x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 9

“Is- is he okay? Where is he? What’s he been arrested for? Is he hurt?” you asked in quick succession, the panic overwhelming you.

“I can’t tell you what he’s been arrested on suspicion of until we charge him but he’s okay, darlin’, he’s fast asleep in his cell. We’re in Charing Cross Station,” the officer replied. But any comfort that answer could have given you was overridden by anger.  

“He said he was seeing friends this weekend… he was supposed to be in Norfolk.”

“I see,” she replied neutrally.

“When- when did he get arrested?” you asked evenly.

“Uhh, officers brought him in a couple of hours ago. He gave us your number as his emergency contact.”

“Is it serious… what he’s been arrested for?”

“I can’t give you any details, I’m sorry.”

“What can you tell me?” you asked impatiently. 

“Until we charge him there’s little other information I can give.”

You resisted growling in frustration. “When will he be charged?”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t say.”

“Well can you let me know when he is? Is this number the best one to ring you on?” you asked shortly.

“As soon as he’s charged we’ll let you know, darlin’.”

“Alright,” you muttered. 

“You take care of yourself,” she said sweetly.

“Bye,” you said just before hanging up.

Then you dropped your phone onto the couch. Flopped face first onto the sofa. And screamed.

What. The. Fuck.

The next hour went by in a panicked blur. You gnawed at your fingernails, paced back and forth, then aggressively searched through all of Justin’s shit in the flat you could find. You were knee deep in his underwear drawer when your phone rang. You darted for the device, and answered.

“Hello?” you breathed out.

“Hi, is that Miss Peters? It’s PC Davies again.”

“Has he been charged?”

“I’m afraid that’s not why I’m calling darlin’. I need to inform you there’s some officers who need to search your apartment, they’re just leaving the station now.”

“What? Don’t you need a warrant?” you asked, looking around your flat at the state of it, panicked.

“We’ve got one.”

You felt sick. Your heartbeat jumped into your throat. “O-okay,” you mumbled, your hands beginning to tremble.

“They should be there in the next hour or so, alright?”

“Okay,” you murmured even more quietly.

“Alright, take care darlin’,” she said, sickly sweet, before hanging up. 

This can’t be right. This wasn’t right. You needed to speak to Justin. You needed to know what the hell was going on.

Were you supposed to tidy the flat? Would that look like you were trying to hide something? What the fuck was he hiding here?! In your shared home?!

You sniffed back more tears and shakily put Justin’s clothes you dumped on the floor back where they belonged. If you didn’t find anything, how the hell were they going to? What would they even be looking for?

You hovered by the door until the police arrived, picking off even more of your fingernails and even the skin around your cuticles. Finally, a loud knock echoed in your apartment, and you immediately opened the door. Three officers- Jesus three- stood outside, two male, one female.

“Miss Peters?” the closest male asked. He looked to be in his mid 40s, with greying hair and what was definitely a beer belly.

You nodded. 

“My name is PC Forrester, we have a search warrant for the property, if you’d like to step aside please,” he said almost coldly as he raised the warrant to show you.

You nodded again and stepped to the side to let them in. Once they had cleared the space in your doorway, you looked down the hall towards Bucky’s open front door.

Why was he watching? Why did he look so… on edge? Why the hell did it fill you with a deep sense of shame?

You slammed your door.

“Do- do you want anything? A cup of tea?” you asked hesitantly. 

“No thank you miss, we shouldn’t be too long,” the female officer replied in a warmer tone than her male counterpart. “My name’s PC Jones and this is PC Marlow,” she gestured towards the other male. You nodded again and committed the names to memory.

You watched like a hawk as they searched through your flat from top to bottom. It was embarrassing, violating… You weren't sure what to say, what to do. 

“So does your boyfriend often spend time out of the flat?” the younger male, PC Marlow, asked whilst PC Forrester made his way into your bedroom.

You shook your head vehemently. “No he- he likes to game a lot. He sees his friends a normal amount,” you replied, trying to watch what was going on through the open doorways.

“And how’s he been lately?” he asked, trying to keep your attention.

“He’s- he’s been fine,” you replied, despite the memories of the soil, the weird smell-

No…

No way.

“Nothing unusual in his behaviour lately?” PC Marlow asked, his eyes fixed on you.

What do you do? What the fuck are you supposed to do?

“Uhh, no, nothing,” you replied. The officer nodded, then went back to searching your living room.

A few long moments later, the female officer emerged from the kitchen. “How long have you lived here?” she asked.

“Under a year,” you replied.

Were you being questioned? 

“Are you happy here? You and your boyfriend?”

“Yeah...” you said softly, though deep down you knew it was a lie.

This was horrible. What the fuck had Justin done. You were so close to breaking down in tears when PC Forrester emerged from your bedroom and nodded towards the other officers.

“Alright Miss, I think we have everything we need. We’ll be in touch.”

“Can- can’t you tell me what he’s been arrested for?”

“I’m afraid we’re unable to disclose anything further at this time, but as soon as Mr. Bates has been charged, we'll let you know,” he answered as he made his way to your door. It left you with a bitter aftertaste. He opened your door, and the trio stepped out.

“Goodnight miss,” PC Jones said with a soft smile and a nod, before they walked off down the stairwell. You gently closed your front door, slumped against it, and slid to the floor.

That was too quick. They found something… You know they did. They fucking found something.

You started to cry. What the fuck was going on? 

You began to sob. Was Justin doing drugs?

You scrambled to your sofa to sob into the cushion loudly. What was going to happen now?

You stayed on your sofa, crying, for most of the night. You weren't sure what to do. Should you tell someone? Should you wait? Should you phone for an update? Google drugs charges? Try and figure out where they found what they were looking for?

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because you awoke with a headache to the sound of your alarm. You winced as you scrambled to find your phone, almost hitting the snooze button until you noticed how low the battery was. You groaned as you sat up, then it all came flooding back.

You were on the sofa. Justin wasn’t here. Justin wasn’t arrested. It was 6 am and they haven’t fucking called you to even tell you what for!

You started to cry again.

What were you supposed to do? It was Monday morning, were you supposed to go to work? Act normal?

You put your phone to charge, and tried to do just that. You slowly began to get ready for the day. You wiped stray tears as you washed your face. You stifled a small gag as you brushed your teeth. You paced around your flat, too anxious to go to the gym as your stomach churned. 

At 7 am, your phone rang. You dashed to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey…” Justin’s hesitant voice came through the speaker.

“What the fuck is going on Justin?” you demanded.

“They’ve charged me.”

“With. What.”

“Possession of class B drugs…”

“What- what the fuck!? How?! Why?!” you practically screeched as your hand flew into your hair.

"Calm down I'll-"

"You told me you were going to fucking Norfolk!"

"I know..." he said, at least he head the decency to sound guilty. "I'll explain everything when I see you.”

“When you- what’s happening now?”

“They’re releasing me for the time being.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know, they said I’ll have to attend court to plead guilty or not.”

“And are you?” you demanded again. There was a pregnant pause.

“Am I what?” he asked quietly.

“Guilty," you said firmly.

“Jess I’m sitting in the police room I’m not- I can’t… Look, we can talk about this later, okay? I’ll be home soon.”

“So you want me to pull a sickie so I can wait around and hear your story?” you asked scathingly, even though that was what you wished you could do.

“I assumed that’s what you’d do. That’s what I’d have done if you were arrested.”

“I have work- I have that important meeting today!”

“Your work is more important than me,” he said, as a statement. 

“That’s not what I mean! I meant can’t you-”

“No no, go on, go to work I’ll talk to you later.”

“No Justin that’s not-”

“I said we’ll talk later Jess. Bye,” he said, hanging up before you could protest any further. 

“Fuck!” you screeched. You pinched the bridge of your noise, holding back tears, then forced yourself into automatic mode. You couldn’t break down. You had to stay strong.

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 8

Summary: Waking up in your neighbour's flat led to some mildly awkward conversations

Word count: 1.7k

You winced when you opened your bleary eyes, looking around the interior of Bucky’s flat in confusion. Until last night came screaming back to you.

“Oh god…” you muttered. You spotted a glass of water on the table and two painkillers, a present from Bucky you presumed. Your hand flew out to take them both before anything else. Then you fumbled for your phone and checked the time; already 11 in the morning. Why hadn’t Justin even bothered to message you?

You wiped your eyes without considering how it would smudge your make up, and made your way to Bucky’s bathroom. His bedroom door was shut, but subtle whiffs of shower gel wafted into your nostrils. Droplets of water on the side of the bathtub confirmed he must be up, somewhere…

Once you had finished in there and cleaned up the residue make up on your face, you tip toed back into the-

“You’re awake,” Bucky commented, startling you. 

“Jesus,” you breathed out, then winced as your head throbbed. He stood in the doorway to his kitchen, a cup of coffee in his still gloved hand.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe a little. His hair was still damp, and he smelt good.

“Yeah thanks for letting me crash, again,” you replied awkwardly. He simply nodded in response. “I hope I wasn’t too much of a pain to deal with?” 

“You gonna be okay getting your keys for your flat?” he asked, dodging your question.

You nodded. “Yeah I can head into the uh- the office, go get my stuff…”

Bucky’s eyes gave you a quick once over. “You want any coffee before you go?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” you smiled timidly. You tentatively followed him into his kitchen, watching him as he made the drink. The flat felt warm, surely he didn’t need gloves? Wordlessly, he handed you the hot beverage, your fingertips longing to have touched his through the black material.

“I’ve got things to do today. Need to head out soon,” he said. It took you a moment to realise he was basically indicating you need to leave.

“What sort of things?” you nevertheless asked. When you took a sip of your coffee and he still didn’t answer, you continued. “Sometimes it’s like pulling teeth trying to get a straight answer from you,” you joked.

“Some things are better left unsaid.”

“Is paying your bills that top secret?” you continued to tease.

“They’re already paid for,” he replied stoically. You continued to look at him, equally confused as you were intrigued. You took another few sips of your coffee as the silence stretched on. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“What do you do for work?” 

He scoffed, then finished off his cup of coffee as you watched him, frowning.

“That’s not a weird question,” you said defensively. He said nothing as he rinsed his mug out. “What, you an American spy something?” you chuckled. His shoulders immediately stiffened and he let out a small sigh before turning to face you.

“My job is not your concern.”

“Alright… keep your secrets,” you replied, wondering if he’d get the reference as you tried your hardest not to look as unsettled as you felt. His expression didn’t look like he did. You sighed, and put the mug down on the counter. “Thanks for the coffee, and letting me stay again.”

“No problem,” he muttered. 

You bit your lip, hovering in the kitchen, before walking back to the living room to grab your phone. You barely heard Bucky on your heels, only clocking his presence once you heard his front door unlock. 

“Alright well, see you around,” you said with a smile as you left his flat once more. He shut the door behind you without so much as a wave goodbye. You pursed your lips as you made your way down the stairwell, wondering if you’d said something wrong. Was it asking about his job? Or what he’d got planned for the day?

You ruminated on it the whole journey back to your office building, trying to straighten out yesterday’s clothes so you didn’t look like you were doing some sort of walk of shame. You were lucky your phone still had enough battery to pay for your transport, or you’d be screwed. 

Was Bucky offended you jokingly asked if he was a spy? 

What if he was a spy? You don’t even know the man’s full name…

Christ you wished your phone had more battery so you could spend time Googling him.

You avoided eye contact with the weekend security guard at your office, trying to look as professional and not hungover as possible. You held your head high as you confidently made your way to your floor to grab your belongings.

No, Bucky was just a normal guy. It was just your overactive mind again making you paranoid. Just like his weirdly healed black eye. Just like worrying about Justin. It’s all in your head.

By the time you got back to your flat, it was mid afternoon, and you were too drained to do anything else. You finally showered and changed whilst your completely dead phone charged up. Once you were all cozy in some comfortable pj’s, you turned your phone on.

Still nothing from Justin.

You typed out a message, and annoyingly he read it within seconds. Which then became an entire evening of back and forth passive aggressive then actually aggressive text messages with the man. Your dinner half uneaten. Your glass of wine, practically untouched. 

You cried yourself to sleep.

You woke up Sunday morning, the empty bed sending a jolt of sadness through you, only to be dulled as the argument came flooding into your mind. You scrolled through the messages, how he spoke to you was… toxic. But you asked for it. You kept pushing. You brought up the weird soil you found on the floor. You made him mad for being suspicious.

You dropped your phone onto the bed, you didn’t want to ruminate any longer. You forced yourself to leave the warmth, pushed yourself to go to the gym to prevent yourself from falling into a self pitying funk. Your legs and arms both burned by the time you were done, having spent two hours in the small basement facility. 

Once you were showered and changed, it wasn’t even midday. You hadn’t heard from Justin since the night before, but you still had a few hours to kill before he was due home. It was frustrating that on one of your rare free weekends, he decided to visit his mates. More frustrating still that the weekend felt wasted as your mood was so dampened by the awful argument the night before. Insults were hurled left right and centre, snide comments, Justin even dragged Bucky into your argument. So you brought up the soil and his dirty fingernails.

Then, inspiration struck you.  

You grabbed your purse and headed to your nearest Timpson’s. The landlord wouldn’t mind you creating a new key, right? You weren’t sure. Justin was the one to deal with the letting agency and pay rent, whilst you paid for all the other bills. It equaled out eventually.

A third key would prevent you getting stuck outside your flat ever again. Not that you planned on doing it a third time, but it couldn’t hurt to have it in case of emergencies.

A couple of hours later, a box of Selfridges doughnuts in one hand and the freshly cut key in the other, you knocked on Bucky’s door.

“Hi, again,” you smiled, “I brought these for you,” you said as you held both items out slightly awkwardly. 

Bucky frowned as he looked down at them, taking the doughnuts first. “What’s this?”

“A key,” you replied brightly, beginning to regret the impulsive decision.

“To… your apartment?” he asked skeptically.

You nodded. “In case of e-emergencies.”

“You’re trusting me with a key to your apartment?” he asked even more skeptically. His tone made you question the decision, but you nodded anyway. “Why?”

“In case of- well in case anything like Friday night happened again…” you replied, still holding the key out in front of you. He still didn’t take it, so you began to put it away.

“It was a dumb-”

“No I’ll take-”

You both said at the same time. “I can keep it safe for you,” Bucky reiterated, holding his hand out for it. You relaxed somewhat, then dropped the item in his outstretched palm. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, then awkwardly hovered again as Bucky pocketed the key. “I just figured you know, it would make sense for someone close by to have a key. I can’t really leave it in a ‘safe place’ in the complex. Not that I plan on misplacing mine again.”

Bucky just nodded. 

“But umm… thanks. The doughnuts were payment for- jeez no payment is the wrong word. A token of goodwill.”

Bucky stifled a snort and you felt your cheeks flush.

“Well, thank you for the doughnuts. You should get some rest,” he said quietly, then slowly began to shut the door.

“You too!” you automatically replied before you could stop yourself. You sighed gently as you walked back into your flat. “‘You too’,” you muttered to yourself, feeling like an idiot.

You tried to distract yourself from the mild embarrassment and Justin’s radio silence by watching some TV. You'd been sitting on your sofa for a couple of hours when the worry truly creeped in. It wasn’t like Justin to ignore you for this long, not when he was conscious anyway. You stress cleaned the flat, but that didn't take long. Then you stress ate a massive portion of the dinner you’d cooked for the two of you. He was supposed to be home by now… Another long hour pacing back and forth in your apartment later, a private number rang your mobile.

"Hello?" you said apprehensively. 

"Hi, is that Jess speaking?" a bright female voice said.

“Yeah, who's this?”

“I’m PC Davies, I'm calling to let you know that Justin Bates has been arrested.” 

Your stomach dropped. “What?!”

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 41 is now live on AO3 for A Knight to Remember!

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 7

Summary: A night out after work leads to another unplanned stay with your tall, dark and handsome neighbour down the hall

Word count: 1.7k

Your late nights continued into the following week. You came home that Sunday from a long lunch with a few old co-workers now turned friends, the strange marijuana smell still lingering in the flat. But it also mingled with the smell of fried chicken. It was so bad that after giving Justin a quick greeting, choosing to ignore the dirt underneath his fingernails, you changed into your gym clothes and went downstairs for two hours. Partly to avoid a conversation with your boyfriend which would no doubt aggravate you, partly on the off chance you’d see Bucky, but mainly because you just wanted to be alone.

The first couple of days that week were bad enough, you were tired from staying at work late as well as continuing your early morning gym routine on top of that. You were tired of biting back scathing comments you wanted to make to Justin about why the hell you noticed a bit of soil on the floor of your literally plantless apartment. By Thursday, you felt particularly rough. You arrived back around 11pm, exhausted and coming down from a sugar rush after scoffing an entire packet of wine gums on the train home.

“Seems like this is becoming a habit,” Bucky called up from a flight of stairs below.

“I know, it's late,” you said, slowing down so he could catch up.

“Didn't you leave early this morning too?” he replied, oddly quickly by your side.

“…yeah…” you said with resignation as you opened the door to the corridor and waited for him to go first. He seemed momentarily perplexed at your action before stepping through. You walked towards your own front door, but Bucky followed. You looked up at him, now you were perplexed.

“You’re burning the candle at both ends, Jess.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his perception. “It's fine,” you shrugged.

Bucky pursed his lips. “Doesn’t seem fine.”

“What’s it to you anyway?” you challenged, your tiredness making you more argumentative than usual.

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “It’s not anything to me. I’m just saying.”

“Well… I appreciate the concern but keep your sayings to yourself.”

He sighed. “Alright.”

You hovered, you wanted to talk to the man more, but weren’t sure what to actually say. You inhaled a deep breath, catching a whiff of his cologne. “I umm-” you began. Think of something you begged yourself. “Do you always wear gloves?” you blurted out, regretting the words before they even left your mouth.

“It’s cold out,” he replied nonchalantly. 

“You wear them in your apartment too,” you pointed out quietly. His expression remained neutral, his eyes boring into yours. After too long of a silence, you fished your key from your pocket.

“You should consider slowing down,” he muttered as he stalked off to his front door.

You didn’t understand what that was about, but you didn’t take his advice. 

The next day you were invited for drinks after work with your female colleagues. A rare event, one you for sure wouldn’t turn down. Drinks with Ellie, Charlotte, Lily, and Barbara (admittedly Barbara was a bit older than the rest of you) were always fun. You left most of your belongings and valuables that you didn’t want to carry around behind in the office, locked in your desk cabinet. You even left your coat. You were fully intending on coming back to pick up your stuff. You were just going for a drink, you were only going to be out 2 hours, maximum. The bar was just round the corner. Just one drink.

How that turned into a full night out you have no idea.

You stumbled out of the cab and walked haphazardly into the building lobby, too drunk to notice how cold it was. You groaned as you reached the bottom of the stairs, then stumbled up, snickering to yourself. By the time you reached the top, you were desperate to just sleep. And pee. And drink some bloody water. You stood, or rather swayed, outside your front door, fumbling for your keys.

“No no no no no,” you muttered, frantically searching your pockets. “Not again,” you groaned loudly. You could have sworn you brought them with you to the bar- then you remembered. No… you left them at work, figuring they’d be ‘safer’ locked in the cabinet than in your stupidly shallow trouser pockets.

You sighed and looked around the deserted corridor. You didn’t want to do it… You already felt guilty and awkward after the man let you stay the last time. But it was almost 3 am, and Justin was hundreds of miles away visiting friends that weekend. If Bucky saw you sitting outside the flat again, like this, he’d probably be pissed you didn't ask for help. You quietly approached his door, maybe he would be out? Maybe he wouldn’t have to know?

You knocked quietly, and within a second Bucky opened the door. His hair was slightly disheveled and he clearly needed a shave, but his blue eyes were bright. 

“Jess?” he asked quietly, taking in your appearance.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I umm… I don’t have my key and yeah it’s a bit ridiculous, my home is right there and I can’t get… so can I…” you trailed off when in the sliver of the door crack, you spotted the legs of someone sitting on his sofa. Female legs. You looked back up to Bucky, his expression unreadable. “If now’s a bad time I can…” you pointed behind you as you began to stumble backwards, awkwardly.

“No, she was leaving,” he said, looking at you even more concerned as you wobbled on your feet.

A petite red head suddenly appeared at the door, smiling slyly as she looked up at Bucky and slipped past. Her black skin tight outfit left nothing to the imagination.

“Remember what I said. See you around Buck,” she said. Another American? She turned and looked you up and down, judgmentally, before sauntering down the hallway. Bucky let out a small sigh, then ushered you inside.

“You’re drunk,” he stated.

“How do you know?”

“You’re stumbling and I can smell it.”

“Oh,” you murmured, then tried to subtly sniff your clothes. It apparently wasn’t that subtle, as you heard Bucky snort gently. You looked up to see his eyes glinted with amusement.

“Sit down before you fall down,” he instructed, and gently put his hand on your back to guide you to the sofa. You plopped down and hiccuped. “How did you forget your keys this time?”

“I left them in the office before-” you hiccuped again “before we went out for drinks.”

“You came home without your coat in this weather?” he gently scolded.

“‘S fine,” you mumbled, waving a dismissive hand. You heard him sigh before you felt something soft being placed over your shoulders. “You own a blanket?” 

“Yeah I own a blanket.”

“Cause your flat’s like super bare,” you drunkenly pointed out. When he didn’t reply for a beat you continued. “Like- like I’d have thought you’d have more stuff by now or maybe if you don’t it means…”

“Means what?” he gently probed. You didn’t detect the shift in his tone.

“I dunno means you’re up to something shaddyyyy,” you replied in a sing-song tone.

“And why would I be up to something shady?” he asked quietly.

You shrugged. “Can I use your bathroom?” you blurted out, then without waiting for an answer you stood up, letting the blanket fall to the couch. You stumbled towards where you thought the room was.

“On the left,” Bucky called out to you as you hovered, staring into the door to his bedroom. It was somehow even more bare, yet neat. But nature called too strongly for you to look any longer, and you practically slammed the door to the bathroom shut behind you. You tried to take in details of the room there too, but your head was spinning and a headache was forming. Once you were finished, you stumbled back to the sofa, and sank unceremoniously down onto it.

“Do you smoke weed?” you asked, glancing around the flat once again.

“No,” Bucky answered, then sighed. “Why?”

You shrugged. “My boyfriend said maybe you did.”

“And where is this boyfriend of yours?”

“He’s- he’s with friends,” you mumbled, lying back against the couch.

“I see,” he replied quietly whilst you pulled the blanket around yourself again. “You really should get a spare key.”

“And who’s gonna keep it, you?” you retorted with a scoff.

“You got no one else nearby?”

You yawned. “Yeah but like the opposite side of the city.” You were finding it increasingly hard to keep your eyes open. “Do you have anyone nearby?”

“No,” he replied quietly.

“Who was that red head?” you asked as you closed your eyes.

“A passing visit.”

“Uh huh,” you drawled, not believing him. “She was pretty.”

“She is,” he agreed softly, and you opened an eyelid. He was gazing out of his window. 

“Is she from back home?”

“I don’t have a home,” he murmured. You frowned at the bluntness of the statement, wondering what it could mean.

“W-what about a family?” you whispered, and even through your drunk haze you knew you were treading on thin ice.

“No family either.”

Your frown deepened and you sat up, opening both eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he muttered. 

After a few beats, you spoke again. “Why did you move here?”

But abruptly, Bucky stood up. “You should get some rest,” he said quietly. 

Guilt settled uneasily in your stomach as you realised you crossed a line. You watched Bucky walk quietly away and mumbled out a ‘I'm sorry’ that you doubt he heard. His bedroom door shut softly and you groaned, hating yourself for your line of questioning as you closed your eyes. You felt dizzy again, and flopped onto your side on the sofa. You tried to think about how you could make things right, why he reacted like that, but you were too drunk still to stay awake, and before you knew it, you passed out.

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 40 just posted on AO3 of A Knight to Remember!

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 39 just posted on AO3 of A Knight to Remember!

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 6

Summary: You convince yourself that the strange goings on with your boyfriend are 'just nothing' after all.

Word count: 1.6k

It took all of your willpower to resist going to the bathroom to text back. Your mind wandered to Justin’s message throughout the first half, which as always was very long. As soon as the lights came on for the interval, you whipped your phone out.

“What do you mean?” you texted back, but the message didn’t send. You watched it fail to send three times before you stood up and quickly made your way towards the bar.

“Eager for a drink, are we?” your cousin Tom, teased as you shuffled past.

“No, the loo,” you lied. You wanted the signal. You beelined to a free window, and your phone finally connected.

Justin replied within seconds. “I bumped into him in the hall. How’s the show?”

“The show is good. What did you say to Bucky?”

You waited, refreshing your phone numerous times as the minutes counted down. Nothing came through.

“Enjoying the show?” Aunty Sandy startled you, her eyes flitting down to your phone in your hands. You locked the screen and put it in your pocket.

“Yeah, it’s good, just as always,” you smiled. 

“I tell you what, that Marius is giving Michael Ball a run for his money. And the soprano notes on Cosette!” she said, opening her programme and peering close into it “Trained at RADA. Gosh look at her previous work, Phantom, Cats-” she continued, but your phone buzzed, and you zoned out of the conversation. You quickly fished it from your pocket, and read the notification from Justin.

“We just had a little chat about you.”

The tannoy dinged.

“Jess? Did you hear what I said?” Aunty Sandy asked as the tannoy announcement began.

“Can everyone please make their way back to their seats, the show will begin in 5 minutes.”

You looked up to her, then back at your phone, then back up to her. 

“Jess?”

You cleared your throat and nodded. “Yeah, no, I heard. Phantom, Cats…”

“Everything alright? You seem a bit distracted,” she asked, pursing her lips.

“Yeah I’m just being umm…” you trailed off, then shook your head, and plastered on a smile. “Come on, I’ll see if I can get you an ice cream before the lights go down,” you said, linking your arm in hers, leading her towards the counter. You were overthinking, is what you told yourself repeatedly until the lights went down for the second act. This half was much shorter, and you distinctly heard some sniffles coming from both your cousin Lucy, and Uncle Terry. Even you felt some wetness in your eyes during the epilogue. By the time you joined in giving the cast a standing ovation, you’d almost forgotten about Justin’s texts.

You had a brief post show discussion with your family as you exited the auditorium, then bade the foursome goodbye in the foyer. You headed one direction down the street towards the tube, and they headed the opposite, towards the train station. The wind was bitingly cold as you walked amongst the crowds. Just when you were about to text Justin back, your phone died. You groaned quietly, and shoved the thing back in your pocket.

You hated using the tube without anything to distract yourself with. It made you all the more self conscious of anyone looking at you and made you feel pressured to actually look back. But the journey was quick, with surprisingly no delays, and the walk to your building was free from any random weirdos approaching you in the night. When you finally made your way to your corridor, you paused, glancing between Bucky’s door, and your own. You still owed him for letting you stay in his flat the previous week. You sighed gently as you put the key in the lock, and entered your apart-

Holy hell did it smell.

You glanced around, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. You could hear Justin laughing in the living room, the sounds of Fifa on high volume. You groaned. You doubt Bucky the neighbours wanted to hear him playing with his simulated footballers at half eleven at night.

“Hey,” you called over to him. He didn’t reply as he scored another goal, cheering at the screen. So it was your turn to be blanked. You walked into the room, the strange smell still lingering, and plopped yourself onto the sofa. “How’s your day been?”

“Fine,” he said absentmindedly, more focused on the game. “You?”

“Yeah, fine,” you replied just as nonchalantly. “So…”

“So…?” he asked, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“What did you talk about? With Bucky?”

“Oh that,” he replied, his shoulders relaxing. “I saw him in the hall, decided to introduce myself.”

“Did his eye look-”

“You’re still going on about that?”

“I just wonder-”

“He didn’t have a black eye, Jess.”

“He literally di-”

“He didn’t, Jess. I don’t know why you’d think that.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, already getting pissed at the way he just cut you off three sentences in a row. “What did you say then?”

“He asked if you were in, I said no, then made a joke about him missing you. He just stared at me. Then I joked you have a crush on-”

“You did WHAT?!” you shouted, and Justin chuckled.

“Relax, he knows I’m joking.”

Does he?!

“Why would you do that!”

“Why are you getting so defensive over it, babe? It’s just a joke.”

“I’m- for god’s sake Justin! You’re such an arse.”

“You love me really,” he retorted. You bristled at the comment, not in the mood for that sort of banter.

“What’s that smell?” you demanded.

“What smell?”

“The smell so strong there’s no way you’d not be able to smell it right now?”

“Think someone’s been smoking weed on our floor. Wondered if it was Bucky, to be honest,” he commented, then cleared his throat.

“He’s not like that.”

“How would you know?”

“He doesn’t seem the type, his flat was too bare and he’s never smelt of-”

“Wow, you’ve been sniffing him?” he teased.

“Will you stop cutting me off!” you snapped.

He continued to chuckle to himself, starting up another match. “Time of the month?” he quipped. You clenched your jaw and stood up. “Was the show good?” he called to you as you marched to the bedroom.

“It was,” you said scathingly then slammed the door behind yourself. 

You immediately opened the bedroom windows then flopped onto the bed, curling up onto your side under the duvet.

He’s such an arse!

You took your clothes off under the covers, plugged your phone in to charge, then closed your eyes.

Sleep surprisingly found you easily. You woke up the next morning, the room cold, but with a distinctly warm body beside you. Wait, not just beside you, touch- touching you.

“Justin?” you murmured, shifting position. His fingers retracted from pinching your exposed nipple, but he wrapped his arm around your waist and rolled you to face him. You had only a second to contemplate if he’d been touching you in your sleep before he pulled you in for a kiss. The mint on his breath is unexpected, but you fall back into the familiarity of the kiss. The touches. The moans.

In the heat of the moment though, you noticed what looked like dirt on his arm.

“Have you showered?” you blurted out, pausing your movements as you sat on top of him.

Justin frowned, “Way to ruin the mood, Jess.”

“No I just- there’s dirt. On your arm,” you replied as you reached out to wipe it away.

“I dunno, Jess. Just ignore it.”

“But how would it even get there?”

He sighed impatiently, grabbed onto your hips, then deliberately thrusted deep. “Stop. Asking. Questions,” he punctuated between thrusts. It felt good enough to make you re-focus.

Once you’d finished and were in the shower, you tried a different tactic.

“So what did you get up to yesterday?”

“Not much. Fifa, pizza, went for a walk.”

“You never go for a walk.”

“Felt like getting out of the flat for a bit,” he muttered.

“Was it a nice walk?”

“Yeah,” he said vaguely.

“Where did you go?”

“What’s with the 50 questions, Jess?” he practically snapped.

“Okay fine! I give up,” you retorted, turning the water off aggressively. You stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself, not making eye contact with Justin as you walked past. You got ready for the rest of your day in silence. At least in your head, because Justin decided to put his music on loud as he showered. And ans along. Off key.

Once you were ready, you walked over to him sitting on the sofa, mid Fifa match.

“Okay well I’ve got to go now.”

“Okay,” he mumbled.

“Lunch with my friends.”

“Okay.”

You clenched your jaw so hard it hurt one of your teeth. “Have fun,” you said passive aggressively before leaving the flat.

You sighed deeply in the corridor, and looked longingly at Bucky’s front door. 

“This isn’t normal,” you muttered to yourself as you stomped down the stairs. You wondered if Bucky would treat a partner like that. If anyone would? Was it normal? Maybe it was… 

As you stepped onto the bus, you rationalised that maybe it wasn’t that bad. It’s just quarrels. Lovers quarrels. And you shouldn’t be fantasising about Bucky anyway. You have a boyfriend who you love, very, very much. Things could be worse. Bucky was insanely attractive to you now, but you love Justin. 

As you opened the door to the pub, you decided maybe you’re just making a big deal out of nothing.

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

OSCAR ISAAC as Duke Leto Atreides DUNE (2021)

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 5

Summary: Meeting up with your friends and family provides some much needed distraction

Word count: 2.1k

You spent the rest of the week working late. Not out of necessity, but because you didn’t want to go home to Justin. But because of that, the dishes piled up… The laundry basket overflowed. And the bloody bathroom was in a state by Friday morning. You couldn’t take it anymore. You skipped your gym session and whizzed around the flat, not giving a damn if the clattering of plates or whirring of the hoover woke Justin up. And feeling even more irritated that it didn’t.

You slammed your apartment door shut when you left with a loud growl, then leaned back against it, sighing. You noticed Bucky in your peripheral, hovering outside his apartment.

“I’m fine,” you muttered preemptively, waving a hand dismissively as you dashed into the stairwell. You were determined not to have a conversation about that childish outburst with him. It wasn’t until halfway down the stairs that your brain clocked onto the fact he looked like he had a black eye. You paused. Should you go back and ask if he’s okay? But you’re already late. You’d underestimated how long it would take to clean the bathroom and didn’t want to stop midway through. But the man has a black eye. But you’re late. You groan and stomp the rest of the way down the stairs. You’ll ask when you next see him. It’s the only option.

You wondered about Bucky off and on all day at work. Did he get into a fight? Was he okay? What kind of people did he associate with that could cause him to get hurt like that? Was he in trouble? If he was, should you offer to help? Are you getting ahead of yourself simply because the man showed you kindness by letting you sleep on his couch?

When you returned to the building just before 10pm, Bucky was there again. 

“Another late one?” he asked as you walked into the lobby. Your gaze immediately honed in on his face. 

“Yeah…” you said vaguely, too preoccupied with the fact his black eye was almost… gone? Did black eyes heal that fast? “You look…” you began, unsure if you should say it. “You have a black eye?” you questioned.

Bucky shrugged, saying nothing. Your eyes remained locked with his, the two of you clearly not saying what you were thinking. Your brow furrowed. You wanted to ask more, but it would be too forward, right? It would be rude to ask ‘How did you heal your black eye’, right? And now you’ve been staring at one another for too long.

“Well, stay safe…” you said awkwardly, needing to break the tension. He nodded, then walked out the building. You whipped your phone out as you climbed the stairs, Googling black eyes. It made no sense… 2 to 3 weeks normally, it said. Weeks. You unlocked your door as your eyes remained glued to your phone screen.

“Hey babe,” Justin said from his usual spot on the sofa. You didn’t fully register his greeting. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Did you see our neighbour today?” you asked, not looking up from your phone.

“Which one?”

“Bucky.”

“Oh your crush? No.”

“He’s not my crush,” you retorted. “But fine,” you muttered, then sat down at the dining table.

“What’s for dinner?” Justin called from the living room. You didn’t answer, still too busy falling down your rabbit hole of black eye healing methods. “We could have a takeaway? It's super late and I’m starving,” he continued. “I’m so tired, work was stressful by the way.” You still didn’t reply, you knew you were being rude but you were still irritated at him. “And I put the washing on again, by the way.”

Your gaze snapped up, looking through the open doors to where he was lying on the sofa. “Did you even notice I tidied up the entire fucking flat for us?” you snapped.

“Jess, what the hell?” he said, sitting up to look at you. “No need to be so rude.” 

You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath. “Fine. I’m sorry. Well done for doing the laundry,” you said patronisingly. He rolled his eyes and flopped back to lie on the sofa. 

“I’m getting a takeaway,” he muttered.

You stayed in your designated rooms until the delivery arrived half an hour later, then he finally left the sofa to fetch it from the lobby. Once he was settled and eating in front of the TV, you begrudgingly sat on the sofa and asked him if you could have some food too. He agreed, passing you a chicken strip like some kind of peace offering. The more food you ate, the more laughter you shared watching Rick and Morty, the more the tension left. By the end of the night you were lying against his shoulder, sharing a packet of cookies. Dysfunctional, much?

“Have you ever had a black eye?” you asked him as the credits rolled on your fourth episode of the night.

“No? Why?”

You shrugged gently. “Just wondered. I saw Bucky had one this morning, but it was almost gone by the time I saw him again when I got back.”

“You saw him today twice?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah I can’t help that I keep bumping into him. But seriously, that’s not normal, right?”

“I have no idea, I’m not a doctor, Jess.” 

You sighed. “It’s just weird…”

“Why don’t you ask him if you two are so chummy?”

“Justin,” you warn.

“What?” he scoffed. “I’m just saying…”

“Saying what? Are you jealous? He lives in our building, if anything it’s odd you haven’t bumped into him ever.”

“Sure,” he said vaguely. You knew what that meant, and you didn’t have the energy to try and pull teeth anymore. You dropped the subject, and watched Rick and Morty until Justin was fast asleep on the sofa. You turned the TV off, draped a blanket over him, then tiptoed to the bedroom. 

While Justin slept like a baby, you slept restlessly, waking up almost every couple of hours. Stupid fried chicken. Your weekend was fully booked with plans with your friends and family, leaving Justin to his own devices for both days. The older you got, the harder it was becoming to spend time with them. Everyone was always either busy, or taking time to recharge in between their busy lives.

You were never any good at the latter. One of the first things your closest friend Anna said after greeting you was; “You look tired, Jess.”

“Thanks,” you replied sarcastically as you hung your coat on the back of your seat. The restaurant chosen by Liv, your oldest friend, was quite upmarket, but this was supposed to be a treat to yourselves. Anna had just been dumped again, and Liv had been promoted at work. But you? You didn’t really have a reason for a treat. “I may look tired but I don’t feel it,” you continued. Liv and Anna exchanged a look, and you frowned. “What?”

“Are you working too hard again?” Anna asked.

“No...”

“Mhmm. And until what time have you been staying in the office?”

“That’s not- okay this week I’ve been staying late, but not because I’m working too hard but because I didn’t wanna go home.”

Liv was about to reply when the waiter handed the three of you some menus, then politely left. 

“Are things still a bit… you know, with Justin?” she asked as she looked over the list of wines.

“Yeah no, everything’s, well the same.”

“You’re better off without the guy. Men are just dicks. All of them,” Anna said, putting her menu down already. You knew she would be bitter, having come out of her seventh failed relationship in as many years. 

“Well not all of them…” you said quietly.

“Okay not all, because the good ones have all been snapped up.”

“You’ll find someone eventually, Anna,” Liv said gently.

“When? It feels like I never will and I’ll just have to settle like Jess,” she said, gesturing towards you.

“I’m not settling,” you protested with a mildly offended chuckle.

“Really?” Anna deadpanned, the both of them looking at you unbelievingly. “Has Justin suddenly become prince charming? What’s he been doing lately? Has he started pulling his weight at home? Quit being a lazy git?”

“He put the laundry on a couple of times?” you offered pathetically, then snorted with amusement. “Yeah okay he’s still being a bit shit, isn’t he. Actually he’s being slightly weird about our new neighbour.”

“Who is she?” “Is she hot?” the two of them said at the same time, making you chuckle gently.

“No, not a she, a he.”

“Didn’t know he swung that way,” Liv joked.

You smiled even more. “He doesn’t. It’s this new American guy. Really hot.”

“The guy you texted me about a few weeks ago?” Anna asked. You nodded. “Good he’s jealous. Shows he cares.”

“No, not good, it shows he doesn’t trust you,” Liv said.

“Either way, it’s still irritating.”

The waiter came over and took your order. It was a bit early in the day for you to start drinking, you were there for lunch, but Liv ordered a bottle of wine for the table. You shrugged, and went along with it. You noticed Anna watched the waiter walk away before turning back to the table animatedly.

“She stayed the night in the neighbours apartment, you know,” Anna said to Liv.

“Why?” 

“I forgot my keys and Justin’s phone had died and he didn’t hear me knocking,” you admit, embarrassed. 

“Jess, come on. He didn’t even care to stay awake until you got home? What time was this at?”

“After midnight…”

“Why were you out so late?”

You sighed. “Because I was working late…”

The two shook their heads. “You’ve got to sort out your priorities, Jess.”

“Okay enough about me. Either Liv, tell us about your promotion. Or Anna, what the fuck happened with Daniel?”

“The floor’s yours, Anna,” Liv offered. She took a deep breath before launching into a long rant about her ex.

The rest of the dinner continued with little focus on you, thankfully. The food was delicious, the wine was refreshing, and you ended your long lunch feeling tired but overall good. Your friends got a couple of warning comments in about Justin when you bade each other goodbye, but you knew they were just looking out for you. For the most part you had a spring in your tipsy step as you made your way to your next social event; a theatre trip with some of your extended family. 

Justin was invited, but had declined the invitation. Despite you asking nicely, despite you trying to guilt trip him that he should go as he’s your boyfriend who you now live with. He said he didn’t want to spend 3 hours watching a bunch of 18th century revolutionary French people sing non stop. You officially gave up trying to get him to agree after he reacted so badly to the price of the ticket.

You walked into the foyer of the theatre and found your family at the bar.

“Jess! You made it!” your aunt said enthusiastically. You resisted commenting sarcastically of course you would have made it. 

“Hey, Aunty Sandy,” you replied as she pulled you into a hug. Everyone else called her Sandra, but the nickname you had given her as a child had always stuck. “You alright?” you asked, slipping into the usual small talk. You greeted the rest of your extended family, exchanging polite pleasantries before progressing into light hearted banter. You always liked seeing this part of your family, it partly made up for having no siblings. It was just a shame Justin usually skipped out half the time…

You had another glass of wine, courtesy of one of your cousins, then took your seat. You texted Justin to let him know you were at the theatre, on the off chance he wondered if you were okay. A short while later, just before the lights went dark, you checked your phone one last time before putting it on flight mode. A text had arrived from Justin.

“Bucky seems nice.”

The lights went dark. Your phone illuminated your face. For fucks sake. 

You wanted to reply, you needed to know what he meant. If he was being sarcastic  or genuine. But the blaring brass sounds of the opening number played and your aunt shot you a warning look. You sighed deeply and put the device away. Damn you, Justin.

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

New chapter just posted on AO3 of A Knight to Remember!

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 4

Summary: You get stuck outside your flat and an unlikely person provides shelter.

Word count: 1.9k

You started your week working late again, never good for a Monday. You’d spent three hours texting your boyfriend, trying to help him with yet another problem at his job. You didn’t get to your own work until well into the afternoon. You were lucky your employer was flexible, as long as you got the job done, no one cared how late you stayed. And apparently neither did Justin. You’d texted him hours earlier and told him to eat dinner without you. But apart from an emoji of pizza and a chicken, he hadn’t said anything since, despite the late hour. The tension from the previous week had long been brushed under the carpet - a fun day out at Thorpe Park would do that. You made sure he wore sun cream, and he screamed like a little bitch on the Saw ride. You smiled as you packed up your things, that was a good day out.

You finally clocked out of your job almost 12 hours after you arrived, the office was spookily dark now, the only staff member left was the lone security guard. You were dead on your feet, desperate to get home and relax before you started to get really tired. At least the commute home would be less stressful by now.

Except midway through, there was a signalling error. Again. You groaned as you sat on the deserted train, you really didn’t want to deal with this right now. It wasn’t that far walking from this stop you supposed. It would be cheaper than getting a cab for just a five minute drive. You debated with yourself for ten minutes before sucking it up and exiting the station. 

The next twenty minutes walking in the cold night air wasn’t pleasant. You tensed each time you walked past men, especially ones who were alone. Your eyes darted around the place checking for threats. And your nose began to run, and you didn’t have a bloody tissue.

The warmth of the apartment building was a welcome relief, both for its temperature and safety. You dragged your feet up the stairs, longing to finally go to bed. Your freezing hands fumbled around in your pockets for your key. But with a sick realistation, you couldn’t find it. You wracked your brain, struggling to recall where the hell you’d have put them. You had assumed they were in your pocket, where you usually left them. Then it hit you.

“Fuck’s sake,” you murmured, pinching the bridge of your nose. You put them on your desk .

You got out your phone and texted Justin. Why the man removed his ‘last active’ status, you’ll never know. You stared at the screen, waiting. When he didn't reply immediately, you called. It went straight to voicemail.

You cursed under your breath, and knocked on your door. Three gentle raps at first. 

Nothing. 

You sighed in frustration and tried again, a little louder this time. 

Still nothing. 

The third time you knocked as though you were a rude delivery guy, praying nobody else in the building heard. You waited, ear pressed against the door, and heard, guess what?

Nothing.

Finally you hit the door with one loud thump then slumped against it.  A few moments later, a different door creaked open from across the hall. You glanced up towards the noise. In the opening stood your neighbour, looking tall, dark and handsome as always.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked, his voice hoarse. You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I left my keys back at the office, and my boyfriend can’t seem to hear me knocking,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I see.”

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” you said apologetically.

“I was still awake, doll,” Bucky said softly. 

“Oh,” you murmured. You were a little surprised at the pet name, it wasn’t common in the UK, but with his accent it sounded… nice. 

A brief moment of silence passed as Bucky regarded you, his lips pursing. 

“You planning on standing there the rest of the night?”

“Got nowhere else to go, so…” you trailed off and let your eyes wander to the wall adjacent to him, even more embarrassed. You could have just gone back to the office to get your keys, though by the time you’d return, it would be well after 2 am. You could just keep banging on the door and waiting for Justin to emerge from his deep slumber. You could pick the-

“Do you wanna come inside?” Bucky offered, tearing you from your thoughts and taking you by surprise.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose,” you said, shaking your head.

“I can’t let you sit out here for the next 8 hours,” he replied matter-of-fact.

You were surprised once again by his chivalry, and looked at him mildly perplexed before nodding. “Okay, thank you,” you said with a small but genuine smile. Bucky nodded once, then stalked back into his apartment with you following behind.

You had assumed his place would look similar to your own, in basic layout at least, and you were proven right. But you weren’t expecting it to look quite so… bare. So un-lived in. He’d been here what, six weeks now? Seven?

"You’re out pretty late for a work night," he commented as you glanced around.

"Am I?" you replied absentmindedly. You hovered near the sofa, searching for any hint of Bucky’s personality in the living room.

"You’re normally home by nine,” he continued. That comment got your attention.

"You keeping tabs on me?" you teased with a small smirk, looking at him directly now. He stood across from you, leaning against his dining table, his hands in his pockets.

"I hear you,” he replied bluntly.

"Oh… Well I had some stuff to do and got behind on my work, so, had to stay late. Then the trains were fucked so I kind of like, walked some of it back," you shrugged. Bucky’s eyes widened as you finished your sentence.

"Couldn’t your boyfriend have got you? He has a car, right?" he said with disdain.

"No… I mean yeah, he has a car but no, I couldn’t ask him."

"Why not?" 

"It's complicated,” you said with another shrug. “Anyway I’m sorry, I'm keeping you up.”

"I'm not tired."

“Do you normally stay up past midnight?” 

Bucky didn’t answer, the simple question left hanging in the air. He may not be tired, but you were, and as if on queue you yawned. 

"Take the bed," he instructed, pushing off from the dining table.

You shook your head “No, I couldn’t."

"I'm not having you sleep on the couch."

"No seriously, you've already let me into your home, I'm not taking your bed too.”

"No-"

"If you want me in here I'm taking the couch," you said firmly, cutting him off. It had the desired effect, Bucky raised his hands in defeat.

"Alright, fine. Let me know if you need anything."

You sighed and nodded, watching as he walked off into presumably his bedroom before finally sitting on the sofa. You typed out a long, angry text to your boyfriend. Telling him where you were, exactly why you were having to stay in your neighbours flat. Because he couldn’t bloody wake up to let you in and he let his bloody phone die and now you're having to bloody spend the night in the flat of the neighbour you barely know! You hit send. Then sent a bunch of angry emojis before slouching back on the sofa and glancing around the room once more.

You huffed, then sat upright to take your shoes off before standing, unable to resist the urge to snoop. No photographs, no nick nacks. Did Bucky even live here? It was worse than an IKEA showroom, at least they had fake photographs and fake clutter. A floorboard creaked loudly beneath your foot and you froze. You waited a moment, listening for any sounds of Bucky, then creeped back to the sofa to settle in for the night. You felt too awkward to ask for a blanket from the man, let alone even use his bathroom.

You sighed, and stared at the ceiling, silently seething at the whole situation yet feeling incredibly grateful for Bucky’s kindness. You weren’t sure how you were going to repay him, you hardly knew him, but you had to do something in the future. You wondered what sort of things the man liked, aside from apparently jogging and trips to the convenience store. 

You could get him a new water bottle? No, that would be a lame gift.

You could get him a gift card for Adidas? That might seem weird…

You could buy him some damn plants to make his place more homely? But he might be rubbish at looking after them and they could die.

A bottle of beer? Too basic.

A bottle of wine? Too risky.

A bottle of whisky? Too presumptuous. 

You groaned quietly. Why did you have to overthink so bloody much. You closed your eyes, hoping the answer would come to you in your sleep.

It felt like no time had passed when you woke up to your blaring alarm. Usually you wake to the sound of snoring, so the silence was disconcerting. As were the completely different surroundings, until you remembered you’re in Bucky’s flat. You sat up, careful not to rub your face and ruin yesterday’s makeup. 

“Morning,” Bucky said in the quiet, making you jump.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?" 

“Morning,” you mumbled, then awkwardly stood up from the sofa as you cleared your throat. You noticed his eyes give you a once over, and hoped your hair wasn’t too much of a mess. Then you wondered how long he'd been lurking there.

"Sleep okay?"

"Y-yeah, thank you," you replied. Bucky's eyes dropped to the sofa where you just were, and you worried if you looked weird for not asking for a blanket. 

"Did you? Sleep okay?" you asked before your previous thought could spiral. He nodded.

"No I umm, I need to go get ready for work… Thanks for letting me use your couch, again, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You hovered, unsure what you’re supposed to do, if anything. You then nodded, and walked to his front door. You tried to open it but it was locked. Of course it’s locked, it’s his bloody apartment.

God why were you so awkward sometimes.

Bucky walked over, removing a set of keys from his pocket. You took a small step back, the close proximity making you feel unusually flustered. His cologne wafted into your nostrils, and you cursed the fact your boyfriend struggled to even remember to wear deodorant half the time. Bucky unlocked the door, and you quickly stepped out.

“Thanks, again,” you said quietly as you walked down the corridor. You waited until he shut his door before letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

You gave Justin an earful once the banging on the door woke him up. His sleep was apparently less deep now it was the morning. You hated how the man could literally sleep for 16 hours straight if he didn’t have you to wake him up. He found it funny you had to stop over at Bucky’s, which only made you more mad. How was it possibly funny. How did he fall asleep not even knowing when you would be coming home from work! He didn't see the big deal.

You didn’t spend a second longer than needed in the flat before leaving for work in a huff.

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 3

Summary: Arguments with your boyfriend leave you irritated.

Word count: 1.4k

Your feet were soaking wet by the time you walked into the apartment building. It was supposed to be a sunny day. It was supposed to be a nice day. But you had to go and have a huge fight with your boyfriend, didn’t you.

You stood in the lobby, raindrops dripping from your hair down your back, onto the floor. Your jacket only protected your torso, so your legs were soaking wet too. 

You wrung your hair out and flicked the residue water onto the floor, not caring about the mess. Floor needed to be cleaned anyway. 

The sound of rain hammering even harder on the glass got your attention and you turned to watch, thankful you made it back before it got this bad. Though you wouldn’t have had to walk at all if your boyfriend hadn't driven off without you in a hissy fit.

The rain was so loud you didn’t hear the footsteps down the stairs, didn’t notice the figure until he was standing adjacent to you.

“Got caught in the rain?” Bucky asked. You glanced up, noting the plain black cap he was wearing today. 

“Uh, yeah. Wasn’t supposed to rain today.”

He nodded, his eyes roving down your body briefly. You knew full well you looked like a drowned rat right now.

“You going out in it?”

He nodded again, then opened the door, the roar of the wind even louder now.

“Your boyfriend’s back, by the way,” he said as he walked out into the downpour.

That caught you off guard. How did he even know that… What was Justin doing in there that was that loud?

You sighed, then climbed the stairs. It had been a month since the lift broke, and still no one had fixed it. You unlocked the door to an eerily silent flat. You kicked off your wet shoes and hung your jacket over the radiator, then walked into the living room. The car keys on the coffee table and leather jacket on the sofa show Justin was indeed home.

You peaked your head into the bedroom, finding him asleep. You pursed your lips, then walked back into the living room and sat on the sofa. No point waking him up and adding additional tension.

Lying in bed later that night, you ruminated on the events of the day.

When you cooked dinner, he acted as if he hadn’t driven off without you earlier that day. 

Correction, you both acted as though it hadn’t happened.

But it did. He had driven off without you, leaving you to walk for two miles back to the apartment. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t far, but it was the principle. You only went to that bloody park with him in the car because he wanted to carry so much damn food for your picnic. 

You could have gotten an Uber. You should have confronted Justin about his actions. And he shouldn’t have driven off without you like that.

But neither of you mentioned it. Not until three days later, over dinner.

“You fancy going to Thorpe Park this weekend?” he asked as he passed you the bowl of salad you’d prepared, though he’d never touch. 

“Yeah? Okay!” you smiled. “Been a while since we’ve been there.”

“If I remember correctly, last time someone got a bit too scared on Saw,” he teased.

“I forgot about the drop!” you chuckled. “At least I’m not afraid of heights.”

“At least I’m not afraid of the dark,” he retorted.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least I remember to wear sun cream so my skin doesn’t peel off midway through the day in front of all the other guests.”

“Careful, missy,” he joked. “Or I’ll leave you behind in The Walking Dead ride. All alone, in the dark, with the zombies.”

“Uh huh. Sure you would,” you said sarcastically, grinning. “Just don’t drive off without me again, yeah?” you said playfully. His answering glare was anything but playful, and your smile immediately dropped. “It wasn’t very nice… the other day...”

“I know,” he said shortly, picking at his food now rather than eating it. The sudden shift in mood was jarring, to say the least.

“Just…” you trailed off. You hated these confrontations, especially during dinner.

“Just what, Jess?” he asked, putting his cutlery down sharply. 

“Why did you do it?”

That question started an argument that lasted over an hour. You tried to keep your voice down, but Justin did not. You tried to keep your tears at bay, but they spilled down your cheeks anyway. You tried to keep your panic attack from happening, but in the bathroom later that night you were standing clutching the sink silently hyperventilating as Justin hogged the living room to game, wanting ‘space’.

Yet, by 3 am, when you were lying in bed, dried tear stains on your cheeks and a pile of tissues on the floor, he still kissed your shoulder goodnight. He still wrapped his arms around you and cuddled you before drifting off to sleep. And for some reason, that seemed to make things alright… almost.

When you went to the gym that morning, sleep deprived and puffy eyed, you didn’t immediately notice Bucky also in the room. Not until you’d warmed up on the stair machine and stepped off, did you spot him.

“Oh,” you blurted out, pulling a headphone off your ear. You were unable to help yourself from checking him out, his workout clothes a lot tighter than what you’d previously seen him in. Though the pair of gloves was an interesting choice of attire. Maybe the guy was a germophobe, or had eczema. “Hi,” you murmured.

“Hi,” he replied, his expression unreadable. You weren’t in the mood to talk, so you gave a little smile, put your headphones back on, and carried on with your workout. Though with someone as attractive as Bucky in the room, it proved difficult. You were hyper aware of your proximity to him at every machine you used. Self conscious of any sounds of exertion that escaped your lips. And mildly embarrassed by the sweat trickling down your back during an intense session. Your workout ended up taking longer than usual. You flashed him another quick smile when you left the room, and ran back up the stairs to the apartment to find unexpectedly an awake Justin.

“Morning?” you said, a little confused.

“You were at the gym for a while,” he commented as he munched on a slice of toast.

“And you’re up early,” you replied whilst stripping out of your gym clothes to rush into the shower.

“Thought I’d catch you before you left for work,” he said, following you into the bathroom.

“Oh. Well, I’m running late.”

“What took so long?”

“I���m not sure, just got distracted,” you replied as you quickly scrubbed the sweat from your body. You noticed Justin’s gaze not quite at your eye level, then rolled your eyes and pulled the shower curtain across.

“I was enjoying that,” you could hear the grin in his voice.

“What did you want to catch me for exactly?”

“Things have felt weird since the other night…” he said, sounding uncharacteristically sombre. You wished he hadn’t picked now of all times for this conversation.

“They have,” you murmured, rinsing the soap suds from your body. 

“And I wanted to apologise.”

You pulled the shower curtain back and grabbed a towel to dry yourself off.

“Apology accepted,” you said. You didn’t have time right now.

“That’s it?” he asked, confused. You slipped past him towards the bedroom.

“Yeah, for now,” you replied as you grabbed your outfit for work and began to get dressed.

“What do you mean ‘for now’? I’m trying to talk to you, Jess.”

“And I’m late for work, Justin!”

He scoffed. “I’m trying to make it up to you, trying to communicate with you. I even put the laundry on for you!” he said defensively. You looked at him incredulously. Was he seriously asking for praise for doing a chore once in a blue moon, that benefited the both of you?

“I put the laundry on every fucking day, Justin," you snapped, furiously doing up the buttons on your blouse now.

“I’m trying to be nice, Jess.”

“I don’t have time! Please can you just let me get ready for work, I’m already late.”

“Shouldn’t have spent so long in the bloody gym then,” he muttered as he stalked out of the bedroom.

You didn’t kiss him goodbye that morning.

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 2

Summary: Continued bump ins leave you feeling a little awkward! But you finally learn his name.

Word count: 1.2k

It was three days later when you saw him again. After a long week at work, you stopped by the local corner shop desperate for a sugar fix. You both loved and hated your job. The amazing people there kept you tethered to the company, but you hated the pressure of your role. As part of the projects team, you inevitably were a decision maker. Over time, the pressures of making choices day after day then coming home to mother your boyfriend were getting to you. And no matter how healthy you tried to be, after a week of shit from work and him, you needed some comfort food.

You waited in line, not paying attention to the dark haired stranger two people ahead in front of the cashier. When he turned to leave, you awkwardly made eye contact and realised who it was. For a split second you wondered if you should smile, but his sullen demeanour made you avert your gaze. Though not before noticing his eyes flit down at the pile of junk food in your hands. You clutched the items tighter to your chest as he walked past, trying to ignore your embarrassment.

Ten minutes later, you dumped the bag of goodies onto your dining table.

“Babe, I'm home!” you called out into the apartment. Your boyfriend emerged from the bedroom as you emptied the contents of the bag onto the table. 

“What have you got here, little miss?” he asked playfully as he wrapped an arm around your waist from behind.

“Your favourites,” you replied, an impish smirk spreading across your face. Without fail, buying him food would always earn you brownie points. 

“Was work okay?” he asked, planting a kiss on your temple before he walked around to inspect the items. 

You shrugged. “Yeah, it was fine,” you replied, the white lie barely tasting bitter on your lips anymore. “You?”

“Stressful as ever,” he murmured. “Ooooh you got me the gummy bears!”

You smiled gently, “Yep, I got you the gummy bears." You mentally settled in for another evening of meaningless talk. The two of you ended up watching TV late into the night. Justin, the takeaway addict, ordered pizza and chicken wings. Despite tasting delicious, you knew it was a mistake when you struggled to fall asleep that night.

The next morning you woke early, still feeling gross from the previous night's fast food. Your boyfriend was sound asleep, but after waking up too much from going to the bathroom, there was no way you’d be able to get back to sleep now. So you decided to start your day and go for a jog, determined to burn off the extra calories. 

The air was fresh and crisp as you stood outside the apartment building doing some last minute stretches before your run. You were bent down touching your toes when, between your legs, you saw an upside down figure walking out the door. You quickly stood upright, hyper aware of the pose you were just in, and tried to nonchalantly stretch a different limb. You snuck a glance of the male- him again.

You internally groaned, wondering how you managed to keep bumping into him. You continued to stretch for far longer than necessary, until he had walked down the road and out of sight.

Over the next two weeks, it almost became a habit. You began to worry the guy would think you were stalking him. You saw him in the corner shop again one Wednesday night; he walked in, his hair dishevelled from the rain, whilst you left with an impulsively bought tub of ice cream. You offered him a little smile which he didn’t return. Two days later he was in the complex’s lobby, a waft of his cologne hitting your nostrils a moment after he walked past. This time, he made eye contact at least, but neither of you smiled. At the weekend, you ended up crossing his path twice on your jog in the local park. You went home without reaching your desired goal, not wanting to risk seeing him a third time. When you saw him in the mailroom a few days later, the awkward silence was almost too much to bear.

You made eye contact with him, and smiled. You weren’t sure what to expect, but he held your gaze, and gave a small smile back.

“Hi,” you said tentatively.

“Hi,” he replied, before another uncomfortable silence.

“Are you… settling into the building okay?” you asked, gesturing absentmindedly around the room.

“It’s okay,” he shrugged.

“Well if there’s anything I can help with let me know.”

“Why would I need help?” he said, turning to face you more fully as he narrowed his eyes slightly. 

“Well your accent. You’re not from, um…” you cleared your throat uncomfortably. “The offer’s there, anyway.”

The man nodded, and you thought the conversation had ended, but he didn’t make any moves to leave. He just stared at you. His blue eyes were starting to make you feel uncomfortable before he finally looked down at the pile of letters in your hand.

"Gonna assume your name's not Justin?"

It took you a moment to realize how the hell he knew your boyfriend's name, AND that he was asking for your name. "Oh! No! No, it's Jess."

"Mine's Bucky."

"Short for Buckbeak?" you quipped, finding yourself mildly amusing. He gave you a puzzled look. "Harry Potter?"

"Never seen it. Short for Buchanan."

"Oh. That's not a first name?”

"No. It's not.” 

You looked at him, naturally expecting him to elaborate on what his first name was, but it didn't come. "Well… nice to officially meet you. Now I can stop thinking of you as ‘guy who lives down the hall’." Who I keep bumping into and promise I’m not doing it deliberately, you add internally.

He smiled tightly but remained hovering in the room. You weren’t sure what he was waiting for, but took it as your cue to leave.

“Well I will see you around, Bucky.”

"You too," he replied. 

You ended up spending the next half an hour worrying if he thought your comment alluded to the fact you kept bumping into him. And if he therefore thought you were stalking him. You were practically planning out ways to avoid the man by the time your boyfriend got home later that night.

“I officially met our neighbour,” you mentioned over dinner. 

“Which one?”

“The new guy down the hall. His name��s Bucky.”

“Like Buckbeak?” Justin asked. You smirked.

“That’s what I asked, but no. Just a nickname.”

“What’s he like?”

“American. Kinda stoic. Really blue eyes…”

“Really blue eyes, hmm?” he asked. You noticed the jealous glint in his eyes, and rolled your own.

“Relax, babe,” you gently chided. Though secretly, you kind of enjoyed it.

You only felt slightly bad about those eyes and the smell of his cologne being on your mind for the rest of the evening.

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

The Neighbour Down The Hall

Summary: Your mysterious neighbour down the hall helps you in more ways than one

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 1

Summary: Your first meeting with your new (ish) neighbour

Word count: 1k

You expected there to be some teething problems when you moved in with your boyfriend of 2 years. A few arguments here and there. Clashes about what to watch on TV, what to have for dinner. What you didn’t expect was the amount of tears you would shed, nor the almost break ups. And you definitely didn’t expect to become responsible for the amount of chores you found yourself doing on a daily basis. You always cleaned up after him, did his laundry, his dishes, made sure he remembered to pay bills on time. For six months this had been going on, and the resentment was quickly building up inside. You sometimes felt more like his mother than his girlfriend, not that he seemed to notice.

Today’s issue was the new gaming chair he’d ordered, which he was conveniently out for its delivery. You walked into your apartment complex to find the box dumped in the lobby. 

“It’s literally just a lift ride away… lazy arsehole,” you muttered as you dragged the box towards the lift. You pressed the button and waited, tapping your fingers on the box. A long minute later, there was still no lift in sight. You pressed it again, and again, but the button didn't even light up. 

You tutted. “Typical” you muttered. So that’s why the delivery guy dumped it there. You groaned in frustration, mentally preparing yourself to haul the thing up to your floor. For the first couple of flights of stairs you tried to push it up from the bottom, ‘proper lifting’ be damned. But your legs began to burn, especially after your leg workout that morning, so you changed tactics for the last flight. You grabbed the sides of the box and decided to pull, one step at a time. You almost made it to the top when you spotted a tall figure behind you, startling you. The box slipped from your grasp and toppled forward.

“Shit!” you hissed. You watched on with horror, muscles tensed as you braced for the impact. The box crashed down the stairs, the sound echoing in the stairwell until it fell to the bottom with a loud thump. You took a deep breath to calm yourself. This is fine. You can just drag it back up again. It’s only one flight. You opened your eyes and saw the man silently walking past. You recognised him now; he moved in a couple of weeks ago.

“Lemme get that for you,” he grumbled. He's American? You opened your mouth to protest but promptly shut it. He did look much stronger than you, a little intimidating actually. The dark haired man picked up the box as if it weighed nothing, and carried it up to your floor. You muttered an awkward thanks as he walked past. He kicked open the door to the corridor then placed the package outside your flat before he turned to leave, back down the stairs. You cleared your throat before saying a louder thank you towards his back.

“Don’t mention it,” he called back, not even turning to look at you as the door to the stairway closed behind him.

You unlocked your door and dragged the stupid box inside, leaving it unceremoniously in the middle of the room for your boyfriend to deal with later. You kicked your shoes off then sat down on the sofa to relax until he got home. He found it funny you dropped the thing in front of your new neighbour. Took the piss out of you repeatedly as you cooked dinner, playfully warning you not to drop anything else. So out of spite, you refused to help him with the chair later that evening. That was until you realised you wouldn’t get any sleep until it was done and he was getting so pissed off trying to assemble the thing, he was keeping you up. 

The next day you headed out early for your morning gym routine. You loathed early starts, waking up with the sun, but it was the only time of the day you had to yourself. Between work, your partner, your friends, and family, it felt like life was slipping by. Like you were merely a passenger, existing for others. But the morning hours were your hours. You were still half asleep when you pushed the button for the lift and waited for a really long time.

“I don’t think it’s working,” a male voice said. You turned to see your neighbour standing in his doorway and it dawned on you. God you’re an idiot.

“Oh yeah, I remember,” you muttered, embarrassed. He nodded, then stepped back into his apartment, closing the door gently. You hoped he didn’t go back inside to avoid walking down the stairs with you…

That thought was on your mind during your whole gym session. One of the perks of the apartment complex was the in house gym. It may be on the smaller side, but it made it much easier to fit in a gym session 5 days a week. You smashed through your arm workout and spent an extra 10 minutes on the rowing machine. The sweat was dripping from you when you left and decided to jog back up three flights of stairs for extra cardio.

You pushed open the door to your floor, but suddenly the resistance disappeared. You couldn't pull back from the momentum, and you fell forward straight into the chest of a man. You looked up. Not him again. 

You suddenly felt very self conscious, his hands were touching your bare sweaty arms as he set you upright.

"Sorry I didn't, umm-" you stuttered, stepping back from him as he dropped his hands to his sides. Bloody hell his eyes were blue.

"It's fine," he murmured as he stalked past you.

Those blue eyes and a sense of embarrassment from him touching you was on your mind as you got ready for the day. Your boyfriend still wasn't awake by the time you were ready to go. You gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, then left. As you commuted to work, you wondered what your neighbour might be up to.

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Masterlist

Moon Knight

A Knight to Remember | AO3 | Reader is getting over an emotionally abusive relationship, in the aftermath she meets the Moon Boys who begin to care for her more than either of them ever thought they would. But when a secret cult and a crazy ex threaten to pull them apart, will their blossoming relationship survive the strain?

Marvel

Across The Pond | AO3 | Jennifer Taylor is the newest recruit to Avengers Tower, but her problems across the pond back in the UK find a way of catching up to her one way or another.

The Neighbour Down The Hall | AO3 | Your mysterious neighbour down the hall helps you in more ways than one