. He ignored the voice. Prince went inside and didn’t get to shut the door as Lunas body barricaded it. “Fuck off.” He grumbled. Prince wasn’t even a little bit annoyed by the fight he’d gotten into on the way out, it had actually helped him get some of his rage out. No, the only thing vexing Prince was how much Luna encouraged Matt’s flirting. He went into the kitchen and pulled out a first aid box to tend to his hand. His irritation grew when Luna didn’t fuck off, as instructed, but instead joined him and, at that, started taking charge of mending his hand. He glared at her, arguing that he could do it himself. “I just want to help.” She insisted and he scoffed, ripping the antiseptic cloth from her hand. “What would help is for you not to let my best friend fucking flirt with you like that in front of me all the time.” He snapped before realising himself. His own words threw him but he refused to focus on what they meant, for him and for them. He paused for a moment and, struggling with holding onto the roll of bandage while also loosening it, handed the materials over to Luna to let her help as she wanted, allowing the silence to fall between them as he hopped up onto the counter. If there was any reason in the world to tell their friends about their relationship it would be to stop Matt from flirting with Luna, as playful or as serious as his intentions may be. Though, it wasn’t the first time Prince was storming off when Matt flirted with Luna, so maybe his friends not noticing that and her following him most of the time meant they were too stupid to deserve to know. It didn’t seem like Luna focused on his confession too much, despite how Prince was sure she wanted to, carrying on taking care of him as she started talking about how she used to have to patch up her brother after he got involved in gang stuff. He noticed her go quiet again, not carrying on talking about her brother. Prince sighed and as she finished cleaning up his face, he wrapped his legs around her waist and pulled her in close to him. He didn’t say thanks but he smirked and kissed her. Prince didn’t speak at all, for fear of Luna asking why it bothered him so much when somebody else flirted with her, not that he really understood it all that much either. “If you really want to help” Prince murmured, sliding down from his taken seat on the kitchen counter. “I have a few ideas.” And he nodded towards his bedroom door, smirking playfully.

{ v ;; no reason.

Jason woke with a start, confused as to how or when he’d gotten into the bed. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands, groaning tiredly. Jason cursed when he checked the clock on his phone to see what time it was. He rushed out of the bed and over to his desk, cursing when he saw the smudge of the pencil mark and the dampness of the page. He must have fallen asleep on top of the drawing. He cursed again and this time it gained the attention of Iola, who he hadn’t even noticed had been in the bed beside him. He jumped slightly when she said his name, telling her she’d quite literally only dragged him to bed an hour ago after he fell asleep face-down on a drawing. He ignored her to sit back down at the desk, crumpling up the page he had destroyed by sleeping on it. He didn’t remember falling asleep nor did he know how long he’d been out for but he didn’t exactly have the spare time to just lounge around, not this week anyway. He continued to ignore Iola when she insisted Jason get back into bed. She argued that he needed to sleep when he retaliated that he was fine after the third time she tried to talk him out of continuing with his work. He rolled his eyes. “You should have just woken me up instead of putting me to bed like a kid. I’d have probably woke up earlier if I wasn’t wrapped up in bed anyway.” He didn’t mean to snap at her and it wasn’t as if she did anything harmful. She had literally just tried to be nice by putting him to bed. Jason had been in-over-his-head exhausted the previous evening and as behind in his work as he felt, it was kind of surprising he had done anything without passing out the second he’d got home from work. Jason half-expected Iola to get irritated with him and either go back to sleep or leave his apartment. Instead, he felt her hands slide down his arms. It was intended to calm him down, he knew, but it just irritated him even more. If he was thinking, he’d know it was just the sleep depravity causing his annoyance but Jason wasn’t thinking. He was trying to focus. He sighed, trying to be kinder as he kissed one of her hands. “Iola, baby, I love you but I just need to finish this. The studio said if I can bring in a new portfolio before my next shift they would look at it. I have work tomorrow morning so can you just–” He felt her hands fall loose over his shoulders before the touch was gone completely. He thought she was finally leaving him alone until she mentioned he had loads of time to finish it and if he got a few more hours sleep in maybe he could focus better. She’d obviously picked up that the exhaustion was affecting his tone toward her but her kindness didn’t help. He cursed and turned to face her. “What is your obsession with me being tired? Yeah, I am but I need to do this. It’s not as if my dad can buy me these opportunities, I’ve got to work for it. And you don’t seem to care about how fucking over-exhausted I am when you try to get me to sleep with you every five fucking minutes knowing that I don’t want to!” Jason sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure where his outburst came from and he regretted his words no sooner than they were out of his mouth but he wasn’t in the mood to apologise for it now, nor did he have the time. “Can you just focus on someone other than yourself for once?” After pouring the final salt in the wound, he went back to ignoring her, re-focusing on the art on the table in front of him, partly grateful he had no paint out that she could splash over his half-attempted drawings as she stormed out of the apartment. “I just wanted to help.” She snapped before slamming the door behind her. He sighed and dropped his head on the table. He’d fucked up and the worst part was it was all for nothing because the second the door slammed shut behind her, his muse washed away completely. Now, he probably wouldn’t get his portfolio done on top of the fact that he would have to spend the next three weeks apologising to Iola for his unwarranted outburst.

{ v ;; july 17th.

It was unusual for Zayn to behave the way that he was. Maybe a few years ago, in their early twenties or late teens it wouldn't have been but it was strange now. Zayn had been clean for so long that he hadn’t even remembered how good it felt to get high. Even the slight poisonous-taste at the back of his throat when the line went up his nostril, burning slightly, was something he missed. A part of him had seen this coming, from the way he'd been acting the last few days before he relapsed a few weeks prior to this. Something in him just wasn’t right. He’d not been able to put his finger on it but when he could feel the shakiness, and the scratching feeling leaving his body, he knew. It had been a craving, a lust for drugs seeping into his blood. Now he had broken the seal and his sobriety, and it felt better than ever. He folded up the rest of the baggie and put it into the inside of a hair-gel tub, on top of the peel of paper that separated the lid and gel so the bag wouldn’t get sticky. He returned the tub to his shelf on his side of the sink and exited the bathroom. He frowned when he heard the music playing from downstairs. Was that-- He walked down the stairs, his eyes landing on his wife in the kitchen. “Are you listening to my album?” Though as Imprint played around them, it was kind of a stupid question. He laughed when she told him how much she loved the new album, and he shrugged. He crossed the room to wrap his arms around her, bringing her body close to his. His hands rested on her waist, fingertips tapping against her hips somewhat quickly. Unable to stand still he started singing along to his own music and dancing around, twirling her around just to pull her back to him, chuckling the whole time. In the days before he returned to his old habit he had been quite snappy toward her, and cold. But now, he just adored being around her. He liked this, having her close and dancing around with her. He didn’t even mind that her music of choice to flood the home was his own, which would probably make him feel self-conscious if he didn’t have confidence in the form of white powder flowing burning through him. When she questioned what had gotten into him, he shrugged, a wide smile exposing his teeth, his tongue pushing out. “I’m just happy, I guess. That a crime?” A new song came on the shuffle and Zayn dragged her in while no lyrics played, immediately pressing his lips to hers. “C’mon.” He mumbled, nodding his head upwards to gesture they go upstairs. The lyrics fucked and I want you really felt like they were applying to him right now but he wasn’t going to share that with her as he led her upstairs to their shared bedroom. Zayn rolled out of the bed, feeling slightly anxious. About an hour had passed since he'd done a key. He looked to Ari, his smile matching hers as she beamed at him. “Toilet.” He excused, somewhat rushing into the bathroom. He reached up to his shelf, pulling the hair gel down. He jumped when the door pushed open just as he unscrewed the lid. Should have locked it. His eyes widened but she didn’t seem to pick up on what he was doing, asking if he really needed to do his hair right now. He laughed, nervously, and made some weak joke about keeping up appearances. He went to re-screw the lid and put the tub back but his nerves turned to jelly when Ari took the gel, offering to do it for him. She was teasing him but it was just playful, it wasn't as if she could know what she was doing by taking the tub from him. He couldn’t help his aggression to follow. “No.” He snapped, attempting to pull the tub away, unaware of just how loose the lid was which was all he managed to yank from her. The gel and the little baggie filled with pure white powder both fell to the floor. He tried to distract her by pushing her out of the bathroom but her gaze dropped to the floor and the jig was up, she finally knew why he had been in such a good mood recently. Zayn feared her confiscating the drugs so he rushed to pick them up before she could. “Zayn..” “---What, Arianna? What do you want to say to me? Tell me you’re disappointed? Give out, yell about it?” His hands were beginning to shake and he couldn't stop himself from snapping when she hadn’t even said anything yet, even if he wanted to stop himself, he couldn’t. “It’s just a bit of coke it’s not as if I’m injecting heroine or some fucked up shit, okay, I can stop whenever I want.” He went to march past her, mostly to avoid that look on her face. He shook her off when her hand took his, when she tried to stop him from leaving. “I just want to help.” He paused, feeling the anger of her words seep into his chest. He needed another line, well two, and he needed it now. He shook her off. “I don’t need your help.” He uttered coldly before finally storming away.

{ b ;; aesthetic queens.

The grimace on Cassie’s face was difficult to remove as she was kept up by the sound of shouting and banging in the room down the hall. She missed not knowing who Luna was sleeping with. She now knew she took for granted when the ‘mystery man’ used to whisper and tip-toe around the apartment to avoid being caught. Now, Prince didn’t seem to care if Cass heard every word out of the couple’s mouths. And hear everything, she did. She could hear how cruel they were to each other, could hear the raised voices, and was that– was that a fist into the door? She sighed and reached over to pick up her phone, seeing a message from Nick asking if the noise had gotten any better. She considered climbing out of bed and just going to spend the night at his, despite it being 3am, but her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Luna screaming at Prince and the sound of footsteps stomping down the stairs. Prince slammed the front door shut behind him and Cassie decided it wouldn’t be the best decision to leave Luna here alone. She went to her bedroom door, slowly opening it to reveal her very upset-looking best friend in the doorway of her own room. “Luna…” Cassie wanted to make her feel better but when Luna just slammed the door in her face, they both knew it was to avoid Cassie just talking shit about Prince. Which is exactly what she would have done. She let out a breath and returned to bed. At least the noise had died down, even if it meant she knew her best friend was hurting in the room over. A part of Cassie hoped this meant Luna would finally see Prince Jameson for the asshole Cass believed him to be and would finish things but she hoped that so often it just became futile after a while.

When Cassie rolled out of bed a few hours later to go on her morning run with Nick, she was exhausted, but she wasn’t going to skip out on her jog just because she’d only slept for three hours. “I just don’t understand what she likes about him. He’s fit, whatever, but he has no redeemable qualities.” She panted out her words as Nick pulled her to a stop. When Nick tried to defend Prince by saying he really wasn’t that bad, she rolled her eyes. “He broke your arm because you called him Princess and he’s done a bunch of other stuff I’m sure and you want to call him nice?” She scoffed. How had she managed to surround herself only with people that seemed to see the good in Prince Jameson? Nick tried to go on and say Prince didn’t have it easy but that was an excuse she refused to take seriously. She shook her head and bid her farewell to Nick, carrying on with her run alone. He was supposed to make her feel less like a crap best friend for not supporting her friend’s relationship but he just seemed to make her feel worse, though she knew it wasn’t his intention. When she returned home, Luna was still asleep. Lucky her. Cass shut herself into her bedroom, deciding she deserved a nap. When she woke up a few hours later, the smell of food wafted from downstairs. She wasn’t hungry but she wanted to make sure Luna was okay, also knowing she was probably trying to make up for keeping Cass up half the night with their shouting match. Keeping an open mind, she went downstairs to greet her friend but she was unable to bite down on her opinions at the sight of Luna. She was covered in– were they bruises or hickeys? Her eyes widened when she noticed the purple mark around her wrist, grabbing onto it harsher than she intended. Luna’s attitude in response to Cassie’s concern was staggering. “Are you serious, Luna? He’s no good for you.” She remembered Nick’s defence of him earlier that day. “You know, just because he had a weird childhood, or whatever is wrong with him, doesn’t mean that he can walk around treating everyone like they owe him something for that. It’s not your job to fix him and he shouldn’t treat you like that, it’s not your fault he’s broken but you let him act like it is. I just—” Luna cut her off and she was taken aback by how harsh she was being. They had never really disagreed on anything until this relationship with Prince became knowledge to Cass, so they never knew what it was like to really fight until now. Cass remained silent, turning sheepish as Luna snapped at her. “God Cass, just shut the fuck up and mind your business. I don’t need you telling me who I should and shouldn’t be with. The last time I checked, my mom was dead.” Cassie was surprised, but also hurt by Luna’s words. All she was doing was trying to defend Luna. She certainly didn’t feel like she deserved to be spoken to in the way she was. Out of her control, her eyes watered up but thankfully Luna stormed off before she could see. The fact that he was the reason for the strain on their friendship did no favours for Prince in Cassie’s books. She just hated him more, wishing he didn’t have such a hold over her best friend. “Luna, I just want to help!” She called out but, just like the night before, had the door slammed in her face. Probably going to Prince’s, despite the awful things he’d said to her the night before.

“Stay with me tonight.”

{ v ;; the princess and the moon.

Prince quietened his chuckle by kissing Luna. It was bold, the two of them in acting like a couple when anyone could walk by and discover them at any moment in this public place. Prince couldn’t bring himself to care though, as he pushed her back against the shelf behind her. When they shifted, she knocked several tins of whatever processed foods aisle they were in, causing them both to laugh quietly, lips still pressed together muffling the sound. He pulled away, smirking. It was kind of embarrassing how brightly he was smiling with her, his nose crinkling as he rested his forehead against hers, but he couldn’t really force himself to hide it. No one was around but her so he figured it was fine. He wrapped his arm over her shoulders to guide her away. They were so distracted by each other, laughing and kissing, that they didn’t notice anyone as they turned the corner, not expecting it when they bumped into someone quite suddenly. His eyes went from Luna to the stranger and just as she apologised for getting in the way, he realised it was no stranger. It was practically like looking into a mirror if he had more wrinkles and was somewhat heavier. The man stood in front of them possessed all of Prince’s features, down to the stubble. Even his basket was filled with the exact same beer Prince carried in the one in his hands. His smile completely faded and the look on his face transitioned into a glare. Kadin had a smirk on his face that made Prince fill with unspeakable anger. He went to speak but Prince ignored him and just pulled Luna away in the opposite direction. “We’re leaving, now.” It wasn’t unusual for Prince to see his dad considering they lived in the same city but he didn’t want to drag Luna into all of that.

When they got back to her place, he immediately insisted he needed a shower, if anything just to get a few moments alone. He emerged only five minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair letting droplets of water fall to the floor. The way Luna was looking at him as he re-entered the bedroom was kind of intimidating. It was as though she was admiring him and despite how they’d literally just been rolling around naked together a few hours ago, he felt somewhat over-exposed. He pulled his sweatpants up to his hips, despite not having fully dried himself and the cotton rolled uncomfortably against his legs. He was about to pull his t-shirt over his head when Luna was at his side, taking it from him. He smirked when her hands ran up his chest. He turned to face her. “Hi,” He whispered, his lips pressing against hers. He felt her hand on the scar on his torso. He frowned but instead of pushing her away, placed his hand over hers. He kissed her more fervently as her fingers traced the slightly pink skin there. He knew she’d seen his scars before, of course she had. She had the common sense not to ask about them. He pulled back when she asked what had happened earlier. A part of him didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to dwell, but the other piece of him wanted her to know about him. He was falling for her and he wanted to let her in, not that he’d say that part of it all. He pushed against her shoulders lightly until they fell onto the bed together. “That was my dad.” He admitted quietly, though it was fairly obvious. He brought her hand that had fallen away back to the scar on his front, wrapping his fingers around her index to trace it. “He’s the one that did this to me. And” he pulled her hand to his arm where a smaller, more flat scar was. “This.” A lump formed in his throat. Quietly, he spoke again as he dragged her hand up past the scars on his chest to rest her palm on his neck. “He did all of this.” He was no longer just talking about his physical scars now. His voice was almost inaudible because of the giant lump in his throat, threatening to break Prince at any given moment. “My mum left when Pandora was just a baby, as in just a few months old. She never, y’know, never said goodbye or left a note or anything. I came home from school one day and she was just gone. My dad hit me before then of course but he used to just smack me around a little and it wasn’t really that bad until she left.” He paused as he remembered his childhood. He would come home from school in the afternoon and his dad was usually still asleep but his peace only lasted so long until he could hear the footsteps outside his bedroom door, always knowing something bad was going to happen. He let out a heavy breath, looking down at Luna. “It got pretty, uh, bad when she went away. It started with just him maybe slapping me or shoving me into a wall. Then, he got real mean. Cigarette burns and, uh—” He paused yet again. It was difficult to talk about and he was realising he had never actually talked about it like this. He kept it hidden from Pandora and Matt already knew everything. “He started using stuff to hit me with.” He grimaced, not using the word weapons because that felt too dramatic. “That shit used to hurt so fucking bad, like a bat or his belt or whatever he’d use. Sometimes he even knocked me out, if I didn’t protect my head on time.” Another pause as he reflected. He never really thought about it but as he spoke about it now he was beginning to realise just how unfair it was that he was put through it all. What had he done that was so bad as a child to deserve it? He didn’t know. He looked to Luna and frowned at the expression on her face. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine.” His tone didn’t match his words in anyway but still, she kissed him and he was glad she chose that instead of speaking with pity toward him. He sighed into the kiss, cupping under her jaw lightly. He pulled away and a sudden overwhelming sadness that he never let himself feel washed over him. “I think I should—” But before he could insist on leaving she kissed him again. “Stay with me tonight.” The tone of her voice was soothing, her hands on his body was soothing, the touch of her lips was soothing. Prince needed Luna, Prince loved Luna and looking at her now, after sharing with her, he knew it. He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll stay.” His lips reconnecting with hers. He actually felt something of a weight lifted from him that he’d shared his past with hers.

{ v ;; no reason.

Jason groaned at her offer. She knew what she was doing to him, and at this point he was sure that nothing she was doing was a mistake. The first few times Iola said something suggestive or got too-close with him, he’d thought he was making it up in his own mind that she was trying to get him to break his ‘not-until-18’ pact, driving himself crazy. Part of him thought he was being too cocky to think she cared that much about him wanting or not wanting to sleep with her to try and force him to change his mind just because she insisted she didn’t care about the age thing. Now, he was sure she was doing it all on purpose. His hands rested on her waist and he smirked up at her as she straddled him. “Iola, babe, are you trying to seduce me?” He teased, allowing their lips to meet. When she repeated her offer, telling him to stay with her for the night, he sighed and shook his head. “You know I can’t do that, and you also know why.” His words fell short when he felt her lips attach to his neck, his breathing catching in his throat. This girl was honestly trying to kill him, well and truly. God was finally striking him down for all his sins– He never thought penance could feel this good. A laugh fell from his lips and he gently pushed her aside so she was no longer straddling him, partly so she couldn’t see (or feel) what her touch was doing to him, the heat from her breath on his neck. She was driving him absolutely wild. “I want to spend the night with you, I do, but I’m afraid I might lose control of myself.” He looked at her and couldn’t help himself as he leaned in to kiss her. That was exactly why he couldn’t sleep with her, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself later when they were alone in the dark. He bit down on his lip, one hand cupping her jaw and the other propping him up on the bed. His eyes searched hers. “I do want you, just so you know. It’s not about that. Saying no to you is so fucking difficult but I just don’t want you to regret anything, even if you call me crazy for thinking that.” His forehead fell against hers as his thumb softly traced circles under her jaw. He sighed. “You’ll be eighteen in a few months and I can promise you, it will--” He paused and let a smile take over his lips. “It will not be worth the wait, I’ll be really bad and you’ll hate me for making you wait for something so crap.” He laughed, alleviating the tension in the air with his attempt to change the pact to a joke rather than focusing on what he was turning down by not staying over with her tonight.

{ v ;; July 17th.

Zayn knocked on the door, despite knowing that Ari had it unlocked. A grin plastered his lips when she pulled the door open, clearly irritated someone had forced her to get up from the bed to answer. “Hey.” He looked her up and down and his smile widened. “Is that– is that my shirt?” His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the expression on her face, not having expected him surely. “It suits you, now come on.” He motioned for her to follow him, ignoring her when she questioned him on where she wanted them to go. He knew she would follow him, if anything out of curiosity. And follow him, she did. When she asked again what they were doing, he looked over to her. It was dark in the house, most people fast asleep by now. Far be it for Zayn and Ari to sleep at the same time as the other normal folk of the house. “I want to show you something.” He finally answered. Zayn led Ari out to the garden. Zayn knew Ari liked to read and she’d recently told him about a book that she’d been that invested in that he’d read it just to understand. “So, look.” He pointed up at the stars. “Am I making this up or are those stars aligned exactly like it says in that part of the book you lent me?” He watched as her eyes followed the stars, seeing her thinking of the scene he was referring to. He beamed when she agreed with him. “I just thought you’d like it.” He shrugged, his gaze following hers to go back to watch the stars, too. Part of him just wanted an excuse to hang out with her, another wanted her to know he’d taken her book suggestion. Zayn looked to Ari when he heard her teeth clattering, raising an eyebrow at her. “Cold?” And he didn’t wait for her to answer, pulling his sweater over his head and giving it to her. He smiled, he liked seeing her swallowed up in his clothes like that. “My t-shirt and my jumper? I’ll just hand over my trousers and shoes now too, shall I?” He teased but his arm snaked over her shoulder, pulling her into him, and he leaned in close to her. “If I stand real close, we might preserve body heat.” His words ended with a chuckle when she took him up on his words, the pair shuffling together. They stood like that close together for a while long together before Zayn insisted they go back inside before Ari froze half to death. The walk back to her room was typical Zayn and Ari, laughing and joking. As they walked side by side Zayn stuck out his foot in an attempt to trip Ari but when she picked up on what he was doing she ran off from him, causing him to chase her. He caught up with her, both giggling too loud for anyone to appreciate the noise at this hour. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up to stop her from running. He started tickling her and when she doubled over he was laughing too much to keep his hold on her. He noticed they were almost at her door and let his laughter fall short, a content smile taking control of his lips. “Goodnight.” He murmured, not really making any moves at first. When he finally did go to keep on walking to his own room, he felt her hand on his arm, turning him with no hesitation. He held back a smirk, eyes meeting hers. “Stay with me tonight.” She spoke and the mood from moments ago of them laughing like kids had completely subsided and a tension hovered between them now. He shuffled closer to her, his hands on her waist now. “I’d like that.” He whispered before connecting their lips.

{ v ;; what if.

Ashton smiled sheepishly, hands tucked in his pockets as he cowered at Ari’s front door. She was either going to invite him in or tell him she needed to be alone but thankfully for him, she pulled the door open further and nodded for him to come in. Ashton knew better than to listen to rumours from tabloids and Twitter trends before hearing it from the horse’s mouth but the second his eyes landed on Ari, he knew word of the split was true. It was a kind of heartbreak that not even he was familiar with sprawled across her face that gave her away. He sighed when she guided him into the living room, his eyebrows shooting up at the crowd of pillows sunken in the middle of the couch, making him wonder how long she’d been laying there to make that kind of an imprint. He sat beside her and, unsure of how to behave, took her hand in his. After hearing about the loss of her child, he had tried to both be there for her while also giving her her distance to grieve without putting pressure on her and respecting her relationship. Though he couldn’t stand the way Zayn acted through it all, a part of Ashton always thought he would eventually see the error in his ways, stop clubbing so publicly and finally return to the arms of his fiancée. Ashton couldn’t even imagine having Ari the way Zayn did and abandoning her every night. It just didn’t make sense to him, but he had kept that opinion to himself over the last year. “Ari, I’m sorry. I really thought you two would work things out.” Even if neither of them believed those words, it was what he had to say and he knew it. When she shifted in a way that her head was leaning on his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her and gently grazed her forehead with his lips, one hand brushing through her hair soothingly. He was here as her friend and that was it. Ashton didn’t think of their split as his opportunity to jump in and he hoped she wouldn’t think that too but he figured she wouldn’t fall into his embrace so easily if she did. When Ari changed the subject by asking him about anything that was as opposite to the topic of Zayn as possible, Ashton indulged her. If anything, to take her mind off of things. After a few hours, he noticed Ari becoming more tired, eyes fluttering shut and more than one yawn slipping from her lips. He shifted to alert her. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He whispered. She was compliant, allowing him to practically carry her up the stairs. He lay her down in the bed and just as he pulled the covers over her, felt her hand wrap around his wrist. He frowned. “Stay with me tonight.” Her words were only half-surprising to him. He shook his head. He wanted to. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, right now.” He tried to keep his features expression-less but as his eyes met hers, he couldn’t hide just how much he wanted to take her up on her offer. He let out a breath and kicked off his shoes, clambering under the covers with her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back to him. His lips brushed against her hair and he sighed, whispering for her to relax and go to sleep.

{ b ;; partners in crime.

Prince paused just as he was about to enter the room when he heard Matt speaking, telling someone to stay the night with him. He wasn’t eavesdropping, he just didn’t know that Matt wasn’t alone in the house. A frown formed on Prince’s face when he heard the other person agree to stay the night. Was that– “Pandora?” Prince quizzed as he barged into the room. The sight that greeted him was the last thing Prince had ever expected to see; his best friend and his sister lip-locked, hands all over each other. Prince was taken aback as the pair pulled away from each other. “What the fuck?” He raised his voice but made no movements, despite how his hands had already curled into fists. He wanted to lunge across the room and knock Matt’s lights out, tell him to stay away from his little sister. He’d never gotten violent in front of Panda, and he wasn’t going to start now. “One of you better explain what the fuck is going on, right now.” He glared at Matt. What the fuck was he doing kissing his sister and asking her to spend the night? Prince had always thought of Matt as a brother, he was family to Prince. He thought Pandora felt the same so the idea of them getting together was almost somewhat disgusting to Prince. There was also the added fact of both the age difference and the fact that one was his best friend and the other his sister. It just felt wrong to Prince. His shock only grew further when Panda took hold of Matt’s hand and explained to Prince that they were together and had been for a few months. “And you can’t tell me who I can or can’t date either.” She snapped with an abrasive tone and honestly Prince understood why she was acting like that. The reaction he wanted to give was probably the one they were expecting. He could tell by Matt that he was expecting a fist to the face. Prince opened his mouth to speak but shut it again, unsure of what to say. He sighed. “I know I can’t, Panda, and I’m not going to. Are you–” He frowned looking between them. “Are you serious about this? Him?” He gave Matt a glance before focusing on Panda again. Prince felt uncomfortable when she put a hand on Matt’s shoulder before she went on to say that she loved him, at which point Matt chimed in, agreeing. “Love?” Prince chuckled but they seemed serious, taking him away from his laughter. A frown formed on his face as he realised exactly what was happening; his best friend and his little sister were dating. It horrified him. He let out a breath. “Fine. I’m not your fucking dad, I can’t tell you what to do. If you want to be together, that’s up to you guys. I guess if you say you’re in love, I can’t say anything.” He shrugged and then his glance flickered to Matt. “But if you hurt her I will fucking kill you, that’s a promise mate.” With that, Prince marched off. He wasn’t about to argue with them if they insisted they were serious about each other but he also wasn’t ready to sit around and celebrate them as a couple. As he made his way out of Matt’s home, he still couldn’t wrap his brain around the idea.

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