Hi guys!!. I'm back, not by popular demand hehe. Well, at least I'm not showing up empty-handed. Hope you enjoy it and if you did please let me know. Yes, it gives me motivation.
This is my participation on my friend’s @lullabieswrappedinlies Rom-Com writing challenge (go check her out, she is so damn creative and amazing). This story is based on the movie Notting Hill and will be added to my MASTERLIST.
"You don't want to talk about it?"
The 'narrow eye move' does not affect people such as Alexis, who remains leaned on the counter, gazing at you from above for the past ten minutes.
She huffed low and kept going. "It's okay if you want to talk about it."
"Alexis... I just want to take care of my store. I want to sit here till it's time to receive Agnes and five more women who will try to make me do coffee runs for them and then, hopefully, or not, I will sell a book or two before Kirk comes in to try to steal something, then I want to close, go home, lay down on my bed and think about the fact that I might go broke somewhere in the next three months."
"Kirk is at it again? Shit, I thought he fled after trying to steal from the stalls."
"He let the beard and hair grow a lot, lost weight, most people still don't know is him, yet, but I'm on it."
Her eyebrows raised and rested.
"Well, if you can prepare for the thieves you can definitely prepare for when-."
You take a long audible breath, rearranging the bills scattered, which made Alexis retrieve for a moment.
"He is not coming. He can be an asshole, but he is not as audacious as Kyle."
There was a hint of confidence flourishing inside your chest, although Alexis's persistence kept accelerating.
"He is famous, that makes you gain some audacity, thinking that it will allure people into doing what you want. I'm just saying, I'm here for you."
"Well, thanks. Did you talked to Kyle yet?"
"Fuck no! He can rot in hell for all I care about. That night was a disaster! The son of a bitch suddenly showing up."
You watch her squeeze her left thumb inside the other palm, harshly, before you shove the pile of bills under the glittery paperweight.
"Did he suddenly realized he wanted to be a father after ten years?"
She lets out a bitter chuckle.
"Appear at my front door with the most ridiculous, bushy mustache, like he just came out of a seventies porno." She huffs aggressively, archiving the blended expression of disgusted and angry.
"I couldn't even recognize him."
"Well, it's been years." You reminisce. " Did you really thought you could avoid it? At some point-."
An, almost discreet, movement next to the shelves interrupts the conversation.
The tired creak of the wooden floor exposed Nova, purposely or not. Judging by the posture shown seemed calculated. She had both hands inside the red apron, combined with a hint of annoyance spread on her features, very clearly portraited.
Alexis is dynamic, remaining natural regarding what her daughter could have listened to.
"Hey baby, are you ready to go?"
Nova sighs and her shoulders go down.
"No mom, I just arrived. What are you doing here?"
"I work next door, Nova."
"Still."
"Well, actually I wanted to take you all to eat something."
Cold lie, easy to spot, mainly because it was a fact that your sister hates to eat out, and that was why your niece's gaze, filled with doubt, was shot in your direction.
It didn't take a lifetime to recognize the type of moves, of which, Alexis would appeal for damage control. She needed to reassure her daughter, keep her on her side.
"She should have told him to go back the same path he came, but no, she just let him in." It was the following thing Nova said to you after arriving from school today, dropping her pink backpack into the ground behind the counter, followed by "I feel like she will accept him back at some point."
There was no remark on exactly when the pendulum of your niece's feelings towards Kyle became so stuck on the pure hatred side, although expected to happen at some point.
The complicated questions completely stopped at the thirteen. Alexis couldn't decide between relief or disbelief till browsing the history bar on the laptop while innocently- as she said- tried to find the recipe for cannolis and instead found Kyle's Facebook page, where he was incredibly active. There were photos, places, friends, trips, a lot of women, one of them Carly Raymond, his highschool sweetheart, who still had a perm.
There was nothing else for Nova to be curious about, and it is not your niece's fault technology was way easier to navigate for information than your sister was.
Alexis reacted cold, in the way you wouldn't expect, not actually trying to salvage the situation because a part of her would never forgive Kyle, the same part that wished Nova did the same.
"Was I supposed to lie to her? Make it worse, make her doubt me too? What he did is hateful, can I blame her? I was the one who always told me he would break her heart no matter what. He didn't even have to come here to do it, and do you think he is ashamed of all that crap online? Traveling, living his life around the world but not being able to come to see her, choosing this 'lifestyle' over here?"
"I know a good, quiet place, that opened down the street."
You ignited, but Nova kept the skeptical stare.
"Sounds great, come on Nov, get this apron off."
"Ok. We will have to talk at some point anyway."
You watch Nova give up, untying the apron behind her back, approaching the counter in slow steps, and leaving it there.
"That's my girl."
"Wait, I have to take something first."
Alexis watches her search inside her backpack as you got up from the chair, taking your sky blue Weichen wristband.
'Closed for lunch' in pink Sans Serif font as Nova made, was hanged on the inside of the glass door before you locked.
"Sorry for the inconvenience", advised to be added on by your niece was revoked by you since no one, not even Agnes would have felt inconvenienced by the closing. You still had the, sometimes, foolish hope of the weekends, when the streets would be fuller than now.
Leading the pace you could only hear Alexis's voice behind your back before you could spot the large Navy blue plaque of Ledbury restaurant and its crowded sidewalk, right next to Walmer Castle pub.
"Guys" You called. "There it is." You pointed front, towards the other side of the street, stopping on the sidewalk as the cars accelerated on the green light.
Turning around you capture your niece's smile as your sister whispered something in her ear. On Nova's hand, there was the same Smithsonian Magazine from this morning.
You forgot to tell Alexis about the way she sounded, reading on the drive to school an extended report about how brains are wired to capture and respond to emotions.
She held the magazine, folded in one hand while eating a Dairy Milk with the other, and in a very 'Alexis' tone discoursed: "Basically is just our brain responding to our way of thinking, even when we anticipate something in our minds. We don't even have to see it."
Your sister still whispered something towards Nova's ear, but the smile placed there died down as she looked, eyes wide, ping-ponging between you and something else that appeared to be amidst the crowd, standing on the other side. She pokes Alexis's arm with emergency.
Spreading as easy as the people starting to move again around you, the same tension, mirrored on their faces, irradiated on the pitch of your stomach right when sister's eyes went cold.
"Excuse-me." You hear, close to your right ear, remaining standing still.
"Oh, my God!" Another voice, a woman's voice as you can now notice as Alexis leaves Nova's side to grab your arm.
The woman's voice sounded alarmed and so does the beats of your heart as more people start murmuring.
"I can't believe it is him."
"Oh! Lord, it is Mike Levine."
Cars started to honk as the crossing street became fuller, and the crowd starting to form began to work as a magnet of more curiosity and obstacles, but Alexis's arm stood strong over your shoulders, navigating and crossing you to the other side.
You wished her arms were stronger than the temptation you blamed for making your back swerve.
There was a moment of not knowing what to expect till you came to realize expectations grew in a matter of seconds. There must be was a reason to want to look back at Mike Levine, surrounded by strangers all over, ungratefully creating an illusion of a time that didn't seem to pass.
He was still the same as you came to see once or twice in a free subscription magazine, but he wasn't plastic anymore.
After leaving town in 2001, Marianne Grace Barnes swore she’d never step foot in Texas again. She was happy with her life in San Francisco. She had great friends, a great job, and a loving boyfriend. But when her mother insists she come home after six long years away, Marianne comes face to face with someone she vowed to never lay eyes on again. Now the questions arise: Is he so different from the man who broke her heart? Is she so different from the girl she used to be?
And most importantly, is she as happy as she really thinks she is?
A story of love, heartache, and that special feeling of being home.
My Entry for @arrowsandmixtapes ‘s RomCom Writing Challenge! So sorry for the late entry, Covid has been a whirlwind of a time.
Where the Green Grass Grows - Part 1. A Real Fine Place to Start
@imanuglywombat credit for the moodboard/art!
Summary: After leaving town in 2001, Marianne Grace Barnes swore she’d never step foot in Texas again. She was happy with her life in San Francisco. She had great friends, a great job, and a loving boyfriend. But when her mother insists she come home after six long years away, Marianne comes face to face with someone she vowed to never lay eyes on again. Now the questions arise: Is he so different from the man who broke her heart? Is she so different from the girl she used to be?
And most importantly, is she as happy as she really thinks she is?
A story of love, heartache, and that special feeling of being home.
MASTERLIST
Pairing: AU Cowboy!Steve Rogers x OFC
Warnings: Swearing
Author’s note: This is my entry for @arrowsandmixtapes ‘s RomCom Writing Challenge! So sorry for the late entry, Covid has been a whirlwind of a time.
Prompt: Sweet Home Alabama (2002)
***
The streets of San Francisco were their normal, misty grey as Marianne Barnes rushed down the sidewalk. Scrubbing at the technicolor specks of paint that covered her arms, she wondered why that day of all days she had decided to introduce the splatter paint portion of her student’s curriculum. The current semester was focused on abstract and modern art. Slowly she’d been introducing them to all of the history and techniques behind the different styles before allowing them to try it out for themselves. While initially it seemed like a fantastic idea, she soon realized that allowing a group of middle schoolers the freedom to literally throw paint was a recipe for disaster. Luckily, she had her art smock to cover the entirety of her clothes, but that had not saved her arms and legs from the ricochet of paint as the over enthusiastic kids hurled globs of color as hard as they could at blank canvases. Continuing to rake her nails against the skin of her arms, she sighed in frustration. She really should have taken a few more minutes to wash up one more time.
It was important that she look nice tonight. Tony, her boyfriend, had invited her to dinner stating he had some “big news”. Marianne assumed that it probably had to do with the big business deal he’d been working on for his company. Tony was a visionary of sorts. Having come from family money, his future was always to be well off. However, he had taken the extra steps to truly make something of himself and slowly over the years of his career he had come to own the single leading company in clean energy technology. She was proud of him – even if his job did take up a large amount of his life. However, without his job she probably wouldn’t have met him. She thought back to the embarrassing moment in which they had met nearly a year ago.
Marianne pulled at the neckline of her dress, the Peter Pan collar currently feeling as though it was going to choke her as she shifted uncomfortably by the food and drink table. As much as she liked being there for her best friend, she really wished Natasha would stop inviting her to these kinds of events. While Nat insisted that she’d stay right by Marianne’s side, she always ended up alone at some point in the night, twiddling her thumbs in a room filled with strangers. Having met in art school, Marianne always found it incredibly interesting how drastically different her and Natasha’s careers were. While Marianne had opted for teaching the youths of America about Monet, Dali, van Gogh, and Matisse, Natasha had settled on the curation of art, a field that suited her much more appropriately. The rubbing of elbows with the hoity toity rich was a perfect fit for Nat’s easy, sophisticated, and, for lack of a better word, sexy personality. With her naturally fire-red hair, knockout curves, and perfect smile, Natasha was the type of woman that when she walked into a room, every person either wanted to be her or to fuck her. There was no in-between. Even for Marianne, who supposed in some ways, she’d like to be a bit more like Natasha.
That’s why she was so surprised to be approached as she clung to her glass of champagne and pretended to stare contemplatively at the same painting of a flat tire for the fifth time that night.
“What do you think?” asked a smooth and timbred voice from beside her.
Marianne chuckled slightly to herself continued to trace the thick brushstrokes of the painting with her eyes. “Well, considering the artist’s theme of stagnation, I think they’ve gone a bit too on the nose with this one. It’s…unimaginative,” she commented, before turning to see the handsome man beside her. If she’d actually been drinking the champagne in her hand, she might have choked on it. Luckily for her, she hadn’t.
The man continued to stare at the painting in front of them, a contemplative expression that brought his thick, dark brows together, before he turned his gaze to her, “So you don’t think it will sell tonight then?”
“Oh no, it will definitely sell. I’ve been to enough of these things to know that it’s not really about taste, so much as it is status. If the artist seems important enough, then so is their art,” smirked Marianne, this time actually taking a sip from her champagne flute to avoid focusing on the intriguing way in which the stranger was staring at her.
“Ah, yes. The snobbish elites’ inability to see past their own social status,” he commented dryly, taking a sip from his own flute.
“Hey, you said it, not me,” Marianne laughed, feeling as though she might have made a connection with a reasonable person just yet.
“And who do I have the pleasure of giving me all the inside critique?”
She extended her free hand out to the man, “Marianne Barnes—art teacher, friend of the curator, and overall critic of the snobbish elite.”
He took her hand in his own, his grasp soft, yet strong as he shook her hand and stared her directly in the eye, “Tony Stark – member of the snobbish elite.”
Marianne blanched at the words, the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment taking over her as she realized her mistake. She was just beginning to open her mouth to apologize when Tony held up a hand.
“No need to apologize—” he inhaled deeply, looking around the room and the people that inhabited it “—Truth be told, I don’t think I can stand a single person in here. You excluded of course, but who knows that may change.”
Marianne wrestled with the smile that fought to match Tony’s own wry grin. He was too charming for his own good. Taking a second to look over his expensive suit, Italian leather shoes, and $200 haircut, she reckoned he was much too handsome and successful for her own good. Still, she figured there was no harm in a little conversation.
“Say, I like your accent. Where’s that from? Georgia? Alabama?” asked Tony, stepping in to close the distance between them and making the interaction feel so much more intimate than it should.
Marianne gasped in mock offense, “Excuse you sir, but I am Texas born through and through.”
“My apologies ma’am,” Tony said, holding a hand to his heart in sincerity. “It’s never my intention to offend beautiful women. But for some reason, it just, well, happens.”
That comment made Marianne pause, “You think I’m beautiful?”
He took a moment to assess her, raking his eyes over her from head to toe. Not in a predatory way, but more like he was assessing another painting on the wall. Then he answered, voice heavy in sincerity, “Most beautiful piece of art I’ve seen tonight.”
The sharp tone of Marianne’s ringtone brought her out of her musing and back to the present as she waited at a crosswalk for the light to change. Digging into the deep contents of her purse, she cursed under her breath, pushing aside pens, pencils, scrunchies, lotions, and general clutter before her fingers closed around the buzzing device.
“Hello?”
“I just really don’t understand why Serena and Nate just don’t get together! I mean, he basically broke up with Blair for her, the least she could do is date him,” groaned Natasha from the other end, before Marianne heard the distinct crunch of popcorn being chewed.
“Hey! Spoilers, I haven’t watched last night’s episode yet! Besides, I really don’t have time to talk about Gossip Girl right now,” she huffed, glancing at the time on her watch and realizing she was even later than she thought.
“Well hurry up and watch it! I want to talk about what Chuck did. You’ll never believe it—”
“Seriously Nat, no spoilers!” Marianne exclaimed, now picking up her speed as she crossed the street, trying not to catch the heel of her stilettos on the cracks in the pavement. “And I meant it, I’m running late for my dinner with Tony. He’s taking me to my favorite restaurant to celebrate the contract with Pym Technologies.”
“Wow. I never would have expected Tony to slum it all the way to the Mission District,” Natasha snorted.
“What? No, I’m in SoMa right now. We’re going to Omakase,” Marianne said, jumping back when a bicyclist zoomed past her, nearly knocking her into a dirty puddle.
“Oh…”
“What?”
“Nothing, it’s just that I have a distinct memory of you saying you’d rather lick an L.A. sidewalk than eat raw fish, but I have seen you scarf down more burritos from Taqueria Cancun than I can count.”
Marianne bristled at the comment; she always did this. “My tastes are allowed to change Nat,” she bit back, seeing the sign for the sushi restaurant her and Tony frequented in sight.
Natasha was quiet for a moment on the other end of the line before she responded, “Yea, yea, you’re right. I’m sorry. Well, have fun at dinner and tell Tony I say congratulation.”
Sighing, Marianne immediately felt guilty for the harsh way in which she spoke, “Thanks Nat, I’ll tell him. And don’t worry, I’ve got the episode queued up first on Tony’s TiVo. I’ll watch it tonight and then I’ll call you tomorrow and we can gab all about why Serena needs to pull her head out.”
The comment earned Marianne a small laugh from Natasha, alleviating some of her guilt, “I’m holding you to that. Talk to you later hun, love you.”
“Love you too.”
Marianne closed her phone just as she was approaching the front doors to Omakase. Throwing her phone back into her purse she pushed the glass door open, knowing that Tony was probably already waiting for her at their favorite table. The first thing she noticed upon entering the restaurant was the distinct lack of the normal bustling sounds of other people, the second thing was the presence of orchestral music, and the third were roses. Hundreds and hundreds of red roses. Stacked on every available surface, the flowers littered the restaurant in large arrangements placed in beautiful crystal vases.
Silently, her heeled feet padded across the rose petal covered floor as she tentatively stepped further into the building, wondering for a just a second if she was in the right place. However, as she rounded the corner to see Tony dressed impeccably, string quartet situation behind him as he stood next to the only table in the dining room, she knew this was exactly where she was supposed to be.
“Tony…” she approached him cautiously, unable to stop from looking around the room and all its grandeur.
“There she is. For a second, I thought you found something better to do,” joked Tony, closing the distance between them and kissing her lightly on the lips.
“Sorry, I got out of class a bit late and then Nat called. What’s going on?” Marianne asked, still unsure what the big romantic gesture was for.
“What? A man can’t treat his girlfriend to a romantic night?”
“Well yes, but I thought we were celebrating your deal.”
“Well, I mean that’s part of it, but we’ll get to that later. Here, why don’t you set your things down? I have something I want to ask you.” Tony slipped Marianne’s purse from her shoulder and placed it gently down onto her chair before turning to her and taking both of her hands in his. “So, a little precursor, I closed the deal with Pym Technologies.”
“Oh my god, Tony that’s amazing! I knew you were going to get it,” Marianne exclaimed, smiling widely at her boyfriend. She moved in to give him a congratulatory hug, but Tony stopped her, holding her away from him at arm’s length.
“Oh, hold on, let’s not celebrate too soon. At least let me finish my little speech and then we can jump up and down like teenage girls,” responded Tony. His tone, while its usual joking manner, held a tense and clipped edge to it that Marianne didn’t hear often. Nervously she shifted her weight, wondering what he could possibly have to ask her. Then slowly things started to click into place. Secluded restaurant. Red roses. String quartet. Tony’s favorite red wine on the table. Big important question. Oh.
“Well, once this deal goes through, I’m going to be spending a lot of time traveling internationally. Things are going to pick up at Stark Industries and I realized that life is about to get a lot more hectic and messier. Then of course, this brought on a whirlwind of existential questions about life and its meaning and purpose and what I really want out of it and…and I’m rambling aren’t I?”
“Yea, just a bit,” Marianne answered with a small smile.
“I had a point—”
“Did you?”
“I did—” Tony released his hold on her hands to dig into the pocket of his suit pants “—and I think it sounded a bit like this.” Marianne gasped lightly as Tony dropped to one knee. “Basically, to make a long, drawn-out story short, I realized that no matter how messy and crazy the future scenarios of my life, one thing remained a constant. You. You by my side as my wife. So…” Producing a small, black box from within his hands, he opened it slowly to reveal a large, sparkling engagement ring. “Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Marianne stood speechless for a moment, consumed by the surprise turn of events. For a second the musing thought that she would have definitely forgone splatter paint today if she had known she was getting proposed to, flashed through her mind before she nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes, yes I will marry you.”
That’s how one month later Marianne found herself entering Natasha’s apartment, arms completely stuffed with nothing but wedding magazines, samples, and binders. Dropping her things into a large pile on the carpet of Natasha’s living room floor, Marianne breathed in deep before turning her attention to an open portfolio on the coffee table. The bright splashes of reds and blues of oversized poppies amidst a large, open sky caught her attention, drawing her in.
“Hey Nat, are you looking to take in a new collection at the gallery?” she called towards the kitchen, unable to pull her eyes away from the beautiful and almost impressionistic take on the flowers.
“Yea, one of my boss’s associates is crazy about these giant oil paintings of poppies. He wants us to consider doing a whole show of them. We’re equally as enthusiastic, but I guess the artist is hesitant about selling their work,” answered Natasha from across the apartment.
“Don’t most artists want to sell their art?”
“You’d think, but judging from the California poppies, they’re probably some west coast artist that doesn’t want to ‘sell out’ and ruin the integrity of their work.” Marianne could almost hear Natasha rolling her eyes through the walls.
Staring even harder at the small collection of paintings as she flipped through the portfolio, Marianne asked, “Are you sure they’re California poppies?”
Just as she asked the question, Natasha came around the corner, two large glasses of prosecco in hand. “Of course. We’re in California. They’re poppies. California poppies,” Natasha shrugged, placing the glasses on the coffee table.
“Yea, I guess you’re right,” Marianne said, sharply closing the portfolio and shaking off the strange sense of melancholy that the paintings evoked.
“Jesus, when you said you wanted to come over and talk about wedding stuff while we watched Gossip Girl, I thought you meant something like looking at a couple of magazines, not planning the whole thing in one night!” Natasha said, eyes growing wide as she took in the sheer amount of materials Marianne had arrived with.
“Yea, well that’s pretty much all the time I actually have to plan this thing. Tony wants to get married soon so that we can go on our honeymoon before he has to start traveling for work. Once things pick up, we’re not really sure when he’ll get another free moment,” sighed Marianne, sitting down on the floor and beginning to organize her mess.
“I’m surprised he’s letting you plan this and it’s not him making all the decisions,” remarked Natasha, sitting down across from her, and picking up a magazine.
“What do you mean?” asked Marianne, looking up quizzically at her best friend.
“Well…” began Natasha, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “I just mean that Tony tends to have a habit of making decisions for you.”
“What? No, he doesn’t,” Marianne scoffed.
“Uhuh…okay. Well then, who decided shortly after meeting you that your car, your first car, your baby, wasn’t good enough and that you needed a new one?” Natasha asked challengingly.
“It was old Natasha. People get new cars every day. Tony was just kind enough to buy me a new one,” Marianne reasoned with her, picking up her glass of prosecco from the coffee table.
“Okay, what about your job? You were working at that cute little public, elementary school that you always said you loved so much. Next thing I know, you’ve got this new job at a private middle school.”
“Tony had some connections and there’s nothing wrong with moving up in your career. I’m pretty sure that’s the whole point of a career, Nat.”
“Your apartment then? A week after he saw your apartment for the first time, he insisted that you move in with him.”
“That apartment was a rat-infested shit-hole and you know it. Things were going well, and he had the space. I took a leap of faith and moved in with him. I think it went alright considering the fact that I’m marrying the man. Just- what are you getting at Nat?”
“I guess I’m just worried that these major life decisions aren’t what you want, but instead what Tony wants. I mean, you’ve been together barely a year and already you’re more like him than you are you. You dress posher, you act posher, your accent’s fading…I want you to be happy Marianne, but I don’t want you to lose yourself along the way,” Natasha ended her small rant by taking a large gulp of her drink.
Marianne placed a hand on her friends arm reassuringly, “Hey. It’s alright. I’m happy, I promise. And it’s still me! I’m still the same Marianne Barnes you met in art school – just a little fancier is all.” She laid her southern accent on thick near the end of her sentence, lifting up her left hand to waggle the large engagement ring in her friend’s face. Natasha laughed, knocking her hand out of the way, and rolling her eyes at Marianne’s blatant bragging.
“Shut up, now let’s work on your guest list and invitations first while we let the drama of Manhattan’s Upper East Side consume us,” said Natasha, exchanging the magazine for a binder as she turned her TV on with the press of a button.
A/N: Hi, back again with part two,if you are reading this right now i hope you know you are awesome ♥
This is my participation on my friend’s @lullabieswrappedinlies Rom-Com writing challenge (go check her out, she is so damn creative and amazing).This story is based on the movie Notting Hill and will be added on my MASTERLIST. or tell me you want to be tagged if you want to keep up.
BEFORE YOU JUMP IN BE ADVISED.
Pairing: Reader x John Krasinski.
Contains strong language.
"There is no way she still sleeping. She doesn't want to see me."
Restless, Alexis occupies the empty chair in front of you, once again, pretending to care about her manicure, lashing out on her right thumb by sinking her teeth into it. Her eyes were darker, tired, but still somewhat attentive to the stair at random times. You didn't need to ask why she was wearing the miserable beige turtleneck shirt. Several times, she promised to donate boxes, like a martyr, with no other way of portraying it. She was torturing herself. She hasn't slept.
"Shame on her, it is exciting to watch you trying to eat your fingers."
She laughs, and you know she is pissed, Alexis at her best only giggles, and laughs are only separated for dramatic times.
"You can tell me that when you have your kids."
"I have you."
"Why is everything a joke to you?"
"She is fifteen Alexis, it could be worse."
The corner of her lips curved down.
"Yes, it could, and it is...for both of us."
Her irises went cold while watching over you, bowing over the coffee mug. The image of Rudolph and Santa, swinging outside, blinked on your memory in the firefly pattern. It wasn't mourning material remains of the past. It was a sarcastic move that turned into a premonition growing for weeks into the back of your imaginative thoughts, crashing ever now and then like weaves.
"What did Kyle said?"
Your itching tongue asked, without conscious permission, breaking the sacred rule you could pretend not to live by, so the feeling of being in control was maintained. You wondered, yet you knew it, and Alexis was respectful towards the way dealt with it, to a point.
"Ghost from Christmas past called, he wants you to get that shit out of your front door, by the way, I'm going upstairs."
"Are you kidding me?"
"What was that?"
"She is breaking up with me, on a three-line text, what the fuck!"
Kyle pats my back in a way that is supposed to be some type of comfort as I try to read between the lines of a very simple "This is not going to work."
"At least you saw it coming."
He says, then takes a sip of the London Pride, looking down at his phone. He was right. I saw it coming since the last phone call, we were bored with each other, her more than me, and I couldn't even blame it on the day-to-day routine, not satisfying enough for Naomi, between the several months apart. I wasn't as adventurous as she needed me to be or that I purposely pronounced the "I love you." right close to an inevitable end to show that I, at least, cared at some point, which was pitiful in the end, considering we weren't that much introduced to the expression. I could blame the fact that I wasn't the one who did sooner to spare her from doing it over text. I deserved it.
I put the phone back into my shirt pocket as Kyle got the eyes fixated into his, sighing a tone louder than before, letting me know it is my turn to ask, just as yesterday. He fixes the Patriots cap once and twice, making it possible to spot his sweaty forehead amid the chilly weather.
"So, what is up, Alexis?"
"Nothing yet."
He drops the phone over the green tablecloth. I noticed how easier it became to spot frustration on another human being as if I could feel it on my own skin, and how it was sad. However, a valuable trait I would carry from my now, past relationship. Kyle could be more straightforward than Naomi ever was, shifting to a slightly nauseated expression at each glare towards the phone.
"You talked to her yesterday, how was it?"
I aim to ask the necessary questions so he could be comfortable enough to vent the rest organically as he's has been waiting for.
Kyle shrugs and inclines himself over the table, readjusting the cap again.
"I left when my daughter was barely ten, I appear once in a lifetime so she can be reminded of the daddy she has, how do you think it went?"
"Not great."
"Yeah, not fucking great."
A resentful laugh comes out with the answer, causing me to come down from my simple perspective, realizing that Kyle was more than a frustrated man who just couldn't make it work, we weren't neighbors of the same pain although linked by two different women with the same last name.
"What is changed now? It this just regret, or do you still think you love her?"
I ask, remembering to taste the beer becoming hotter in front of me, with the clear image of Portobello Road filling my memory, opening a box of its other branched memories. At least there was some pride in knowing I hadn't let myself wander around the thought for some months, months spent with Naomi, who hated people who remained in the past. I began to love the irony of our combination, convincing myself by using the 'fair balance' argument. Now she could be making her bags with recently brought tickets to whatever exotic place she wanted to go. At the same time, I was dragged back into the past.
"I... I want to see my daughter man, I want to stay for good in her life, fuck everything else, I want to do the right thing now, I didn't do it with Alexis, but I want to do it for Nova."
"And by the way, you are sweating over your phone, she hasn't decided yet."
"No, she is going to make me suffer for it, and it is not like I don't deserve it, but I won't give up, I won't give up."
He takes, shaking his head and looking over his shoulder, apprehensive.
"Well, you already know what I think about this."
His eyebrow raises in response to the remainder of our previous conversation.
"I know... I know, I won't force them to forgive me or love me, accept me back or whatever, but I want to try."
He cleans the remains of alcohol out of the mustache. I remembered how Alexis didn't even recognize him at first because of it. It made me wonder how (Y/N) would have reacted it.
"Is Y/N still there?"
He laughs, elbowing my arm.
" Oh...What? Are you also wanting round two, hun? Now I get it."
Kyle's second laugh echoes on the bar, attracting every British look a mile away. I can't help but incline over the table and bow my head, holding a grin while he looks around for a second, managing his tone.
"I'm only asking, man."
His attention bypasses my answer, causing me to regret asking him about (Y/N).
"Do you think it is funny that we only took this stupid job to get back to them? This movie is already busted. That fucking script could have been written better by a twelve-year-old who watched a bunch of Transformers movies."
"Transformers actually made about four billion, and no, I didn't take the job to get back to anyone."
"I know that you, in fact, did exactly that, and I know because Naomi told me you were ready to pack to some shit she hooked you up for, and when I got hold of you later, you didn't even want to listen till I told you the location we were filming. You changed your mind too, fucking, quickly. Tell me I'm lying, chowderhead."
I chuckled at watching his overexcitement. Besides my father, who still inhabits the same house in Newton for the past 40 years, Kyle always carried the Bostonian slangs, using words such as 'chowderhead' at random times. However, he is still fixed in California for decades. Mr. Krasinski would be proud of him.
"I'm not here because of her."
"And now Naomi did puff."
He shrugs smirking.
"She broke up with me."
He raises the bottle.
"Yeah, it means that you are in luck, enjoy it. You can come with me if you want after you pay the bill."
I roll my eyes before noticing more people starting to fill the tables around us, most of them looking under the drinking age.
A/N: Wow, who also need a good story to be pumped for the apocalypse? raise your hand please!
Not really sure if you guys know about this story, but June 27,2020 is the date, look it up lol. You know what else we could be doing before going to hell once for all for lusting so much over John Krasinski?
Sign this Petitions and donate if possible:
Justice for Elijah McClain
Elijah McClain donation
Justice for Miguel
Ways to Help and more petitions to sign.
BLACK LIVES MATTER NOW AND ALWAYS.
Well, now that i said what i said, let me finish by telling you, this is an important story for me. The past months have been extremely rough and i struggled like never before to fight for something i love to do not be consumed by dark thoughts, regardless of the past, i’m proud to be posting this right now, no matter how long it took for me and how minimal it may seem, goddamn i feel happy to create and write, and for you guys, in whatever you need to do, dream of doing, don’t let dark thoughts guide you into staying stuck, shine, do what you love, we all have the capacity.
This is my participation on my friend’s @lullabieswrappedinlies rom-com writing challenge (go check her out, she is so damn creative and amazing)
This story is based on the movie Notting Hill and will be added on my masterlist. or tell me you want to be tagged if you want to keep up.
BEFORE YOU JUMP IN BE ADVISED
. Pairing: Reader x John Krasinski.
. It contains strong language.
. Click here for soundtrack of movie if you are in your feelings today
JOHN’S POV
“John, we will be ready in five.”
“Ok.”
I press the phone once again against my ear, listening to her heavy sigh. It is easy to mold her face into my brain with dexterity. The bushy eyebrows, casting a shadow under piercing blue eyes, seeking to grab my soul, she succeeding to combine it all with a condescending smile on her lips. Condescension which I have to kiss it off.
“Well, if you want to go, then go.”
Deep down, she was still trying, and I can’t take that for granted.
“I don’t want to go. I need to go, an enormous difference. It’s work.”
I aim to be the diplomatic debater, the mediator, and the opponent. She is better than me at being the third party, perfecting the act of passive-aggressiveness in chosen phrases, fuming through her nose on the other side of the line. An act I wish to interpret as a genuine breathed laugh with no second intentions; my five minutes seemed to multiply.
“Call you later?”
I say.
“Yes.”
She answers
“Love you.”
She hanged up.
--------
Y/N POV
“This book is so weird and sexist, holy shit.”
You put the phone down, and Nova throws another eighties romance book into the cardboard box with its copies.
“Language.” You sing at her in a scolding tone.
“Sorry.” She sings back. “But you know I’m right. They are always pairing a young girl with some fifty years old, control freak who prey on them with their big, strong, tan hands.”
You giggle, and she looks satisfied.
Regardless of the narrative that anyone could quickly review, it was ‘in’ right now, as Agnes said, and what her bookclub wanted. “Un plaisir coupable.” she completed; the thin red lines that were her lips stretched in a laugh, causing her blue contacts to squint.
Soon enough, the scavenging for the material began, and you found the yellow pages, delivered with weird smells, phone numbers, and addresses written on the inside of the covers, but still readable.
“They paid and are coming to pick them up tomorrow. It’s the only thing I care about right now. Also, don’t let her catch you saying that you hear me? I will help finish this then we can close before your mom shows up and kill me when she finds out you are here.”
You move from behind the counter, seeing the digital hour hit past ten pm on the laptop.
“Oh, don’t worry about that, she already knows.”
The unconcerned Nova grabs a box, and you grab another following her quick steps, twisting to the right almost at the end of the hall, entering a room that was once a decent private office before it became nonfunctional.
The reserved bookshelf for Agnes club waited empty, a last-minute metal book rack next to the bay window. To create an illusion of a comfortable place for a book club, orange curvy chairs, which Alexis begged to be thrown out, along with the red Arabic carpet left behind with the chairs by the old owner. Every time you enter the space taking a deep, immediate, frustrated breath, Alexis wins a point.
You place the box down, looking at your niece.
“Kyle?”
You ask, and Nova hums softly, doing the stocking job.
Kyle, more than a name it was first a banned topic usually discussed between a limited couple of sentences. His name was a warning, along with his unrequested presence at random, unannounced times. It became harder since Nova wasn’t at a manageable age anymore. It was tough at fifteen, and as the time passes by, sweetness gains the bitterness, and innocence, gone.
“Well, you know you will always have a second bed, Donkey misses you.”
You gain a laugh while she finishes her box.
“Oh God, can’t believe you still keep him there.”
You shrug impulsively, paying attention to your own hands, arranging the books and their horizontal titles on a pile.
“It was your favorite toy, why would I throw it away?”
“You know why.”
A pause and a deep breath came from her, triggering the thought, long forgotten about, that people still expected you to be mourning over material remains.
“It’s okay to throw away with the rest of the others, it’s been a long time.”
Her auburn hair was now being tied in a bun. Your fifteen-year-old niece, holding a peaceful outside appearance, didn’t mind sounding more mature than you wanted to admit.
“Good... then we can donate, not throw it away.”
“Even better.”
She agrees quickly, stomping on the empty cardboard box.
Nova turns out the lights as you awaited for her, leaning against the glass door on the entrance, blowing hot humid air into your cold fingers and watching over nothing other than a middle-aged man with a red beanie walking a Greyhound on the other side of the empty street.
Notting Hill wasn’t known for its nightlife. It was almost a deserted city by eight and in the light of day, Portobelo Rode fruit market brings it to life. On weekdays, stalls and its hay baskets, packed with succulent fruits and greens, filled the streets along with shouted invites, half prices and sweet-soured smells invading each corner; on weekends the baskets shape-shifted to antiques of all kinds, genuine or handmaid, the crowd and the stalls multiplied in the small village.
In-between buyers and sellers of what you could harvest or find in your gramma’s basement there was your store, a bookstore, one corner away from your home, squeezed in the middle of Linda’s cafe and a self-employed yoga instructor that recently rented Mr. Walsh’s house, a retired Navy who moved to Greenwich with his daughter-in-law three weeks ago; his red door house now held a big white plaque with ‘Sivananda Yoga’ written in cursive gold letters, phone number and social media included under the picture of a woman in the lotus posture.
“A yoga studio, nice!” Says Nova, coming closer to the four steps leading up to the red door.
You close the store and covers her shoulders with your arm when the icy wind started building up.
“We could try it someday, your mom-.”
“Hates trying new things.” She completed. “Don’t even bother.”
“That is where you are the wrong baby. It may seem like this now, but I wish you could have seen your mom in her prior days. Wow... She was glorious.”
The feeling of wandering eyes aiming at your face became stronger as you carried her along the street under your embrace.
“Before my dad, I guess.”
A tiny part of your soul lighten up, recognizing itself in your niece’s words, but there was no place to fuel her fiery tone.
“To be honest, I don’t know, but people change Nova, everyone eventually, even the ones we thought we had figured out, including ourselves.”
“Whatever, I don’t want him back in the house again if she puts him back, I’m moving with you.”
The decisiveness in her voice sent bad vibrations along your back.
Unusual memory mechanism. Alexis visited your mind, vivid as if you could see her across the street you were crossing, she waiting and shivering at your front door because you forgot the spare key in the store again.
After the scolding she would show a rose-colored box from Fincher’s cafe under her arm, comporting the most amazing banoffee pie, your favorite pie from your favorite place.
Fincher’s cafe, that was once located two blocks away from where you two lived was closed when the old owner went bankrupt and reopened in Queensway street, she would drive there every weekend to bring that rose-colored box under her arm and wait for you on the couch, once the spare key was in the fake birdhouse, with the TV turned on and the plates placed on the center table next to the wine.
“See, I don’t think that will happen.”
“How could you know? Didn’t you just said people change?”
“And love changes people, your mother has more for you than you could ever imagine and without measuring efforts. She wouldn’t make any decision that would hurt you, trust me.”
Nova quickly disengage from the conversation, staying on mute abruptly, leaving a temporary gap for thoughts of doubt to occupy. Your heart is worried, but a grown-up, worried heart shouldn’t be shown while trying to pass a sense of security. That included waiting for Nova to fall sleep before calling Alexis.
You climb the four steps and opens the blue door, face to face with smiling Rudolph from last Christmas, hanging by a thread along with Santa, waiting to be taken down as the feeling in the pit of your stomach.
“I ate at home so if you don’t mind I will go to bed now.”
Unreeling the red knitted scarf, the tenth big piece Alexis attempted to make at her knitting fase, Nova doesn’t look behind once. You watch her back as she went upstairs to the guest room, her special fort at five, and now her hideaway at fifteen, with fewer toys and Donkey, an old stuffed toy still sitting in the shelf waiting for no one in a room cleaned every week.
You dismiss the purple scarf from around your shoulders, the third big piece on your sister’s collection, not as good as the tenth, but it warmed you inside to observe her trying to hide a proud smile in seeing what she made wrapped around Nova and you.
A stupidly cold breeze hits the back of your neck before you turned around to close the door, the phone rings along with squealing tires of a black car on the other side of the street.
Written for: @arrowsandmixtapes Rom-Com Writing Fic
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Mature
Words: 6347
Warnings: AU, Fluff, Implied Smut, Angst, Language, Proposal AU
A/N: This chapter is slightly longer. It covers a lot of ground but I hope it works out the way I intended. I tried editing but I’m having asleep so forgive me if it is a shit show. All errors are my own, gifs/photos found on Google unless noted above, and as always thank you so much for reading!
Summary: With your boss and now fiance, Steve Rogers, in tow you head home and prepare to deal with your family’s revelation of you dating the bane of your existence.
Masterlist || AO3 Link || Series Masterlist
The sight of your childhood home or rather your favorite of your childhood home’s coming into view was enough to make you feel slightly better. Steve hadn’t spoken again and neither had you. Thankfully Happy kept the partition up so he couldn’t comment on the tense situation in the back seat. The car rolled to a stop and you listened as Happy climbed out before the door opened.
“Welcome home,” Happy smiled and you pressed a brief kiss to his cheek.
Steve was already out waiting at the trunk of the car by the time you came around. Happy popped the lid and Steve grabbed his suitcase and then yours, “Allow me sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Stevie,” you cooed and Steve flinched. It’s something a few of his one night stands had used and you knew he didn’t like it. However, he kept smiling and followed you and Happy up the steps to the main entrance.
“Y/N!” your cousin Darcy squealed opening the door. After her parents had died your parents had pretty much adopted her and she was more little sister than a cousin.
“Darce!” you hugged her tightly. You pulled back and looked toward Steve, “Steve this is my cousin Darcy. Darcy this is my boyfriend Steve Rogers.”
Darcy’s eyes widened, “Steve Rogers? As in your boss Steve Rogers?”
Steve let go of your suitcase holding out his hand, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance and yes that Steve Rogers.”
“Well she wasn’t lying you are a Greek god,” Darcy winks causing Steve to blush.
“Darcy!”
“What?” Darcy looked back with a wicked smirk. “I mean look at him!”
“I’m so sorry honey,” you offered walking over to Steve and entwining your hand with his. “Darcy doesn’t have a filter at all.”
“It’s okay. I’m honored to know what you think of me.”
“Shut up,” you joked but couldn’t look at his face.
Darcy grabbed your suitcase allowing you to keep in hand with Steve. She led the way through the house into the main living room. Your mom stood quickly rushing over and wrapping her arms around you. Steve let go stepping back as you embraced your mom. He didn’t see your father so he was slightly relieved you both wouldn’t be completely ambushed.
“Now let me look at you,” Pepper stepped back holding your hands and looked you up and down. “I thought you’d look so different after being alone in the city but you’re still my little ray of sunshine. Have you been eating? Taking your medicine?”
“I promise Mom I’m taking care of myself,” you chuckle. “Mom, this is my boyfriend Steve. Steve this is my mother Virginia Potts-Stark.”
“Pepper,” your mom corrected. “Call me Pepper, Steve, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s my pleasure, ma’am,” he shook your mother’s hand just as the sound of approaching steps forced you to look up and meet your father, who was followed by your godmother Peggy.
“My girl,” Peggy called and passed Tony hugging you, “I’m so glad you’re home love. Look at you darling.” She looked past you and saw Steve, “And this must be that boss of yours.”
“And the boyfriend?” your father insisted. He held out his hand, “Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and a devoted father who can and will make you disappear if needed.”
“Tony!” “Dad!”
Steve only nods, “I would expect nothing less Mr. Stark.”
“Be nice Anthony,” Peggy scolded your father.
“I’m a perfect Angel,” he remarked sitting back on the couch. “So, let’s have a few drinks and hear about this relationship that suddenly exists out of nowhere.”
“Dad,” you take Steve’s hand but Steve seems completely unaffected by Tony’s attitude. “We’d like to rest a bit. It was a long flight but I thought we may all have dinner together tonight at Ember.”
“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Peggy agreed. “I’ll make the reservation. Y/N, why don’t you take Steve to your room and rest up. We’ll regroup in say an hour or so.”
Steve looks up at you nervously, “Is that okay? I mean us staying in the same room.”
Thankfully Steve said something because it was one thing you hadn’t thought of when Steve invited himself on your family trip. Being Steve’s fake fiancé was one thing but sharing a bed was something completely different. You quickly took his hand snuggling against his arm.
“We just didn’t want to presume so I offered him the guest room down the hall from my room.”
“Nonsense,” your mom smiled. “We’re all adults here and I highly doubt you haven’t shared a bed already.”
“Pepper!” “Mom!”
“I think they should be separated.” Your dad crossed his arms and you winced at his expression. At least it wasn’t as bad as the one he was shooting at Steve.
“Tony, don’t be like that. I seem to remember quite a few overnight guests when you were younger,” Peggy challenges your father and despite the situation, you chuckle.
“Fine whatever,” your dad leaps up pointing his finger at Steve. “But no funny business.”
“Yes sir,” you swore Steve visibly gulped.
“Okay so one hour,” you chuckled trying to ease the tension. “Come on Steve. I’ll show you our room.”
Steve followed you quietly up the stairs towards your old room. He was quiet so that made you nervous. You hadn’t planned to share a room with him but at the very least you did have a king-size bed and even with Steve’s size should allow plenty of room between you. You stopped at your door twisting the knob and swung it open. You knew your mother had probably spruced up your room before you got it but still it remained the same as when you’d left it years ago.
Steve looked around and while there was nothing enlightening it still felt intimidating to have someone in your personal space. He pulled out your chair at your vanity and sat down taking a deep breath, “So I’ll take the floor.”
“Steve, I’m sorry, but you don’t have to sleep on the floor,” you let your bag slide off and approached him. “It’s king size and even though you are huge there is plenty of room.”
“This whole idea was stupid. I shouldn’t have lied,” Steve couldn’t meet your eyes and it bothered you that you didn’t know what he was thinking.
“Hey I agreed I could’ve easily said no but we’re in this together. Just relax. Come on,” you stood holding out your hand to him wiggling your fingers playfully, “You have to feel my mattress.”
He stood reluctantly and followed you to the mattress where you unceremoniously flopped onto the mattress. Steve chuckled following suit and flopped next to you. You snuggled into your pillows face down while Steve reclined back putting his hands on his head. He sighed, “This feels like a damn cloud.”
“I know. I love it so much. My bed at my apartment is nice but nothing like this,” you sigh turning on your side and looking up at Steve. “I think you’ll like Ember. The chef is great and we eat there all the time.”
“All the time?”
“Well when we are here.”
“Speaking of, this house doesn’t scream Tony Stark.”
“No this is my Mom’s pride and joy and eventually it will be mine. It’s my favorite of our homes.”
“How many does he have?”
“We have a condo in London, New York City, Paris, and homes in Los Angeles, here, and another estate in New Hampshire. This house was always my favorite though. It felt more homely than the rest.”
“I can see that,” Steve goes silent again and you peek up seeing his eyes have closed. His features seemed lax now and he looks youthful. Not that Steve is not youthful but his demeanor often presents him as older. However, you turn away not wanting to dwell on your feelings toward him.
“Steve?”
He opens one eye looking down at you, “Y/N?”
“We need to get ready.”
“We just got up here?”
You giggle, “We feel asleep. It’s almost time to go.”
Steve yawns pulling his phone from his pocket and chuckles, “Damn. I didn’t even realize. What should I wear?”
“Let me get my dress and we can try to match it up.”
“Whatever you say Mrs. Rogers,” Steve answers while you open your closet door. You freeze at the sound and realize you hadn’t thought about that. How would you tell your parents you were engaged? How could you explain to them when your wedding announcement went online. You were the daughter of Tony fucking Stark you couldn’t keep that quiet for long.
“Y/N?”
You didn’t move feeling the familiar signs of anxiety clawing in your chest. Steve suddenly turned you, “Y/N, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“They’re going to find out about us. They are going to be so sad. I have to tell them about the engagement. I can’t lie to them. If they hear we got married and I don’t explain they’ll be devastated.”
“Y/N, you don’t have to tell them. It’s going to be a quick marriage and in a year we’ll quietly get a divorce.”
“I’m Tony Stark’s daughter and you’re one of the top publishers of the writing world. How do we keep that quiet? This is a disaster,” you managed to exhale.
Steve helped you back to the bed and knelt in front of you, “Y/N, this is going to be okay. I promise you that nothing is going to get back to your parents. We’ll make it quick and we can even use your fake last name. You have documents saying that’s your name. It’s going to be fine. Don’t give up on this now. It’s going to be fine.”
“I don’t think you know what fine means because this is not it. You are a handsome guy Steve you could’ve picked anybody why did you pick me?”
“Because you were there Y/N.”
“Gee thanks, Steve.”
Steve blows out a breath in exasperation, “That’s not what I meant.” Steve stood and sat beside you, “You are the best assistant I’ve ever had. You’re hardworking and dependable. All the good parts of my day happen because of things you do. When Pierce and Rumlow cornered me you were the first person I thought of and I’m sorry for that but I can’t do this without you.”
You nod leaning down taking a deep breath and then sitting back up, “Okay I trust you. Sorry I have anxiety.”
“That’s my fault too but I’m going to try and be better.”
“Thanks, Steve,” you smile trying to appear hopeful. “I’ll be okay. We should get ready.”
“Yeah I don’t want to make Tony Stark hate me more than he already does.”
“If it helps my godmother seems particularly taken with you.”
“She has good taste,” Steve teases and you make a faux puking noise.
“Shut up Rogers.”
You show Steve the bathroom and let him get ready in there while you quickly do some light makeup and grab a dress from your closet. He promised to announce when he was coming out but you find yourself in a predicament. The dress you chose has a small zipper and no matter what you don’t you can’t reach it to zip it up. Steve knocks and you cross your arms giving him permission to leave the bathroom. He looks over to you and seems to freeze before smiling.
“You look beautiful Y/N,” he compliments. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate to ask but could you please zip my dress for me? I forgot it has a little zipper and I can’t reach it.”
“Oh,” Steve doesn’t move.
“Does that oh mean yes or no because if it’s a no I need a new dress?”
“No. No I mean I’ve got it,” he moves then closer as you turn your back to him. He reaches down and you can feel the heat from his hands as he pulls the dress together and then moves the zipper up. He rests for a minute and you feel heated at feeling his presence behind you and his breath on your neck.
A knock at the door seems to break the unspoken tension of the room, “Hey almost ready?” Darcy peeks in with a knowing smirk. “Damn y’all look good together.”
“Thanks, Darce. We are on our way,” you smile and move away from Steve and slip on your shoes.
“How can you walk in those things?” Steve asks as you leave your bedroom following behind Darcy.
“Not well to be honest so if I fall please don’t laugh.”
“No promises,” he snorts.
“Ass.”
Darcy takes the liberty of driving you and Steve while your parents ride with Happy and Peggy. It’s been a while since you’d been into town and it’s just as lovely as the first time. As much as you love your job in the city there is something charming about the little town here. Steve holds your hand and while you know Darcy can’t see it and he has no reason to do so you find that you really don’t want him to let go. The thought hits you before you can realize what it means, but thankfully the car pulls to a stop before you can address it.
Phil who owns Ember happily greets you at the hostess stand and ushers you back to the private dining room. The lights are low and candles are lit giving the entire room an air of romance. It doesn’t help temper the heated moment from your bedroom or the way Steve held your hand in the car. In fact, right now you’d kill to have the arrogant Steve Rogers from before. This version of Steve is breaking your heart.
Things go well and even your father seems to be warming up to Steve. Your mother, Peggy, and Darcy are completely smitten already. Dinner is delicious and you excuse yourself to the restroom. That’s when the evening takes a decidedly downward turn. As you come out to wash your hands a woman with bright red hair who is clearly pregnant freezes seeing you.
“Y/N?”
The voice of your old friend makes you pause before looking up and confirming it is in fact Natasha Romanoff. If she’s here that means he’s here too and you cannot do this today, “Nat?”
“I don’t know you were back in town.”
“Just visiting for Peggy’s birthday,” you mumble not meeting her eyes. “Well it was nice seeing you.”
“Y/N wait,” Nat calls out to you but you push past her and head back for your table.
“Y/N?” you freeze as Steve looks up hearing someone call your name.
You turn from Steve and sure enough there is Clint Barton in all his glory with a child around four years old at his feet. The past heartache all comes back and you stumble back from him. It’s rather predictable but just as you fear you stumble and fall flat on your ass in front of the whole restaurant.
“Are you otay?” the little one at Clint’s side asks.
“I’m fine honey,” you try to answer without pain or rudeness to the child.
“Let me help you up,” Clint reaches for you but you pull away.
“I’m fine Barton.”
“Y/N, come on,” he sounds more sad than exasperated but you ignore him. As you move two large arms wrap around you and pick you up.
“You okay sweetheart?” Steve keeps his arm wrapped around you protectively and you instinctively tuck into his side trying to hide the embarrassment you feel.
“I’m fine Steve. Can we go please?” you ask desperately ignoring the fact Nat has now joined Clint and who is obviously their child.
“Yeah, of course,” Steve kisses your temple and turns you to the door.
“Y/N, can we please talk?” Clint calls to you but another voice interrupts.
“Move along Barton,” Happy’s voice leaves no room for disagreement. “You’ve done enough.”
Darcy has the car waiting and Steve ushers you inside. No one says a word and you wipe away the tears you had running down your cheeks. The car has barely stopped before you’re out and racing inside to your bedroom. You didn’t slow down to let Steve follow you. Once inside the room you kick off your heels and crawl into bed not bothering to get undressed. You hadn’t been home a full day and already it was a shit show.
The bed dipped rousing you slightly to see Steve moving under the covers. Steve laid back and turned to face you. It was dark but he left the bedside lamp on so he seemed to have a halo. Steve’s face was soft with concern and leaned down pushing the hair from your face, “You okay, Y/N?”
“No. I didn’t expect to run into them on the first day.”
“Who were they?”
You sighed and pushed up sitting against the headboard. Steve joins you quickly but doesn’t say anything further. It’s like he’s waiting but should you get into it with Steve? This whole thing is crazy and he’s your boss. Then again he’s been so different maybe he’s just the person you need to talk to at the moment.
“He was my fiancé. We dated in high school and he proposed the day we graduated. We ended up at separate colleges, but ultimately we made it work. Or I guess I thought we did. At least on my end it did.”
“He cheated on you.”
“Basically but ultimately that wasn’t the worst of it. Nat was our friend in high school. We were like this trio. We all cared about each other but honestly I thought it was more brotherly and sisterly between Nat and Clint. I guess in some weird Pornhub way it was but you know what I mean right?”
“I know what you mean.”
“Well Nat didn’t go to school like Clint and I did. She wanted to travel and all this. Well she stopped by to see me at one point and then naturally about a month later she was visiting Clint. My Dad and Mom didn’t trust it but I did. I’d never had any reason to worry about it. I should also mention that I was very much into planning my wedding to Clint so I had those relationship goggles on. Even if I felt something was up I don’t think I would have realized because I was just really excited to be marrying my best friend, you know?”
Steve nods and you reach for his hands. He lets you hold them as you nervously bite your lip, “I didn’t realize it at the time but after that visit, Clint seemed different. Phone calls were shorter and it just seemed like he never had time to speak with me. He planned to come home the weekend of Halloween so we could do some wedding planning but something came out with his internship. I didn’t think much of it then because I know how internships can be. So I just continued on with life. Then I went wedding dress shopping.”
Steve didn’t press as you grew quiet. You took a deep breath and then continued, “Nat came in and it was me, Darcy, Mom, and Peggy. Nat seemed off but said she hadn’t been feeling well so I didn’t press. Sometimes Nat could be moody so it didn’t really seem out of character. Darcy, however, felt it was something more but I told her that it was just Nat. Anyway,” you exhale shaking your head. “Anyway, I found my dress. I was so in love with the gown. So I get up on the little pedestal to twirl and I kid you now Natasha throws up all over me. She and Darcy had helped me and then suddenly she’s vomited. It was awful.”
“Oh God please don’t tell me.”
“She started crying apologizing and I thought it was because of the vomit. I mean it sucked but the dress could be dry cleaned so I didn’t understand why she was panicking. Then she blurted out ‘I’m pregnant and it’s Clint’s’.”
“Son of a bitch,” Steve exclaims although by the story he figured where it was going.
“Everything after that was crazy. My Mom had to hold Darcy off Natasha and I literally pushed off the dress and ran to the car in my lingerie. I drove all the way home and changed into clothes before booking to Clint’s school. He was waiting for me so I guess Nat had warned him. He apologized and told me he loved me but he realized he had fallen in love with Natasha.”
“And when was he going to tell you this? At the altar?”
“Apparently, the reasons his calls had been so short is because he wanted to break up but didn’t want to do it over the phone. He did plan to end it on that Halloween weekend but the internship thing really did happen. He didn’t even know Nat was pregnant.”
“So I was lost for a bit. I did manage to graduate and then I moved to New York and started working for some publisher asshole who I’m now engaged to. That’s life, huh?”
“Wait!” Steve looked pensive. “Is your apartment the one your Dad owns in New York?”
“Is that really what you got out of my heart crushing confession Steve?”
“I’m processing the heart-crushing stuff but the apartment thing just clicked.”
You snorted pushing him playfully, “You’re an idiot.”
“No Clint is an idiot. I don’t know what to say about that except for I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have gone through that.”
“Thanks, Steve,” you look down realizing you can’t sleep in your dress. “I should probably get changed. This isn’t going to be comfy to sleep in.”
“Want me to close my eyes?”
“No I’ll use the bathroom to change. Be right back.”
The dress was quickly pulled off and you scrubbed the leftover makeup your tears hadn’t washed away. Once in your pajamas you felt a lot better. It also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. Now that seeing Clint and Nat had been over and done with you could concentrate on surviving the weekend. Steve was waiting as you climbed back into bed. Once you were settled he turned off the light leaving you both in darkness.
“Hey Y/N?”
“Yes, Steve?”
“So is the apartment your Dad’s or what?”
“Oh my god, Steve! No, I wasn’t lying. It’s an old friend of my father, Dr. Stephen Strange. He owns the building and lets me rent out the apartment from him.”
“The surgeon in all the medical journals and who Rumlow keeps going after for a memoir, Stephen Strange?”
“The very one,” you giggle at the mild surprise in Steve’s voice. “Go to sleep Steve.”
“Night Y/N. So any chance you could set up a meeting between him and me?”
“Steve, no shop talk. Go to sleep.”
“Fine!” Steve turns and you listen as his breath evens out. You snuggled deeper into the blankets and drift off.
Steve’s head is still swirling with Y/N’s confession over her former fiancé when he wakes up the next morning. Things have changed dramatically in his view of her since this whole arrangement, but this really made it obvious to him. Y/N’s an amazing young woman and if circumstances were different he wants to be the one she did spend her life with. He told Bucky on many separate occasions that he felt he had a crush on his assistant and maybe truthfully that’s why he chose her when confronted by Pierce and Rumlow. He couldn’t think about that now though because all he could think about was the very assistant was using his chest as a pillow.
Steve opened his eyes to your slumbering form and found you’d thrown your arm and leg over his body letting your head rest on his chest. He probably should have woken you up then and there but maybe for a minute he could enjoy the fantasy. He could imagine that this was real and he had punched that ex of hers last night like he wanted to the moment she’d fallen on those too-high shoes. Then again from his point of view he did think the guy had pushed her. If that had been the case Steve would have ripped him apart.
“Stevie,” you whimper, and Steve looks down swallowing nervously. The way the name came out was decidedly indecent. It’s the way a lover might call out in the moment of ecstasy. Are you dreaming of such a scenario? Steve rather hopes you are but doesn’t allow himself to dwell on the thought. If he dwells on it he may have his own problems to deal with and the fact that you’re practically laying on top of him right now isn’t helping matters. Although it’s against his better judgment he reaches down rubbing your back.
“Y/N? Y/N, wake up,” he says it as gently as possible but it doesn’t lessen the blow of having to wake you.
You moan squeezing him a little tighter, “Five more minutes.”
Steve chuckles, “Okay five more minutes.”
“Thank you, Stevie,” you yawn and don’t move again. Steve doesn’t have the heart to try to wake you again. He’s just going to enjoy this moment as long as he can. Not that it will last long.
“Good morning!” the door slams open and Darcy is standing with Y/N’s mom holding cinnamon buns and a small coffee pot with two mugs.
Y/N shoots up wide-eyed and panicking at the loudness, “Fuck Darcy!”
Everyone laughs Steve included as you sit up ignoring the fact you had to untangle yourself from Steve’s body. Pepper sits next to you wrapping her arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead, “Good morning my sleepy baby. You okay?”
“No I’m tired and Darcy gave me a heart attack. What if we had been naked?”
Darcy looks over at Steve with a lecherous gaze, “Well I was hoping but here we are breakfast instead.”
“You’re literally the worst,” you groan snuggling into your mother’s hold.
“So we thought today we’d go out and have a spa day to get ready for Peggy’s party tonight and Steve can have a day with the guys,” your mother informed you and Steve couldn’t hide his nervousness at the idea.
Of course, you picked up on it, “Oh I don’t know if I’m ready to leave Steve alone with Dad and Happy. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Don’t worry Y/N,” Darcy insisted flopping down into your vanity chair. “My boyfriend Loki is going to join them and Uncle Bruce got in this morning.”
“Really? That’s great,” you seemed more at ease which made Steve feel a little better. “You’ll love Bruce and Loki is, well, Loki is an interesting character.”
“Wait?” Steve asks. “Loki is his actual name?”
Darcy laughs, “His parents are professors of Norse mythology. His brother’s name is Thor. I wanted to hook him up with Y/N but she’s doing alright.”
“Yes I am,” you smile leaning over kissing his cheek. Steve doesn’t move but he can’t wipe the dopey smile from his face. He doesn’t think you realized what you did as you reach for a cinnamon roll.
“You’re so smitten with my girl,” Pepper notes. Steve and you both look up at her, “I’m so happy you found one another.”
You don’t speak so Steve does, “Trust me. I’m so lucky and I know it’s under strange circumstances, but I’m really glad she chose me.”
“So sappy,” Darcy exhales. “Alright come on Pep. Let the kids get dressed. We’ll meet you both downstairs in half an hour.”
Pleasantries were exchanged before eventually they were left alone. Y/N stood without a word disappearing into the bathroom. Steve exhaled lying back in the bed. He didn’t really know what today held but he doubted it would be good without Y/N as a buffer. He stood pulling together some clothes for his turn in the bathroom. Y/N had returned when he was finished with her hair wrapped in a towel and nervously biting her nails.
“I’m sorry Steve.”
“Sorry?”
“For how we woke up,” you respond without meeting Steve’s eyes. “I’m a cuddler but I didn’t realize I would do that. Please don’t be upset.”
“Upset isn’t the word I’d use,” Steve smirks and your cheeks seem to redden with the comment. Steve finds he doesn’t mind it at all. In fact, he’d like to see your cheeks like that more often. The thought doesn’t bother him at all either.
“Perv,” you respond ignoring the building tension and moving to your closet urging Steve to the bathroom.
Tony’s idea of guy time was apparently bowling and beer. It didn’t bother Steve and despite the initial panic things had been going well. Uncle Bruce turned out to be multiple Ph.D. scientist Bruce Banner. He was quiet at first but was always willing to call Tony out on his bullshit. It was a nice relief and he seemed to like Steve. Loki was the odd man out. He turned out to be British and seemed to delight in riling everyone up during the game. Healthy competition was good for the soul anyway.
“So Rogers you’re not that bad of a guy,” Tony exhaled as Happy nudged him while they were putting back on their own shoes. “You make Y/N happy despite what she’s led us to believe for the last couple of years. I’m just protective since the whole Barton debacle, but I meant what I said. Don’t hurt her.”
“What made you change your mind about me in the last twenty-four hours?”
Happy answered, “The restaurant.”
“Huh?”
“When Y/N fell I watched your face and you looked like you were going to rip Barton apart. That’s when I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“I appreciate it Mr. Stark. Y/N’s amazing.”
“Just Tony is fine.”
“Oh he can call you Tony,” Loki teased. “What might I do to earn such a privilege?”
“Move back to England,” Tony grinned and Loki did too. Obviously it was an inside joke between them but Steve didn’t dwell. They had a late lunch at some burger joint and by the time they returned home they had roughly two hours before Peggy’s party.
Steve sat on the bed getting ready to hop in the shower. He didn’t see the other car back so he had some time to himself before you returned. He’d pulled out a nice outfit for the party that you had picked out for him. From what Happy had said it was supposed to be a twenties’ themed extravaganza at Peggy’s insistence. He saw the flapper dress that you’d unpacked yesterday and he couldn’t deny you’d look breathtaking and with this outfit together you’d look amazing. Since you weren’t back he pushed off his clothes and grabbed what he needed for a hot shower. He grabbed his robe and went to the bathroom shutting the door behind him.
He froze feeling the heat in the bathroom and realized you were stepping out of the shower. He panicked not moving because he knew you’d taken a shower before you’d left. What were you doing?
“Steve!” you quickly wrapped your arm around your chest and tried to cover your privates with your hand. “Why are you naked?”
“Why are you naked? I thought you took a shower this morning,” Steve exclaimed not bothering to cover himself.
“I needed to shower off some stuff they used at the spa. It made me itchy.”
Steve swallowed moving closer. Your eyes widened but you didn’t move to step back as he approached. Both of you were breathing heavily as you slowly lower your arms. Steve reached up cupping your cheek before leaning forward. Steve should have stopped himself but when your lips pressed against his he lost all composure. Your lips were soft and you kissed him back as eagerly as he had kissed you.
“Shit,” you groaned pulling away and pressing your hands to Steve’s chest. “Steve we need to think about this. This is more than faking a relationship. I’m not a hook-up kind of girl.”
“I know this isn’t a hook-up. I want to date you,” Steve blurted out breathlessly wanting to touch you again. “I want to make this real. I don’t know what has happened or why I couldn’t admit to it but I need you.”
“Okay,” you smiled before lunging forward kissing him hard. He moved his hands down your body and lifted you by your thighs. You moaned as you wrapped your legs around him and felt how hard he’d grown.
“Holy shit you’re huge,” you chuckled and Steve seemed bashful.
“Thanks now are you sure you want this?”
“Please Steve Rogers, get inside me,” you begged and Steve laid you back on the bed falling with you. He fell with you caging you between his arms and looking down your naked body.
“I’m so sorry it took me so long to see you. I mean to really see you,” Steve placed butterfly kisses on your cheeks, your eyelids and your lips before moving to your neck.
“It’s okay Steve. It’s okay.” Steve’s lips meet yours again as you spread your legs welcoming him in between.
Steve helps you back into the shower after what you can only describe as the best sex you’ve ever had. It’s sensual and tender but not nearly long enough although Steve promises you he’ll take his time tonight. It’s a thought that makes you literally feel weak at the knees. You both dress sneaking knowing glances at one another before he takes your arm in his and leads you down the steps to where Darcy is waiting with Loki. Happy is driving your parent’s and Peggy to the ceremony. So the back-up driver Wade is taking you four in an actual limo. It’s exciting for you as you skipped your prom and Steve doesn’t miss the excitement in your eyes. He doesn’t know why you missed your prom but he’s happy you feel so comfortable with him. A part of him hopes you both never have to go back to the real world. However, the real world has other ideas.
“I didn’t know you could dance,” you tease as Steve twirls you on the floor.
“I’m a master of many talents,” he remarks pulling her closer. “You look stunning.”
“Stop it Steve. You’ve already won me over.”
“Then why would I stop? I have to keep you now and redeem myself for the asshole I was.”
“Give me more of what you gave me this afternoon and I think we’ll call it even.”
“Oh sweetheart,” Steve teases moving to whisper in your ear. “When I’m done with you after this party you’ll have trouble walking.” Steve laughs as you tremble but the look in your eyes tells him you are just as excited about it as he clearly is.
“Y/N, Steve,” your father is suddenly standing next to you two and looks really pissed. “I need you both to come with me right now.”
“Dad, we’re dancing,” you scoff.
“Now, Y/N Y/M/N Stark,” he practically growls. Steve takes your hand squeezing it in solidarity as you both follow your father.
He takes you out of the main area and through hallways to a small room that might serve as a suite for a bridal party. He turns sitting down and takes a big gulp from the glass of amber liquid he has in hand. Steve can feel the nervousness coming off you in waves he lets go of your hand and wraps his arm around you. He worried about overstepping but you seem to relax as you wrap your arms around his waist.
“You know since Y/N took your job she has called every week, in tears most of them, talking about how awful you are to her. How your arrogance knows no bounds and how much you love belittling her especially in front of other people. Every single phone call, the same since the beginning until suddenly she’s secretly dating you and brings you to her godmother’s birthday weekend. I don’t buy it. I didn’t buy it then and told Pep something was up, but no your mother’s a romantic so I was put on a leash. Well the leash is gone. You both better tell me what the hell is going on right now.”
Tony Stark looks scary as hell when he is pissed and Steve has no doubt he’ll make good on his threat if Y/N is hurt. He takes another gulp standing buttoning his suit jacket with a menacing glare leveled at Steve. Steve would give anything to look at you and you find you feel the same way. No one says a word until Y/N steps forward letting go of Steve’s waist.
“It just kind of happened, Dad. I kept up the façade that he was horrible because I knew it would look bad since I was his assistant. That’s all. Where is this coming from?”
“Don’t give me that bullshit Y/N!” Tony shouted. “You were miserable and now you act like the sunshine comes out his ass.”
“Tony,” Steve tries to intervene but from his expression Steve can see he has messed up.
“Don’t Tony me,” he growls. “I know you’re using her. What did you do threaten her?”
“Excuse me?” Steve answers back. “Why would you say that? I care very much about Y/N.”
“Bullshit,” Tony turns away from you and Steve. “You can come out now.”
Both you and Steve’s mouths drop as the man approaches standing proudly next to Tony, “Y/N. Steve.”
Steve is angry beyond belief at the sight of the man standing before him. He looks over to Y/N and he can see she’s in a similar mindset, although she does look slightly more murderous before she speaks, “Rumlow, to what do we owe this displeasure?”
Written for: @arrowsandmixtapes Rom-Com Writing Fic
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Mature
Words: 4619
Warnings: AU, Fluff, Implied Smut, Language, Proposal AU
A/N: This is inspired by the Proposal with a slight twist to make it work but overall same premise. Shitty boss, sweet assistant with dreams of more, a fake engagement, you know the works. All errors are my own, gifs/photos found on Google unless noted above, and as always thank you so much for reading!
I originally planned this as a one-shot but I’m wordy so it will be a small series with three chapters.
Summary: Steve Rogers while devastatingly handsome is quite possibly the devil incarnate. As his assistant you are usually his door mat especially when his promotion hangs in the balance leading to a surprising proposal.
Masterlist || AO3 Link || Series Masterlist
The coffee shop was buzzing with the typical Monday crowd. College students sucking down caffeine to help with the sleepiness of late night party binges, people in suits trying to work up the strength for another week of mediocre life, and then there were the people like you. Those running late, disheveled, and picking up orders for their bosses, their bosses who were probably reincarnated versions of Satan! Well, that was unfair. They weren’t Steve Rogers’ personal assistant but you were and he was going to have your head if you didn’t hurry up with his caffeine.
“Y/N,” Peter waved from the side counter with your litter carrier filled with four coffees. You thrust the money in his hand and darted out with a wave. The other customers gave you murderous glances but she ignored them. Peter paid no attention either. You had moved into the apartment across from him and his Aunt May. They’d made you feel like family since day one so you sometimes go advantages like your coffee run this morning. Peter had probably saved your life. Well, at least your paycheck since you didn’t know what kind of mood Steve would find himself in this morning.
Thankfully by whatever God was above you managed to make it there for Steve did. The office was more relaxed before he arrived, but the moment he entered that building the tension was everywhere. This week especially as the partners were announcing that a top publisher would be making partner. Steve had his eyes on partnership as long as you had worked for him and that would be three years fairly soon. Besides his often abrasive demeanor you couldn’t deny he had more than earned partnership. In fact, you’d never tell Steve this, but you couldn’t see why he didn’t start his own publishing company. Not that you didn’t love Pierce and Rumlow Publishing but frankly they both gave you the creeps.
“Wanda, Pietro,” you sat their cups down at the twin’s a joining desks. They worked here when you were hired and you really enjoyed their company. They were assistants to other publisher’s but they were more than happy to help when Steve put too much on you.
“You nearly didn’t make it,” Pietro teased.
You shrugged your coat off and quickly pulled Steve’s coffee from the carrier as Wanda handed you the papers she printed off for you last night. Of course, not only had you taken work home with you in an attempt to get this new writer’s contract complete, but your printer decided to bite the dust. Wanda was a lifesaver.
“Thank you so much! I panicked and I’m sorry I called you so late,” you squeezed Wanda’s shoulders with a hug.
“It’s alright,” she smiled wickedly. “I had knocked Vis out fairly well so no fuss.”
“Sister,” Pietro made a disgusted face but he only served to make you and Wanda share a giggle.
The laugh was short lived as a few desks away Jane popped up, “The Captain is in motion.”
“Shit!” you hissed. That was the signal for Steve so you turned rushing towards Steve’s office but missing the towering form of Jack Rollins’, another publisher and friend of Mr. Rumlow’s. He was technically under Steve but thought with his connection that he’d be taking the partnership this year. You highly doubted it.
“Watch where you’re going? This suit is Armani,” he hissed and you cringed at the coffee that now stained your pale pink blouse. Thankfully you had started drinking whatever Steve had just for these emergencies. You put the half spilt cup down and ignored your stained top to rush into Steve’s office and lay out the contracts Wanda had printed and power up his computer.
Steve was a big guy and strode into the room without a second glance at you as he toss his coat in your direction. You were waiting and quickly hung it up and reported to the front of his desk per usual. You attempted to pull your cardigan around enough to cover the stain but stopped fidgeting when he looked up.
“Didn’t have laundry facilities or clean clothes for work?” Steve asked with a cold look of displeasure.
“No sir just an unfortunate run in with Mr. Rollins,” you kept your voice clipped but enough so that Steve would know you weren’t happy about the situation any more than he was.
“Did you get the contract finished for Mr. Pym?” Steve asked dismissing the subject of the coffee stain.
“Yes,” you leaned over pointing to the papers just in front of him. “I triple checked them for the final figures you discussed and have the meeting set up for Monday at three pm.”
He hummed looking through the large stack of papers. Before he asked you’d already marked with tabs the areas needing to be signed. He didn’t say anything nor did he dismiss you which made you all the more unsettled. The silence drained on as he went over every single page of the contract.
“Is there a problem?” you questioned eager to get back to work.
He looked up and then sat the contract down, “I spoke with Mr. Pym’s daughter Hope last night and Hank was pulling out. Unfortunately, this contract is nothing but scrap. I emailed the new contract details and I’ve moved the meeting up to Friday at noon.”
Anger surged in your veins but you strived to remain calm, “I worked all night on this and you couldn’t call and give me a heads up.”
“I’m sorry I was focused on keeping a client rather than playing phone tag with my secretary. I’ll need these done for the meeting and I’ll need you at the meeting to notarize and act as witness.”
You paled stammering. This client was big but you’d promised to finally make the trip home for your godmother Peggy’s birthday, “Sir, I can’t. I’m off at noon on Thursday and won’t be back until Monday morning.”
“I’m sorry but you’re needed here Y/N,” he stood with a firm grimace on his face. “I need you at the meeting.”
“There are other notaries that can be there I have priorities. I haven’t been home in two years because I’ve been completely dedicated to this job. One meeting can be taken over by someone else.”
“And my assistant can be replaced by someone else as well,” that stopped you. He was serious and you nodded. You collected the worthless contract and retreated from the office dreading the work the new contract would require but more so the call home.
The work on the new contract lasted all of five minutes before you pick up the phone to give the bad news to your family. There is a small hope that your mom answers but as your luck usually goes that isn’t likely the case. The phone rings three times before your father answers.
“Stark residence, this wouldn’t happen to be my wayward daughter would it?”
“Morning Dad,” you try to hold back your disappointment but he always knows.
“Morning Y/N,” he seemed apprehensive. “Now what’s wrong? You never call this early cause of that meathead you work for.”
“I know but I have some news.”
“It’s not good news is it?”
“I’m afraid not. I can’t make it out this weekend.”
The line was quiet before he let out an exasperated huff, “You have got to be joking Y/N Stark. I know you have responsibilities there but your family misses you. Is it that dick head? There are other jobs and you haven’t had a single day off since you’ve started.”
Your dad continued ranting and you only murmured agreements as you kept working. You tried to interrupt but he was on a roll and it didn’t seem like he planned on stopping anytime soon. Maybe you should have waited and called from home. Wanda stopped by giving you a refill of coffee when Steve’s door opened. She quickly returned to her desk and you sat up quickly cutting off your father.
“That’s great sir! Thank you for clarifying the changes. If I have any more questions I’ll call,” you offered hanging up the phone praying your father didn’t call back.
Steve was not fooled, “Your family?”
You blushed but nodded, “Yes sir.”
“They tell you to quit?”
“That’s a nicer way of putting what they said.”
Steve chuckled which made you angry, but you bit your lip and went back to work. Steve didn’t leave, “Pierce and Rumlow called me up for a meeting so I need you to give me ten minutes and then come say I have a call. I don’t have time to exchange fake compliments all day.”
“Yes sir,” that’s all you said before he spun messing with his phone as he climbed onto the elevator.
You pushed back and wanted to scream but didn’t. Maybe your dad had a point. Maybe you should just quit. Let it go and move on with your life. Move back home? Your parents always wanted you home and maybe this was the universe’s sign that it was the right move. You shook that thought away immediately. You couldn’t give up your dreams and desires because of someone like Steve Rogers.
“Why do you think he is so cruel to you?” Wanda is suddenly at your side as you pick up your cellphone. Sure enough there are an outpouring of missed calls and texts from your mother and your cousin but you ignored them standing up and smiling at Wanda.
“Better me than someone else,” you sigh. “I don’t know why he’s so impossible but duty calls. I have to go save his ass again.”
She shrugs, “All things aside that’s a hell of an ass.”
“I admit that in itself is a tragedy,” you tease. “He’s such an Adonis but with a shitty personality that ruins it.”
“Good luck,” she waves as you head towards the elevator to go claim your boss as he ordered.
The elevator is slow and gives you time to create the lie. You never understood why Steve was so intent on being a partner here when he couldn’t stand Pierce or Rumlow, but honestly that was the least of your concerns. He had his reasons and until you could manage the courage to ask for publishing you just had to grin and bear it or go home with your tail between your legs. The top floor was reserved for Pierce, Rumlow, and their personal staff. You’d only ever been up long enough to get Steve and avoid the salacious comments from Rumlow. The large heavy doors of the conference room are closed but you can hear a murmur of voices from behind.
You took a deep breath and knocked pushing the door open to peek in at the room. Rumlow and Pierce were sitting at one side while Steve and Jack Rollins were at the other with a secretary that seemed to be taking notes. Steve looks up at you and quickly jumps up rushing over to pull you inside the room.
“So as you see it’s not a problem and we’re happy to sign any forms needed to make this official,” Steve took your hand in his and then brought it to his lips for a soft kiss.
Your eyes widened looking between him and the men at the table. Steve squeezed your hand and mouthed play along. You nodded forcing a smile, “Yes absolutely. What are we making official?”
“Your engagement,” Pierce stood buttoning his suit jacket. “Steve just informed us that you got engaged over the weekend and he’ll be meeting your father this weekend.”
“That’s wonderful news!” you squeaked squeezing his hand tightly. “I didn’t know we were making it public until after the wedding.”
“Come on Pierce,” Rumlow spoke up. “This is a joke and you know it. They aren’t engaged.”
Steve went to speak but you stopped him, “I think my relationship with my fiancé has nothing to do with you Mr. Rumlow. We know this was unorthodox considering I’m his assistant and he plans on publishing my book but we are committed to making it work and all we need now is your congratulations. It’s nice to be able to have it out in the open now.”
You could barely believe the words had left your mouth and clearly based on Steve’s reaction it was just as much of a surprise. Rumlow looked infuriated but remained silent. Pierce looked back to his associate and laughed, “Good enough. Just make it official and we’ll have a deal Rogers. That’ll be all.”
Steve pulled you with him out the door. He didn’t drop your hand until the elevator doors closed. He put space between you both holding up his hands, “What book am I publishing? That’s not happening.”
“Excuse me?” you looked up. “You just lied to the partners saying we’re getting married! Do you honestly expect me to get nothing for it? What the hell Steve?”
“They won’t make me partner because this is a “family” company and I don’t have a family or some bullshit. I just need you to do this. Just pretend to be my fiancé we’ll do a quickie wedding and get divorced in a year.”
“You are incredible,” you growled. The doors of the elevator thankfully opened and you stormed out to your desk. Wanda looked nervous but you just cut off your computer and grabbed your purse and coffee. You just needed to get the hell out of here as soon as you could. This was insane and you couldn’t be a part of it.
“Y/N,” Wanda called but you kept going pushing past Steve into the elevator. Thankfully he didn’t follow and you concentrated on just getting home and cuddling with your cat, Salem. Today had been a cluster fuck from the beginning and you still smelled like coffee where Rollins had ran you over this morning.
Salem was waiting by the door for you when you got home. You pulled off your clothes and quickly got into your pajamas, which mostly consisted of old gym shorts and a Nirvana tank top that had seen better days but it wasn’t like you had roommates. Salem climbed onto your lap as you laid back on the sofa putting on another Doctor Who rerun. How could Steve tell them you were engaged? Didn’t he have other girls who would happily say yes? Not to mention how the hell could you explain to your parents that you were suddenly marrying the very man who made you want to scream on a daily basis.
The knock on the door shouldn’t have surprised you but it did. Salem was already at the door meowing. You pulled on an old sweater and opened the door not even surprised to find Steve standing there with a bouquet of daisies and sunflowers in whimsical colors, which were your favorite. Wanda always bought them for your birthday so it was clear she must have helped.
“Can we talk?” Steve’s voice seemed softer than you had ever heard it before. You knew you would regret it but you opened the door and waved him into your apartment.
He sat at your small dining table while you put the flowers into a vase sitting them on your coffee table, “What do you want Steve?” You took the seat across from him pulling your sweater tighter around your frame.
“I hate asking for help but I need you to do this for me. I’ve been busting my ass for years to make partner and just because I’m not married they want to keep it from me. I’m begging you to please do this and I’ll be at your mercy. I’ll publish whatever book you’re talking about with no questions and I’ll even give you a raise.”
“I don’t understand Steve. What’s so important about making partner? You already have the biggest clients in the whole company. Go out on your own. And seriously, Rumlow and Pierce a family company? Rumlow is married and do you know how many times I’ve had to thwart his advances or lewd comments? What’s so important that you want this that bad?”
“It’s the name and everything that goes with it. I can’t go off on my own. In this economy I’d flounder no matter who my clients are. I need the name and prestige.”
You scoff and get up pulling a beer from your fridge, “I don’t know if I can do this Steve.”
He scrambles to his feet and then to your dismay gets down on one knee, “Please Y/N Black will you marry me?”
“Steve,” you start unsure what to say. You pull him to stand, “Please get up. This is too much you have to know that.”
“I know it is but you’ve got me by the balls now. They think we’re together and if I admit it’s a lie they’ll fire me,” you sigh standing up. “Please Y/N marry me.”
You took the ring from him and despite yourself you did like it. It was a rose gold and seemed to look like a vine with the leaves as diamonds. In the middle sat a solitary diamond but it seemed to be real. You handed it back to him knowing you would regret this, “Ask me again.”
Steve lit up falling back down to one knee, “Y/N, will you marry me?”
Steve was going over some paperwork while you were nervously watching the small in flight television. He had spurred for first class although you could have managed your own. He wasn’t joking when he said he intended on meeting your family. He moved the meeting with Hank Pym and had the arrangements resting on your desk when you got to work the morning after he promised. The ring felt heavy but you had agreed to it despite the numerous questions from your coworkers. You sold the story well and promised Wanda you’d reveal the whole story at some point but not now. She was hurt that you hadn’t told her but agreed to hear you out when the time came.
The biggest surprise had been Steve. He seemed like an entirely different person as if the last years it was a different man you were working under. Maybe it was or maybe he really wanted this to seem as authentic as possible. He had wanted to go over your story before landing. You hadn’t broken the news to him about who your parents were and the fact that their friend and chauffer would be picking you up. One thing at a time though.
“So I guess we should get our story straight and learn a little bit about each other,” he smiled putting away his laptop and the papers he’d been working with.
“You mean for you to learn more about me. I already know everything about you,” you shut off the television and turned to face him. “So ask away?”
He scoffed, “You don’t know everything about me.”
“Are you sure I don’t?”
Steve’s eyes squinted but there was a challenge there, “Prove it.”
“You asked for it Rogers,” you took a deep breath. “Your father’s name was Joseph but you don’t know more than that because he was an alcoholic and took off when your mother, Sarah, found out she was pregnant. You were a sickly child and how you survived is beyond anyone’s understanding. However, your childhood best friend was Bucky Barnes, who you are still close with. In fact, you were his best man when he married his partner Sam and all three of you have matching tattoos. Now I’m curious as to what that is but I at least know you have one. They met in the army, which you tried and failed to enter due to your numerous health issues. That changed in college and you began working with the university on a health and wellness program while obtaining your masters in English literature. You became healthy and then a wee bit of a fitness nut but don’t consume alcohol unless it’s a social event due to fear of your father’s alcoholism. You say you like black coffee but we both know it has enough sugar in it to give someone diabetes. You like being a publisher because on top of being sickly you were also poor. Reading was an escape so you want to publish books that help people escape. However, you have a temper and frankly a shitty personality with your underlings so much so that they are afraid of you.”
Steve’s face never made any expression beyond shock once you finished. You took a breath, “I think that covers the main plot points.”
“I have a shitty personality?”
“Yeah the whole office is terrified of you and I have to take anxiety meds to handle the work day. Well, except for the last few days. You’ve been a whole different person.”
“Wow,” Steve sat back looking pensive before taking a deep breath. “How did you know about the tattoo?”
“Oh you also have a string of gorgeous one night stands who desperately want more but you toss them aside. One called trying to get the pass code to your apartment and described her night with you in vivid detail down to the tattoo. Although she never said what it actually was just that even the tattoo was hot.”
To your surprise Steve actually blushed, “Sorry for that.”
“It is what it is,” you wave at the flight attendant for a drink.
“So we’ve been dating for about eight months. Are we living together?”
“No, but we do have a drawer and closet space for each other. Standard dating fare I suppose.”
“Speaking of which, how the hell do you afford that apartment? That’s a great neighborhood.”
“Landlord is old friends of my father.”
“What does your father do?”
The question you’d been dreading, “He’s an inventor and my mother was his former personal assistant.”
Steve chuckles, “Sounds familiar so they can’t be too surprised by this.”
“They will be since it’s you.”
“Because I’m your boss?”
“Mostly because I told them you’re the devil incarnate.”
Steve chuckled at that before sitting back, “Well tell me about you then? I’m guessing you’re a writer since I’m suddenly publishing your first novel.”
“I am a writer or I want to be. I’ve worked on this manuscript since I was in high school and I’ve finally edited to a point where I think it will be enjoyable.”
“Are you going to tell me what it’s about?”
“I emailed it to you. You can read it and decide for yourself but I am doing this huge favor for you.”
He remained quiet looking away, “So go on?”
“Not much to say. I go to work and come home. I enjoy binge watching Netflix when I can and I like to bake. I really like to bake actually.”
“Wait, are you the person who baked those pies for the Christmas party last year?”
You blushed, “Yeah why?”
“Oh my god they were delicious. I’ve been trying to figure out what bakery they came from forever.”
“It was me,” you shrug sitting up when the seat belt light comes on. You didn’t realize it was nearly time to land.
“Well I picked a good wife then,” he smiled and cleaned up the papers he had and buckled his belt as you did.
“Do we need to rent a vehicle?”
“No my Uncle is going to pick us up.”
He didn’t comment further and you were thankful. You ignored the guilty feeling that you didn’t completely disclose who your parents were, but he would probably realize soon enough. The plane landed and the normal routine of disembarkment and baggage collection began. While you went through the motions you thought back to the discussion on the plane. He seemed so different continuing his pattern since you’re impromptu engagement. You decided not to dwell on it knowing it was probably just his way of making sure he got what he wanted.
The airport wasn’t crowded, which wasn’t unusual, but every step closer to the exit made you nervous. Your parents had been beyond themselves when you called with a change of plans and the announcement you’d be bringing Steve along. You informed them he was a boyfriend but still you knew they wouldn’t approve. You’d spent the few calls home lamenting the anguish over Steve’s treatment over the years including the day of your faux engagement. However, your mom was ever the voice of reason and agreed they’d meet him. Even though they didn’t believe the explanation that you had wanted to keep your relationship private.
Happy was waiting playing a game on his phone when you exited the airport hand in hand with Steve. He was perplexed just as unbelieving as your father Tony over the perceived relationship between you and your boss. His sunglasses were drawn and his expression blank as he slipped his phone in his pocket walking to grab the suitcase you rolled behind you.
“He’s your Uncle?” Steve asked quietly approaching the men who was leaned against the Rolls Royce Phantom. It wasn’t one you were familiar with and based on the purplish color you could see it was a newer purchase probably at your mother’s insistence.
“Not by blood but by everything else. You won’t find a better man,” you complimented meaning every word. You pulled away from Steve and rushed to Happy throwing your arms around his shoulders.
“How’s my Princess?” he asked affection evident in his voice.
“Too grown up to be a princess any longer. How are you Happy?”
“Better now that the wayward daughter of Tony Stark has returned home.”
“You forget I’m Pepper Stark’s daughter too.”
“Oh I don’t forget,” Happy smiled ignoring Steve but collecting your suitcase. “No one can forget Pepper.”
You giggle remembering Steve. His expression had dropped into shock, “Steve this is Happy Hogan and Happy this is my boyfriend Steve. Steve Rogers.”
Happy nodded but made no effort to hold out his hand, “Nice to meet you.”
Steve stammered but paused and continued, “You as well.”
Happy held open the behind the driver’s seat ushering you in before climbing in himself. Steve was not surprised at Happy’s dismissal but more surprised at hearing the name of your parents. He let himself in and could tell you had exchanged words with Happy before he opened the door.
“Happy,” your voice sounded harder now. “Please give myself and Steve a moment alone if you don’t mind.”
Happy said nothing but the partition between the front and back came up leaving you alone with Steve.
“Steve I can explain,” you began.
“So you’re the daughter of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts-Stark? Why didn’t you tell me that especially on the plane? That’s the stuff I kind of needed to know.”
“I don’t go around telling people my parentage because they always want things or to meet my parents. That’s why I changed my last name when I moved to New York. I wanted to do things on my own.”
Steve huffed, “On your own? Like your apartment and tricking me into a book deal?”
Anger surged through you, “You really don’t want to go there with me Steve.”
Steve mumbled under his breath but you had no desire to fight him especially given that you had no doubt Happy was listening in for information to pass to your father. Tense silence settled in the car as the landscape rushed by and you just hoped you could survive the weekend.
Steve Rogers is without a doubt the biggest pain in your ass that you’ve ever met. After years as his assistant you aren’t prepared for the curveball he throws you and the weekend that’ll change everything between you.
