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physicalturian · 4 years ago

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[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 5

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 6269 Archive of our own

Warning : Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control / Stranger / Flirting / Aftercare / Awkwardness … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

You: Sup doc, got home safely?

[You sent an attachment]

I chuckled for a second, making myself laugh at the picture of the crazy scientist from Back to the Future I had sent. Then when I looked at it more than five seconds, I just regretted it. “I should have flirted. I should have asked him if he was free soon. But I did that. Wow.” Gathering my stuff, I was expecting him to be asleep but received an answer in no time.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’ll admit it’s creative real first text. But don’t send me that shit again, I’m not an old man.

You: Hey, it’s hilarious. You mad because you asked me to call you doc and now you regret it.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I just hope you won’t see that in your head when you’ll think of me, it can easily become a turn off, I think.

You: Damn, what if I’m into older men?

Trafalgar Law 😷: Lucky for you I’m older, then. Why are you still awake?

Trafalgar Law 😷: You should sleep, it’s late and you seemed tensed the entire evening.

You: You’re worried about me? How cute, I thought you were just looking to dick me down.

You: But I’m going to sleep soon, don’t worry hot stuff, I was just showering before bed.

You: Who knows, maybe I’ll dream of you 😉

I read my message over, and over and as I saw him type and stop a few times I was quick to send another one.

You: Yeah, ignore that. I’m tired, I’m not pushy promised. But you should sleep too, beauty sleep and all.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Depending on the kind of dreams you’re having, I’ll gladly join you.

Trafalgar Law 😷: You’re cute. I’ll sleep in a few. I still have some things to do, I’ll be sure to send you a text in the morning to ask you what you dreamed of.

You: Right, bold of you to assume I remember my dream. And that I’d share them with you.

You: But please go to bed, it’s getting super late.

[Trafalgar Law 😷sent an attachment]

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’m in bed, don’t worry.

It was stupid, but I did laugh. He was sitting against his pillows, the simple black bed panel behind him. His hair was a lot messier than usual, but he did not look sleepy one bit. And he was still wearing his dress shirt, which clearly was in no way a pajama.

You: Funny. You’re a funny guy Trafalgar Law, wow. You’re lucky you’re hot

You: You’re still fully dressed, that’s not going to sleep to me.

Trafalgar Law 😷: If you want to see me naked so bad, you have to work for it.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I did say I’d enjoy you on your knees, it seems like a good place to start. But, all in due time, right?

Chuckling at his text, I bid him a good night without replying to his innuendo which was more than an innuendo, really. Hopefully, an unspoken promise of a goodtime. I left the bathroom feeling a bit funny inside and put the toy away before sitting back on the bed. I was wearing a large shirt so that I could show my legs if the HandSurgeon asked and sat with my legs crossed on the bed before typing.

Edelweiss: Back!

HandSurgeon: Your lap is pretty red; how does it feel?

Edelweiss: it’s alright, a bit sore but I like it, it reminds me of yeah… the discipline so yeah, it’s ok

HandSurgeon: Cute, you enjoyed it quite a lot. Maybe you could take more next time if you feel like it.

HandSurgeon: But it’d mean you’d have disobeyed, which you won’t do. Correct?

Edelweiss: yes, I won’t. Sorry…

HandSurgeon: It’s alright, doll.

HandSurgeon: Is there something you enjoyed more this session? Or did not at all?

Trying to remember the things he had said during the session, I was going to tell him that everything was good until I remembered that small thing he said, that I did not particularly enjoy. I didn’t know if he was going to tell me to just get on with it and try to enjoy it or anything but trusting he wouldn’t get mad I wrote down.

Edelweiss: I really enjoyed your voice… that’s for sure but I didn’t enjoy being called a bitch in heat?

Edelweiss: it was alright right now though, but I don’t know, I didn’t vibe.

Edelweiss: sorry if you’re more of a degrader than praiser

HandSurgeon: I am sorry, I am indeed more used to be a bit rougher with my partner. I’ll be more careful next time, don’t hesitate to tell me if you don’t like something I do.

HandSurgeon: This is an exchange, we’re both in to enjoy it and have fun. And while I usually degrade, I am very much enjoying telling you how good you are. Even more so seeing how well you react.

HandSurgeon: You did good telling me your color, very good.

HandSurgeon: I believe edging was not in your list, but how did you enjoy it?

Edelweiss: soooo frustrating! And embarrassing to beg alright? But in a good way I guess… a very good way

Pondering a bit more, I was curious. If we were giving feedbacks and asking questions, I could give it a go.

Edelweiss: were you annoyed? That I touched myself.

HandSurgeon: Yes. I was. If I had you next to me, I would have brought you to my bed. I would have had you kneeling in the center, with that egg still inside you. The had you stripped down naked and would have looked at you. If you had moved, I’d strike you down. Simple.

HandSurgeon: You’d be begging in no time, really.

Edelweiss: it does sound kinda interesting though

Edelweiss: I’d definitely be up to it if you’d enjoy it

HandSurgeon: I’m sure you’d take it like very well, adding a blindfold to the mix would be even better.

HandSurgeon: You wouldn’t know when I’d strike. Jumping on the bed at the littlest touch. Goosebumps all over that pretty body of yours.

HandSurgeon: Running the tip of my whip over your skin. Barely grazing it. Then gripping the back of your neck and sliding my fingers through your hair. Pulling your head back to see that needy face of yours.

I wanted to read more of him, see what else he’d do to me. I wanted to do something again. While my sex was sore, I could also feel the throbbing coming back and fuck was I ready to ask him if he had time to do it again. My body must have been moving on the screen, since I saw the new message from the dom.

HandSurgeon: Stop fidgeting. There won’t be another session tonight, doll. I have to finish working, and you…

HandSurgeon: Well, you need to eat something and drink some water. Go get some food. We can hang up if you want, or you can leave the camera on. I would not mind the little motivation of seeing my girl on the screen.

Edelweiss: I won’t stay long, I have classes tomorrow. Lemme grab some food, I’ll be right there!

Edelweiss: but admit it, you just want to make sure I eat and drink 👀

HandSurgeon: I do indeed. Now, go.

We then spent around 20 minutes on the call. I stayed with my camera on, still making sure he could not see my face, and ate up. He would reply a bit more slowly than during our session, since he was working, but when he did it was a lot lighter than usual. We talked of our lives, previous partners, preferences but it quickly turned to other topics. TV shows we enjoyed or had in common, hobbies, pets.

I learnt he liked to sketch, mostly people, he never did art school and never wanted to but loved the human anatomy. He said he found it fascinating. I felt flattered when he suggested we find some free time so that he could draw me. I told him I’d think about it, then we changed topics but kept off the more personal ones, such as family, school and city. The less we knew, the better. It was weird, getting to know him after I had let him do as he pleased with me. But doing so made it more interesting for some reason.

I did not feel anything much for the man, but I enjoyed his company a lot. I had no plan of meeting him at all, and if I ever found someone, I’d probably stop talking to him, which is something we both agreed on. This was just to get off, this was simply to both find that pleasure of having the power dynamic in play. It was interesting, and I never thought I’d be doing this but here I was, having hung up on a stranger I should call my dom. Here I was, exhausted after masturbating for him. Following each of his instruction.

Having had a taste of that side I had never ventured on, I realized I liked it a lot and I could see myself doing it more from time to time. Maybe not all the time, but in bed it was so intriguing.

I surprised myself as I laid under my covers, slowly drifting to sleep, when a thought crossed my mind, I wonder if Law would do that… I shook the thought away, but it came back just as strong, I was curious. He would look at me with the same look he gave me all night, intrigued and yet clearly expecting all those reactions of me. Knowing what he was doing, knowing the effect he had on me. Whatever I’d say, he wouldn’t be surprised, as if he could read me. He’d ask me those same questions he did that night, trying to get me riled up and I would let him. Would I imagine him as that man from online?

Would I secretly be hoping he would be that good? Would I let him do as he pleased with me? Was I even going to go on a date with him? This last question had an answer already, we both hardly had any free time. I don’t believe we had the same schedule either, it’d be too hard. But I’d entertain the idea, it was fun. I was slightly excited if it did happen, after all he was attractive. And I could use the kind of fun he was suggesting, considering all the stress we must both be under.

Turning in bed, I pulled my phone from under my pillow and texted Law.

You: You better be asleep old doc, because I am hitting the sac. And ignoring your last text at the same time.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Shall I take that as a “no”?

You: Definitely not, but I want to know if your personality is as hot as your face, first.

You: For scientific purposes

Trafalgar Law 😷: Luckily, I did pretty well in sciences. I’ll help with your research then.

You: That means I can call you partner? Pardner 🤠 in research of a fun time

Trafalgar Law 😷: Partner of fun, if you want. Pardner, no.

You: Dagnabbit, sad cowboy noise.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I think you need sleep, partner.

You: I definitely do, good night pardner. You should sleep too, you looked fucking tired tonight.

[Trafalgar Law 😷 sent an attachment]

You: it’s pitch black?

Trafalgar Law 😷: Because I’m trying to sleep, and you keep messaging me.

You: no one’s forcing you to answer 😏 but good night pardner

Trafalgar Law 😷: Good night

I did fall asleep soon after. It was a miracle I managed to keep the conversation that long considering how tired I was and yet I was able to exchange, albeit embarrassingly, with the hot guy. I did not know why I had sent him a message- who am I kidding I know why I did that. Not only was I in that post-orgasm daze but also, this little voice in my head kept considering him as a potential something.

That something was yet to be determined, booty call? Romantic partner? Sex friend? I did not know yet, the only way to find out was that date. And perhaps, if it went well enough, the after-date part. Which I was excited about, maybe more than the date part.

This time I did not dream of the HandSurgeon, I did however have a dream about Trafalgar Law. It was not as hot as the one I had the night before… But it was something…

In that dream, I had called him out of boredom while working on some stuff, and he had picked up mildly annoyed. But even though he was annoyed, he kept me on the line while making his way to his office and closed the door behind him.

Then the mood changed, the ambiance too, the lights got slightly darker and suddenly I found myself in his office. He was leaning on his desk, arms crossed across his chest and seemingly expectant. I saw myself approach him with determination, I was but a spectator to that whole scene. I stopped right in front of him and let him grab my hands before he pulled them behind his back and turned me around so that I was now the one against the desk.

The view changed and I could see him from up close now, he was looking down at me with a smug smile. I saw his lips moving but could not comprehend what he was saying. His tattooed hand travelled to my neck, gently brushing his thumb over it before grabbing my jaw gently. He spoke again and while I did not know what he said, I felt nervous, and slightly afraid.

I tried to ask him to repeat, and maybe I did but I could not hear myself. He leaned forward and let his other hand graze the skin under my shirt before whispering. “Edelweiss… my sweet and pretty toy. So good for me.” I let my head fall back in pleasure from his touches but the constant feeling of confusion and fear only grew. I tried to understand why I was feeling like that, among the joy I felt upon hearing his word. Then it clicked.

He doesn’t know about Edelweiss- he’s not that man, he shouldn’t know.

Now I’m in my bed. Looking at a screen, I can see someone on that screen, but I can’t see it really. Then I understand who it is, HandSurgeon, but this time it’s Trafalgar Law. “You want us to be the same.”

“You wish I was real, you’re so desperate for this to happen with me, with him, we’re the same to you, Edelweiss. You should think, wake up, realize that you’re making a mistake, wake up, we can’t be the same, wake up, you just want it so bad-“

“Wake up!” I was startled awake by Nami, who was looking at me angrily, already fully dressed. “Jesus, did last night tire you that bad?” How could she know what I had done last night? She wasn’t even home- Trying to come up with anything, I was too sleepy to be embarrassed, then she spoke and cleared my mind. “You know, if I had known socializing with Traffy would tired you that much, I would have brought him over a lot sooner. Maybe you’d finally catch some real sleep.” She explained as she kept her gaze on my, probably, sleep-marks adorned face.

Sighing, she pulled the covers off my form without a second thoughts when I was unresponsive to her words. “This time you have more than 5 minutes to get ready but move your ass or I’ll leave you there. Come on, hurry.” She stopped by the door and made a compassionate face, “By the way, don’t worry, he exhausts me too. It’s the smug face and the condescending attitude that just-“ she made a sounds with her tongue against her teeth, “it ticks me off, you know?” She was gone right after.

Looking at the doorway longer than I wanted to, I started drifting off to sleep when I was startled awake once more. My phone was ringing, and I was very much aware it was not my alarm. Stretching my arm to the bed table, I grabbed my phone and was surprised when I read the screen and saw it was Trafalgar Law. I picked up in confusion, “What do you want?” With the sleepiness and the confusion, my tone ended up being a bit more aggressive than I expected.

“How about you start with good morning?” I heard him chuckle, he was probably proud of that too. Rolling my eyes, I let my head fall back on the pillow and spoke again, “Good morning, do you need something?” I sighed and pulled my covers back on my form, hearing the blinker of his car in the background I guessed he was driving and was paying more attention to the road.

“Good morning, did I perhaps wake you up?” He asked rhetorically but I could hear the smile on his lips. All I did was hum in return, still waiting for the reason he called me. “I’m free this Thursday, how does it sound for those… research?” He seemed reticent saying it, probably rolling his eyes at how stupid it sounded. Laughing in my throat in return, it was not charming but the way he said it made it too funny for my dazed state. “Too shy to call it a date? I need to check my schedule; I don’t know if I’m free.” Thinking he’d hang up, I instead heard him talk to someone before talking to me again.

“Then go ahead and check, I’ll wait.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and rummaged through something while I checked on my phone, mumbling. “Can’t you let a girl sleep? Don’t you have a work to get to?” I opened the calendar but kept grumbling while doing so, “You’re lucky I’m not hanging up to go back to sleep.” While checking my schedule, I double checked if there was a time I could be free on Thursday and heard Law scoff.

He huffed a laugh, “I think you’d have hung up by now if you did not want to talk to me, I don’t think it’s luck, but interest.” Then a sigh as he got a bit more serious, “Just answer the question, I have to get going.”

Scoffing, I brought the phone back to my ear, “You’re just a pretty face for now, Doc. Don’t bet on interest just yet. Now, I’m free around 2 pm that day, if that’s cool with you. But add like half an hour or so, it gives me time to get back home.”

“Give me the address of your campus, I’ll come and get you there.” I heard the sound of the car door being slammed closed in the background, and the rustle of a bag. “I’m not about to refuse a car ride, it’s a bit odd but thank you!” I quickly sat up, suddenly feeling excited for my plans on Thursday. “Don’t expect me to be dressed all chic though, if I have classes in the morning, it’ll be comfortable and only slightly fashion.” I said lightly as I made my way to my wardrobe to start getting dressed for the day.

“Give me a moment.” I heard the phone being moved a bit, a few muffled voices greeting the man, footsteps echoing on the ground accompanied by the hubbub of phones ringing, beeping sounds and people talking. While waiting, I was able to get dressed and go back to my desk to prepare my stuff. After a few minutes, I finally heard him. “You were talking about your clothes, to be honest as long as it’s easy to remove, we’re good.” He said smoothly, I could hear the smirk, the smugness in his voice.

I simply looked at the phone with surprise and pleasantness. That was interesting to say the least, and I was enjoying it. “You’re not saying anything, I’m assuming you agree. Good, then I’ll see you on Thursday? Don’t be afraid to send me pictures if you’re curious about what clothes to wear, I’d gladly help you pick.” I had to stand my ground, he was too smooth. Too much, too flirty, too… familiar…?

“Just for that, I’ll wear the most intricate clothes I have. Make it worth your while, you know?” While his laugh was beautiful, it was also condescending. I kept having mixt feelings about the man. “Well, if I am in a hurry, know that I am very skilled with sharp tools, and I’d have no shame in tearing your pretty clothes apart.” The sound of the creaking chair in the background made me think he was probably leaning back on his chair. A quick thought crossed my mind, of going up to him and sitting on his lap and seeing what he’d do, but I shoved that thought away.

Instead, I huffed in response and threw my bag over my shoulder. I tried to come up with a witty reply, making lame sounds with my mouth, but I had no matching energy. Even less this early in the morning. “Alright, sure, you win. I was not going to wear anything intricate anyway, even I’m too lazy for that. Casual it is, so don’t go looking all professional on me, please. I’ll feel off.”

“Put it on my desk, I’ll be there in a few- it’s an important call, I’m sure he can wait five more minutes… He doesn’t have a choice, tell him to wait… Intern or not you can tell him to wait, how else do you expect to be taken seriously? … Well, tell him I am the one who said that, then, Tony... Right, now go- And close the door behind.” I felt bad eavesdropping like that, it wasn’t a conversation I was meant to hear but it did not seem like any important information had been shared either. Except the fact that he said this was an important call when it clearly was not. It sent pride to my chest.

Walking to the kitchen, I made a motion with my index to my lips to Robin and Nami when they started talking a bit too loud. I pointed at the phone, then wiggled my fingers before drawing an invisible circle on the back of my hand. I tried very hard to make them understand it was Law, but they seemed confused. Instead, I held my phone between my shoulder and my ear and spelled Law with both of my hands. This time they understood, I knew it from the huge grin on their face.

“We got interrupted, sorry about that. If you feel intimated by a professional look, I guess we’ll have to drop by my place before going on that date. Do tell me if you’d rather I keep the medical coat-“ Cutting him off, I needed to set things straight. “Hey, I never said that was my cup of tea, okay? And I’m not intimidated, I’m sure you’re rocking the look- “ I never sighed more loudly than at this very moment when Nami snatched the phone from my hand, and said, “Alright asshole, time’s up, you’ve had time to work your charm… no I’m not doing that”

Robin butted in next to the microphone and said, “She’s all flustered, Traffy, good work!” I went to grab it back from the ginger’s hands but the stepped back and exchanged a few words with Law before handing me my phone back with a bright smile. Bringing it back to my ear, I rushed back to the corridor to avoid them eavesdropping more than they did in the kitchen.

“Sorry about them- for your outfit, wear whatever you want. I truly have no say in what you’re going to wear, plus you’ll look hot with whatever you pick so, it’s a win-win.” I quickly said, earning a laugh from the man on the other side. “I’d love to see your face right now, Robin did say you were flustered. Guess we’ll have to wait until Thursday.” He hummed, his tone having some finality to it. I knew it was my cue to hang up.

“I wasn’t flustered, I- at best embarrassed- no wait that sounds worst doesn’t it? Anyway, see you on Thursday! Have fun at work, bye.” I waited until he bid me goodbye before hanging up. As I put my phone away, I leaned against the wall and sighed, letting my head hit the wall. “Are you okay?” Robin’s soft voice reached my ears, she was making her way towards me with a slight smile. Probably feeling a bit bad for going along Nami’s childish attitude only moments ago.

Humming, I gave her a nod. But the words that followed were not matching the actions. “He’s like, very hot. And I really want to fuck him, right? But he’s also pretty funny, and good at flirting?”

Squinting her eyes, Robin asked, “Is that a question… or?”

“No, no, it’s facts and it confuses me! I was ready to just, hook up, but he could be more- I don’t know maybe I’m desperate.” I simply shrugged, leaving a silence between the black-haired woman and me.

Looking up at her, she seemed to be thinking. Then she smiled, she was always the one with good advice but also a helpless romantic. “It’s a good thing isn’t it? You don’t need to worry too much, that date of yours will help you see if you’re really interested in him or not! If not, you’ll have great sex- if yes, you’ll still have great sex, and another date.” I groaned in reply, running a hand through my hair before giving her a short nod.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just- live my life until then, I have other things to do than think of a man. By the way are you home tonight?” I asked her as we walked back to the kitchen where Nami was nowhere to be found, there was simply a piece of paper with the words ‘bring your ass to the car’.

Chuckling lightly, Robin shook her head. “I have to stay late at the library. Then Franky agreed to let me stay at his place, since it’s closer.” We talked a bit as we made our way to the door, where she wave me goodbye before closing the door gently behind me.

When I was back in the car, Nami had one of her earbuds on and was talking more gently than she’d usually talk to someone. Which means she was talking to Vivi. I did not interrupt and instead grabbed my phone and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

HandSurgeon: Are you feeling better? Don’t forget to stay hydrated, I’ll be a bit busy this week, but I can find time if you’d like.

Edelweiss: shit, just saw your message! Sorry, crazy morning. I am definitely sore, but it’s good, I can move so there’s that!

Edelweiss: Also, I might be a bit away from Wednesday to Friday, I am seeing someone and knowing how our session leave me pretty sore, I’d rather you know…

Edelweiss: be in good shape

Edelweiss: for a good fun

Edelweiss: a good fuck

This time, I did not have a prompt reply. I put my phone away and it’s only halfway through my day, while I was working on something at the library, that I received a reply from him. I’ll admit, I had been expectant the entire morning for an answer. I had been deep in textbooks for so long, I was craving for any sort of interaction, from anyone. Which explained the speed at which I unlocked my phone to see the text from HandSurgeon, and even one from Trafalgar Law.

I hesitate for a moment, then opened discord.

HandSurgeon: It’s fine, you are allowed to have a life you know. Simply tell me if you want to stop this, or not, you know… if your someone is not the one and you still need a good fuck.

HandSurgeon: I will also be busy on Thursday, I’ll try to send you a text if I get some free time.

HandSurgeon: I just finished a long meeting, would you be up for a fun game?

I stared at his messages, feeling a bit excited suddenly. But knowing myself, I would say yes, so I had to answer to Law first before spending my time sexting the stranger.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’m sorry we had to cut our conversation short, how was class? I have a bit of free time, if you’d like to talk about our research meeting.

You: That’s actually pretty cute, thought you were just a horny piece of meat but damn, you surprise me.

You: I am still on campus, drowning in work. I’d love to talk, but I need to focus, text me later? 🤠

Going back on discord, I felt strange. I wanted to say yes, to play his game, but it felt wrong for some reason. I was double texting and it felt like I was cheating on a man I was not even dating. I ignored the thought and typed back.

Edelweiss: I kinda wanna know, but also really need to get back to work. So, I’ll have to decline.

Edelweiss: But I’m curious, what was the game?

HandSurgeon: It’s quite alright, I was going to suggest you’d take a pretty picture for me no matter who was around. But you are busy, so I’ll leave you be. Focus on your work. I’ll talk to you later.

HandSurgeon: But for ‘emotional support’, I’ll give you this:

HandSurgeon : [sent an attachment]

I snorted at his words, and smiled when he sent me a picture of his gloved hand gripping the wheel of his car tightly. I did comment on wearing gloves while driving, even though they were not medical gloves and it had some charm, it was very movie-like. And suspicious.

After that, I put my phone down and got lost in work. I did not even see time fly by, what informed me that it was indeed a few hours later than I thought, was the grumbling of my stomach. “I think it’s time to call it a day.” I mumbled while packing everything up. With the books put back where they belonged and my laptop tucked away, I made my way outside and was walking through the parking lot when I saw a familiar mop of hair making its way towards me.

I suddenly felt self-conscious and straightened my back before meeting his gaze and frowning in confusion. “Are you stalking me?” I patted my pockets in emphasis, before saying “Did you put a chip somewhere, or-“ Law shook his head as if I was being crazy. “Bro, it’s super super sus that you’re at my campus when I never gave you the address-“

“I asked Robin. I was going to ask Nami but she wouldn’t have given me anything.” He explained as if it was obvious.

Looking around, I opened my mouth and closes it a few times. It was a bit awkward. “Why are you here, then?” I asked, still confused, my eyes squint in suspicion.

“Right- give me a moment.” He turned around and took a few long strides to get to his car and get something from the passenger seat before coming back. Even though his steps were hurried, there was still this elegance to it that I could not ignore.

“I am very familiar with long hours of studying, so here’s a drink and some food. I used to skip meals, because I’d get too much into it. Don’t do that, eat.” While what he said seemed caring, he was not smiling or anything. But the gesture was so sweet I couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s very nice of you,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear jokingly in faux-shyness before going back to a normal demeanor. “But I was going home. I was done for the day, here,” I handed it back to him before trying to find my wallet in my bag. “Let me, just- how much do I owe you?”

He stopped me from rummaging through my back and ruffled my hair before handing me the drink and food back. “Nothing, I was passing by. Now I am sure to not get lost when I’ll come and get you on Thursday.” He winked, then looked back at his watch a moment. He seemed to ponder something for a moment, before looking up at me. “Would you like me to drop you off at your house? I have a bit of time before going back to work.” He asked kindly, showing me his keys as if trying to coo me.

“Maybe you should go eat too? I’ll take the bus, it’s alright.” Smiling, the man pointed at his car with a certain pride. “Oh don’t worry, I got myself something too. It could be our first lunch date, you are so bent on traditions, so why not lunch?”

I felt my cheeks heat up and pushed him playfully, careful not to spill the drink I had in my hand. “I’m not bent on traditions, I just barely know you, doc.” I looked to the side and shrugged before walking past him, “Let’s get lunch.” I said over my shoulder. I heard the man laugh in the back, then the jingle of keys.

I tried to open the door but found it locked. I stated the obvious, “I can’t get in if it’s locked.” I was about to complain more, when he leaned over his side of the car and grinned. “Ask politely, and I’ll let you in.” I hated him, but the smile on my face was a betrayal of how I really felt. He was a little shit, but it was still fun. Rolling my eyes, I mimicked his action and rested my arms on the roof of the car, “Could you please unlock the car, doc?” “Good girl, was it that hard?”

I turned my head towards him so fast I may have pulled a muscle in my neck, but the way he said it made it a lot more than just a nickname. He was testing the waters for something, and I had given him the exact reaction he wanted. “What, do I call you daddy now?” I said sarcastically while getting inside the car and buckling my seatbelt while he held everything before placing them back on my lap.

“Not my thing, but I’m sure we’ll get to that conversation later.” He smirked as he put something in the glove box before closing it back and meeting my intense gaze as he leaned back on his seat. I was observing each and everyone of his action, feeling out of place in his car. I had met the man last night, but for some reason he felt familiar. Perhaps it was his aura, perhaps he was just that reassuring. No, clearly not, he looks threatening… “Something on your mind? I don’t know if you’re looking at me like you want kill me or fuck me,” Extending his hand towards me, he placed his index under my chin and lifted it, I quickly grabbed his hand like last time to stop him.

“Maybe both, maybe none-“ With a short smile, he interrupted me, “Don’t be like that, I’ll ask differently. Are you uncomfortable? I haven’t done this in a while, so I’m trying to take it slow…ish.” He admitted. I could see on his face he was feeling just as sheepish as I was. Clasping my hands on my lap I chuckled nervously, “I’m good, I was just…. Observing. You’re doing good, simply put…” I trailed off and met his gaze with a playful grin, “Ye’re a looker pardner,” I then tipped my non-existent hat, which made him laugh genuinely.

“You were just in awe?” He asked a bit surprised, hiding his bashfulness behind a laugh. “Exactly, take the compliment and don’t mention it again. Now drive, or you’ll get back late at work.” I huffed, looking at the window with warm cheeks. I felt a pull at my hand and looked at it confused, “I’d love to, but you’re still holding my hand.” I quickly let go and threw his hand back at him, “It was to make sure you weren’t going to do the whole,” Making a gesture with my hands in the air, wiggling my fingers, I continued, “Chin thing again.”

Even though he agreed, only giving me a curt nod along with a “Right.”, I could see the smile on his face as he started the car. Looking at him from the corner of my eyes, I matched his smile discretely as I looked back at the road.

The volume of the music wasn’t loud, I could hear the fabric of his coat as he maneuvered, the blinkers, my own nervous heartbeat. There was no reason for me to feel so nervous, we were just going to eat lunch then go our separate way. To try to calm down, I rummaged through my brain for topics to talk about, small talks was fun in social events but in one on one, it was a fucking disaster.

Do you have any pets? Do you like cats? Maybe talk about his job? How long did he study? Or funny topics, less social, more creative? Politics is off the table, it’s not that great of a first date conversation. What’s your favourite colour? What part of your body to your prefer-

I blurted out a question to try to fill the silence. And fuck did I regret it, I shouldn’t be allowed to speak when in that state, but it was too late. “So… what’s your favourite body part?” Wait, no, fuck, not…

[Part 6]

#trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #physicalturian #words of pleasure #wop #fanfiction #one piece #law one piece #law x reader #ao3 #ao3 writer #physicalturian AO3 #writing #writings

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt #15 Danbrey if you're feeling up to it! (NSFW or SFW! Your choice!) Hope you're having a nice day :)

Thank you! I went with SFW

Prompt 15: Nymph

Normally, Aubrey would obey the “no fires” warning sign at the edge of the woods. Both because she’s all about respecting nature and also she doesn’t want another safety lecture from Duck. Her roommate needs to study in their dorm, and she really, really needs to practice this set of tricks for her show in a few weeks.

The card and sleight of hand tricks go well, but when she segues into her fire illusions it all goes wrong. All her flash paper gets tangled in a vine that swears wasn’t there a minute ago and any time she generates so much as a spark a bunch of leaves fly into her face.

“Ugh, come on, work with me here.”

“No.”

She spins around and discovers a tree is talking to her.

“Please work with me here?”

Golden eyes appear in the trunk, “No. You’re using fire. In the woods. The very flammable woods. So, sorry, but as long as I’m around you don’t get to run around throwing sparks.” The voice moves closer and Aubrey understands her eyes were playing tricks on her; it’s a young woman about her age who, up until a moment ago, was camouflage against the tree trunk. Her hair fades from speckled brown to blonde, and her skin is broken up in markings of different colors. Aubrey vaguely remembers Duck telling her that was how some predators avoid being seen in the forest, and wonders if she should be worried rather than noticing how her audience of one looks cute even with her arms crossed in annoyance.

“I’m sorry, I just really need to practice for my magic show because if I bomb it’s gonna suck and no one will ever book me again. So like, what if I promise to keep the sparks small?”

The woman shakes her head. Before Aubrey can react, branches reach down and pick up all her supplies, dangling them out of reach.

“Hey!”

“I’m not giving them back unless you say you’ll stop with the fire.”

“It’s flash paper, it barely produces any sparks at all!” She jumps, misses her deck of cards, jumps again and promptly collides with her tormentor, sending them both to the ground.

“Oops.” She tries on her best smile as the woman blinks up at her. Pink flowers bloom up her arms, which is just so fucking cool.

“Are you, like, a wood nymph or something?”

“I’m a dryad, but I think humans just call anyone who lives in the trees nymphs, so that works too.”

“That’s amazing. I wish I could do real magic. Maybe not plant magic because of my whole persona, but any kind would be super rad. Oh!” she sits up, allowing the nymph to do the same, “I know, what if you stayed and watched me practice? That way if the sparks land somewhere they shouldn’t, you can just smoosh them out like you have been. Or we could take turns doing tricks? Not that, like, your magic is like a parlor trick, but more like we could each take turns showing off? What do you think?”

“I think…” the nymph toys with a strand of hair, which shimmers to light green as she walks past a new stand of shrubs, “I think I’m not doing a great job chasing you off. But I also don’t think I want to?” She gives Aubrey a shy smile, “will you do that trick with the rings again?”

Aubrey does a mental fist-pump as her supplies are once again within reach, “You got it.”

----------------------------------------------------

“Dani, look!” Aubrey holds the pet carrier up to the tree, “I brought my assistant to meet you.”

“Wrong tree, Aubrey.” The nymph appears to her right.

“Dang. I thought I was getting better at spotting you.”

“You’ve done it on the first try twice this week, which is better than basically any other human has ever done.” They sit on the grass, which thanks to Dani’s intervention no longer irritates Aubrey’s skin or has unwanted bugs in it. She reaches into the carrier, rubbing the white rabbit’s nose “this is Dr. Harris Bonkers, right?”

“Yep! Thank you for using his full name; he worked hard for the diploma.”

Dani laughs in a way that suggests she understands this is a joke but not what the joke is.

“Do you want to let him out? He could nibble grass while we talk.”

“Um, I mean, he’d love that. Right up until something ate him.”

“Here, I have an idea.” Dani twirls a finger, sending up walls and ceilings out of woven branches until she, Aubrey, and the rabbit are in a beautiful gazebo of greenery.

“Wow.” Aubrey whispers as Dr. Harris Bonkers leaves his carrier to happily munch the grass and clover.

Dani scoots closer, “Hey, Aubrey, what’s your favorite flower?”

“I like, um, I think they’re called Penstemons? I also really like cherry blossoms but they’re not in-” The entire roof of the gazebo explodes in pink petals, “season.”

Dani winks, sending the walls into bloom with bright red and deep orange flowers, “they are now.”

----------------------------------------------------------

“Can I open my eyes yet?” The nymph sits on a tree-stump, fingernails still painted deep green from two nights ago. She and Aubrey spent until about two in the morning in the nymphs’ house, since she wanted to see how human sleepovers differed from dryad ones. Aubrey suspects they both played up how much cuddling between attendees was normal for the sake of being closer.

“Not yet, lemme just get this--hah, okay, you can look now!”

Dani uncovers her face and daffodils burst through the ground at her feet.

Aubrey smirks, spins in her new stage outfit: a satin, flame red top, black jacket, black skirt, sparkly red fishnets, and her Doc Martens, “ta dah!”

“Wow.” Dani sighs, but says nothing else, making Aubrey a little self-conscious

“It really looks good?”

“It looks amazing, fireblossom. No one will be able to take their eyes off you.”

The nickname makes Aubrey’s face match her shirt, “Are you sure you don’t want to come? We could, like, get you a seat in a corner or something so no one would notice you look a little plant-like.”

“I wish I could, Aubrey. But I’ve got work to tend to out here. Plus, I’d be so excited to see you up there, impressing everyone, that I’d fill the whole theater with roses before I knew what I was doing.”

“Good point.” Aubrey sags a little; she’s so pumped for the show, but all she can think about is proving to Dani that all her time practicing in front of her paid off.

“Hey” Dani hops up from her seat, cups one of Aubrey’s cheeks and kisses the other one. It tingles, like rubbing a mint leaf between her fingertips, “good luck tonight.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The show goes better than expected. There are some hiccups in her first two tricks, but her friends are in the front row and cheer her on as she gets the hang of things. By the time she hits her fiery finale, she has the crowd eating out of the palm of her hand like they’re Dr. Harris Bonkers.

“You did great!” Duck bear hugs her in the green room as Barclay hands her flowers.

“Glad you think so! And, um, thanks you guys. It means a lot that you gave up your Saturday night to come see my act.”

“You know we’d never miss it” Mama hugs her, “we;re so proud of you kiddo, forging your own path like this.”

“And it seems we are not the only ones who enjoyed the show. Look.” Indrid holds up a second bouquet. Tucked among the pink blooms is a card reading “fireblossom.”

“That from the gal you were tellin me about?”

“Yeah” Aubrey cradles the bunch of cherry blossom stems, “she couldn’t make it tonight but, um, I hope she can meet you guys soon. I think you’ll like her. Especially you, Duck, she’s super into plants.”

“Right on. Now, who’s up for some celebratoryholyshit” Duck stops abruptly in the door, “y’all, come look at this.”

The venue has several windows, since during the day it’s a cafe. One of these windows, with a clear view of the stage, is wreathed in honeysuckle. Stranger still is the path of flowers and leaves trailing from the crosswalk, down the opposite sidewalk, and into one of the pedestrian only paths that leads to the green belt around campus.

“Barclay?”

“Yeah, Aubrey?”

“Please put these in a vase for me.” Aubrey hands him her bouquets and sprints out the door, a rainbow of petals coating her shoes as she runs. Soon there are no streetlights to help her navigate, just the starlight and the river of greenery beneath her feet.

“Dani!”

The nymph, coaxing an ailing Elm back to health, turns in surprise. Aubrey throws her arms around her, ever changing hair catching in her face and mottled green dress soft under her hands.

“You came.”

Dani snickers, “what gave it away? The fact it looked like a meadow exploded downtown?”

Aubrey giggles, pulling back to bump their noses together, “Yeah. Just...what made you change your mind.”

The nymph caresses her cheek, fingers coming away glittering from her make-up, “I couldn’t stay away. I saw all the work that went into your act and, and I, uh, I’m also just so into you, fireblossom. I wanted to be there for you, even if I wasn’t in the room.”

Aubrey’s heart threatens to burst out of her chest. To keep that from happening, she pulls Dani into a kiss. The nymph laughs against her mouth, cups the back of her head and holds her there, teasing her tongue between her lips when Aubrey parts them. By the time they separate to breathe, the taste of orange blossoms is on her tongue and her fingers are tangled in gold-green strands of hair.

“Um, you can totally say no to this, but my friends and I are meeting at Mama’s place to celebrate the show going well. There would only be a few of us, and they’re all pretty chill.”

Dani tucks a flower behind Aubreys ear, “I’d love too, fireblossom. But first…” she grabs Aubrey, spinning and dipping her into another kiss, so deep that the stars in her eyes outshine the ones in the sky.

When the nymph guides her back up, both of them laughing in their embrace and all Aubrey can think to say is, “wow.”

#danbrey #aubrey little/dani #monster march #taz amnesty

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deliriousgeek · 5 years ago

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She’s the Alpha (Owen Grady x Reader) .7

Masterlist:

Okay! Finally up to date! I’m so excited for chapter 8. Also, if you were expecting Owen and Yn meeting right away, my apologies. Yes this is a Owen x Yn fanfic buttt I really want to set up her position in the story. Don’t worry tho! Owen will be here very soon. So stay tuned! Enjoy <3

p.s. lemme know if you wanna be tagged :)

Chapter 7

My Apologies Ma’am

She couldn't believe her eyes. The monorail zoomed into the main part of the park. The ride started from the docs and passed all the way through a lush green forest, from there it went over a deep blue lake.

A lake?

(Y/n) had opted for a window seat. This way she could take in the gorgeous view of the tropical landscape. To say the island was beautiful would to be an understatement, it was absolutely breathtaking. (Y/n) almost entirely forgot the reason she was here.

You're not here to vacation, you're here to review.

Reprimanding herself (Y/n) pulled out her journal and began writing her discoveries. The park had a promising future. The main theme of the park, dinosaurs, had yet to be seen and visitors would still be enthralled with the landscape that served as a teasing preview of what was yet to come.

A light bustle of conversation filled the monorail once the conductor had announced over the PA system they would be entering the park. On Y/n's lap sat her journal, a gift from her father. (Y/n) tried to jot down the feelings and sights she was absorbing, but was slowly tuning out her thoughts as the PA system spoke.

Claire stood up at the head of the monorail and announced as the monorail went through the refurbished entrance gates. "Ladies and gentlemen welcome to, Jurassic World."

The gates opened and the monorail pushed through. A collective gasp of intrigue was heard through the cabin as the passengers got their first glimpse into the park. The monorail passed over a gorgeous deep blue lake that was said to hold one of the main attractions of the park, the mosasaurus. (Y/n) wrote down in her journal that having the monorail built just outside the mosasaurus exhibit, while being an aesthetically pleasing architect choice, may not have been the most passenger safety option. She also observed that overlooking the mosasaurus lagoon was the hotel and directly under the hotel was a beach. This beach, which was connected to the mosasaurus lagoon, was separated by two fences. Although the fences looked highly durable and built to keep the gigantic reptile from chomping on park goers, it didn't seem like the most viable plan. (Y/n) was sure to mention this to Mr. Masrani once they met.

Nit picking at first sight was not in (Y/n)'s personality, however, after hearing stories of the old unsuccessful park and their death count, she was not willing to over look any details.

The paleontologist side of her began to kick in and she was instantly intrigued by the creature lurking in the depths. How old was it? Was there only one? Did it hunt for itself? How deep was the pool?

Y/n would ask all these questions once she met with Mr. Masrani himself, which would be very soon.

The monorail had come to a slow halt and the passengers were directed off the vehicle into the hotel lobby. Claire was at the head of group announcing the schedule for the day.

"If you'll follow me," She smiled. "Your passes and wrist bands which give you access to the whole park will be in your room. Your rooms will be located on the 25th floor. My assistant Zora will be passing out room keys and numbers." A woman stepped out from behind one of the employee doors with cards in her hand, which she began to pass out accordingly.

Claire spoke again. "Once you receive your keys please feel free to head up to your room for a quick freshen up or roam the park if you wish. The meeting with Mr. Masrani will be held in the Apatosaurus Room in one hour. If you have any questions, I'm all ears." Her sentence ended with a business smile.

Y/n waited her turn for Zora to pass her the room key. After receiving the key and doing a once over of the group, y/n decided it was best to stay away for now and head up to her room.

Upon entering the luxurious hotel room Y/n was greeted with a wonderful view. She was greeted with the nicest scent of a freshly made hotel room which instantly soothed her body from the Isla Nublar heat. Once stepping in the room and shutting the door the AC began working wonders on cooling her heated skin. On top the queen sized bed that sat in the middle of the room laid a tray containing all the necessities for visiting the park. Her luggage was sitting in the corner the room near the entrance onto the veranda. A set of wide, brown-stained, rolling shutter doors blocked off her view from the rest of the park. Noticing the obstruction in her view she promptly set her bag on the bed, slipped off her shoes, and slid the doors open to the balcony.

With a short exhale of breath Y/n was astounded by the grandeur of the island. She could nearly see the entirety of the park. In her direct view the grand, green mountains served as a back drop for everything below. The Innovation Center stood like a beacon in the middle of everything. Leading to the Center was main street, full of shops, restaurants, bars, and things of that nature. To the sides of the street were enclosures, but for what she couldn't see. Observing the enclosures from a far wouldn't help her in determining an opinion on them. Y/n mentally noted that she would have to see those enclosures for herself. They seemed much too small, and Y/n hoped she was very wrong.

Letting her eyes roam over the deep, jungle green of the mountain terrain, Y/n saw a grey, out of place, building. It was nearly the color of rocks and probably could not be seen from the ground level. It was quite a distance away from the park and there were no monorail tracks leading to it. Y/n assumed it had something to do with the operations of the park and wondered if she could have a peak inside. A little digging into the park's business side wouldn't hurt. After all, that's what she was asked to do.

After letting the Costa Rican sun settle into her bones once more Y/n returned to her room, closing the door behind her. She checked her phone for the time and quickly donned herself with one of the passes on the bed and placed everything else in a purse she brought with her. Y/n unloaded only the necessities from her backpack into the purse. Heading to the bathroom of the suite Y/n did a once over in the mirror. Deciding the the humidity of the island was doing her hair no good she took it out of it's current state and redid it into a much more frizz-free style. Before heading out the door she briefly glanced in the mirror then, deeming her appearance business worthy she walked out the door in search of the conference room.

Y/n took the elevator down the lobby in which she asked a receptionist where the Apatosaurus Room was. After being given directions Y/n thanked the woman before heading a lounging area of the lobby. Checking the time again Y/n noted that there wasn't enough time to spare before the meeting to the explore the park. Although, there was time to jot down her first impressions of the it. Sitting down in the lounge area Y/n took her journal out from her purse and began to write.

She didn't write about the interior of the hotel or that there were not mints left on her pillow, but rather on the fact that when looking at the overall view of the park she was not impressed with the size of the enclosures she saw. Concern over powered the beauty of the park, though she did appreciate the island's well landscaped state it was not the reason she came. Concluding her writing with a note that said:

Opinion on enclosures will be revised after further inspection of park.

Y/n closed her journal and stood while placing it back in her purse. While Y/n's vision was occupied by securing her purse, her direction was veered into the path of the man walking opposite of her. With a general sense of direction, lack of attention to his surroundings, and briskly paced walk, the man did not notice the woman slightly shifting into his path either. His focus was entirely absorbed in the files that he held and getting to his meeting on time. Before either of the two could register the collision, Y/n stumbling backwards until she was on the floor. This caused the man's head to snap up then back down to the woman on the floor. Other passers by looked as well. The man's mouth moved quicker than his brain and before he knew it he was offering her a hand and an apology.

He helped her off the floor. "My apologies ma'am. I didn't see you there." When his eyes finally met hers he starred with an almost stunned gaze. Maybe it was the impact from their collision or the sincere gleam in her eyes, either way he nearly forgot how to breathe.

"Oh no sir, the fault is mine. I wasn’t looking where I was going." After dusting herself off and actually securing her purse she looked up and offered him a smile. "Sorry for the inconvenience. I'm in a rush." Noticing his lingering stare she cleared her throat, suddenly feeling like a display looked at through a glass.

Recovering from being stunned, he offered her a weak smile of his own. "I was too-” Realizing he was still late he closed the file, “-am too." He nodded his head. "Sorry again for knocking into you, ma’am. "

She nodded and replied swallowing thickly, her throat suddenly parched, "Right, I gotta go too. So sorry for bumping into you, bye."

"Goodbye ma'am."

Then each walked their separate ways.

Pushing aside the uncomfortable interruption Y/n headed to the meeting. Approaching the halls that led to the conference rooms she began to prepare questions for Mr. Masrani in her head. If there was a time for questions she would be sure to ask them. Seeing a sign that read "Apatosaurus Room: 2:30 Meeting" next to a closed door Y/n made her way to the door, and walked in.

Who's the man? 👀

Lol, see ya next time

@littlegangrel @thebadassbitchqueen

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vanchlo · 4 years ago

Text

The Firsts / #5, “The First Time Without”

*not my gifs*

---> NEXT BLURB: Um, not sure with finals coming up . . Check the series masterlist for updates!

READ THE ASSISTANT, AKA WHAT CAME FIRST

SERIES MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

LEGEND:

+ : a break in the story; a time jump.

and i’m too lazy for italics bc tumblr ignores formatting like that i do in Docs so sorry

WARNINGS: Swearing, distressing topics, hella lotta angst and sadness

WORD COUNT: 16.5k words (WOWZAS!!!)

SONG: Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie (click to listen)

* Sneak PeeEEEK! *

“‘ve rehearsed it so many bloody times in me head, but now, I actually get t’ talk t’ you and I can’t rememba,” he admits softly with shame painting his voice, and an out of place smile.

“All I know . . ‘s that I miss you and it scares me how much I can miss you sittin’ at a meetin’ with you across tha table. I miss you like you’ve gone . . but inna way, you have. I miss you in so many ways, walkin’ in tha door at home t’ you, findin’ you’d claimed me sofa again fer anotha day workin’ t’getha, or even that you’d be usin’ one o’ me favourite coffee mugs or jumpers. I miss those small things, and then, I even miss wakin’ up next t’ you, talkin’ t’ you ‘bout songs, ‘bout art, or gettin’ yer advice on a recipe or an argument inna case. ‘d missed you like mad befo’, but nuthin’ compares t’ this. Didn’t know I could miss somebody so much that ‘m always sore from it, that I ache when I see you and can’t touch you or talk t’ you.”

“Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the ways we expect.”

- Luna Lovegood

“You can only actually help someone who wants to be helped.”

- Jojo Moyes, Me Before You

It smelled of metal and disinfectant around me, but I tried to drown it out with the images I scroll through. The electronic beeping wormed its way into my thoughts, but I welcomed the respite from the chaos toiling around in there. Images of friends and casual strangers litter my Instagram feed and instead of looking away when the dinging stops, I continue, distracting myself. That in itself seems to be my job for the last few weeks, owned by the number one job of not thinking about it. It’s followed by another important task of not crying in public, and saving it for at home despite the place owning that name changing recently. I’ve failed at all of those jobs the second I think about the person who I called my home for so long now, and can’t any longer.

The new smell is what gets me at first, and immediately, the pictures are forgotten. I know before I look up that the facade is broken. Then, everything is shattered within a few moments, no matter how good I’ve gotten at ignoring him, or pushing down the feelings when I see him across the table at a team meeting. I’ve gotten good at the pretending part, but the only person I’ve never been able to do that around is the very one who accompanies me on the elevator now. My bad luck echoes when I finally chance a glance and I leave it for too long, because then he looks up and meets my eyes.

Harry. My home . . but he’s not that any longer.

“Hi,” he risks with a gentle curve of his lips, and a softness in his eyes that he holds in his hands for me too. A softness that never left him once I worked my way into his heart all of those years ago, it’s one that I still can’t allow myself to get rid of.

“Hi,” I return curtly, tearing my eyes away from him, and his new suit. A mauve ensemble with a raven black button up underneath. Spiffy, indeed. It feels like a mini marathon to look away from him in that suit, and how it hugs him in all of the right places. The biceps, the chest, how it opens at his wildly attractive throat, reminds me of the base that we never hit when my eyes venture too low, and his bum. No, I can’t see it from my view right now, but I’d made sure to have seen it earlier today.

“‘s good timin’, I was wonderin’ if we could talk,” he ventures out on a limb to say, and my eyes are rolling before he gets to finish.

“I don’t want to talk, Harry.”

“Becks, please, jus’ lemme finish, bug,” he says, and I wonder how he can be so gutsy to use those two coveted names within one sentence. Despite his bravery, the gesture does its job, and I gulp against the longing that climbs up my throat.

“No, you don’t get to.”

Several Weeks Earlier . . .

“And just what are you mmming about?” I giggle under the spray of kisses he scatters across my face.

“‘ve been waitin’ all day t’ smother you in kisses, that’s why,” he hums against my skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface with his warm breath so near. A laugh sings from me when his fingers linger to a ticklish spot on my side.

“Harry, don’t you dare!”

“Sorry, swear I didn’t mean t’,” he giggles in between kisses that he sponges down my chest. “Mmmm, I love these so much.”

“And why is that?”

“Why all tha questions, lovey?” he says, asking one of his own. He lifts an eyebrow at me from under the hood of his dark, thick eyelashes. A dimple collapses into his cheek while one corner of his mouth raises. “Can’t I love yer tits without havin’ t’ say why? Rather sure y’know why, anyways.”

“Yeah, you’re obsessed with them,” I say, a laugh sputtering from my lips. A groan interrupts them when he teases me with those lips. “It’d be nice if you could not make jokes about them while our coworkers are around.”

“Hey, I didn’t know My was in tha copier room, ‘s not me fault. Y’know he doesn’t give a shit about our PDA at work, and c’mon, Becks, they really did look incredible in that blouse t’day,” Harry winks from below me, lips venturing to the space above my belly button. “I love ‘em, they’re pink and perfect.”

A redness sits in my cheeks as I titter, pressing the back of my hand against my shy lips, embarrassment coating them thickly. “We should be taking down the Halloween decorations instead of this.”

“Hush you,” he murmurs.

His hair is tangled and yet handsome when I catch my fingers in it, scratching my fingernails against his scalp. My eyes stay glued to it and his figure hunched over me, lips stopping at the hem of my underwear. I already know about the smirk lining his lips when he lifts his head to pose a question to me with his eyes.

“Hmmm?” he murmurs, but I shake my head, again. “C’mon, Becks, it’d feel good, love. I wanna taste you.”

Shaking my head once more, a refusal hums from me as my cheeks turn to the color of apples that I hope he can’t see. He sighs with a shake of his head, clucking his tongue at me while pressing kisses to the inside of my leg, soon reaching the pillowy flesh of my inner thigh. Closing my eyes, I press my lips together and sigh, my arm falling over my chest. I try to remember when I had lost my shirt and when he had lost his, but these days, it’s hard to remember if it was after the first kiss or the fiftieth.

His lips reach further down my thigh and close to my blush colored underwear, a lacy part I’d bought recently. Once his lips had ventured down there, a knot inside of my stomach appeared, and it only grows tighter as his lips drop lower. It threatens to unravel when his nose brushes against the hemline, pushing it back to kiss the recently hidden flesh of my hip.

“Harry!” I exclaim, tugging softly at the hair on the nape of his neck.

“What? I was jus’ gettin’ t’ tha good part.”

“You know I’m not-.”

“I know,” he groans, situating himself high over top of me again like we had started, and with a kiss to the lips too. Despite the gesture, I can see the tension in his jaw and the annoyance in his eyes. “I can’t eat you out and I can’t fook you, so what ‘s there left fer me t’ do, huh?”

“Kiss me,” I say, and for some reason, it comes out sounding like a question. He huffs and bends down to place his lips on mine, but from the start, it doesn’t feel right. Now, I can feel the tension in his shoulders and the rigidness of his lips on mine. “What, are you not into this anymore?” I inquire after ending the kiss, twirling a curl of his around my finger on his neck.

“No, ‘s not that,” Harry answers, eyes straying from me. A hand lifts from the bed and he draws invisible shapes on my skin with the lightest of touch until it runs loose on me.

“Stop playing with my boobs and look at me,” I laugh, laying an arm across my bare chest and lifting his chin. The playful glint he so often holds in his eyes is there, but once my laugh falls away, it does too. “You’re being impatient again, aren’t you?”

“I jus’ dunno why we can’t do mo’, Becks, we’ve been t’getha ten months. Loads o’ couples have sex befo’ then and tha girlfriend lets their boyfriend eat ‘em out too.”

“We’re not other couples, Harry, and I’m just not ready,” I say, combing the stray curls off of his forehead. My hand wanders to his smooth cheeks that already feel sandpapery despite him shaving this morning, right next to me as I washed my face.

“I know, ‘m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Does Mr. Impatient want some head?”

“Nah, ‘m good. Let’s jus’ go eat dinna, ‘m hungry,” he says sadly, climbing off of me and the bed.

“That’s not what your dick is saying,” I respond, sitting up and pulling my shirt over my head, watching as he pulls a pair of joggers over his briefs to hide the bulge in his underwear.

“‘m fine. Now, what d’ya want fer dinna?” he continues, stepping in the hallway, forgetting his shirt on the bedroom floor.

“Dick.”

“Fine, you can make yer own dinna, sassy pants!” he calls to me, joined by the sound of his bare feet slapping on the wooden stairs.

With a sigh, I close my eyes and fall back onto the bed with a little bounce, thinking about him. I think about the look on his face when it was between my thighs, then between my breasts, and nosing at my underwear. What is wrong with me to deny that man? I don’t know, I want to do the deed with him- I want to make love to him and for him to make love to me, but for some reason, I’m just not ready. I have a weird feeling about the whole thing, like I should wait. I just wish that I knew the why.

I hear it before I see it, like I so often do. It runs a trail down the hallway and to my ears, pulling my lips into a smile long before I see the one sitting on his.

“What on your phone is so funny?” I inquire, stopping in front of his desk and dropping his mail next to his keyboard. Another giggle tickles his lips as he pinches his bottom lip between his fingers, staring at something on his phone.

“Yer dad ‘s what.”

“I should’ve known,” I sigh, falling onto one of the chairs in front of his desk, watching as his thumbs flit across the screen. “I swear, you talk to my dad more than I talk to him, and he’s my dad!”

“Uh oh, ‘s somebody gettin’ jealous now?” he teases, lifting his eyes to look at me as he sets his phone down.

“No, why would I be jealous of you texting my dad? It makes me happy.”

“Hmm, not sure I believe you, bug,” he remarks, popping a mint into his mouth, immediately chewing it. Sometimes, I really don’t get him. “Then why d’ya get so bent outta shape sometimes, hmm?”

Clucking my tongue, I huff with a smile that hugs the corner of my lips, “Maybe because he doesn’t answer when I call because he’s talking to somebody else.”

“Hey now,” Harry titters, gesturing a hand at me to come to him once I’ve stood up. “Don’t be that way.”

“I’m not being any way,” I say, turning around after considering the books he’s added to a new shelf of his. These ones are music biographies, big surprise.

“Sure ya aren’t. C’mere, me stubborn girl,” he beckons, and I obey, taking slow steps over to him until I walk between his legs. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I return, just as softly as he had uttered it. His rose lips spread into a sweet smile, reminding me why it’s always so damn hard to stay mad at him.

“Are you grumpy?” Harry asks with the most adorable of pouts poised on his lips, winking at me.

“No, I’m not grumpy. Are you ready to get started on this case? We really can’t be dawdling, you know.”

“I know,” he answers, sadness stuck to his words. It guides his actions that lead him to look away from me, pulling me closer until he rests his forehead below my collarbone.

“Then why are you these last few days? I thought you were so excited that we got this case, everybody else fought us for it.”

“I am, but ‘s intimidatin’. I dunno if ‘m cut out fer it,” he says, slowly extending his fingers along the small of my back, and then pulling them back into a fist. In and out. In and out. “What if we can’t win it, Becks?” he asks, lifting his head to meet my eyes, and I wish I couldn’t see the blatant fear held in them.

“Then we can’t. We can only do our best, Harry, that’s what you’ve always told me.”

“And what if my best isn’t good enough? Ev’rybody ‘cross tha whole bloody world ‘s watchin’ this case, waitin’ t’ see what happens,” he continues, avoiding my eyes entirely, now tracing the pattern on the front of my blouse.

“It will be, and it is, Harry. I promise you.”

His head slowly moves up and down, but no words leave him. His questions bounce off the walls in my mind, replaying themselves, and I only wish that I could express my worry too. I’d certainly grown more confident in my abilities since I started working with him, and I owed it not just to his teachings, but also the confidence that he’s instilled in me. I hadn’t given him the go ahead for us to split a case equal between us, and I never knew when I’d be ready for that, so I’d always leaned on him and his skills, but now I was worried to do that. I’m afraid to, and I’d never been before.

“Everything will be okay, Harry.”

“I hope so, Becks,” he croaks, laying his forehead on my chest and his closing eyes flutter against my skin softly. I hold in the sigh that I want to let fall, but instead, I run my fingers through his hair and down his back, unsure of what more I can do. If there was anything I couldn’t be sure of, it was the future and what it held, and how little I knew what was coming.

It started that night, daunting and unwilling to let go, and if only I’d known what it was the beginning of.

I kept checking my phone, staring at the clock that moved like molasses, and waiting for the text that wouldn’t come. Exhaling loudly, I swipe across the screen until his name is waiting for me, and I do it before I can stop myself.

Are you on your way home yet? It’s supposed to snow tonight, maybe it is already. I don’t want you to get caught in it with bad roads

The word ‘delivered’ appears and then stares back at me, almost taunting me. Before my eyes, it changes to ‘read’ and I wait for the gray bubble to pop up on his side, but it doesn’t. I watch and I wait, and nothing happens. No thumbs up, no text reaction, no ‘b home soon,’ like he so often sends. Not a thing. I forget how long I sit there watching my phone screen, tapping at it when it grows dark, and wishing he’d send something. It got even later when I finally press the lock button and set my phone down on the nightstand, glancing at the alarm clock beside it.

11:38.

I tried not to worry and I tried not to overthink it, but I was already past that when I turned off the light. My heart continued to ram against my ribs as I slid under the cold blankets in an empty bed, watching the steady glow of the streetlamp outside the window. I lied there and I tried and I wanted to, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I had a hard time remembering the last time I had slept in a bed without him, even before I moved in we had sleepovers at his. I wasn’t sure how I’d get any sleep for another day of work tomorrow, knowing that I’d be up in seven hours, and so would he. That’s if I could shut off all of this worrying and fall asleep, if only.

I listen to the whir of cars passing along on the street, and I find myself wishing one of them is his, but it’s too long until it actually is. The space around me had grown warm, but if I move a leg too far, I’m greeted by icy sheets. It had never been that way, I could always move a little and find him and his warmth. Sometimes, I’d wake in the morning and he was all around me, clinging to me and my heat.

It was in the middle of a long, sleepy blink that I heard a door open downstairs, and shut. It was loud, a clumsy kind of one, and so are the footsteps that soon come up the stairs. A sigh tickles my ears before the door opens slowly with a squeak, and his feet pad through our bedroom. I only see a flash of him before he ducks into the ensuite bathroom with what looks like a handful of clothes. I watch the shadows that interrupt the bar of light under the door, and listen to his whistling and humming amidst the sloshing of running water.

His eyes are tired when he opens the door again, and they only look all the more exhausted when they find mine in the lit darkness.

“Why aren’t you sleepin’, bug?” he rasps, stepping forward in his outfit of nothing but joggers donning his legs. He claims that he can’t wear a shirt without getting too warm, because I heat the entire bed, or so he says. Right now, I don’t believe it.

“I couldn’t . . without you.”

“Oh, Becks,” he frowns, padding across the hardwood floor and pulling back the sheets to slip under them. “Brr, ‘m cold, warm me up, would ya?”

“Ugh, you’re freezing!” I exclaim, my nervousness melting away into giggles that tickle his neck as he wraps me in his arms.

“Mmmm, now that’s better.”

I hum a reply into his chest, dragging my fingers along his spine, touching the wispy baby hairs that cover his body like down. The questions from before still rummage around in my mind, looking for purchase.

“Why were you out so late?” I decide to ask, smelling the toothpaste we use on my own breath, and then his.

“Didn’t mean t’, jus’ lost track o’ time with Rore. We had some drinks and I didn’t wanna drive home buzzed, so I waited it out and had some waters.”

“Good boy,” I reply, nuzzling into his cozy chest, feeling the feathery hair there tickle my face. Yawning, I let my body relax now that mine is finally back with his, one specific question hiding in the back of my mind. “But why didn’t you answer?” I mumble without caution, feeling myself begin to melt into a puddle of sleep against him.

“Answer what?”

“Your phone,” I drawl, losing the feeling of my fingers and then my feet.

“Jus’ go t’ sleep, bug. It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” I hum in reply, not even sure of what he’d just said. “Goodnight, Harry. Love you.”

“Night, my Becks,” he responds with a peck to my head, sounding far away.

The tapping of my shoes against the tiling fills my ears as I flip through his mail, noting which ones should go on top for him to see first, and what can remain at the bottom to be forgotten about until later. Something I’d accidentally fall back into the habit of when I returned to the firm, despite being a lawyer now, and not his assistant. Humming a tune I had heard earlier today, I look up and stop in his doorway, finding myself in an odd moment. With his eyes bent down, I can tell that he doesn’t know I’m there yet, and that he does it because he doesn’t see me.

“What are you doing? It’s nine o’clock,” I titter, covering my mouth when my voice scares him, causing the brown liquid to spill over the side of his mug.

“God, can ya maybe not scare tha shit outta me next time?” Harry almost retorts, mopping it up with a napkin before screwing the cap back onto the bottle.

“Harry, I said, what are you doing?” I repeat, click clacking my way into his office and dropping his mail on his desk, yet again.

“What? ‘s jus’ whiskey. Can I not make my coffee a li’l irish ev’ry now and then?” he questions, lifting the tall mug to his lips to sip from, steaming wafting against his face.

“I guess so,” I trail off, waltzing back to the sofa and picking up my laptop. Sitting down, I place it on my lap and open it back up, watching the long pull he takes from the mug. Bringing up the internet browser I was using before, I scroll through the document as I try to forget watching him fill the mug nearly half of the way with whiskey.

“Harry?” I call out, toeing off my chestnut colored winter boots, hoping he won’t notice the puddle of water next to the shoe mat. He’s such a dad with the things he gets cross about, I swear. “Hello, are you home yet? I brought you some leftovers from Skye’s, you know, for dinner.”

Padding into the house, I’m met with darkness and a soft silence. I don’t find my boyfriend sprawled out on the sofa in the living room, a show on the telly. I walk past the large flat screen and knock on the door of his study before pushing it open, finding that that room is also dark.

“Harry, hello?” I almost shout again, taking the steps two at a time until I reach our bedroom, wondering if he was taking a nap after his early morning, or if he happened to not be feeling well. Once again, I come up empty handed, and my head begins to spin as the cogs turn inside of it.

“Hullo?” the voice on the other side says whilst I pad down the stairs quickly.

“Hi, where are you?”

“‘m at tha pub with My, why?” he says, and I can tell by the sound of clinking glasses and loud voices coming from his side.

“Oh, just wondering. I thought you said you were coming straight home to work more on the case,” I begin, intending to continue but I don’t get the chance to.

“No, I spent all bloody day workin’ on it, why should I spend me night off pourin’ over it too?” he nearly retorts, and I stop in my tracks before the island, taken aback by his tone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t say you had to or anything, Harry. Is something wrong?”

“No, ‘d jus’ appreciate not havin’ you nag me like yer me mother or sumthin’. ‘m an adult, can’t I go out fer a drink at tha pub afta work? Reckon ‘ve deserved it, dontch’u think?” he continues with a carry to his voice that I don’t like, and it only begins to make sense once I’ve picked out the slur in his words.

“Yeah, of course, just don’t drink too much, okay? And drive safe. Maybe don’t stay out as late as last night, you have an early meeting.”

“I jus’ said don’t bloody nag me, and look what ya start doin’,” he bites back and I shudder, taking a seat at the island to steady my feet.

“I didn’t mean to, Harry, I just care-.”

“If ya fookin’ care so much, Becky, then stop treatin’ me like a damn baby,” he spits at me, and I hear the dial tone.

“What the fuck?” I mutter under my breath, pulling my phone away from my ear. I grimace at the image on my lockscreen that only makes the wound sting worse.

Dinner went down harshly and so did the glass of wine that I had with it although regrettably. Watching FRIENDS without him was a bore and it didn’t last long, afraid I’ll only piss him off further if he came home to see me skipping ahead in our show without him there. I whittled away at the next things to be done in the case - research this, research that, take notes on this, get these statements, bladdy blah. All just to busy my mind and to make the clock speed along until he came home, and hopefully, when things would go back to normal.

Before I knew it, it was getting late and I was still home all alone. A warm bath didn’t calm my nerves and it only made me wish that he was sitting across from me under the suds, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t lying in the bed waiting for me when I got out, skin all shriveled like prunes, no matter how badly I wished he’d be home after my long bath. He hadn’t walked in the door after I read a chapter from my book, spoke on the phone with my dad, or wrote in my journal. I at last flicked off the bedside lamp and tried to fall asleep in a cold bed, once again.

I woke with a start to a loud slam! downstairs on the main level of the house, presumably a door. Failing to ignore it, I turn over and tug the covers higher, unable to tune out the sound of his loud footsteps climbing the stairs. Sinking lower into the messy covers, I keep my eyes shut and listen to his sloppy movements before they arrive him in the bed next to me with a huff. Words sit in my throat, itching to be said, but I only let one of them out.

“Harry?”

It had become old, very swiftly and very quickly. For the next few nights, I sat alone at home, wondering and waiting for texts that never came, only to fall into a fitful sleep in a cold bed, all alone. I’d awake the next morning to the sound of him emptying his stomach into the toilet, and either leaving for work without me, or being a monumental crab-ass on the drive there. As the days carried on, I couldn’t remember for the life of me the last time his coffees weren’t Irish. I ignored it, and after a few days of doing that, I knew that that’s where my mistakes had begun.

The door slowly creaked open and dragged in was him, glossy eyed and surprise etched on his features.

“What d’ya want, mum? Gonna chew me out fer stayin’ out past me bedtime?” he jokes at me, closing the bedroom door behind him as he waltzes in wearing a disheveled version of today’s suit.

“What’s going on with you?” I ask, twisting the rings around on my fingers, lingering on a new one that had appeared on my hand last week. Sometimes, it hurt to remember that it was there, but I could never get myself to take it off.

“Oh, here we go,” he sighs, slamming closed a drawer to his wardrobe. Avoiding my eyes, he unclasps his belt and lets his trousers fall to the floor. “Nuthin’s goin’ on with me, I dunno why ya think sumthin’ ‘s.”

“Yes, there is, Harry. You’ve been out late drinking every night this week, and I’m sick of it!” I confess quietly, unsure of where to find the fervor in my voice, or well, the volume. An ironic laugh curves at his lips as he undoes the buttons of his crimson red shirt.

“I don’t rememba askin’ how ya felt ‘bout it, or needin’ yer permission eitha,” he retorts, achieving malice and cruel intent in a matter of seconds. It’s all too much when he meets my eyes with his unforgiving stare, and I have to look away.

“Why are you acting like this?” I say, the incoming tears already decorating my words. His heavy sigh only makes my throat burn worse with its impending dryness.

“What, are ya gonna fookin’ cry now? Bloody hell, ya can be a brat when ya wanna be,” he slurs, slinking off his button down that hits the floor silently. Sniffling, I look up and watch him slide on pajama bottoms to cover his dark black briefs.

His tattoos grab at my attention from across the room, but I don’t want to fall asleep tracing them like I would any other night, because that’s not him standing across from me. It may have taken me a few days too long to realize this, but it’s not. That’s not my Harry. No, it’s the Harry that I first met that September day when he barked his Starbucks order at me.

“It’s the case, isn’t it? It’s taking too much of a toll on you, Harry. You should give it up, or hand it off to somebody else. I don’t like this you, you’re drinking too much and-.”

“Did I ask fer yer opinion? Y’know what? No, I don’t rememba that. Now, my bloody god, would ya leave it be so I can get some sleep?” he interrupts in a retort, heavy feet padding around to the other side of the bed with a wobbliness to them. He rips back the covers and sits down, grabbing his charger to plug his phone in. Swiping at my cheeks, I grab my pillow and anxiously begin my trek to the door. “Goin’ t’ sleep on tha sofa, are ya now? Good, maybe you’ll stop naggin’ on me then.”

His voice that usually would lull me to sleep and drive the demons away instead keeps me away, guiding me down the steps until I stop on the last one. My butt burns when it falls onto the wooden step and I bury my face in my knees, my chest shaking with a new sob.

I eventually scrounge up the might and energy to pull myself off of the staircase and across the room until I collapse onto the sofa, and cry myself into an uneasy sleep.

The smell of eggs and toast wakes me the next morning, but the illusion is broken when I hear the slam of the door to the garage, and the hum of his car pulling away.

The sounds of Mozart and Beethoven meander around my office, but they fail to drive away the incessant thoughts that have buried their way into my mind. They mask the signalling sound of his footsteps that I could pick out from a crowd.

“Hey, ‘m done with me meetin’ now. Ya wanna come t’ mine and we can finish up the openin’ statement?” he says, but as much as my heart reaches out for him, I can’t do it after the other night. Sure, casual conversation had happened since then, but he had also been missing in action for almost the entire weekend recently. A nice dinner together last night wasn’t enough to wash away the hurt from that night, and all of the others. “Becks?” Harry repeats, taking a step into my office. The door closes with a squeak that I’ve been meaning to ask him to get fixed, but something as simple as that hadn’t seemed possible in the last week, and neither had a kiss or a hug. Not even on our official ten month anniversary that came and went uncelebrated yesterday, despite his urging last week that we should do something to celebrate it.

“No thanks, I’m fine in here,” I say softly, feeling the eggshells underneath my feet as the words make their way out.

“Uh, okay,” he answers. “‘ll grab you fer lunch with me mum in an hour then. She picked Henry’s down tha street fer pizza. We haven’t been there in a while,” he finishes, and I wonder how he can manage such small talk after the things he had said to me. I ask and come up empty when I question how I could even let him.

“And again, why are you hiding out in my office?”

“I’m not hiding out in your office,” I insist, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear before resuming my typing.

“Uh, yeah you are. You have your own office, don’t you remember?”

“What, I can’t hang out with my friend and work together?” I say, lifting my eyes to meet Asher’s sky blue pair that squint at me in question. He shakes his head with his lips parted, ready to say something, but he just sighs without an answer.

“What tha hell?” somebody shouts, the blinds on Asher’s door swinging and swaying after the initial shock of its opening. I see Ash’s look before the intruder’s, but I’m afraid that I already know what it will be.

“Harry-,” I begin, standing to my feet and pushing my laptop to the side, unsure of how I didn’t see this coming.

“I was waitin’ fer you fer half an hour at tha restaurant, and so was me mum. You stood us up and wouldn’t answer yer fookin’ phone!” he explodes, taking another step inside Asher’s office. Asher begins to say something to him, but I get lucky and push Harry out of the room before he can get a chance to respond. “And you’d been sittin’ in there tha whole fookin’ time?” he continues, his words soon sounding different when I push him into the lift.

“Now, you know how it feels.”

“Know how what feels?” he bites back, prying my hand from his arm and taking a step back. I press a button at random and try to push down the hurt I felt when he picked my hand off of him.

“To be waiting around for you, and to be stood up by you. You’ve been doing it to me for the last week, so it’s only right that you feel a little bit of my pain,” I say curtly, swinging around to face him, watching the smug grin plaster itself to his face as he wipes at his mouth.

“So, this ‘s ‘bout you, ‘s it? God, what’s fookin’ new?” he sighs with an ironic laugh that feels gross in my ears.

“No, it’s not about me, Harry, I-.”

“D’ya know how that looked t’ me mum? I couldn’t get you on tha phone and ya never showed up. Ya made it look like we’re havin’ problems, Becks,” he says, stepping into my sentence, and this only gets me going further.

“Who’s to say we aren’t, Harry?!”

“‘Scuse me? We aren’t havin’ problems,” he begins, denying my claim as he uses his hands to talk. “We’re fine!”

“Yes, we are, Harry! You get drunk every night after work- wait, let me start over. You pregame with Irish coffees all day at work, and then disappear every night to the pub only to come home around midnight out of your mind drunk!” I exclaim, feeling my blood boil as he shakes his head in disagreement, but I wish I could say that I’m surprised.

“Yer not turnin’ this ‘round on me,” he tuts, pointing a finger at me as ice coats his words. “I have a drink or two at tha pub, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

“It’s not a few drinks, Harry, it’s more than that and it’s becoming a problem! You have a drinking problem!” I insist, wishing I knew the magic key for how to get my words across to him, but they falter and run off on me.

“I don’t have a drinkin’ problem, Becks, and ‘m gettin’ real fookin’ sick o’ you always monitorin’ me like ‘m a bloody baby! ‘m not, ‘m a grown ass adult, and if ya forgot, ‘m yer bleedin’ boss ‘round here. ‘m not likin’ tha attitude yer havin’ with me and if ya continue it, ‘ll take ya off the Gellar case.”

“Fine, take me off it. I don’t give one fuck, Harry, because it’s hell working with you on that case. You’re almost drunk all day at work, you give me the shitty jobs to do, and now, here’s a perfect example of you taking your shit out on me!” I argue back, but the fire soon disappears in my words, and with my next ones, I watch it extinguish on his face. “Why are you treating me like this? I-I’m concerned for you and I’m trying to help, and you’re being so mean to me. It’s inexcusable . . I want my Harry back . . I wish you’d never taken this high profile case, because it’s destroying you, and I’m scared that it’ll do the same to us.”

A flash of my Harry appears on his face, but I don’t wait to watch it disappear, walking off the lift and back onto Seventeen and away from him.

My feet seem to have a mind of their own the next day, inching one way and then itching to go in another. I ignore them and remain in my office for another day of sulking, trying to apply myself to this new case with Rose, but it’s a swing and a miss. The buzzing of my phone is something I’ve learned to ignore, but when I see that it’s my dad or Skye, both of whom I’ve neglected to tell about Harry and I, it becomes all the harder.

That thought is dislodged by the knock at my door, a simple gesture that as of late can send my stomach into somersaults, wondering who it is. I’m reminded too quickly of the times when I sat at that shitty desk in the corner, and how I feel far too much like that person right now. The girl who was unappreciated and who was treated like shit by her boss.

“Hey. I thought today’s meeting was cancelled, something about Myles being out and the drunk that I regrettably call my boyfriend is well, drunk again,” I say, hoping the man of the hour isn’t passing behind Rose right this second to hear my speech.

“No, um, it’s still off. I uh . . “

“Spit it out already. What’s wrong?” I ask, screwing open my water bottle and slowly pouring a small stream of water into the succulent on the corner of my desk. Harry’s plant, the very one he’d named Frankie all that time ago. For what reason, I don’t remember. “I don’t know what that look is for, it’s not like my life could get any worse right now . . or can it?”

“It can,” she says, breaking the ice, but I’m not sure if she’s doing it slowly or ripping off the bandaid in one pull. “Harry’s telling people that you quit the case because you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“God, I really am going to kick the shit out of him one of these times,” I groan, setting down the steel water bottle loudly and haphazardly screwing the cap on.

“Becky, don’t,” she warns me, stepping forward and trying to block my path to the door, but she hasn’t even made a dent. “Starting another row with him isn’t going to help anything. I just saw him and he’s practically asleep at his desk, he’s drunk so much.”

“I don’t bloody care, I’m not going to let him spread rumors about me, his own fucking girlfriend,” I retort, taking the last step until she’s practically shoving at my shoulders. Huffing, I meet her eyes and for an instant, I feel bad for her and what she’s had to watch. “Rose, don’t. Please. I need to speak to him. I’m sick of his immature teenager act, he’s being a right asshole, and he deserves to be told it.”

“Fine,” she sighs softly, hands dropping before she steps to the side.

My feet pound around the corner and down the hall, taking only a few moments until I arrive at his door. I savor the way he jumps in his chair when I slam his door shut, only to sink back into the expanse of pricey leather.

“What d’ya want? ‘m tryin’ t’ sleep here, haven’t ya noticed?” Harry drawls, sleepily. His eyes flutter closed again and he swallows before trying to get comfortable in his chair again.

“Well, maybe if you came home at a half decent time each night you wouldn’t be falling asleep at work, but I guess you just can’t put down the bottle, Harry. By the looks of it, you can’t at work, either,” I say, curling my lip when I see the empty bottle of vanilla whiskey sat open on his desk. God, he really is going to get his ass fired or demoted one of these times, not to mention start a smear campaign for the firm.

“This shit again? I don’t wanna fookin’ hear it, Becks. Give it a rest, ‘m a grown adult, I can do what I please.”

“So talking shit about me to your coworkers is doing as you please, is it now?” I say, coming out and dealing it, right then and there. Something in him stills and his eyes slowly open and try to focus on me. I think I see apology and regret in them, but I whip off any rose colored glasses I still had on and chuck them to the side. “I’m your girlfriend, Harry . . What the fuck is wrong with you?” I exhale, feeling the first tear when I blink and turn away from him. I try to ignore the pang I feel in my chest when I don’t hear my favorite voice calling my nickname from behind me, but I guess it’s time that he stopped chasing after me. It seems to be coming to an end . . I just wish I’d known when the beginning was.

After a quiet cry and a few YouTube videos, I meander my way to the break room for my lunch, bumping shoulders with somebody when I walk in the door. Automatic ‘sorrys’ leave our lips as I continue my mission to the fridge where my leftovers sit. Leftovers from another lonely dinner without Harry last night.

“You alright, Becky?”

“What?” I ask in surprise, at last looking up to find the culprit of the question. “Oh, Myles, hi. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it. Harry doesn’t either lately, there isn’t a theme, is there?” he almost jokes, but I don’t laugh as I press random numbers on the microwave. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m alright, thanks. No offense, but you’re kind of the biased best friend. Trust me, I know. I have one of them too.”

“Well, trust me, ‘cause I’m not,” he insists, and when I look around, pretending to take a gander, my eyes drift to the door habitually. “Here, maybe this’ll help.”

I watch him cross the room to stick a key into the door and the lock flicks with a metallic sound.

“What will people do without their tea and lunch? You may as well be starting a mutiny,” I say, trying to lighten the atmosphere around us, but I find it’s no use when he stops at my side with a grim expression.

“I haven’t seen him drink this much, since well . . you left.”

“Huh,” I hum, less of a question and more of a realization, one I hadn’t wanted to make. “He’s sure doing a good job of working towards that again . . I hear he’s been saying things about me.”

“Swear I haven’t heard a thing, and if I did, I wouldn’t believe a word that comes from his drunk ass lately.”

“It seems you’re the only one,” I laugh almost ironically, but it comes out sounding sad as can be. Hoping and praying, I try to hide the sniffle as the microwave door opens with a pop!

“Sure I’m not.”

“Rose told me he’s telling people I left the Gellar case because I was scared, when in truth, he kicked me off it because I’ve been on his ass about staying out late every night drinking,” I risk, staring down at the steaming container of food, forgetting the spoon set to the side to stir it at the halfway mark. “He’s my boyfriend, and my best friend. He’s supposed to protect me from the people who want to hurt me, not become one of them,” I reveal, each word becoming heavier with tears that try to swallow my voice. “Why is he doing this, Myles? This isn’t the Harry I know . . it’s that one I first met.”

“Oh, Becky,” he sighs, stepping forward and pulling me into a hug. “I don’t know. I wish I could tell you why, I’ve wondered meself . . He’s got issues, even he knows it, but . . he has a hard time of dealing with ‘em. He ignores ‘em instead, with whiskey. You shouldn’t take it like this, it’s not fair to you.”

“I try. I’ve tried talking to him and being nice about it, but he doesn’t listen to me. He won’t stop drinking and it scares me, how he acts and the things he says,” I confess in a blubbery voice against his suit jacket. “I never thought I’d have to do this and I hate that I have to . . but I don’t want him to be my mentor anymore, Myles, please. Maybe Rose, instead. Can you do it without him finding out and getting even more mad at me?”

“Yeah, I can sneak it past him, don’t worry.”

“I wish I could,” I nearly whisper, pulling away and grabbing the hot container whilst I swipe at my wet cheeks, ignoring the burning heat against my skin, knowing that that’s the mildest pain I’ve felt in days.

A few days later, I’m greeted by darkness and silence after the key clicks in the lock, and my footstep is the first sound in the house.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” the words echo inside of my skull, but I can’t find the confidence I had when I had first heard them, when I need it so badly right now. “I’ll support whatever decision you make, Ree, and you know you always have a place to stay here.”

“Thanks, Skye,” I had said then, and I mutter now too as I stop in front of our bedroom door. The quiet embeds itself into every nook and cranny, but I welcome it and only wish that it could replicate itself in my mind.

The pounding of my heart grows louder when I push the door open, and the beginning tears don’t mask it when I drop the suitcase onto the bed. The sounds only worsen as I open drawers and take items out to fill the zippers, leaving an emptiness behind that couldn’t compare to that I hold inside of me.

My head moves every which way, trying to memorize the sights around me, but all I see and all I hear are the rows we’d had the last few nights here. In the kitchen after he tried to sneak inside reeking of whiskey, or the night before in the living room when he came home shouting at me about why I didn’t finish the opening statement, despite being dropped from his case. Then another over him growing mad with me for not answering my phone, deciding if he wasn’t going to answer my texts and calls, then why should I bother to answer his.

I feel the grooves and the raised edges, sure I’d at least memorized those as I pull it from my pocket, watching the color blur before my eyes. My thumb slides across the medal wet from my uncontrollable tears, and at last, I place it on the island counter with a small clack!, finally letting go.

“What’re ya doin’?” a voice says softly out of nowhere. Spinning around, I blink back the tears until Harry focuses in front of me. His thick eyebrows furrow above his murky greens, and only then do I see his boots kicked off by the doorway that had gone unnoticed by me, and his coat draped over the staircase newel.

“H-Harry,” I stutter, swallowing against a dry throat that deprives me of any explanations I could muster.

“Becks, what’re ya doin’? It looks like . . . ,” he trails off to look at the item, his words escaping him until they shine brightly in his eyes, and wrench at my heart. “Looks like yer movin’ out, and without even tellin’ me. What, was I supposed t’ come home t’night t’ find yer key on tha counter, and piece it all t’getha meself? And tha night befo’ I leave fer me case? How in tha hell ‘s that any fair, Becks?”

“Harry, I- please-.”

“No, why should I let ya explain? It doesn’t seem ya were gonna bother t’ leave me a note or even break it t’ me,” he continues quietly with astonishment wild on his face, and in his voice that smells rough and hard with alcohol.

“Harry, I was just going to stay at Skye’s tonight and while you were away. I-.”

“Then why leave tha key, huh?” he asks, voice growing firm and so does the green in his eyes. “God, ‘m so sick o’ arguin’ with you, seems that’s all we do lately. ‘m jus’, ‘m done, Becks. I really am.”

“Harry, no. Please, don’t say that. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying,” I say hurriedly, stepping forward and dropping the bag. It hits the floor with a bang! just as he turns away while dragging a hand down his face.

“I know what ‘m sayin’, Becks, and I know ‘m done dealin’ with all o’ this shit. Fer havin’ such an ungrateful girlfriend who nit picks ev’ry li’l thing I do, ‘cuz ‘s jus’ never good enough fer her.”

“Harry, that’s not true,” I sob, following him with my steps that feel more heavier as I continue, but he seems to be moving further and further away from me.

“It ‘s tho’, y’know it ‘s. ‘m . . . ‘m doin’ it fer you, ‘kay? ‘m doin’ what ya can’t do, ‘m callin’ it. We’re done, we’re breakin’ up. We both knew it was comin’,” he mutters, and I no longer can make out the sounds in his voice or what it holds, because I can barely see him through the waterfall of tears.

“Please, Harry, I don’t want to break up. I’m sorry.”

“Sometimes sorry doesn’t cut it, isn’t that whatch’u say t’ me?” he retorts, at last stopping to face me fully. The splashes of black and brown covering his body turn ashier and darker the longer I look, but it doesn’t compare to the look on his face.

“But I love you . . and I know that you love me too.” His eyes run away from me and finally, so do his words. “Harry, say it back, please. We can just pretend this didn’t happen, and go to bed together. We can sleep it off and talk about it in the morning before your flight,” I cry, watching his face devoid of emotion show me nothing when I can’t stop showing him. When I could never learn how to close myself off to him, he finally learned how to close his book to me so I could stop reading him.

He stares at the floor, his only movements are his eyes blinking and his hand scratching at the back of his head. The seemingly permanent glossiness to his eyes wavers and tears appear in them, but something pulls me backwards and away from him. I take the steps and wish that they could rewind time too, but they only bring me to the case that I place in my hand without deciding to. I look up and walk over to him, unsure of when my legs had begun to move, or if my body was doing all of this for me, because it figured out that I can’t. I just, I can’t.

“Go, Becks, ‘kay? ‘ve made me mind up, we’re over. Leave befo’ tha snowstorm gets too bad,” Harry announces in an absent, choked voice, his hand falling from his head as my chest shakes with sob after sob. His eyes budge up a little but they avoid mine entirely, and so does he as he walks around me and up the stairs.

I don’t remember deciding to walk out the front door, or getting into my car, but I’m there when I curl inward on myself as tears cascade down my face. I’m fully there as the stitches that he put in my heart are ripped open and all of the memories that he filled my heart with spill out, stinging one by one. I’m there as I watch the lights in the house turn off and the one for our bedroom turns on, and I immediately correct myself, knowing that it’s not ours anymore. I sit there until I can muster the energy to drive, telling myself that he’s not mine anymore, and I was a right idiot for ever telling myself that he was.

The sheets are cold when the blaring of the alarm awakens me, and I turn over, inching a foot across the mattress in search. It’s met with only coldness and I slowly peel my eyes open, searching with them now, for her. Sitting up, I rub a knuckle into my bleary eyes, trying to focus my sight on the emptiness on the other side of the bed.

Questions fill me and answers fleet me as I pad down the stairs and past the front door, arriving in the kitchen. Turning a light on, I squint at the sudden brightness that sends throbs through my head. It’s accompanied by another throb when I spot the lone purple key sitting on the marbled countertop, away from the half burned candle and the cribbage board with a deck of cards atop it.

I’m not sure how I got there, but I feel the cold of the wood floor all around me next, accompanied by the hot tears flowing down my cheeks. The answers come fast and painful in my insides, and opening my eyes, I watch last night replay before me, and what I did. What I did to her, and to us. Myles’ words over the last few weeks resound in my head, and they won’t stop.

“The fuck are you doing? You’re going to screw everything up if you don’t stop before it’s too late!”

“It is too late,” I mutter under my breath, feeling the cool wooden floor beneath my forehead as I curl inside myself, wishing she could come and save me. But that’s the last thing that’s going to walk in that door, because I made it so she has to save herself, and so do I.

Violins and harps dance around my empty office, and I try not to look up and lose myself in the images of memories that seem to stick to every corner of the room. Him opening birthday presents on the sofa, the makeout sessions on the same piece of furniture, the almost first kiss by my window, the first time I saw my office with him in tow, and all of the times he’d work over my shoulder planting kisses along my neck. So many more of them float around the space vying for my attention, but it’s stolen away when there’s a rap on my door.

“Come in,” I say automatically, looking back at my computer screen, putting back on the mask that I’ve donned for however long it’s been now since it all started, and the three days since he left. The ‘I’m okay’ mask, something I can’t even believe.

“Look at my pretty girl,” they say, and despite the way I could never mistake that very voice, for a split second I want to and wish that I could be right in my mistaking. It takes more than I have to look away and up at him, and the tears are already close and on their way when he smiles the saddest kind of one at me.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” I ask in near alarm, standing to my feet, afraid of what his answer might be. His lips fall flat and my confirmation is right there, although I’m unsure if I ever needed it, because he speaks for it himself.

“Skye told me what happened with Harry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he almost coos, and holds out his arms before I could ask. They’re open for mere seconds before they close around me and my shaking figure. “It’s okay, Boops, I’m here. It’s all going to be okay.”

“No, it’s not. I don’t know if there will ever be a time again that I feel okay,” I sob into his shoulder, gradually finding my words and feeling the sting of having to repeat it for the second or third time. The sting grows worse remembering the morning after crying on Skye’s lap and not knowing if I’d ever be able to stop. No matter what time it is, it never gets easier. I don’t think if I’d had any warning, it would’ve been any less harder.

The raucous of laughter, shouts, and praises sound outside the door and I wish I knew why. Shaking my head at the obscene volume, I flip to the next page of the magazine, finding DIY Christmas decorations that according to this magazine, everybody and anybody can make.

“No, thank you,” I mutter to myself, completely vetoing Christmas this year, despite knowing that I’ll have to make it to Madley for the traditional weekend spent at my dad’s in only a few weeks. I just don’t know how I’m going to manage it knowing the person I can’t take with me anymore whose name will be on presents sitting under the tree. The same name claims gifts that I’d hidden in the attic at ho- at his home, long forgotten by now, or I wish.

“Hell, you really do get prettier ev’ry day,” somebody mumbles from behind me, and I pause mid page flip. I’m glad that I wasn’t holding my tea, or else I know it’d be painted all over the front of my heather gray dress. Now, that would be a disaster, but I know it doesn’t compare to the one that intends to unfold within the next few moments. Swallowing hard, I silently turn to the next page and ignore the greeting.

“Ya weren’t at me welcome home party that the firm threw fer me.”

“There wasn’t enough room,” is all I say, neglecting to mention that I had no idea until now, despite should’ve knowing how the pieces went together. His appearance. The loud voices and cheering just outside the door that’s only a few steps from the lift. It’s my saving grace for how I was rarely ever late back in the day. “You won it,” I remark, sure it’s less of a question and more of a statement.

“I did.”

“Congrats, you put on a good defense from what I hear,” I announce in a voice devoid of the emotion that usually accompanies that word.

“Thanks . . but I don’t deserve it,” he begins shyly, and I hold back my response that only eggs his self-deprecation on. “I dunno how I did it tho,’ ‘cuz all I could think ��bout tha whole I was there was you. Ev’ry second fer that entire week it was, ‘what ‘s Becks doin’?,’ ‘what’ll I say t’ her when I get home,’ ‘what can I say t’ her,’ ‘I dunno what t’ do at this part, what would she do?’” he pours out, and I gulp past the impending desert that’s signalled its return. No, I’d made it a few days now without them, I can’t break that streak now. No, not now. Please.

“It seems you didn’t need it, you did just fine without me,” I answer bleakly, aware of the knives that my voice holds and how they stab with the voice devoid of anything happy and bright.

“That’s not true,” he argues, and I hear the first step, and feel it in the hairs rising on the back of my neck. I feel it in the squeeze of my heart and the goosebumps on my arms that long for his touch and also fear it. I hear the crack in his voice and the wet sniffle that plays in the empty room. “I couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you and how I fooked ev’rythin’ up, even befo’ I left. I woke up that mornin’ and knew ‘d done it . . ‘d jus’ been home befo’ here and all o’ yer things were gone, and I never thought comin’ home could be so fookin’ hard . . I-I tried so many times t’ get ahold o’ you but ya wouldn’t answer, and I can’t blame ya. I can’t believe how I treated you, Becks, and ‘m so fookin’ sorry . . . I haven’t touched a bleedin’ drop since that last night, and I never want t’ ‘gain. I never want t’ go that long without talkin’ t’ you ‘gain, it felt like I was losin’ me mind ev’ry fookin’ day missin’ you so badly. Meant it when I said ‘m not sure how I won tha case when I couldn’t get you off me mind.”

“Get used to it,” I retort, closing the magazine swiftly and spinning around. Flashes of color greet me, but I turn away from his figure and make for the door.

“Becks, please, don’t,” he begs in a voice spilling with emotion. “‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry,” he whimpers, the warmth of his fingers pressed to mine feeling like the first rays of sun in the spring. Ripping my hand from his, I don’t let him try to melt the ice that he planted inside of me.

“No, Harry, you don’t get to just waltz in here and sorry your way out of this. It’s not that easy this time,” I say, hoping he feels the bite of my words, but I see it when I take the leap and look into those endless greens. “You really fucking hurt me, Harry . . You were my best friend and you hurt me more than anybody I know . . You were supposed to protect me from others doing that to me, but you did it too. How can I ever trust you again?” I begin to cry, knowing that it’s about to be Niagra in here if I don’t skedaddle. Whimpering, I dash out of the door with the image of his flooded sage eyes stinging in my own, and how my heart lurches at the regret of not wiping them away.

His eyes drift repeatedly from the floor to ceiling window and back to his wrist, tapping at it only to walk away with disappointment. He may have closed his book to me, but I still remember so many of the pages, and I can’t figure out how I could ever stop knowing what they say. After Myles finishes speaking about the upcoming elder’s meetings, his bottom lip becomes caught between his teeth like a vice, and then I know it’s bad. I look away when a few too many seconds have followed, risking that he’ll catch my stare. If he’s found it in the recent few days since we last spoke in between tears and in between pages of a magazine, he hasn’t made it known.

I feared this team meeting, the first one with him back and sitting at the helm with Myles. He looks fresher and no longer sporting the alcohol sweats and beard, but something is still missing. He’d gotten his hair cut and it’s hardly any different, but it’s not that. His suits are perhaps a little more wrinkled, but that’s not the last puzzle piece, either. I knew what it was, but I didn’t want to say it. No, not after I saw the way he smiled at his new intern, Frankie, she called herself. Francine something or other, it is. Beats me. I’m sure she probably had a name for each of her boobs as well, seeing as how they could probably be seen from space. I watched her admire him too, but I doubted she saw the circles under his eyes, or the way his lips looked like they’d never smile again. I was almost positive she couldn’t see the way his suits hung a little looser on him, or how he rubbed the naked skin of his left hand’s middle finger, missing something.

I wondered whether or not to linger once everybody was dismissed, but even if I had wanted to, how could I? She followed him like a puppy. I hope I had never done that, or that somebody would have put me out of my impending doom- I mean misery, if I had been. He walked out of sight, and somehow, all I could think about is how the back of his head is still just as cute, and so is his bum.

Several coffee refills and trips to the loo commenced until I found myself pulled to his doorway, pretending to be walking to Gwen or Rory’s office. God forbid, I ever give that asshole the time of day, I’d never hear the end of it. For the first time, Ms. Boobs is missing in action, and I never thought I could be more grateful for somebody’s absence. Last week only seemed to argue with that, now that I think of it, and how something inside of me warmed every time I saw him in the hallways. It sparks until a fire ignites when I catch sight of his backside facing me until it turns around, and at last, I’m caught.

Defeat covers his features and the surprise inches away, leading him to look down at his messy desk. “Hi,” I say, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my slacks, still wishing they made fleece lined ones.

“Hey,” he returns in a squeak that shrinks in comparison to his beautiful voice.

“It’s today, isn’t it? Your gran’s surgery . . the hip?” I ask, taking one step forward, and then it’s two.

“Ya,” he hums in reply, sorting through what appears to be an overflowing stack of mail that’s been forgotten since his trip.

“How’d it go?”

“She’s still in. I keep waitin’ t’ hear sumthin’ but there’s nuthin’,” he answers plainly, tearing certain envelopes in half and others automatically go into the bin for shredding.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure everything will be okay, she’s really healthy and strong, Harry.”

“I dunno, Becks, ‘m so worried. It shouldn’t take this long,” he sighs, bringing a hand to his face while his head goes back and forth. It’s only a moment until I hear the hiccuping of his breath and the sound of tears shed against skin.

Against better judgement, or any for that matter, he’s in my arms in seconds. My hands are running courses up and down his back, even daring a go at his hair now and then, whilst he sheds sadness into my neck.

“Everything will be okay, Harry,” I insist, and which he only shakes his head at. “It will be, you just have to believe it. I have a feeling.”

“How can ya say that? How ‘m I s’posed t’ believe that, Becks?” he whimpers, pulling away and staring at me bleary eyed with tears coating his cheeks. “I dunno that there’ll ever be a time ‘gain where things are okay,” he finishes, spinning on his heel and escaping down the hallway, leaving me high and dry. I only wish that my eyes could claim that truth, as well, but that’d be a lie.

It smelled of metal and disinfectant around me, but I tried to drown it out with the images I scroll through. The electronic beeping wormed its way into my thoughts, but I welcomed the respite from the chaos toiling around in there. Images of friends and casual strangers litter my Instagram feed and instead of looking away when the dinging stops, I continue to look, distracting myself. That in itself seems to be my job for the last few weeks, owned by the number one job of not thinking about it. It’s followed by another important task of not crying in public, and saving it for at home despite the place owning that name changing recently. I’ve failed at all of those jobs the second I think about the person who I called my home for so long now, and can’t any longer.

The smell is what gets me at first, and immediately, the pictures are forgotten. I know before I look up that the facade is broken. Then, everything is shattered within a few moments, no matter how good I’ve gotten at ignoring him, or pushing down the feelings when I see him across the table at a team meeting. I’ve gotten good at the pretending part, but the only person I’ve never been able to do that around is the very one who accompanies me on the elevator now. My bad luck echoes when I finally chance a glance and I leave it for too long, because then he looks up and meets my eyes.

Harry. My home . . but he’s not that any longer.

“Hi,” he risks with a gentle curve of his lips, and a gentleness in his eyes that he once held in his hands for me too. A softness that never left him once I worked my way into his heart all of those years ago, it’s one that I still can’t allow myself to get rid of.

“Hi,” I return curtly, tearing my eyes away from him, and his new suit. An ensemble a shade of mauve with a raven black button up underneath. Spiffy, indeed. It feels like a mini marathon to look away from that suit, and how it hugs him in all of the right places. The biceps, the chest, opens at his widely attractive throat, reminds me of the base that we never hit when my eyes venture too low, and his bum. No, I can’t see it from my view right now, but I’d made sure to have seen it earlier today.

“‘s good timin’, I was wonderin’ if we could talk,” he ventures out on a limb to say, and my eyes are rolling before he gets to finish.

“I don’t want to talk, Harry.”

“Becks, please, jus’ lemme finish, bug,” he says, and I wonder how he can be so gutsy to use those two coveted names in one sentence. Despite his bravery, the gesture does its job, and I gulp against the longing that climbs up my throat.

“No, you don’t get to. You haven’t earned that just yet.”

“What d’I have t’ do, Becks?” Harry questions in a sigh, a hand dragging through his hair. It falls with an impatient slap to his thigh.

“I dunno, Harry, maybe you shouldn’t have become a neglectful drunk in the first place,” I retort, stepping forward to stab the button of the closest floor, so I don’t have to do this.

“How many times d’I hafta say ‘m sorry? I could say it a hundred times and ‘s not gonna be enough, ‘s it?”

“No, it won’t,” I answer, continually hitting the button.

“Stop pushin’ it, yer gonna break it or sumthin,’” he warns, and just like he said, the contraption lurches to a stop. “Now, look what ya did.”

“I didn’t break the bloody elevator, Harry.”

“Sure, ya didn’t,” he sighs and even in the near dark, I know that he’s biting at his lip beside me.

Huffing, I step back until my back hits the wall, watching him in the soft glow of the emergency lights. Slowly, that night from Halloween comes back to me. I watch how he pulls his phone out and dials a number and talks to some invisible person, just like the time before. His fingers card through his hair similarly, and his lips utter sighs and curses like then too.

“‘s tha snowstorm, ‘s shut off tha power in tha entire firm,” he announces after saying goodbye and pulling his phone away from his ear. “They’ll get t’ us but it might be a while.”

“Doesn’t the firm or at least the elevator have a backup or something?”

“I dunno, ‘m tha lawyer, Becks, not a bloody mechanic. I don’t deal with that shit,” he mutters with a shake of his head, typing away on his phone.

Groaning loudly, I slide down the sleek metal wall of the elevator until my bum meets the cold and dirty floor, just like before.

“I guess we’re stuck with each other for a while then, it’s your dream come true,” I mumble while folding my arms across my chest. He flits his eyes over to me only to roll them before looking away. “Oh, so you don’t want to talk to me now?”

“No, ‘d rather not, if yer not gonna try and listen t’ me,” he admits sadly, stepping back and leaning against the wall. A similar sound leaves my lips and I look down at my lap until my eyes habitually return to him. I finally let myself look at him for the first time in, what, a month? It seems like a lifetime ago that I could at last look at him for however long I wanted without it being weird or him saying something. Without my hidden feelings being betrayed. “There’s mo’ t’ do than jus’ stare at me, y’know.”

“Sorry,” I whisper, looking to my lap and turning a ring around my finger absentmindedly.

“Ya still wear it?”

My eyes dance to him without a decision to do so, like they so often did, and my nod is immediate as well. His smile seems rather instantaneous too, appearing before my eyes as I watch him. His ring on my hand had caught my eye, one of his I’d stolen at the before everything went to shit and slid it on my thumb. It’s the only finger it’d fit on, and I’d almost forgotten it was there, but it’d become a nervous habit of mine as of recent, although hypocritical in the slightest.

“I thought you’d taken it off, hadn’t seen ya wear it.”

“It felt too weird not wearing it,” I reveal softly, embarrassment fighting for a spot in my voice, but I’m not sure if that’s how it could be described.

“I guess that says sumtin’, or ‘least I hope it does,” Harry says, looking to his feet with a sad laugh that’s short, like a staccato. This all feels like one, a standalone chapter. Perhaps an episode from The Twilight Zone, almost.

“You were my best friend, Harry, that’s not something you just forget,” I say quietly, unsure of if he hears me, but his nod tells me so. If that hadn’t, the emotion that swells in his face does it for me.

“Then why did you?” he asks, meeting my eyes and I find the pain in my heart matched in the greens. A shade I’ve missed so immensely, and that grows hazy in moments. “Why’d you forget about me?”

“You really hurt me, Harry. I never thought you could hurt me so much.”

His sniffling encourages the tears that flow from my eyes to join his just as the sound of his footsteps initiates him sitting down beside me. At first, it feels too close and too dangerous, but then I look at the gap that separates us. It’s been larger and unbreakable before, but somehow, this feels exponential too. It somehow had returned after its departure when I had pressed my lips to his, because after that, neither of us let it live again, and we always took the step that wasn’t there.

“So, what do I say if I can’t say sorry?” he says in a voice choked with pain, propping his arms on his bent knees out of the corner of my eye, holding his wrist with a circle of fingers.

“I dunno,” I answer tearfully, wiping below my waterline, wishing I had the answers so that all of this could stop. “I wish I knew, but I don’t. If I knew I’d tell you, because then this all could be over, and I could stop missing you so fucking much every literal second. Then I could stop getting jealous of that booby intern who won’t stop throwing herself at you. I tried not to be jealous by not caring, but I couldn’t lie to myself, because I do care and I always will, Harry. I’ll always miss you . . in bed next to me with your arms always waiting for me, your face at our table at Pedro’s on Tuesdays waiting there for me, every day after work waiting on my sofa until I’m ready to go home with you . . ,” I trail off in a sob, thoughts bubbling inside of my lips but they become too hard to speak.

“‘m still waitin’, Becks, ‘ve never stopped since that day I first met you,” he says in a voice softer than marshmallows and sweeter than honey. “‘ll always be waitin’ fer you.” Since that first day I had met him, you never could’ve made me believe that looking into his face I’d see a mirror, but I believe it more today than I ever thought I could. Because I am, in the way the tears silently fall down his cheeks, the openness of his eyes that beg for me, and the way that mine beg for him too.

“‘s it true ya put in yer two weeks?” Quickly, I shrink and I avoid, ignoring everything altogether, but if I’ve learned one thing through this all is that I can’t do that as badly as I wish I could. “‘m still yer boss, Becks, sumthin’ like that can’t get away from me. I saw tha letter on My’s desk one day and when he saw me readin’ it, he told me . . Becks, please don’t leave. Yer learnin’ so much and we all love you here. Yer doin’ so well, and there’s so much I want t’ teach you. Turner and Jones ‘s . . . ‘s not yer home, love, this ‘s yer home.”

“I thought you were my home once and I was wrong,” I don’t know why I say it, but I do, and immediately I regret it. Without seeing him, I know that he wishes I hadn’t said it too, by the intake of air and the way he turns away from me.

“Y’know, I think ‘ll get sick o’ fightin’ fer you, but I don’t. I get tired, but I don’t get sick o’ it. I never wanna stop. I wanna tell our kids one day that I never stopped fightin’ fer you, and sometimes I think it’ll happen. But, I dunno- When I saw you kiss that bloke, I stopped believin’ in it.”

Gulping, my eyes find him immediately and the tears ricochet throughout my body from his words. The sounds of his crying prick at my ears, but I don’t see them fall down his face, just the way he plays with his lips.

“Harry-.”

“I love you and ‘m sorry. ‘ll never stop showin’ you that fer tha rest o’ me life, what more do I hafta do?” he begs, turning to face me. My heart squeezes inside of my chest at the mere sight, and my lips press themselves together. “But if ya- if ya tell me that . . yer happy with him, then ‘ll stop. I want yer happiness mo’ than mine,” he croaks, words stolen from him at times as mine are drowned in salt water.

Whimpering, the sight of my hands wringing each other appears in front of me, and then his pained sigh meets my ears. Hiccups rack my chest and I stop hiding the crying, listening to it echo off of the walls that remain still around us.

“His name’s Ben-.”

“I know who he ‘s,” he says gingerly, but with disdain that tries to push me back, and make me stop. “‘ve argued cases against him . . both lost and won.”

“I met him during my clinicals there, he-.”

“I don’t wanna hear ‘bout him, Becks, I-I can’t,” Harry announces firmly, standing to his feet and beginning to walk in circles.

“I ended things with him last week, not that there was much to end . . that same day you must have seen us kiss outside the courts . . after he shoved me to the floor that night. And he wasn’t you, nobody else could ever be you.”

“What?!” he nearly explodes, the words ringing loudly in my ears again and again as they resound off of the walls. “Oh, that bloke’s not gonna know what hit him when I get my fookin’ hands on him.”

“Harry-.”

“Tell me that you don’t want me t’ beat tha shit outta him, Becks,” Harry insists, but with my eyes not looking at him, I remain silent. “That’s what I thought . . Bloody minute this lift starts workin’ ‘gain, ‘m gonna make him regret ever touchin’ you.”

Nodding, I brush the back of my hand against my nose and feel a sob overcome me. My shoulders fall and I pull my knees into my chest, soon feeling the tears soak through my slacks.

“Aw, honeybug,” he sighs pitifully, and at last, one of my dreams comes true when I feel him surround me with his warmth. Him. “I had no idea you’ve been dealin’ with that, ‘m so fookin’ sorry, Becks. ‘m so sorry you’ve had so much shit t’ deal with, ya don’t deserve any o’ this. He’s a fookin’ sorry excuse fer a man fer doin’ that t’ you and trust me ‘m gonna make him sorry. He’s a right wanker, and he only ever won one case against me, anyways. Damn idiot, he ‘s.”

Swallowing dryly, I meet his eyes and receive anything but that. The green is drowned in tears nearly, and I know that my blue is, too.

“Reckon ‘m not much betta than him, afta all,” Harry confesses with a fight played in his eyes.

“No, you’re nothing like him, Harry,” I coo, reaching out a hand to cradle his cheek, thumb swiping at tears.

“Yer right, ‘m much worse than him fer how I treated you.”

“What? Harry, no, you’re not. I know you’d never lay a hand on me,” I confess in a voice that cracks, breaths laden with unsaid words, and so many that I don’t know how to say. Nodding, his eyes leave mine and his arms prematurely do too, and I only feel worse. “Talk.”

“What?” he whispers, quirking a brow at the floor.

“Talk, Harry . . like you had wanted to . . to me,” I explain, my hand lingering on my knee, so close to his. Bravely, it finds the courage and reaches out towards him, finding the warmth soon after between his fingers.

“‘ve rehearsed it so many bloody times in me head, but now, I actually get t’ talk t’ you and I can’t rememba,” he admits softly with shame painting his voice, and an out of place smile. “All I know . . ‘s that I miss you and it scares me how much I can miss you sittin’ at a meetin’ with you across tha table. I miss you like you’ve gone . . but inna way, you have. I miss you in so many ways, walkin’ in tha door at home t’ you, findin’ you’d claimed me sofa again fer anotha day workin’ t’getha, or even that you’d be usin’ one o’ me favourite coffee mugs or jumpers. I miss those small things, and then, I even miss wakin’ up next t’ you, talkin’ t’ you ‘bout songs, ‘bout art, or gettin’ yer advice on a recipe or an argument inna case. ‘d missed you like mad befo’, but nuthin’ compares t’ this. Didn’t know I could miss somebody so much that ‘m always sore from it, that I ache when I see you and can’t touch you or talk t’ you. I lost it when I saw him kiss you, I went and vomited in tha car park befo’ goin’ home t’ cry in bed. Our bed. I wanted a drink and thought ‘bout it . . I even had one and I felt worse, knowin’ that it only made it mo’ likely ‘d never get ya back then. Thought seein’ that I.T. intern flirt with you in tha copier room hurt, but god, that was nuthin.’”

“You try seeing that intern who dresses like a hooker be all over you,” I tut, refamiliarizing myself with the grooves and peaks on his rings.

“Are ya quite finished?” he almost giggles and I nod with a fleeting smile.

“It hurt not seein’ you reject him and then ‘course My’ had t’ guilt me ‘bout it, and -.”

“Okay, that’s enough talking,” I announce inside of my head with a shake of it, my lips parting to utter the same declaration. But I’m interrupted almost immediately, and so is Harry by the whirring and movement of the lift starting up again.

“Looks like tha power came back on or sumthin’,” he mumbles, standing to his feet as the lights flick back on.

“Yeah, looks like,” I say under my breath, so many more ready to be spoken but they’re whisked away when the doors part on Seventeen and soon, we’re ambushed with concerned colleagues who mistake our tears for fear. Quickly, so much was forgotten, but what hurt was how easily we both did it too.

The notes of cinnamon and nutmeg cling to my tongue, accompanied by the sweetness of the last traces of whipped cream. With a sigh, I set down the mug and hear its emptiness fill my ears. I continue to dance my eyes across the page, soaking up the words that I try to drown myself in. The dinging of the bell atop the door interrupts the words echoing in my mind, as do the clap of footsteps entering the cafe amongst the soft Christmas music. Without fail, they attempt to weed their way into my heart, making me think that they’re his, but everything sounds like him and feels like him as of late.

Pushing it away, I shake my head free of the nagging thoughts and start the sentence over. At the sound of a voice that steps into my mind, the words are forgotten, and no rereading them could ever bring them back to me.

“Since when d’ya read ol’ granny romance books?”

Tearing my eyes away from the imaginative words, I find the pair of green eyes that I’ve been avoiding and longing within all of the same breaths.

“I see yer mug ‘s empty. Can I buy you anotha?” he murmurs with his charming smile that finds its old way back to me, and into my heart. Just like all of those times before.

“I uh, was actually just leaving,” I mutter, the book already having closed when my hands left it in shock. Picking it up, I drape my purse over my shoulder and walk away from him. No matter if it doesn’t take the cake for how much it hurts to do so, the pain still stings in my mind and every inch of my limbs.

“Becks, wait!” he calls after me, the clanging of the bell loud and obnoxious in my ears. The winter cold shocks my warmed skin when I step back into it. “I wanna talk t’ you ‘bout sumthin’, yer two week-.”

“I don’t want to,” I retort, rounding a corner and searching for the familiar sight of my car parked on the street. I’m feeling cold rather than hot in finding it before his always gentle hands settle on my shoulders. He turns me around to face him, once again finding those piercing greens that root me to the spot.

“I thought we could still be friends, Becks. Y-Yer me best friend, I can’t lose you as a friend too, bug. Please,” he pleas, but I’m spinning around before the last of his syllables grace my ears.

My head shakes from side to side, willing my eyes to dry up and forget their recent best friend that drowns my sights in a haze. My lips sing with pain from my teeth sinking into them as my face collapses from the debilitating weight of misery.

“I-I can’t. We can’t, you know that, Harry.”

“Why not, Becks?” he begs, the cool feeling of his rings welcomed by my flushed skin.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you when you know why,” I spit back, sure that three seconds ago he had already heard the tears in my voice. The multitudes of words shared between our lips over the last ten months has only led me to open myself to him further, and I still can’t figure out how to close my book from him reading.

“I dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout, Becks.”

“It only took you a month, Harry?!” I exclaim, unsure of whether I’m making a statement or posing a question.

“Care t’ clue me in what yer talkin’ ‘bout, ‘cuz I still dunno?” he replies with an exasperated sigh. I rip my wrist from his gentle grasp, the sooner the better because I knew another second longer and I’d let it live there. If I stand here another second longer, I may let myself float back to him.

“You’re already over me and with somebody new after only a month, huh?” I respond curtly, turning around slowly to face him as the first hot tear cascades down my cheek.

“Becks,” he sighs, the emotion carried in his voice spreading across his unshaven face. A whimper escapes my lips as the sob trembles throughout my chest, my lips returning to their permanent frown. My heart shudders at his expression and the confirmation I hear in it, making my head shake quickly from side to side. “I still dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout, love. ‘m not datin’ anyone, y’know tha only person I wanna be with ‘s you. N’body else in tha entire world I wanna date and love fer tha rest o’ me life . . Where ‘s this comin’ from, bug?”

“Wait, what?” I exhale, blinking away the tears that I’m afraid to believe hold lies and forgotten fears.

“‘m not with anybody new, Becks. I dunno what people are sayin’, but ‘m not. You know tha only person I wanna be with ‘s you,” he repeats with emphasis, stepping forward and pulling my hands into his. “What’s goin’ on, bug?”

“I don’t know,” I exhale shakily, leaning into his hand that cups my cheek, wiping away the wetness coating my skin. “People at the firm were saying they overheard you talking about some girl you were gonna ask out and were trying to win over.”

“Oh that,” he snickers, the dimples hinting at his cheeks when I dare a look. No matter how hard I’d ever try, the high pitched song that flows from his lips could never stop being my favorite, and my ears welcome it with a familiar warmth. “That was ‘bout you, bug. I was bouncin’ ideas off o’ sumbody ‘bout takin’ you onn’a date. Well, it was actually havin’ you ova t’ mine fer dinna and watchin’ FRIENDS, jus’ like tha old times. Reckon Rore misheard and his big mouth spewed it t’ ev’rybody. That fookin’ git, I swear t’ God, he’s a bloody bastard sumtimes.”

“Yeah, it was him, now that I think of it,” I admit quietly, peering down at our joined hands and our mingling rings, just like all of the times before.

“‘m gonna fookin’ knock him out one o’ these times, I swear t’ it. He’s been such an arse lately, and he thinks I didn’t see it, but I did see him flirtin’ with you tha otha day.”

“It’s fine, Harry.”

“No, ‘s not, Becks. You put yer bloody two weeks in, and yer last day ‘s t’morro’,” Harry sighs heavily, bringing my eyes back to his at last, and ever so briefly. The purple gemstone ring that I bought him as a late Valentine’s present grows blurry before my eyes, and only worsens when I see that he never took it off. My wrist feels all the more bare without the multicolored purple gemstone bracelet he gifted me after my accident, and that’s sat on my nightstand at Skye’s for weeks now.

I’m issing that coffee right about now with the state of my throat. Perhaps it would push down all of the words that I have been aching to say for days and weeks now.

“Please stay, bug. Not even jus’ fo’ me, but I don’t wantcha t’ lose a good job. Yer doin’ so well and e’rybody at tha firm loves you, babe . . ‘specially me. I know I fooked up real bad, but I promise it won’t happen again if ya gimme another chance-,” Harry begins in a plea, the same emotions that bubble inside of me echo within his voice. When I steal a glance at his olive green eyes, I find them swimming in tears, and that’s what pushes me to surround his lips with mine.

His buttery soft curls feel like home between my fingers, and my rickety heart begins to slow at the smell of his sweet-peppery scent. Neither of those compare to the feeling of his lips upon mine for the first time in weeks, and the passion carried behind both of ours. Unspoken words, profuse apologies, and hundreds of ‘I miss you’s are left on the other’s lips. His nose leaves slippery marks against my cheek slick with tears, and I can taste them on his skin as well.

Air trickles back into my burning lungs when I gasp for air below him, stealing whispery kisses from his sweet lips now and then.

“Was that a random kiss or a ‘get back togetha’ kiss?” he rasps against my lips, finalizing his words with one last peck to my mouth.

“A ‘get back together’ k-kiss,” I stutter with a soft titter, feeling it fill me with warmth at the sight of his dimples returning to his cheeks from their few week absence. “I missed you . . even r-right now,” I sob, the breath leaving my lungs when my chest collides with his after I dive into his arms. A surprised noise sputters from his mouth but his arms coming around me is instantaneous, and so is the comfort I feel in them.

“Missed you mo’, bug,” he whispers into my hair, laying kisses on every inch of my head that he can find while I laugh at our inside joke. “Fook, ‘m so sorry fer how I treated ya and fer gettin’ drunk all o’ tha time ‘cuz o’ that stupid case. I meant what I said when I came back from me trip - I haven’t had a drop since that night we broke up, and I won’t fer as long as you want me t’. ‘ll do anythin’ ya want, we’ll do therapy or counselin’- jus’ want us t’ be okay, and fer you t’ let me love you ‘gain. There’s n’body else in this entire world that I wanna be spend me life with, or have babies with one day.”

“Harry,” I chuckle against his neck, my forever favourite hiding place, whether happy or sad. “We’ve been back together for two seconds, chill on the baby talk.”

“No, I mean it. I want ya t’ have me babies one day, nuthin’ eva changed ‘bout that, and nuthin’ eva will. Think I love ya mo’ now, Becks, so much mo’,” Harry sighs, and with his confession I can feel his body relax against mine. It’s quite contagious, really.

“I reckon I still want you to be the father of mine . . teach them how to play footie, how to play guitar, and how to play a shit game of Scrabble.”

“Hey now!” Harry exclaims, the words rumbling through his chest with his deep chuckle. When I pull away from him to peer into his glassy, green eyes, his lips quiet. The laugh disappears from them, but shouts of happiness and relief fill my eyes, and I think mine feel rather similar to his. “Bloody hell, if they’re as stubborn as you, we’re in fer some trouble.”

“Like you’re any better,” I giggle, but it’s stolen away by his lips, and I couldn’t be more thankful.

“This mean you’ll be me mentee ‘gain, and forget ‘bout that crazy talk o’ quittin’ tha firm?” he poses to me, dragging a few fingers through my hair, sending jolts of comfort through my limbs. “Please, Becks?”

“Of course, Harry. There’s no other lawyer I’d want to learn from- don’t tell Rose that, because she’s been amazing, but she’s just not you. She’s not my favourite teacher or my best friend . . and I’ve really missed them,” I reveal softly, and sadly, the tears adorning my words. The both of them fall onto the pad of his thumb that nudges at my bottom lip affectionately.

“‘ve missed me favourite lawyer as well, Becks. God, so fookin’ much. I can’t lose me best friend, not again,” he whimpers, the last word breaking under the weight of his tears that match mine.

“And please, for the love of God, get rid of that intern before I do,” I groan, and a snicker springs from his angelic lips. “Because if I see her flirt with you one more fucking time, I will puke . . on her.”

“Don’t worry, ‘ve been lookin’ fer a good reason t’ get rid o’ her, so this ‘s perfect, bug,” he coos happily, pulling me back into his arms where I’ve been craving to return for oh, so very long. “Hope y’know I still want ‘bout five kids.”

“Shut up, Harry,” I titter, my arms tightening around his middle as I find the sweet spot in the crook of his neck.

“Five babies, Becks, and all with you, honeybug. Li’l girls that look like you and li’l boys that look like me, all with yer gorgeous blue eyes. They’ll have tha best mum eva, they will,” my happy hum accompanies his, almost accentuates it as I toy with the cross sat at the junction of his throat and his shoulders. “Can’t say sorry enough, ‘m afraid, so ‘ll spend tha rest o’ me life sayin’ it t’ you. Promise you that.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” I almost joke, and when I hear his songlike laugh, I at last let out the breath that I had been holding for far too long.

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junietc · 5 years ago

Text

not just a friend - steve rogers

steve rogers x reader

pairing: steve rogers/captain america x reader

word count: 7213

summary: friday nights used to be lazy nights but maybe helping steve finish his pop culture list instead wouldn’t be all that bad

warnings: swearing, maybe some sex relate jokes but all in all just a fluffy one shot

a/n: this is a reallllll long one haha. for our lovely captain, steve rogers, we have a not so short one shot i’ve been working on for the past few weeks. please leave requests and remember to show some love :))

hope you enjoy ~

Friday night meant a lazy night in Y/n's eyes.

It meant staying at the Avengers compound in her favourite pajamas, either reading a book or watching some new Netflix movie Tony was raving about.

It also meant she finally would get some peace and quiet seeing as Friday night was when Tony and Pepper went on their date night, Steve went out with Bucky and Sam to explore the modern world, and Clint and Natasha dragged Bruce out of the lab to have some fun.

Of course, it wasn’t that she wasn't invited to join them, (asides from Tony and Pepper's date night) but she always chose to stay at home.

Say it’s because she wanted a day to let her feet rest or say she just wanted to enjoy the couple hours she had to herself without any obnoxious shouting being tossed around the compound.

Whatever the reason was, Y/n was used to being alone on Friday night.

So, you could only imagine her surprise when she saw a certain blue-eyed captain plop down, right next to her on the couch.

Raising a brow, she turned her head towards the super soldier. "Steve? What are you still doing here?” pausing slightly, she winced at her choice of words. “Sorry, that sounded really harsh. Aren't you supposed to be out? You know, fraternizing with the modern world with your little trio?" she heard him laugh before shaking his head.

"Yes actually. But I had some extra work to do, so I told Buck and Sam that they could go out on their own," Y/n nodded, unsure of what to say. She saw him let out a wistful sigh, more than enough evidence to tell her that he wished he could be with them.

Pausing the movie that was playing on the screen, she crossed her legs and turned to face him. "What do you guys do when you go out?" he looked at her surprised.

"Oh! Well, I try to check off my pop culture "to do" list. I've had it for a while and all the things are pretty stupid but I guess I just really want to finish it,” he told her, pulling out the small notebook from his back pocket.

Peering down and scanning through the list quickly, she noticed he still had more than half to check off. Y/n pursed her lips, looking down at her comfy over sized t-shirt and sighed slightly. I suppose now is a better time than ever to become closer to Steve. Allowing any possibilities of a peaceful evening to leave her mind she shook her and flashed him a grin. "Well than, get that American ass up and dressed because we're checking another thing off this list!" she announced enthusiastically standing up.

"What do you mean?" Steve chuckled watching her point at his notebook.

"I mean we're doing at least one of these. Lemme see, ooh! Are you hungry? I'm sure I could eat. Let's go get some Thai food! We could go to this restaurant that does takeout and then, hmm, 'I love Lucy'? I haven’t seen that show in ages, we could watch it when we get back at the tower," she looked up and saw Steve staring at her, a grin etched on his face. "What are you staring at? Let’s go!" she ushered Steve off the couch, making him laugh as she ran into her own room.

Changing out of her pajamas’ and into a simple t-shirt and jeans, she undid her messy ponytail and fumbled with her hair until she felt presentable.

She got out of the room and met up with Steve, who was had threw on a pair of jeans and his leather jacket over his shirt. The two took off and headed into the elevator. "The place isn't that far so we could walk there if that's alright with you," she told him.

"Sounds good," she smiled at him and they headed out to the restaurant. The walk was short as she had anticipated, the two chatting among themselves about their day and miscellaneous stories about their teammates.

They ordered their takeout before quickly heading back to the tower, the walk back filled with Y/n complaining about how cold it had suddenly gotten. Once they had gotten back to the tower, Y/n fired up the television and put on the first episode of "I Love Lucy" as the two changed into some comfier clothes.

"Alright, Thai food and I love Lucy. Lucky you Rogers, you've got yourself one of the best combinations in life," Y/n joked as she snuggled into the couch and started to eat some Pad Thai. Steve smiled at the girl, happy that someone cared this much to cancel their plans just for him. (Though her plans were hardly anything that needed canceling)

"I suppose I am lucky aren't I," he winked at her as she snorted in response.

The night trailed on, and it had been closing in on two hours of watching when the two had realized that it was getting late and they should be getting some sleep. They cleaned up and Y/n was about to retire to bed when Steve stopped her. "Hey, Y/n?"

She turned around and leaned against the door frame of her room. "Mhm?" she hummed in response.

"Thank you for tonight. It was nice of you to go out of your way to help me check off my list. It means a lot to me," he sent her a warm smile.

She smiled back, "it's no problem." He nodded before bidding her a goodnight. Before he could leave, Y/n’s voice stopped him. “Hey, I just had an idea. Why don't I help you check off your entire list? Anytime we're free we'll try and do another thing on your list. How's that sound Captain?"

A wide and goofy grin emerged on Steve's face. "That sounds perfect."

******

Nearly two weeks had passed, due to a rouge mission, before Y/n and Steve finally had another day off.

It was Saturday morning and Y/n was brain dead. Her thoughts were dispersed throughout her brain, trying to figure out where the next spot the criminal they were trying to catch would be. Not to mention she was running off seven cups of coffee and two hours of sleep so you could only imagine the chaos that was her mind.

She took a pause from her frantic typing and eyed the numerous tabs she had opened and papers that were scattered across her desk. Under her breath she cursed at how little progress she had made before returning to her laptop.

After an hour of dead ends and two more cups of coffee, Y/n decided it was pointless. “Who am I kidding. I should just give this case to someone at S.H.I.E.L.D," she stretched her neck and ran her fingers through her hair. A nap sounded like a nice idea at the time, but her plans were interrupted by a sudden knock on her wall.

Looking up from her work she saw Steve leaning against the door frame, a concerned look on his face. She threw her hand up in attempts to greet him. "Hey Cap, what's up?"

"Just checking up on you. Everything alright? You looked stressed," he questioned, concern laced in his voice. He walked over and examined her workspace. "You know you have the day off, right? You really should be relaxing. Working everyday isn't good for you.”

She scoffed, shaking her head, "Is Steve I-Need-To-Solve-This-Problem-Right-Now-Or-I-Will-Never-Forgive-Myself Rogers telling me to relax?” noticing his eyes roll she smiled. “Hey, I get what you mean. I guess I just though if did some more work I’d be able to help some more. But now all I’ve got to show for it is my Word doc with a billion typos and dead ends,” a sad laugh escaping her mouth.

"Don't say that," he spoke sternly. She raised an eyebrow at him as he picked up one of her lists, "There's a ton of good ideas here Y/n. You're just missing a few things and that’s probably just because you’re half asleep. You know what would help with that?" Y/n cocked a brow as he shook her slightly. "Taking a break."

Y/n broke into a grin when he pulled out the small notebook. "Are you just trying to get me to help you check off this list?" he grinned cheekily.

"Maybe."

*******

The two agreed that they needed to get some air, so Y/n suggested that they go to the planetarium. Maybe Steve could learn a thing or two about what recently happened in the solar system within the last seventy years he had been frozen.

When they got in, Steve was surprised to see a large dome with dozens of seats all lined up in a semicircle. Y/n grabbed his hand and dragged him over to sit down. "Trust me. Just watch," before he knew it, the lights switched off and various projections started to appear on the ceiling above them.

The patterns arranged themselves into different planets and stars and a deep voice began to play from a speaker. The two watched the whole show and listened intently, Steve occasionally chuckling due to Y/n whispering a few stupid jokes every so often.

After a solid hour or so, the two had to leave and head back to Avengers headquarter for training.

They walked in a comfortable silence, admiring the scenery and laughing at dumb jokes from time to time. Heading closer to the tower, they noticed a pair of figures being Sam and Bucky, waiting and chatting at the front entrance. "Hey Buck! Sam," Steve greeted the two men. Y/n sent a wave which they returned with soft smiles. The three of them chatted and Y/n noticed she was fourth wheeling, so she decided to bid the men a goodbye as she went in to change for her sparring with Nat.

Slipping into a tank top and her old pair of gym shorts, she grabbed a bag filled with simple necessities and headed into the elevator.

She made her way down to the training room, seeing Natasha talking to Clint who was practicing his shots. Quickly tying up her hair, she made her way over towards the two. "Hey, you ready for sparring?" Natasha greeted her, motioning towards the already set up mat.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

*******

After what felt like years of sparring, practicing her aim in the shooting range and weapon practice, Y/n was exhausted. She made her way over to the break station where Clint and Natasha were drinking water and cooling down.

"I swear I come out of training with a new body part broken each week,” she groaned, her muscles sore and her body sweaty. The pair chuckled as Y/n collapsed onto the chair in front of them.

"I noticed you and Steve have been hanging out quite a bit this past month. What have you been doing?" Clint remarked, throwing a towel towards Y/n, which she easily caught and used to wipe the sweat off her face.

"Well, I've been helping him do everything on his checklist since he's had it for a while," she replied simply, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and taking a large gulp of the icy cold liquid. Natasha smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow.

"And you’re saying that’s the only thing happening during all this, one on one time?" Y/n nearly spat out the water she was drinking before turning to the ex-assassin. Clint, who had been trying to keep his laughter in check, looked at Y/n's face and completely lost it. "Well?"

"Nat!" Y/n exclaimed in a hush tone, looking around to see if anyone heard her. Turning back, she sent a glare. "Are you serious?" Natasha crossed her arms, the look on her face telling her that she wouldn’t stop if Y/n didn’t answer the question. Y/n sighed, "no. There are you happy? We're just friends alright? That's all that we are, all that we'll ever be. Jeez." Breathing heavily, Y/n shook her head.

Can’t believe her. Why would she think Steve and I would ever – no way that could happen.

Nat and Clint shared a look with each other before shrugging and changing topics. Noticing that they weren't talking about her anymore, she casually grabbed an apple and bit into it. She watched Steve sparring with Bucky and smiled as his eyes met hers.

Her stomach did that weird thing again, that caused her to feel all giddy inside and her heart seemed to be beating faster than usual. Confused, she looked down wondering what was going on in her body.

It's probably just from sparring for so long.

It was obvious to any outsider that she was incredibly wrong.

*******

A few days had passed, and Steve and Y/n had hung out a few times, grabbing lunch together or merely just chatting in the compound.

Y/n was minding her own business, when a sudden realization had struck. Getting up from her comfortable spot on her bed, she made her way to the living room where Steve was seated, watching an old re-run of a television show.

"You know what Rogers? I've realized that I've been helping you do what everyone else wants you, yet I haven't added anything to your list. We're going to change that," Y/n randomly announced, plopping down onto the couch next to him.

He looked over at her, her face in full concentration, trying to find the perfect thing to add to his list. Laughing he cocked an eyebrow at her, "Oh really? And what is something so revolutionary that I just have to add to my list."

Thinking deeply, her eyes lit up before smiling widely at him. "Snicker doodles."

*******

"Steve! You're supposed to save the cinnamon for rolling the cookies in! Not for putting it inside the batter!" Y/n was laughing, as she tried to stop Steve from screwing up the recipe and mixing the wet ingredients.

"Well you said dry ingredients. Unless something has changed in the past seventy years, I'm fairly certain that cinnamon is dry," he retorted, watching her roll her eyes at him.

The two were trying to bake snicker doodles, Steve making quite hard too, as the Trouble man Soundtrack was playing in the background. Y/n made the snarky remark that since Steve still hasn't listen to it since Sam hadn't shut up about it.

When 'Trouble Man' played, Y/n smiled to herself. Dancing, as she mixed the bowl, she swayed to the melody and made her way towards Steve. Humming along to the song, she started to sing. "I come up hard baby, but now I'm cool. I didn't make it sugar, playin' by the rules. I come up hard baby, but now I'm fine," Y/n removed the whisk from his hand and replaced it with her own hand. "Dance with me?"

Steve looked at her and smiled brightly. The two swayed together in sync. Y/n placed her hands on his shoulders before placing her face into his chest. Steve looked slightly shocked before smiling and placing his hands on her waist. "I'm checkin' trouble-"

"-sugar, movin' down the line" Steve interrupted, causing Y/n to snap her head up and stare at him incredulously.

"I thought you hadn't heard this yet?"

"Sam manages to sneak this song on every time we're in a car," smiling and laughing, the two look down to realize that the flour on Steve's shirt had transferred to Y/n's hair. "You'd better clean that out, here let me help."

Steve shoots his hand out to ruffle her hair but Y/n ducks down fast enough. "Not so fast old man. I may lack braincells, but I do have eyes and I can see that your hands are clearly covered in flower,” she pointed an accusing finger at him. "Alright, now that you're done throwing flour everywhere. We can start making balls of dough and covering them in the cinnamon sugar," the two shared giggles before grabbing small handfuls of dough and rolling them in between their hands.

After covering the last few cookies, it was time to throw them in the oven. Y/n was holding the tray and Steve opened the oven. A breeze of hot air blew across her face, causing her to scrunch up her nose before placing the tray in the middle of the rack. "You said how long until they're done?" Steve asked her.

"Approximately 10 minutes, so at 6:36," she replied, closing the oven and punching in the numbers. She turned around to face him. "Meaning we should clean up the mess we made before the others come and see what we've been up to all day."

They started cleaning up the mess they had created, throwing most of the utensils and bowls into the dishwasher and putting away all the leftover ingredients. Realizing that the soundtrack had played through, she made her way over to her phone and opened the music. "Which band was it that you also needed to listen too?" she asked Steve, who opened his small notebook.

"This band named Nirvana?" Y/n's eyes sparkled at the mention. Steve chuckled watching her facial expression turn excited and enthusiastic. "What? Do you know them or something?"

She looked over her shoulder and stared at him incredulously. "Know them? I love them! How have you never listened to – you know what? I'm just going to play it," she pressed shuffle on her phone before placing it down and heading over to clean up the last few things.

Grabbing a towel, she started to dry a few of the plates and placing them away. Music played, and Y/n sung along, dancing without a care in the world.

"Ooh! This is my favourite song!" Y/n dropped the towel in her hand and grabbed the spoon from the counter, bringing it up to her mouth. "Come as you are, as you were. As I want you to be. As a friend, as a friend. As a known enemy," she danced around the room, pretending she was on a stage, singing her heart out. Steve watched her sing and point at him, laughing to himself at how adorable she looked. "Take your time, hurry up. The choice is yours, don't be late. Take a rest as a friend. As an old-" she climbed onto the counter and used her free hand to dramatize her performance.

"Memoria, memoria, memoria, memoria." Once the lyrics finished, she danced around to the music and hopped off the counter. Panting slightly, she brushed the stray hairs out of her face before interlocking eyes with Steve and smiling goofily.

"Now that was a performance," Steve applauded her as she jokingly curtsied while laughing. The two shared a smile before cleaning up again and singing along to the songs.

Steve admired the girl, throwing a glance towards her every so often. His stomach seemed to be doing flips and he soon realized -

He was falling in love.

*******

About a month or so had passed and the subject of whether Steve and Y/n were dating was a frequently brought up topic. Many of the team members believed that it was all a secret and they were hiding their relationship, such as Tony, Clint and Sam. On the other end, a few of them thought that they were too pussy to go up and ask the other on a date such as Natasha and Bucky.

Of course, Bruce decided to stay out of all of this, but he did have his hopes that their relationship would soon evolve into something more than friendship.

To be completely honest, Y/n and Steve themselves had no clue what was going on.

The two liked each other tremendously.

Well that was obvious.

But they never truly acted on it, aside from Y/n's flirty remarks, but that was just her usual behavior, and remained friends.

It was quiet Friday night when Y/n was bored out of her mind. Dangling upside down from her bed, her eyes bore a stare into the wall.

A minute had passed before she decided that she was thirsty and headed down to the kitchen for something to drink. "Where's something to do when you need it?" she murmured, her fingers running through her hair as a yawn escaped her lips.

Once she opened her eyes, she saw a tall, dark haired figure standing in the kitchen. I mean I wouldn't mind doing him but – “Y/n?" her head snapped up.

"Oh, hey Bucky. What's up?" she asked as she made her way to the cabinets, grabbing a glass.

"Not much," she nodded before pouring water from the pitcher. "You know I was just talking to Natasha about your current love life," she looked at him, confused at why he was bringing this subject up, but nodded, taking a sip from her glass. "And I was wondering whether or not you and Steve were ever going to date."

Spitting out the water in her mouth, she looked up at the ex-assassin, her eyes nearly bulging out their sockets. "What?" she questioned, as sly smile started creeping its way on to his face.

"All that I'm saying is that you guys have chemistry. You've been hanging out a lot and-"

"I'm just helping him finish everything on that to do list of his," she interjected, wiping the excess water from the side of her face.

"Yeah and you're probably the last thing on it," Bucky grumbled quietly, making sure she didn't hear him. "What I was saying, is that you both should at least try and go on a date. I know Steve hasn't had something remotely close to a relationship in the last seventy years so I'm sure a date could fix him right up."

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes at his suggestion. "Why don't you go on a date with him then? He basically sacrificed his whole friendship with Tony for you. I smell a movie idea," she mocked in a sing-song voice. Bucky sighed before turning around to face the girl.

"I'm being serious Y/n."

She stared at him dead eye and crossed her arms. "And so am I. So, understand when I say that nothing will ever happen between me and Steve. He's just a friend," with that she walked out of the kitchen, grumbling to herself that she was hungry as Bucky rolled his eyes. “Also tell Natasha to stop blabbering about my love life to everyone!”

"They're even more perfect for each other than I thought. Stupidly oblivious though," he face-palmed before rubbing his eyes in annoyance. "God, I swear if I’m not Steve's man of honour when they get married."

*******

"I still can't believe you haven't seen any of the Star Trek movies. I thought you would've at least watched one with Sam or someone," Y/n rolled her eyes, settling down with popcorn next to Steve.

He chuckled slightly as he spread the blanket over top of the two of them. "Hey, at least I watched the Star-Wars movies. Tony wouldn't shut up about them until he made me watch every single one," Y/n laughed remembering the one time that Tony had barged into the meeting yelling about how Steve hadn't watched Star-Wars.

"I think you struck the most luck when you heard AC/DC early on. Tony nearly killed me when I said I only listened to one of their songs and it was Highway to Hell," she snorted, turning on the television.

About halfway into the third movie, Y/n stifled a yawn and started to lean on Steve's shoulder. She felt him tense for a second before loosening up.

The two were much too engrossed in the movie to have noticed the elevator doors opening revealing Tony and Natasha. The two of them walked into the living room and stopped when they saw Y/n and Steve together on the couch, Y/n's head on his shoulder. The two superheroes looked at each other and smirked. Tony let out a wolf whistle.

"Wow! Didn't know you still had it in you Capsicle. Especially not with our lovely Y/n! congrats," he teased, clapping his hands as they snapped their heads to look at them and Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Oh, shut it Stark. We're just watching a movie," she snapped, before turning back to face the screen.

Natasha snorted before curtsying in a mocking manner. "Oh, forgive us. Come on Stark, the lovely couple would like their privacy," Steve groaned as they snickered before making their way out of the room.

Y/n cursed something under her breath, before focusing her attention on the movie. "You know, a few days ago Bucky asked me if we were going to date."

Steve looked at her incredulously, her face blank as she shoved popcorn into her mouth. "What?" he asked her.

"He asked if we were going to date," she turned to face the shocked looking man. "I said no, don't worry. I told him we were just friends anyways," her voice quieter towards the end, chest clenching.

"Oh," Steve nodded, regaining his posture. "Just friends," his heart sunk to his stomach, as he shuffled around uncomfortably in his seat. "Right."

*******

The two had binged through the next few movies, probably landing on the ninth or tenth when Y/n started falling asleep.

Steve allowed the girl to take a nap, his eyes trailing from the screen to her.

He smiled as Y/n was snoozing softly on his shoulder. He checked on his watch and realized it was closing in on 3 am in the morning. He moved her, so she was leaning against the couch for a second before standing up and carrying her in his arms.

He walked over to her room as he walked into his Bucky eyeing him. "You and L/n have been hanging out a lot these past few weeks. You sure there's nothing going on Steve?" he teased his friend. Steve rolled his eyes before looking down at Y/n who had her face snuggled up against his chest.

"I wish I knew what it was Buck but I’m just not sure what it is," he looked down at the sleeping girl, a soft smile appearing on his face. With that he bid his goodnight before heading off.

Bucky watched his friend bring the girl into her room as he rolled his eyes. "Not sure what it is my ass. That punk knows he's in love with her."

Steve opened up the door and laid Y/n on her bed. He pressed a chaste kiss on her temple before sitting up from the bed. "'Night Y/n."

Before he could leave, he felt a hand grab onto his forearm. He saw Y/n, her eyelids only half open and her breath raspy. "Stay?" she pleaded. Steve looked at her slightly shocked. He saw her pout and gave in almost immediately.

"Alright," he laid down next to her as she turned and placed her face in his chest. He sucked on his breath, looking at the tired girl and wrapped his arm around her.

*******

Mmmm, warmth.

Y/n hummed in content as she woke up. She felt something hard pressed up against her head and opened her eyes to see Steve sleeping next to her. Her eyes widened immediately. Her first reaction to jump away before realizing that it would be too hard since his arm was wrapped around her.

Inhaling sharply, panic struck across her face. Steve's sleeping next to me. The love of my life is sleeping next to me. What am I supposed to do?

Steve's eyes blinked open, his head turning to face Y/n's embarrassed one. He smiled softly at her before murmuring a quiet 'good morning' in a low, raspy voice. Blinking slightly, makings sure this wasn't a dream, she smiled awkwardly.

"H-Hi," tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in attempt to reduce her embarrassment (which it didn't), she greeted him. "Morning. Remind me, but – er, why are you here? In bed. With me?"

Just realizing she was unsure what was going on, Steve apologized profusely. "Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn't realize that you didn't know what was happening and you were probably extremely confused and I- "

God damnit Y/n. You just totally stressed out Cap for being nice. "– Steve?" stopping abruptly, he looked at her, worry in his eyes. "I'm not upset. It was sweet of you to bring me to my room. I just wondered why you chose to stay the night with me?"

Chuckling slightly, he scratched the back of his neck. "Actually, you asked me to stay the night."

"I what."

"Yeah you kind of begged for me to stay with you last night after I dropped you off in bed," he responded nervously. Due to her shock, her eyes widened as she watched the blue-eyed man start to laugh. "Hey don't worry. I don't mind. You were really cute when you were tired, so I couldn't say no," as soon as the words had escaped his mouth, Y/n's brain started to malfunction.

Did Steven Grant Roger, aka Captain America, aka my biggest crush ever just call me cute?

"Oh?" she exclaimed; her voice uncharacteristically high. "Really now?"

Steve looked at her oddly until he realized the words he had said earlier. "Oh, oh! Sorry I didn't mean it to say that you're cute – ah! Not saying you're not, I mean you're gorgeous, prettiest girl I've ever met but – damnit! I mean –" Y/n started smiling uncontrollably, laughter tumbling off her lips. Groaning Steve cursed under his breath. "Shit."

"Steve, what are you trying to say?" she asked the super soldier, who was currently hiding his face in his hands. Smothering a laugh, she tried to move his hands away from his head. "Steve?"

"Y/n, I have to tell you something," surprised at his sudden outburst, Y/n looked at him shocked.

"Oh! Well, what is it?" her mind trailed off, wondering what he wished to talk to her about.

Fumbling around his fingers, he bit his bottom lip before looking into her eyes. "Y/n, I really like –"

"Meeting in five minutes Y/n – oh! Steve? What are you doing in Y/n's room?" Natasha interrupted glancing at the two, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You two already slept together? I mean I knew it was going to happen, but I at least expected a date or –"

Y/n started to panic, launching a pillow at the red head's direction. "Natasha! Are you serious? Get out!" the ex-assassin laughed before shutting the door.

"Fury wants us there in five minutes!" her voice trailed off as she left. Y/n rubbed her temples at the actions of her friend. Turning to face Steve, whose face was prominently red now, she tried to get him to tell her what he was going to say before they were rudely interrupted.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"I – nothing. Never mind. We should get going, don't want to leave Fury waiting," getting up and out of the bed, Y/n watched as he prepared to leave the room.

Disappointed, she replied, "oh, I get it. Tell me later?" Steve turned to face her with an unsure face.

"Sure."

*******

"They were in the same room?" Tony exclaimed loudly as Natasha shushed him with a glare. "Well sorry. I'm just asking to make sure you weren't seeing things?" he questioned, sipping some of the hot liquid in his mug.

Rolling her eyes at his distrust in her, she crossed her arms. "I'm sure Tony. I saw him when I went to call Y/n. They were deep in conversation and I'm pretty sure I wasn't just seeing things. He might've just popped into her room in the morning though. I'm not –"

Bucky, who had been quiet for most of the conversation had finally spoken up, "I saw him bring Y/n back into her room last night and he never came back out," Sam turned to face him and cocked a brow.

"And how do you know he never got out? Were you stalking him?" Clint snickered at the question, watching the soldier scoff and roll his eyes.

"That doesn't matter Wilson. The two definitely at least slept in the same room. But now to the question of whether they fu –"

Y/n's head popped in from the door and the rest of the team turned towards her, slightly surprised. "What are you guys up to?"

"Working on some tests," Bruce quickly replied, snatching random papers that were scattered on the table.

Clint rose his mug and took a sip, "snacking."

"Talking about whether or not you and Steve fucked each other last night," Natasha replied casually, watching Bruce choke on his coffee. Bucky snorted slightly, watching the h/c haired girl's face distort into shock.

Tony started laughing manically. "So, tell us Y/n? What'd the two of you do in the same room? Anything I'd like to get in the middle of?" glaring, she made a disgusted face at Tony's statement.

"Very funny Stark. We didn't do anything last night, alright? We were just watching movies and I fell asleep and Steve was a gentleman and brought me to my room," walking into the room, she grabbed a cookie from the plate on the table and munched on it.

Clint furrowed his brows before asking the next question, "but why did he stay the night? I didn't know that was a part of being a gentleman," Y/n pursed her lips, cursing under her breath. "Unless there's something you didn't mention, Y/n?" Turning around and crossing her arms she huffed.

"I might've asked him to stay," she mumbled under her breath quickly, not wishing for anyone to hear her. Bucky, who was closest to her, overheard her mutters and rose his eyebrows. Before he could say anything, Y/n cleared her throat and walked out of the room. "Now if you'll excuse me, Steve and I are heading out for lunch," seeing everyone's looks at her, she narrowed her eyes and stated, "as friends."

Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. "I mean sure it might start with being friends but a quick mouth to mouth action really can get it going for the two of you. Steve's just a little shy and won't initiate it but if you try hard enough–"

"Bucky we're not kissing."

"I never said kissing," smirking slightly he flashed a wolfish grin. "You two could always make-out instead," Y/n groaned loudly, watching the rest of the team burst in to laughs, even Bruce betraying her with his fit of giggles.

"You guys are honestly the worst. Steve doesn't like me in that way, and I don't like him in that way so there's no possible way for the two of us to date," Natasha started cackling and slammed her fist onto the table as her laughing intensified. Crossing her arms, Y/n asked, "what's so funny now Nat?"

Wiping a tear from her eye she looked at the girl and shook her head. "Alright if you and Steve aren't madly in love with each other than I guess that I wasn’t a previous assassin," Tony grinned before chiming in as well.

"And I suppose that I'm not a billionaire."

Sam chuckled before joining with the two, "and I'm not the best-looking guy on the team," everyone turned to look at him. "What?" Y/n shook her head, before looking down at her phone.

"I've got to go now. I don't want to keep Steve waiting. We'll be back in an hour or so," saying her goodbyes, she headed out for the door only getting stopped by the sound of Bucky's voice.

"That's right. No need to keep your future husband waiting to long," Y/n resisted the urge to smack him across the face but turned around and glared.

The laughter died down as she narrowed her eyes intensely, "would you please, stop?" Bucky scoffed but waved goodbye as she turned back around.

"Alright but for the wedding, can I be –"

"Oh my god you guys are so annoying!"

******

The crisp autumn air blew through Y/n's hair as she walked side by side with Steve, headed for a coffee shop downtown. This wasn't one of the things that Steve needed to do but Y/n was in the mood for a warm drink to calm her down from all the events that had occurred. Like sleeping with her massive crush.

Stopping in front of a quaint little café, Y/n opened the door and allowed Steve in. "After you, kind sir," she mocked, bow down as he chuckled.

"Well thank you doll," the slight word choice was enough for Y/n's cheeks to turn pink and for butterflies to start fluttering around in her stomach. After purchasing their drinks (and a slight banter between the two on who was paying. Y/n ended winning by swiping her card while they were arguing), the two set out for a casual stroll down the streets of New York.

They walked in a peaceful silence, enjoying the background noises of the busy streets and sipping on the drinks every so often. Y/n looked around, her eyes meeting back with his. She smiled warmly at him, her nose scrunching up as she giggled suddenly. "What's so funny?" he asked with a playful smile.

"Oh nothing," she waved him off. "I'm just remembering what the team said earlier. They were talking about us sleeping together or something dumb like that," she scoffed thinking about how dumb that idea was. Not that she wouldn't want to. God knows she does, but Steve didn't need to know that.

Not yet at least.

Steve placed one of his hands in his pocket, nodding slightly. "Oh. Yeah, Bucky was asking me about that earlier. I don't know what's gotten into them,"

"Yeah. They even joked about you liking me and whatnot. It was really weird," as soon as the words had left her mouth, Steve nodded awkwardly. Noticing something was up she turned to face the super soldier. "Everything alright?"

He nodded his head at first, "yeah, yeah don't worry about it," she nodded, going back to her original position facing forwards. It was only a few seconds after when Steve started shaking his head violently and sighing. "You know what? It's not alright," Y/n looked at him in shock.

"What do you mean? Is something wrong? Did I do something to upset you? Is – "

"I'm in love with you," pausing afterwards, he began to be extremely infatuated with his shoes, not taking his eyes off them. "I'm in love with you, Y/n L/n. And I have been for a while."

Y/n's face was red. Extremely red. "O-Oh," she could feel the blood rising to her cheeks, his sentence came outs so suddenly she hardly had time to react. Steve realized she hadn't responded and shook his head.

"You know what, I'm really sorry that was a lot to put on you and I didn't mean to just drop the bomb like that. I had a whole plan too –" Y/n pulled on his arm and leaned him downwards as she sealed his mouth with a kiss.

He tasted like the minty gum they had earlier and fresh coffee, his scent intoxicating her, sending her emotions haywire. They pulled apart, lips slightly parted, heavy breaths colliding with one another. Y/n smiled softly, once their eyes had met. "This is going to sound cliché, but you were talking way too much."

A bright grin had erupted on his face as he pulled her closer to him and pressed another kiss on her lips. His arms found their way around her waist as hers rested on his arms. Smiling once they broke apart, he said, "I suppose that was the best way to shut me up."

********

(One Year Later)

Steve never really was good at secrets. It seemed that everything he wanted to hide from his beloved girlfriend was impossible to do. Perhaps he was terrible at keeping them, but he liked to say it was because she was just so smart.

Fumbling around with the last few touches he quickly ran over to the couch and waited for Y/n too walk through the door. Jingle of the keys were heard, and a smile found its way to Steve face. "Hey babe, how are you doing?" Y/n asked as she walked in.

"I'm good," she placed a kiss on his cheek as she walked by, throwing her bag by the kitchen table. "Hey, do you mind grabbing my glasses for me in the bedroom?" he asked as she nodded, throwing her hair up into a ponytail.

Calling out to him as she headed to the room she said, "where are they?"

"They should be in the drawer next to the bed."

"Alright," she nodded as she opened the door into the room. Opening the drawer, her eyes were surprised to find a small velvet box sitting in the middle of the drawer, rose petals scattered around it. "Steve? What's all of –"

Picking up the box she turned around when she saw Steve down on one knee, a shiny diamond ring in his hand. "Y/n, doll. I know we've only been dating for a year, but I know you make me a better person and I know I love you with every single piece of my heart. You've sacrificed your time for me and your lazy Fridays," Y/n laughed as tears glistened in her eyes. "But I just want you to know I love you so much, would you do the honour of making me the happiest man in the world?"

Sobbing as tears cascaded down her cheeks she nodded aggressively. "Yes! A million times yes Steve. I love you so much," placing the ring on her finger he smiled as he took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately.

The two walked out of the room and loud cheers could be heard. "I knew she would say yes! What else could she have said?" Bucky shouted, hugging his friend who laughed.

Giggling she headed over to Natasha and Tony who hugged her tightly. "You know Steve was hiding all six of us in your bathroom? It was terribly tight. But I'm proud of you girl," Tony laughed before agreeing and ruffling her hair.

Bruce and Clint congratulated her and after harassing Steve, so did Bucky and Sam. They popped open some of Tony's celebratory alcohol and cheered. As soon as all the commotion had settled down Bucky cleared his throat. "Can I just say I predicted this like a year ago?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Honey, we all predicted this. Don't act like you were the only one," everyone laughed before they all held a toast.

"To our two favourite blind love idiots who took way too long to date but the right amount of time to get engaged!" Clint announced as everyone chorused; "To Y/n and Steve!"

Sipping their drinks, the newly engaged couple smiled at the other and kissed deeply. "I love you Y/n," Steve said as she kissed his cheek.

"I love you too, Steven Grant Rogers."

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

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7biases · 5 years ago

Text

BTS Bring the Soul Spoilers!

Okay so I’ve seen the movie and because you guys told me to go ahead and make a post about it HERE I AM! So if you don’t wanna see any spoilers don’t read further please!!

So lemme start by saying it’s a roller coaster and there are so many cute and funny moments. it started by them entering a room as they had just arrived and Yoongi starts to complain about something and Seokjin is so hungry and wants food. Jin sitting on the couch and saying “i’m panting so hard because I’m hungry” (if that isn’t me idk what is)

Lmao so Yoongi was telling us about how he made his tracks while on tour (2017) and then it cuts and he says “there’s a track called Chile. I’m Hungry. Guess I was hungry while making this” and we also see Jungkook drawing and trying to find inspiration in his small hotel room. He shows us his drawing of Gurum and it was soo good but according to him “oh this doesn’t look like Gureum at all, Gureum is prettier this is another dog” (the way he said it was so adorable)

Namjoon was talking about a story of his friend who is in the military and his girlfriend that had to wait for him. He said something like “Practically he is the one in the military and having a hard time but his girlfriend is the one waiting for him.” Then he used that story to explain how BTS might be the ones dancing and singing and having a hard time but ARMYs are the ones shouting and supporting them in the concert. (This boy always makes me emotional and i’m sorry i’m not doing his words justice).

They also show when Jungkook was injured and couldn’t perform on stage, the only thing on this baby’s mind was “I want to perform, fans are waiting” but it was pretty serious so a doctor had to make the judgement. Jungkook was asked the question “If the doc says you’re good to go what would you do?” And with no hesitation JK replied “Perform ofc” (me cry). Yoongi was with him and he just told him “there are many upcoming shows where you can perform just go to the hospital and see a doctor” they were all so worried about him because they know he loves to perform and they didn’t want him to beat himself up about it.

And they showed Jimin’s injury for a few seconds as well and Taehyung with his sore throat and Jhope’s. They showed when Taehyung cried since he couldn’t sing and everyone was there to comfort him and cheer him up. And they just go ”take a pic now we have to capture this moment” (poor baby was crying soo much, my heart cried a river).

JIMIN’S BIRTHDAY!! This scene was included and he saw the letter his dad wrote for him in english and it was soooo cute!! Namjoon translated the letter for him💜💜

ARMYs messages for BTS was included in the movie. There’s a scene where they show ARMYs talking about how much BTS mean to them and how much they helped them and it was so heartwarming. I remember one ARMY saying she got to know BTS when she had a hard time and another said that BTS taught her many things and so on. I’m so happy rn because BTS watched the movie so they saw that😭 I hope they know how much they mean to us. Anyways back to the movie.

Hoseok was outside with the manager and some people recognised him and wanted a picture but it wasn’t possible and this fan goes ”Important business?” And Hoseok just replies ”yeah Important business” (ya’ll get it? Remember when he said that a few years back?😂💜) oh and he also said “this sentence always works”😂😂

We see RJ wherever Seokjin is even my bestfriend noticed that, she was like ”why is that doll always with him” I just go ”it’s his other half, don’t comment and watch”

There’s a scene where BTS is eating at a table together and they start imitating each other. Taehyung imitated Jimin’s ”Make some noise” and he was like ”Jimin doesn’t drag it out he cuts it shortly”. And ofc they included ”I’m your hope, you’re my hope, I’m J-”. Jungkook imitated Yoongi on the stage were he always goes ”it’s so hot ARMY.. because.. of you” and the edit here literally had everyone dead. So after Jungkook says ”it’s so hot ARMY... because” it suddenly transitioned to Yoongi on stage saying ”of you” and everyone laughed out loud it was hilarious.

Namjoon was talking about some deep stuff and walking around with the camera man, then all of a sudden he stops and goes ”oh this is not the way, it’s the other way” he lost his way ya’ll like usual and he also said “it’s part of my charm” 😂💜

We see Seokjin pushing Jungkook in his wheelchair and talking to him (this was honestly the funniest thing I died) and telling Jungkook what to answer back. So Seokjin went ”ahh Jungkook worked so hard today the least I can do is push him, I was worried sick” and then he tells Jungkook to say ”Thank you Seokjin” and just continues like that. It was hilarious.

So BTS were taking pictures after concert and Yoongi just goes ”People say that we look alike a lot (him and JK)” and Taehyung just screams ”WHAT? WHO SAID THAT?!” And they all start teasing lolol

Lmao so after the credits they show the behind the scenes ish. We see (I think) Hoseok laying down with Seokjin and their trainers(?) were with them and suddenly Seokjin started doing push ups and they just go ”why are you suddenly doing that?” And Jin goes ”they’re filming”😂😂

YOONGI WORKING OUT!! We see him work out and he just goes ”ahh what if I become buff” and Jimin was on the treadmill because he wants to get better stamina for the stage. He said that he started working out again because of Fake Love since it requires a lot from him.

Jungkook cried because his voice cracked during Euphoria and everyone told him that none noticed it but baby cried so much. Then we hear Namjoon say ”I skipped 2 verses in I’m fine” and Hoseok goes ” he should be begging right now” (it was such a funny scene I almost screamed😂)

At the end of the movie there was a sentence for ARMYs that said ”I love you more than yesterday but less than tomorrow”

That’s all I remember ARMYs, I hope that BTS are resting right now and having a great time since you could really feel how tired and exhausted they were during the tour. They deserve everything good in the world and as usual Love Yourselves ARMYs💜💜💜

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cilliansaccent · 5 years ago

Text

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 3

Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!

Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.

PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!!

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Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…

Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 3,869

!!Warnings!!: None.

Date: March 2016

Chapter Name: A Heat of the Moment

Brief Chapter Outline: Cillian meets Gabrijela’s best friend while both are still in bed before they head out for breakfast. Their morning ends with time spent at a local park where things begin to spice up between the pair...

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During the night, Gabrijela had a nightmare. She woke up crying out which startled Cillian and he had her gathered in his arms, hushing her and reminding her where she was and who she was with.

He had made tea after that, and she had checked her phone to see what time it was. Around four in the morning.

Together they sat back in bed after she refreshed herself in the bathroom, his arm around her, she clutched her tea and sipped it slowly.

They soon went to bed afterwards, and she was all snuggled and warm once again in his arms.

Came morning, she was scrolling through her Instagram and Facebook, replying to messages.

Cillian stayed in bed with her and was chatting on the phone to someone. Sounded important, she thought.

He hung up and sighed, rubbing his eyes, "Later today I have to drive up to Manchester." He said.

"For filming?" She set her phone down, her heart sinking a little.

"Mhm," he laid back down on the bed, and she rolled on to her side, facing him.

"How will I get there? Or is there like an office here?" She asked. "As you can tell, I didn't read the letter again." She laughed softly.

"You'll catch the train, I believe. You'll have to pay, as the rent for this apartment is all covered by the show. Is that fine?" Cillian asked.

"Oh, sure! Yes, it's fine. I saved up as much as I could, and my dad gave me extra money, plus he gives me an additional fifty bucks a week." She said.

"Oh, that's nice. I don't really know how much that is in pounds but seems a lot." He smiled, admiring her features. He was quite shocked and mesmerised how many freckles she had, so he asked, "I'm guessing you got the perks of your mothers side, huh?"

She puffed out her cheeks, "Yeah. Lotsa freckles. And uh... Yeah." She was about to say good assets to but bit her tongue back. "Though, I was bullied as a child for it all. And as I got older, I discovered the magic of makeup. Covered the whole lot." She said, shaking her head. "But then I met my best friend who psyched me up, made me confident and to love myself."

"And you should. There isn't anything wrong with how you look, or what you have." His voice was soft and still had that rugged sleepy tone. Made her feel... things.

Her skin pricked when she felt his fingers glide through her messy bed hair, she stared into his eyes once more. Finding herself lost in them and hadn't realised he had moved closer. Or did she?

But the sound of her phone ringing made them jump away from each other, he cleared his throat.

Gabrijela picked up and her best friend, Lucia, let out a gasp.

"Hey! Wait- Oh my god whos that?!"

Gabrijela forgot for a whole second there that she could see Cillian beside her, "No one!" Gab clutched the phone to her chest.

"Hey! HEY! No use hiding now, I saw it all girl! Lemme see! Hi random guy!" Lucia cried.

"It's fine," Cillian chuckled when Gab gave him an apologetic look.

She pulled the phone away and directed it at Cillian, who seriously looked like he was doing more than sleeping with his messy hair and sleepy eyes.

"Finally, better than seeing your tits, Gabbie. Hi, hi, I'm Lucia." The dark-skinned girl with wild black hair waved excitedly through the phone.

"Hello, Lucia. I'm Cillian." He waved back.

"Goodness! I know! Oh my goodness! Gabbie! Scandalous!!" Lucia laughed, "Holy crap. Oh." She spoke in Spanish, and for a few minutes, they stared at the ceiling.

Gabrijela was blushing like mad, "God she's mad. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, it's seriously okay," he got up and stretched. She couldn't help look at his butt.

It was cute.

"Hey, where'd he go? I got some questions! Why are you in bed with each other huh? Gab I need answers." Lucia came back into the frame, her brows high up and questioning look in her dark eyes.

"Nothing happened, my god. So fucking horny." She muttered so Cillian couldn't hear.

He went into the bathroom, the door shut a little.

"You two seemed to have had a rumble of some sort." Lucia chided as Gabrijela popped on her Airpods.

"Nooo, no fair!" Lucia whined.

"Nope. Not allowed." Gabrijela laid on her side, legs pulled up a little.

"Please tell me why then? If you didn't do anything then why? How'd you meet? Have you started the internship yet?" Lucia laid out the questions.

"He picked me up at the airport, yesterday we spend the afternoon together and went for dinner and then... I guess he stayed the night because it was awfully late." Gabrijela wasn't going to tell Lucia what happened in the pub. She didn't want to stress her bestie out anymore.

"Oh, yes. It was late." Lucia annunciated with a wink and air quotes with her fingers.

"It was! I offered him to stay." She whispered it was more like an angry hiss. "Honestly, you're such a pain in the ass." She groaned.

"But a fantastic pain in the ass! You love me!" She beamed.

"Yeah, that's true." She laughed softly before Lucia delved into a different subject, about some guy she managed to nail the night before at some house party she went to.

Cillian came back out of the bathroom and had a view of Gabrijela's ass. She hadn't noticed he stared at her, this... sudden need for her weaved through him and he quickly turned to go to the kitchen.

What the fuck, he thought as he made coffee for the both of them, what was wrong with him? She was so out of his league and he shouldn't even come out of the bathroom until she moved.

But it seemed it would have been a while when thirty minutes later she hung up and got up from the bed.

"God, she can talk." She huffed as she came to the kitchen, and he handed her the mug of coffee. He made it his way so he hoped she liked it.

"She seems quite uh, outgoing." He said, sipping his coffee.

"Yeah. She is. But I think she was very hyper because she saw you. She's a massive fan." She leaned against the door frame of the kitchen.

"So, she's your best friend?" He continued.

"Yeah. She's twenty-three but thanks to our parents who know each other, we literally grew up together. She's like my little sister, but more... wild. She hates having foundations and loves being taken on the wind, so she says."

"That's sweet. I guess that life suits some people." He stated with a slight shrug.

"Yeah. My other three friends have a partner, three marriages next year." She laughed softly. I'm a bridesmaid for one."

"Oh? You said three are getting married. Busy year." He blinked with surprise.

"Oh yeah, very. Three different outfits. One is getting married in February, so it'll be summer. The one in July, and the other September." She shook her head.

"Damn. One in each season almost. Gifts too?" He finished his coffee.

"Yep. They did this deliberately, in the same year. Two will be at the same function rooms, the other is more country-styled as she lives in the countryside. If I was also getting married, I think I would've been sucked into doing it in the same year too." She shuddered, "I wouldn't want that. I'll have my own year."

"Yeah. I'd agree on that. Would be too much." Cillian nodded.

"Oh well, at least I can find an outfit here for the weddings. Get something... Different. Or well, depends if I have enough money on the end after my shopping spree." She set her empty cup into the sink and washed up.

"So, should I make breakfast or...?" Gabrijela asked.

"I thought we should go out for breakfast. There's a nice pub down the road but I can assure you there won't be any--"

"It's fine. I'm sure it'll be amazing." She turned to him, giving him a reassuring smile.

He closed his mouth and smiled, "Alright. I'll get myself dressed, I guess it'll be the same thing as yesterday." He hummed and went to fetch his clothing.

Gabrijela grabbed some black jeans, a short-sleeved cream sweatshirt, on top a checkered black and white shirt and then an oversized denim jacket on top of it all.

She pulled on her Doc Martins and a small crossbody bag enough for her wallet, phone and her passport.

"Ready." She smiled and the pair headed out.

The pub had an okay crowd, still had the creepy old man vibe but maybe she was still shaken up from last night.

Cillian kept close to her side, his hand brushing along hers to remind her he was there. They took a table outside instead of inside.

She picked up the menu and looked through it, "I'll have the big breakfast." She said.

"Okay, what about a drink?" He asked, already knowing what he wants.

"Mocha, please. Skim milk." She replied as she set the menu down.

He nodded and got up to order inside. He came back after a moment before his phone rang up.

He picked up, "Hey Sile." He said, his Irish accent spiked at the name.

She remembered he had two younger sisters, this must be one of them.

"Yeah... Yeah thank you, I'd love that..." He laughed, "Oh, god okay. Tell mum and dad I said hi and I love them... Thank you, gonna be a long couple of months ahead. See you, Sil." He said and hung up.

"Who was that?" Gabrijela asked, even if she had an idea who.

"My sister. Wishing me all the best for the upcoming months said she might come down with Orla, my other sister, and visit me." He said with a happy smile, he seemed to light up when he spoke about his family.

"Awh! How cute! Maybe I should say hi," Gab gave him a cheeky smile. Their drinks were set in front of them.

"Of course you can. They would love to meet you." Cillian agreed with her despite she was only kidding.

"Oh-Oh yeah okay." She took her cup and took a drink of it. Perfect balance.

As they continued to chat about this and that, some girls came up to the table.

The brunette had a heavy accent, "Mr Murphy? Hi, I-I'm a big fan of you a-and I was w-wondering if you c-could sign this f-for me?" She held out a photograph of him as Thomas Shelby.

Behind, her mother it seemed, was giving her an encouraging smiled as the other two girls seemed to do the same, holding out their own things for him to sign.

Cillian seemed suddenly nervous and gave a look at Gabrijela, "Go ahead." Gab said, nodding a little.

He smiled and signed the items, answering the fans questions but had politely declined a photograph with them. He gave them all hugs and they seemed to bloom with utter joy as they all giggled and hurried along with the older woman.

"You wouldn't believe it but I get fans following me sometimes." He said as he turned back to Gabrijela.

"Oh?" She snickered as their food came.

"Yeah. I'm not too fond of it though. But it's not too much of a nuisance, not in London anyway. Where we film there's a lot of fans that hang around, hoping to catch a glimpse or for me to sign something." He said, smacking his lips in a 'tsk' sound.

"But no photos?" She tilted her head to the side as she cut up her sausages.

"No. I'd rather give a hug or sign, better for them to remember the moment." He explained.

"True, but I'd always love a photo. I'd cherish that just as much as a moment, but that's just me." She said eating her food.

"How about now? The past two days with me?" He looked up and paused from taking a bite out of his toast.

She smiled as she gazed down at her food, "Cillian, this... experience, I'll remember it even after I've died. Besides, I got a photo with you." She winked at him.

"Oh, that's true, true." He laughed sipping his coffee. "I'm glad I can make this experience amazing. It truly makes me thrilled."

They moved on to a topic they both loved, music. It became heated, and people turned to see what they were on about. But they were in their moment, and even after they left the pub.

They headed to a local park nearby, they had managed to calm down and come to an agreement finally.

There was a little private area and they went there, beneath a large tree that had overhanging branches. There was barely anyone around but it was still nice.

She crossed her leg over, hands folded in her lap. They sat there, in silence, totally in content with each others presence and the area around them.

Peace.

"I'll be leaving in three hours," Cillian said after some time.

"Mood killer," She whined, looking at him with a scowl.

"Sorry, wanted to remind you." He had an arm behind her, and she had moved closer to his side.

"I'm gonna miss you." She said softly, she leaned her head back on his arm.

"We'll see each other basically every day!" He chuckled softly.

"I know, but we won't hang out as much, like now." She reached up and picked some lint off his shirt.

He watched the movement, "Who said we won't hang out? We'll get the time. We can make time." He took her hand, holding it to his chest.

The whole thing was weird, it felt... intimate. His arm around her, their heads close, his eyes on her.

This closeness with Cillian was different than anything she had experienced. With her ex, whom she broke up a year ago, was a different type of closeness. It was more sex-driven and lust, unlike with Cillian, they connected with their similar likes and dislikes, and he never seemed to judge her.

He looked at her as if she was more than a sex object, he watched her with pure interest and intrigue.

But maybe she was looking too much into it, they had known each other well over forty-eight hours, and she was to be here till January. Who knows, maybe he was only putting on a show since he was a very reserved man.

She didn't know how he was truly when he wasn't in his acting spotlight, maybe he wasn't nice, maybe-

She was overthinking now to an extreme and suddenly sat up.

"What is it?" Cillian asked, sitting forward with her, a hand on her back.

"Nothing, just thinking." She said as she slowly sat back, she moved closer to his side and laid her head on his shoulder.

His arm was around her once again and he squeezed her gently to him, "About?" He held her hand in his lap again, his thumb running over her knuckles.

"Ah, nothing. Something silly." She replied, her emotions were on a wild roller coaster ride.

"You know, you can talk to me? I know we have only known each other for a bit, but, I am here for a good chat. As long as you want." He brushed a hair away from her cheek, and she looked up once more.

A devilish thought came to her and she had the urge to satisfy it. But she may as well bring down this growing relationship into the gutter if she did so.

And he may not want to talk to her at all, only during her times when she was on set.

"Yeah. I know. Thank you for the offer." She smiled, it made crinkles at the corners of her eyes.

He let out a soft gasp, "Smile again like that." He suddenly said.

"What?" She laughed a little.

"Smile." He said and began to tickle her.

"Cillian!" She cried out and laughed, trying to fight him off. "What is wrong with you!" She said in between laughter.

She managed to escape, "Bad!" She backed up when he stood, giving her a cheeky smirk.

And then she ran. He chased after her, around the little park they went.

She laughed and he did too, they were having the time of their life. No one bothered them.

She had lost him around a tree and was looking behind her, but didn't see him ahead. Neither did he.

She ran right into him and their heads clashed. Together they tumbled back onto the grass with a gasp then a grunt from Cillian.

She was on top of him rubbing her forehead, "Owie." She complained.

"I hope I don't get a bruise now." He said, wincing a little.

"What about my face, I can't get a giant lump on mine." She pushed herself up a little, both arms on either side of his head. Her hair was a veil around them.

"Be more concerned about mine!" He squeezed her sides and she yelped, jumping at the touch.

"You'll be fine!" She argued back. She watched his eyes widen a little, and he scoffed.

She smirked, and she wasn't going to lie to herself, she did like this. She moved and he let out a soft grunt, she was now straddling his waist.

"Should we get up?" He asked, slowly sitting upright. His arms moved around her waist, her hands slid up his arms to rest on his shoulders.

"I don't know, do you want to get up?" She asked, her breath hitched when she felt his fingers tips come into contact with her bare skin.

"I'm asking you." His tone was a gentle caress for her ears.

She gulped, holding his gaze once more, and that devilish thought returned and she found herself succumbing to it as she leaned in.

Cillian felt his heart pound faster as he watched Gabrijela lean in, his mind was telling to be the better man and to pull away, but he honestly didn't know if that was the right choice. Move away and create this awkwardness between them or let it happen.

But he didn't need to do anything when she was the one who jumped back.

"Fuck, I-I don't-" She scrambled off him, still positioned between his legs.

"It's okay. Hey." He moved to a kneeling position and took her hand. "It's alright. Don't fret."

She looked up at him, her brows furrowed a little, "God I don't know what I was doing. I didn't mean to. It's too early, fuck, what is wrong with me?" She laughed nervously as she stood up.

He stood up as well, "Nothing is wrong with you. Heat of the moment." He stroked her knuckle with a thumb.

The touch eased her, but the 'heat' of the moment made her tingly all over. Everywhere.

"Yeah. Heat of the moment. I'm still sorry though. I shouldn't have done that." She shakes her head, pulling her hand back. His touch was making her feel all sort of things.

He sighed, "Come on, let's head on home." He said to her and she followed him reluctantly.

The silence was weird and awkward. She stood before the door of her apartment and faced him, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" She said.

"Yeah, we will. It'll be a big day, so get some early shut-eye, eh?" He asked.

His expression was soft, caring. No hint of judgement. It made her almost want to kiss him.

"Okay. I will. I gotta prepare my stuff for tomorrow anyway, got a report to do." She hummed.

"Alright." He kinda just stood there, expecting something else.

She stepped down a step and wrapped her arms around his neck. She held on to him and his arms wrapped around her swiftly.

"Thank you for the last three days. I can't wait to work with you further," She murmured and pulled back enough to admire his finely chiselled face.

"Yeah, neither can I. And the rest of the crew, of course." He squeezed her sides again.

Heat bloomed within her, "See you tomorrow, Cillian. Drive safe." She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He pulled her close so their bodies were flushed. She could feel every hard part of him, the strength of his body.

She let out a soft moan and blushed as they pulled back, "You be safe too. Ring me if anything happens alright? Even if you need a chat. It'll be a long train ride." He said, cupping her cheek with a hand.

She could see the nerves behind those lovely big eyes, the moment had rattled him. And she wasn't sure if it was good or bad.

She nodded and stepped back, "Bye." She smiled and went to the door, punching in her pin and pushed open the door. She looked at him once more before she turned away and closed the door behind her.

When she came to her apartment and peeked out the balcony, he wasn't there. His car was gone.

She sighed and went back inside, the last hour was wild and she never felt so damn hungry for more.

More of him.

Her heart ached, her body ached in places where she wasn't satisfied in a long while.

God, she thought, she was here on an internship. To fucking learn. Not to fuck the materials.

She shook her head and cursed herself when she thought about the scenes of him in the show. The intimate ones.

Another moan escaped her. "Fucking horny piece of shit," She muttered to herself and fished out what would ease her body.

Later that night...

She had received a call from Allison. The news was, she was going to be picked up around five in the morning.

She chatted with the woman about what to expect, how long she was going to be on set or if there was anything else she was supposed to do.

Gabrijela learned that she was going to work with, bing bing! Cillian most of the time, and the other men who were to be the Shelby men.

Great, she thought, she would have to deal with the man who was wedging himself into her heart and soul.

But, she had to put it aside. This was for her studies, and she needed to focus. And to shower. And eat. And then sleep.

But she was also excited that she wasn't just going to work on the set, she was going to help Allison design some clothing for some play that was set to practice early next year.

More to learn, the hungrier she got.

She did as Cillian told, eat, shower, talked to her dad for a bit before she hit the hay.

Though, her dreams were muddled with Cillian, his gaze, his touches, his soft lips that brought about gooseflesh all over her.

And the wicked sounds he pulled from her.

#cillian murphy #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #fanfiction

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