#i’ve been using her account for like a year and i think she didn’t notice until now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedroscurls · 2 months ago

Text

training partners

summary: you hire a new personal trainer to get you back on track, but you don't realize that she's also hugh jackman's trainer until you show up to the gym. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), reader has some description (hair, outfit), sexual tension (lingering gazes, teasing / complimentary banter, soft touches - come on, hugh jackman will be spotting you), no use of y/n. word count: 5.7k a/n: ok, so this is my first real person fanfic in a very long time. i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman and this is purely fictional (all in my delulu mind). next part.

That night, your trainer sent you a text to let you know that your next session tomorrow morning with her would include another person. You didn’t mind, though, you had been training with her for over three months now and she had gotten you back on track. Not only with your physical health, but you were back on track to loving yourself and putting yourself first.

Your boyfriend of three years had broken up with you before you hired your personal trainer. Throughout that relationship, you had let yourself go. You prioritized him in ways that you never planned to and the feelings were never reciprocated. You always put more into the relationship than he did. You were heartbroken though and still recovering from losing him, but you had come to realize that him breaking up with you was a blessing in disguise. You weren’t happy. You knew that you had fallen out of love with him, but you just couldn’t bring yourself up to be the one to end the relationship.

And now, meeting your personal trainer three times a week has been something you looked forward to. She always pushed you past your limits, very well aware of your potential, and she always made sure to hold you accountable – with your workouts, with your diet, but most importantly, with your self-talk. She had truly become someone you can rely on and as the months passed, she became a close friend.

You read the text she sends you: Hey, I hope you don’t mind, but someone is gonna join us tomorrow. I’ve been training him for years and we’ve had trouble finding a good day and time for him to train with me. It’s possible that this will become more permanent since he’s so busy. I hope that’s okay!

After all that she’s helped you through, you knew you couldn’t complain. Besides, you wouldn’t mind her attention being elsewhere. You knew she would still be there to help you. So, you send a reply: That’s fine with me! It’ll give me a bit of a break if your attention is on him, instead of me.

She replies quickly: You’re not gonna be slacking off, if that’s what you’re getting at.

You laugh to yourself and then send her a wink emoji followed by another message: Of course not! I’ll see you tomorrow.

—

The following morning, you pull up to the gym and climb out of your car. There are two other cars in the parking lot – you know one belongs to your trainer, but the other, you aren’t sure whose it is. Climbing out, you grab your duffle bag and water bottle before making your way inside. You’ve always dressed in an oversized hoodie and spandex shorts when going to the gym and today is no different. You’re wearing a faded black oversized hoodie with black spandex shorts and gym shoes with white socks. Your hair is in a single dutch braid, but is covered when you put the hood over your head and your headphones draped around your neck.

Once inside the gym, you notice your trainer setting up but you look around and don’t notice anyone else there. Huh, you think to yourself. Maybe it’ll just be me after all.

You walk over to her and greet her with a hug, setting your duffle bag and water bottle in the corner. “I thought you said there’d be someone else today and it looks like there’s another car outside, but I just see you.”

“Oh, he’s in the bathroom.” she chuckles and then points in the direction of the mats to signal for you to start stretching. “Go ahead and stretch. We’re gonna be doing a full body workout and we’ll start with a cardio warmup.”

“Yes, coach,” you salute, causing you both to let out a laugh.

You begin stretching, putting on your headphones over the hood and letting the music play in your ears. Surprisingly enough, you’re playing the soundtrack from The Greatest Showman and it pumps you up, gets you ready for what you expect to be a grueling workout. You’re on all fours, doing the cat-and-cow stretch for several seconds before you see a pair of feet in your peripheral.

You turn your head completely and look up at the man who decides to begin stretching next to you, flashing you a smile that immediately makes your stomach do flips. He’s wearing a black tank top with black shorts and he’s saying something, but you can’t hear him. You can’t even speak, but then he points to your headphones and you blush instantly. Of course you couldn’t hear him, you’re blaring From Now On and you’re sure that he can hear it from his end with how loud your music is. You remove your headphones, letting it rest around your neck and pausing the song.

“You know, listening to music that loud can hurt your eardrums, I hear.” He speaks and you melt instantly, his Australian accent thick.

“Gets me ready for a workout.”

“What does? The song or how loud you’re listening to it?” He winks.

“So, you heard what song was playing.”

“I did. What can I say?” He smiles. “It’s a good song.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “You’re literally Hugh Jackman and I’m trying not to freak out over here, but I don’t think I’m doing a great job.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle and then reaches out a hand for you to take. You realize that you’re still on all fours, staring at the man who you’ve had a crush on since he became the Wolverine. Quickly, you move to sit properly, not really wanting to introduce yourself in a position that can be taken as very inappropriate.

“Well, I’m Hugh,” he winks, his Australian accent coming through thickly.

You reach for his hand and gently shake it, looking down at it. His hand is so much larger compared to yours. You introduce yourself and tell him your name before dropping his hand, biting your lower lip as you look around to see your trainer look through her notebook.

“Nice to meet you,” you finally say. “I’m sorry if I’m crashing your session.”

“I think I should be the one that’s sorry,” he says. “This is only the day and time that works for me right now and she’s the best of the best,” Hugh continues, pointing in the direction of our personal trainer. “She’s helping me get back into shape for the Wolverine.”

“Oh, so you are coming back?”

Hugh chuckles and lowers his eyes to the mat before he looks back at you. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that, but yeah. I’m comin’ back.”

“Well good,” you reply, standing up after you’ve finished stretching. You look down at him and let your eyes rake in his body. It’s one thing to see him in pictures, but it’s another to see him in person, this close. “I always did like the Wolverine. One of my favorites, actually.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, his eyes lowering to your exposed legs and back up to your eyes.

You can feel the tension thicken in the air between you as you both stare at each other. Your eyes can’t help but rake over his arms, the veins along his biceps, his chest flexing with each movement. You clear your throat and nod, biting your lower lip. “Definitely. Guess I got a thing for older men.” You don’t give him a chance to respond before you walk away and leave him to continue his stretching, but you do feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

You approach your trainer and look at her with wide eyes. “Um, you should have told me you’re Hugh Jackman’s trainer!”

She laughs and looks over your shoulder at him who’s still staring at you. “If I did, would you have come?”

“No, probably not. I’d be too scared. I won’t be able to keep up with him. I mean, have you seen him? He’s jacked!”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “You can keep up with him,” she reassures. “Trust me.”

“Well, what if I can’t? I’m gonna make a complete fool out of myself and–”

“Stop.” She interrupts and points at you. “You’re spiraling and you don’t need to. You’re not here to compete with him. You’re both here to work out and who knows, maybe having him here will push you extra hard.”

“You already push me extra hard,” you say. “I leave completely drenched after every workout I have with you.”

“You don’t have to impress anyone. He’s here to workout. You’re here to workout. Remember why you started,” she replies. “And remember how far you’ve come.”

“You��re right,” you nod. “You’re right. He’s just so…” you sigh dreamily and then look over your shoulder to see him stand up and begin making his way over to you both. “Hot.”

She laughs, “Well, I hear he’s single.”

“Oh my god, he would never go for me! I mean, he’s completely famous and I’m just… Me.”

“There’s that negative self-talk again,” she tsks. “I’m gonna have to put you through a really tough ass workout to make you think of yourself differently.”

“Okay, okay,” you tease. “I’m amazing. I’m perfect. I’m–”

“Beautiful,” Hugh interrupts and winks in your direction. “Sorry, should I have not chimed in there?”

Your cheeks begin to heat up and the pit of your stomach feels like butterflies are swarming in there. He’s staring at you with a grin on his face and it makes you look away shyly.

“Okay, lovebirds. Can we get this workout started?” Your trainer interrupts, laughing quietly.

“Um, yeah. Let’s, um, yeah, let’s workout.” You walk over to the stairmaster and climb on it before you see Hugh do the same next to you. You look over your shoulder to see your trainer walk towards the speakers to play the music to get you both ready, but she knows that you like to listen to your own music when warming up.

This gives Hugh enough time to gently lean over and tap you on the shoulder to get your attention. You look up at him with big, hopeful eyes and he’s staring back directly into yours.

“I’m sorry if I crossed a line there,” he says genuinely. “I just–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, smiling up at him. “If we’re giving each other compliments, then I think you’re hot.”

Hugh looks down and lets out a quiet chuckle. “Even for an old man?”

“Oh, you’d be hot if you were my age too. But I like that you’re older. Gives you bit of an edge.”

“An edge, huh?”

“Well, I have always had a crush on you, so…”

Hugh smirks and he’s about to say something before your trainer speaks up to begin your warmup for fifteen minutes. You then nod in his direction before putting the headphones back on and starting the machine. You’ve always put your all into each workout and you have to tell yourself that you shouldn’t act any differently because the Hugh Jackman is working out with you. You had been so nervous and anxious to be working out alongside Hugh that you didn’t realize just how far you had come, just like your trainer mentioned earlier. For years, you had put someone else before you, put their needs before your own, and for once since then, you feel like you have control over your life again.

And for once, you knew what you wanted and you were going to go after it.

—

Fifteen minutes later, you and Hugh both stop the machine and climb off of it. You remove your headphones and take off your hood, already drenched in sweat. You look in Hugh’s direction and notice the sweat slicking off his frame as well, his tank top stained with sweat. You clear your throat and walk over to your duffle bag, setting your headphones inside and grabbing your small towel to wipe the sweat from your brows and temples. You know you’re going to end up removing your hoodie soon, but you feel a bit self-conscious and wish you should have worn a t-shirt because once you remove your hoodie, you’ll be dressed in just a sports bra and spandex.

You then realize that Hugh’s bag is right next to yours and see him grab his own bottle of water and towel to cool himself down before the start of your workout.

“Aren’t you hot in that hoodie?” Hugh asks.

“I like to get a good sweat in,” you blurt out. You clear your throat, not believing that you just said that. “I mean, I just–”

Hugh smiles. “No, no. I understand. It’s like your own personal sauna.”

“Sure, kinda.” You gnaw at your lower lip before you stand upright, holding onto your bottle of water. “I mean, eventually, this is gonna come off because she makes me work,” you laugh, referring to your personal trainer. “But I like to keep my body and muscles warm.”

“Ah, so I will get to see what you got hiding underneath there,” he grins. “I mean, your legs look great. I’m eager to see what else you got.”

Your cheeks heat up once more. “Oh, I wouldn’t be too excited. I don’t have arms like yours.”

Hugh chuckles and looks down at his own arms, flexing them in front of you and you feel the heat rush immediately between your legs. God, he’s just so muscular and chiseled and–

“I’d be impressed if you did,” Hugh winks. “Now come on. If we keep her waiting, she’s just gonna make us pay for it,” he continues, pointing to your trainer before he reaches down to take your hand.

“Ah yeah, that’s a good point. Thanks,” you say, taking his hand as he hoists you up to your feet. You stumble a bit and fall into him, your hands immediately reaching out to brace yourself on his chest. You clear your throat, feeling the hardened muscles underneath your fingertips. His hands fly to your waist to keep you steady and you’re extremely aware of how close you two are.

“Oh, be careful,” he whispers quietly, looking down at you. “Would hate for you to get injured.”

“Good thing I’ve got a big, strong man to brace my fall.”

Hugh chuckles and then releases his hold on you, making you do the same as you both take a step back to create some distance between the both of you. “You’re good for my ego. I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna have to get your number later so that I can be around you all the time.”

“Are you asking me for my number? The Hugh Jackman?”

Hugh laughs. “Would that be alright?”

“I guess we’ll see after today’s training session.” You smile in his direction, feeling more and more confident as the minutes pass. You walk away from him and make your way to your trainer who has two sets of dumbbells next to each other. One set is obviously heavier than the other and you know it’s for Hugh.

“We’re gonna start off with some bicep curls, supersetting it with bent over rows.” Your trainer begins, continuing to list off the rest of what the workout will consist of. You know that you’ve gotten stronger than when you first started and you try not to focus so much on the man next to you and focus solely on improving than the last time you had trained.

“After this superset, we’re gonna then move onto a barbell bench press and we’ll also superset it with push-ups.”

Your trainer continues to speak and you look in the mirror to find that Hugh’s staring at you too. You smile to yourself and then turn your attention to your trainer. She mentions that you will also both be doing squats with a superset of pull-ups. Once she finishes, you watch her make her way to the speaker to turn it up louder.

Throughout the first exercise, you remain focused on your form, inhaling and exhaling when needed. You feel the burn in your biceps when curling the dumbbells and the burn in your back muscles when doing the bent over rows. You’re dripping in sweat and by the time the first superset is finished, you finally lift the ends of your hoodie over your head. You walk over to your things to drop the hoodie into your duffle bag, grabbing your towel to once again wipe away the sweat.

Now dressed only in black spandex shorts and a black sports bra, you look up to see Hugh’s eyes taking in your newly exposed frame. He tries to be subtle with where he’s looking, but when your eyes meet his, a shy smile lines his lips. He mouths sorry and then turns away to walk over to the bench where your trainer is setting up.

“Alright, who wants to go first?” Your trainer asks.

You speak up instantly. “I’ll go first.”

Your trainer smiles. She always loved your eagerness. “Perfect. We’ll warm up with the bar, both of you.” She points to the bench and you nod, brushing past Hugh to lie back on the bench. You arch your back on the bench and reach up to grip onto the barbell above you.

“This should be easy for you,” your trainer says. “Aim for 15, but slow and controlled.”

You nod and unrack the bar before dropping it low to your chest before pressing it back up above you. You focus on your breathing and form as you continue the movements for 15 reps. Once you’re done, you re-rack the barbell and then sit up, looking up at Hugh who’s staring down at you with an impressed look on his face.

“Same thing for you, Hugh.”

Hugh makes the barbell look like it weighs close to nothing, yet he still controls his movements. You can’t help but watch his muscles flex as he presses the bar for the required amount of reps. It does something to you, seeing him like this, focused and completely in his element. You bite your lower lip and then see him stand up from the bench. He walks away for a moment to retrieve his towel and bottle of water, which gives you enough time to add weight to each side of the barbell.

This continues for four sets until the last set, your trainer adds 15 pounds to each side, totaling 75 pounds for you to press. You look over at her with wide eyes. “You think I’m able to do 75 pounds?” you ask genuinely.

“Oh yeah, it’s gonna be easy for you.”

“But what if–”

She interrupts. “Self-talk,” she says simply. “You can do it. Aim for 3 reps. That’s all.”

Then, Hugh gently nudges you with his shoulder. “You can do it,” he comments, adding your name at the end of his sentence. “And if you want, I can spot you.”

The trainer nods, “That’d be great, Hugh.” Hugh then moves to stand at the top of your head and watches you lie back on the bench. You look up, biting your lower lip at how close his lower half is to you and while you should be focused on bench pressing your personal best, you can’t help but your mind drifting to him.

“You ready, love?” Hugh asks, the term of endearment slipping past his lips.

You nod and then place your hands on the bar to unrack before you let it drop slowly to tap your chest before you push it above you with difficulty. It’s heavier than you’ve ever bench pressed before, but having Hugh hover nearby gives you the confidence and strength to do this.

“Great job, that’s one.” Your trainer says and then you continue for the next two reps without any issue. “Go for five,” she adds.

At the last rep, you struggle, but Hugh’s there to help you push the bar above your chest and then re-rack it. You sit up and grin, sweat dripping from your temples as you stand up.

“I did it. Oh my god, I did it.” You say with a grin, practically jumping up and down with pride and you quickly move over to hug Hugh, not realizing what you’re doing. Once you do though, you pull back immediately and the heat in your cheeks begin to rise. “Sorry. I just got excited and–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hugh smiles, his hand moving to rest on your lower back. “You did great. It’s somethin’ to be proud of.”

“Alright, Hugh. You’re up.” Your trainer says with a smile and his hand slowly drops from your back to then add more weight to the bar.

You move to the mats to do push-ups, but you can’t help but be distracted by Hugh. There is at least one 45 pound plate on each side of the bar and he’s pressing it so easily. His muscles are flexing and you can hear him grunting and it makes you squeeze your legs, clenching around nothing. It’s when he stands up from the bench that he makes eye contact with you and flashes you a wink.

Oh god, you think to yourself. He definitely knows what you were just doing.

Throughout the rest of the workout, you and Hugh train without issue. You find that you train really well together, pushing each other to the limit, but also very considerate once you’ve each hit that limit. When it came time to squats though, you find that Hugh’s eyes are glued onto you with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes take in your frame, lingering on your legs and definitely your backside. You pride yourself in the strength you have with squats, being able to add a 45 and a 25 lb plate to each side, totaling 185.

“Oh, you can do way more than 185,” Hugh says with a chuckle. “That’s way too easy for you.”

“That’s exactly what I said last week,” your trainer laughs. “I think you can at least add another ten pounds each side.”

“That’d be 205 total,” you say hesitantly. “I don’t know…”

“Come on. Let’s add ten each side.” Hugh says, grabbing two ten pound plates and handing one to your trainer. He slides one on one side of the bar while your trainer does the other side. He motions for you to get in position and then steps behind you. “I got you. I’ll spot you again.”

“But–”

“Self-talk,” your trainer calls out.

“Fine.” You get underneath the barbell and place it between your shoulder blades as your hands come up to grip the bar. You take a deep breath, looking in front of you in the mirror and seeing Hugh nod reassuringly. “If I’m not able to squat this–”

“You got this,” Hugh interrupts. “It’s all in the mind, love. You gotta believe you can do it.”

Love. The term of endearment actually motivates you and you take a deep breath before unracking the bar and taking three steps backwards. The bar rests heavily between your shoulders as you squeeze your shoulder blades tight and then you take a deep breath and slowly lower yourself to a squat. Hugh squats with you, arms stretched outwards underneath your own and then stands up once you do. He sees you struggle a bit, but then he watches as you push through your heels until you stand back upright.

“See, easy,” he whispers into your ear.

“You’re distracting me,” you call over your shoulder.

Hugh chuckles and then lets you continue your set of reps. He’s in awe of you. There’s not a lot of people that can keep up with him or his trainer, but he finds your dedication and eagerness to push yourself incredibly attractive. He finds you incredibly attractive. He isn’t paying attention until you re-reack the bar and accidentally bump into him, your backside fully pressed against his front.

Your trainer wasn’t in the room at the moment, having had to leave to go to the bathroom, so luckily, she wasn’t here to witness the tension that begins to thicken in the air again. Hugh’s hand darts out to rest on your hip, realizing that you were not stepping away from him.

“You’re impressive,” Hugh whispers, hand tightening on your hip. He feels you push back against him and he growls lowly into your ear. “You keep that up, love and–”

“Hugh,” you whisper, slowly turning around to look up at him. Your hands move to his chest, feeling him flex underneath your fingertips. His other hand comes up to rest on your other hip, pulling you flush against him as the front of your bodies press against one another. “We’re all sweaty,” you point out.

“Doesn’t bother me.”

“I think I like having you as my training partner,” you say quietly.

“Training partner, huh? I like the sound of that.”

“So, about my number…” you begin, biting your lower lip.

“Yeah?”

You really want it?”

Hugh nods. “Yeah, I really want it.”

You can’t help but notice the true meaning behind both of your words and you’re about to lean in when you hear the sound of a door opening. Quickly, you pull back from Hugh and look up at him. He’s smiling in your direction and then moves away to remove the weight off the bar.

“Let’s finish this session and then we can talk.”

—

After two hours, you and Hugh finally finish the training session with your trainer. You’re lying on your back on the mats, trying to cool down and catch your breath before your trainer gently nudges your foot. You sit up and then stand on your feet.

“Are you okay with Hugh joining us more regularly? You two are good partners.” she says, arms crossed over her chest.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me. That was a really good workout,” you point out.

“Good workout because he was here or because–”

“Because of you!” you interrupt with a chuckle. “And it helps that he’s here too.”

She laughs. “You did really well today. I know you got in your head a few times there, but you showed up for yourself. How do you feel?”

You shrug. “I’m a work in progress, but today was a good day. I’d consider it a win.”

“Good,” she replies. “I’m proud of you. It’s not easy, but you’re putting yourself first and that’s a huge improvement from when we first met.”

“I’m trying,” you say. “Taking it day by day, but I’m feeling good about myself. I feel like I finally have control again.”

“Well, you deserve all the good things in this world. You just gotta believe that too. I’ll see you next week.” Your trainer walks away to start cleaning up and she waves at Hugh who’s walking towards you now.

He leans down to grab his bag and drapes it over his shoulder as he looks down at you. “So, I think we’re training partners now.”

“I heard,” you smile. “Will that be okay? I know you have extreme training to do to become Wolverine again, but–”

“Of course it will be okay. Seeing you push yourself out of your comfort zone helps push me out of mine. This will be a good thing. Trust me.”

“Oh, I’ve done a lot of trusting you today,” you tease, grabbing your bag and slinging it across your body. You both wave at your personal trainer before leaving the gym and walking outside to your cars.

“And I haven’t failed yet, have I?” he asks, walking alongside you to your car.

“No. No, you haven’t.”

“Good,” Hugh smiles. “I don’t plan to.” He watches you place your duffle bag into your trunk and then before he could speak, you reach your hand out, palm facing upwards. “What?”

“Phone please, sir.”

Hugh’s eyes narrow down at you. Sir. He wants to push you against your car and just devour you, but he has to refrain himself. He reaches for his phone and then hands it to you, watching as you type away. Once you return it back to him, he looks down at his phone and lets out a soft chuckle. He sees your number, but then he notices the name that you entered.

Training partner 💪

“Oh, very clever,” he smiles.

“Maybe if I get as muscular as you, we’ll upgrade that to swole-mate.”

Hugh laughs, his nose wrinkling as the sound of his laughter comes deep from within. It makes you smile that you’re able to make him laugh. You had put him on a pedestal for being a famous actor, but after spending just a few hours with him today, he’s so much more normal than you thought.

“Swole-mate, huh?” Hugh says after his laughter slowly dies down. “Is that a play on word for soulmate?”

“Maybe,” you chuckle. “It’s dorky, I know. I was just kidding.”

“No, I like it. You don’t have to be muscular to be my swole-mate. So, I’m just gonna go ahead and change that.” He then types away on his phone and then turns it in your direction.

You smile to yourself and see the new name that’s now attached to your number.

Swole-mate 💪

“Perfect,” you say with a smile.

“I think so.” Hugh responds, staring deeply into your eyes. “So, I guess I’ll see you next week.”

“Yes, you will. Thank you for spotting me today… And pushing me.”

“Happy to do it.” Hugh winks. “Get home safe.”

“You too, Hugh.”

—

Later that night, you stare at your phone and realize that while you had given your number to Hugh, he hadn’t given you his. You try to reflect on today’s events, but your mind keeps drifting to Hugh. There was certainly something there between the both of you, something unspoken. You convince yourself that the attraction is mutual – after all, you couldn’t help but think back to that moment at the squat rack. You felt every inch of him when you pressed back into him and his hands on your hips–

You sigh, trying to shake the thoughts out of your mind. There was no way that someone like Hugh Jackman would be interested in someone like you. He’s famous and he could have any woman he wanted and you… Well, you were just normal.

Your mind continues to drift, but you feel your phone vibrate. It takes you out of your thoughts and you look down to see an unsaved number. Opening the message, a smile begins to line your lips and your heart begins to flutter with emotions you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

UNKNOWN: Hello, swole-mate.

You don’t even need to ask who it is because before you can even respond, another message pops up.

UNKNOWN: It’s Hugh, by the way.

You lie back on your bed, phone in your hand as you stare up at it with a goofy grin on your face. It feels like you’re a teenager all over again talking to your crush. You then add his number to your contacts list and add the same name that he has on his.

YOU: Hello, Hugh.

Then, after a few seconds, your phone begins to ring. You answer it without hesitation and hear his voice on the other end of the line. It sounds so much deeper and his accent is thicker as he begins to talk.

“I had to make sure you gave me your actual number,” Hugh chuckles.

“Why would I give you a fake number? When Hugh Jackman asks for your number, you gotta give the right one.”

He laughs. “You know, I’m a normal person too.”

You smile to yourself. “You’re the Wolverine, Hugh. I think saying you’re normal isn’t doing you justice.”

“What would you call me then?” He asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Hot, maybe?” Hugh teases.

“Okay, okay. That got to your head, didn’t it?”

You can hear Hugh laugh all day if you could. It’s so infectious and it makes you giggle too. “Maybe. Just surprised that someone like you thinks an old man like me is hot.”

“Here we go with the old man thing again,” you giggle. “Have you seen yourself, Hugh? You don’t strike me as old.”

“Oh, well my bones and joints will disagree with you, love.”

Love. There it is again and your stomach feels like it’s doing flips.

“You know, you are very distracting, Hugh.”

“Yeah? Am I distracting you right now?”

“Maybe…”

Hugh chuckles and then responds, “You’re very distracting too.”

“And we’re training partners,” you say with a quiet laugh.

“Actually, we’re swole-mates.”

You can’t help but laugh as you turn onto your tummy and bury your face into your pillow. Your cheeks are heating up as you hear Hugh’s voice on the other end.

“What’s so funny?”

“Can’t believe I got you to say swole-mates.”

Hugh chuckles. “Listen, um…” You can hear him breathing on the other end and it seems like he’s hesitating. Nervous. Anxious, maybe.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to come by my place and have lunch after our workout next week?” He finally asks.

You bite your lower lip and without hesitation, you reply. “That’d be great. Are you gonna cook for me, Hugh?”

Hugh lets out a breath of relief and then chuckles. “That’s the plan, yeah.”

“Oh, then I’d love to have lunch with you.”

“I’ll pick you up and we can ride together to the gym?” He asks.

“That sounds great, Hugh.” You can’t help but imagine all of the different things that could happen and you can just feel Hugh’s hands on your hips, his length pressed against you as it was earlier. You need it. You need him. You weren’t the type of person to indulge in casual relationships, but after your last and most recent failed relationship, it’s time you prioritize yourself (and that includes your needs and desires).

“Alright then, love. We should call it a night.”

“Okay, Hugh. I’ll text you my address.”

“Perfect. Good night,” he says softly.

“Good night, Hugh.”

You hang up the phone and then look up at the ceiling once you roll onto your back. You have one week until you see him next and you’re sure that something will happen and it excites you. Hugh excites you.

Before you go to bed that night, you send a text to Hugh with your address. Within a few seconds, he replies.

HUGH: Great. Can’t wait to see you next week. Good night, love.

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #hugh jackman x fem!reader #real person fiction #real person fanfiction #real person fanfic #story: training partners

902 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 10 months ago

Text

Personal rhythm: Jason Todd x reader

Summary/request: Jason finding out that you've never slow danced before, and he goes out of his way to arrange a dance for just the two of you alone.

thank you @miraculous-panic ;)

***

„What do you mean never?”

‘Seriously Jason, it’s a five letter word. One of the most common used in English. With all the books on your account this is not the question you should be asking.”

***

It was a Saturday night.

Movie night.

Y/N and Jason facilely decided that after all week of working/vigilanting, some silly teenage drama to cool off and relax would be in place.

And that’s how they ended up watching „To all the boys I’ve loved before”.

Or rather - binging through the whole trilogy.

Or - in other words - giving commentary and laughing at every other silly, cliche scene.

And it was so good and so nice and so peaceful, finally not having a care in the world and just relaxing in each other’s company.

Any other guy would probably complain about the choice and force his way to Fast and furious or some Jason Statham action movie, but not Jason. Truthfully as long as they were both spread comfortably on the couch, his head on her lap, being treated with the most welcomed head scalp massage, he might have watched the Paw patrol or Dora the explorer and not say a word.

However-

All good things must come to an end.

After something around 4 hours they finally reached the prom scene. The choosing king and queen of the ball scene. And the slow dancing scene.

And that changed the serene atmosphere.

„Do you see that Y/N? Come on, this guy can’t even lead her properly. I swear if he was moving like that in a real life poor girl will have her feet trampled.”

„Guess they should have hired you for the scene.” Y/N laughed in response.

„Damn right they should have! After all you were the one to say I remind you of the guy who plays -- what was his name again?” Jason rolled on his back so he could stare up at his girlfriend.

‘PETER!” she laughed as if they didn’t hear that name like 100 times already

„Right! Right, Peter! Of course! Still think I’m way more handsome though-”

„Damn, you’re such a tease Todd!”

„You’re my girlfriend, you’re supposed to agree with me!” Jason sat up abruptly, turning her head back from him and towards the screen. „Now, watch it carefully and confirm my theory. He doesn’t know how to slow dance, does he?. Seriously, from a girl’s perspective. ‘’

„I --”

„Are you blind now?” Jason smirked at her indecisiveness.

„Hey!” the punch on his arm did nothing to hurt him but was definitely a surprise

„Just admit it! Guys don’t dance like that! This is not the way a girl- a woman-- should be held!”

„How would I know?!” she finally exploded, her emotions pushed forward because of Jason’s obliviousness.

„What do you mean--?”

„I never slow danced!”

‘Never?” now that was shocking. Yes, they rarely dwelt in the past, especially the time frame in which Jason was absent, but how come he never knew about that?! shit, what else did she missed from the teenage/young adult years? And how the fudge he didn’t make it right yet?!

‘Do you want me to spell it out for you?” she rolled her eyes stopping the movie „N-E-V-E-R”

„you’re right it’s a five letter word. One of the most commonly used in English. But to me, in this context, it doesn’t make any sense.” he grabbed her hands pulling her forward to him and looking straight into her eyes, smirking. „That’s bullshit and I won’t be fooled.”

„You’re being fooled by not being fooled.”

„Huh?” damn that girl had some twisted logic on her. „the hell does that mean?”

„It means I’m telling the truth.” she blushed slightly despite her best effort to act cool. It was a bit embarrassing to admit to her boyfriend that she lacked in the experiences of youth.

„No shit!” he laughed

„This is not funny!”

„This is plenty funny!”

„Oh, like you slowed danced before!”

„I didn’t get to go to prom, cause as you might have noticed I’ve been dead at the time--’

„Like I could ever forget that.” she rolled her eyes in annoyance to cover up for the heartache she felt at the memory.

„- I did slow dance.”

„What now?! With who!? Cause definitely not with me!”

„Is someone jealous now?” Jason leaned forward

„You wish Todd!”

„Jealousy is a bad trait, you know. I’d advice you to stop it baby...”

„Or what?”

‘Or I might have to actually help you enrich your experience.”

„Oh really, and how --?”

That sentence was cut by a involuntary squeak as Jason pulled her to her feet, almost causing the girl to crash with his hard chest due to the force.

„Shit, sorry Y/N. Forgot how tiny and light you are.”

„I am--”

„Sh.” the tone of his voice and the gesture of putting his finger to her lips definitely couldn't stand opposition. „don’t you dare saying another word, I forbid you. You are tiny and light. And now, I’m going to make you feel like a fragile princess in the arms of a handsome and brave prince.”

One of his hand found a way to her waist, the other to her shoulder blades, grabbing her firmly but delicately. For some crazy reason she actually did feel secure and loved in his hands. Like nothing wrong could happen as long as she was held like this.

As long as his eyes were focused solely on her.

And it was both terrifying and wonderful experience.

„You can touch me, you know. It’s not like you haven’t done it before....” Jason chuckled at the way her hands hung awkwardly by her sides

„You’re ruining the moment, dipshit!”

„You’re the one using invectives baby. Don’t get any silly ideas in your head. You’re not going anywhere. Not until you get that slow dance.”

‘I’m make-up-less and wearing sweatpants.”

„And you’re still the prettiest girl in the world ”

„We don’t have any music.” she objected almost causing Jason to groan.

„Here.” he grabbed her hand and put it to his heart „feel that rhythm?” she nodded „good. Very good. Now this is the only sound you should be focusing on. Cause it resounds for you. You hear me, Y/N?”

„I hear you....” she whispered

„It’s only for you, baby.”

„i thought you weren’t romantic....” his grip on her tightened as he pulled her closer to him, swaying gently right and left, their feet barely moving, but it was still considered slow-dancing for them.

„I’m not. But I can be for you....” he muttered against her hair, planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head „You even made me dance, which is enough of a sign that I’ll do anything for you. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

„Can you just be yourself? The guy I fell for?”

„I suppose that can be arranged.” he smiled, even though she couldn’t see it with her face pressed to his chest.

And they would stay in this silence, moving to their own song for much longer if it wasn’t for their cat jumping on the couch, right on the pilot, and resuming the movie on the prom dance performance.

Giving Y/N and Jason a chance to put that scene into reality and adapting it into her their lives.

First time.

With many more to come.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood fluff #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction

456 notes · View notes

artists-ally · 1 year ago

Text

{Flatline} OFC x Harvey Specter {Pt. 1}

I got the title from this song called Flatline by Jared Benjamin. I added it to this playlist of very Harvey Specter vibes if you'd like to listen. There will be multiple parts, around three so be sure to stick around for those. As always comment and tell me what you think, or pop by in my asks. Anyhoo enjoy my loves!

Word count ~ 10,619 (it is a very fast paced read I promise)

Warnings ~ Age gap, smut (18+), handjob, no real BDSM but Dom/Sub concepts, language, alcohol, anxiety/anxious thoughts, probably really inaccurate lawyer terms idk man.

Summary: Harvey has taken notice of the hardest working first year associate, Claudia Martin. Despite being petrified of the infamous closer, she tried her hardest to not let it get the best of her. Harvey has a few ideas on how to increase her confidence.

Tagging : @maxdamax @ashcosmo @rosedpetal (This is basically just dedicated to you three so I hope you enjoy it the most!)

~~~~~

“Alright, everybody stop,” Harvey announced. I put down my file and sat ramrod straight in my seat, eyes darting at the other associates as they put theirs away too. “We have been working on this case now for four hours and no one has brought me a single thing that I can use as evidence. Now, if someone doesn’t put a file in my hand in the next ten minutes, we’re going to lose. And those of you who don’t want to get stuck doing whatever bullshit Louis is going to punish you with, you better come up with something fast.”

I looked at the blue file in my hands, heart hammering in my chest as I saw Harvey leave out of the corner of my eye. With a deep breath, I pushed up out of my chair and followed after him.

Circling around the office a few times, I made up reasons and excuses not to go see him. It was stupid, I knew that, but I didn’t want to bring him something and then immediately be called an idiot for bringing him shit he already knew.

I saw how he treated Mike. And Louis. Even Donna from time to time.

There were two things you did in this world: die, and respect Harvey Specter. As a first year associate in this god awful firm, you didn’t dare break his trust or waste his time.

“Is Mr. Specter available for a moment?” I asked Donna. I hadn’t talked to her much, but I’ve heard her speak to Harvey a few times around the office. She was someone I wished I knew better, someone I wished I could ask for help, but I didn’t want to bother her either.

“Yeah, he’s in his office going over the statements from the mock trial,” Donna smiled, pointing over her shoulder. I nodded, willing my feet to move in the direction of his office. I knocked before pushing the glass door opening, keeping my head down.

“Claudia, now is really not a good-” “I have something for you,” we spoke at the same time. “I’m sorry to interrupt, I can come back and-” “Is that for the mock trial?” He asked, and I nodded. “Hand it over.”

I placed the file in his outstretched hand as he came around to sit on the corner of the desk. My hands were trembling with dread as his eyes raked over the words on the page. The lines in his forehead creased, eyes narrowing.

“Claudia, this is brilliant,” he had a very confused expression when his eyes met mine. “Where did you find this?”

“Well, I figured if Mrs. Thompson said that she didn’t pay her rent that month, because there wasn't money in her account, then there had to be some kind of a trail. Some clue. There was, but it was only an amount, and it didn’t say which account it came from. When I did some digging, I found out that she uses Capital One banking and when I looked at her bank statement-

“There was a draw for the exact amount that Mr. Saros used to bet on that game,” Harvey finished before I could get the words out of my mouth. “Claudia, this is genius. Come on, we’ve got a case to win.”

____

“...Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this compelling evidence reveals that Mr. Saros was in fact fraudulent and used his ex- wife’s funds to continue gambling. Thank you.” Harvey closed the argument, taking a seat besides Donna, who represented the client. Jessica looked to the opposing counsel as if to say ‘do you have anything?’. Louis had nothing. Not a sliver of hope.

“Then it is decided, Mr. Saros will be charged with a misdemeanor and face a prison sentence of one year in county jail.”

With a crack of the gavel, the case was over, and applause rang through the office for Harvey and his team. I had a tiny smile on my face as I left the conference room to go back to the bullpen. There was an endless stack of reports to run, motions to file… it never ended when it came to Louis. And now that I was on the winning team I’m sure that-

“Claudia, where are you going?” Harvey called out.

“Oh, I was just going back to my desk. Why, is there something that you need?” God I hope he didn’t need anything. I was sweating bullets by just standing next to him.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on your first win,” he gave a small smirk. His brown eyes were sharp, but not as intense as they usually were.

I flushed, “Well, it’s not really a real case.”

“No, it’s not. But seeing what you did today, how would you like one of your own?” He extended a blue file back to me, a stack of papers covered inside. I could feel the gaze of the other associates on me as I hesitantly took the file.

“Mr. Spector, I’m honored, but I’m not-”

“Yes you are,” he cut me off. I bit my tongue. “You are a lawyer, Claudia. And you clearly have an outside the box approach to your tactics which we don’t see very often. I haven’t seen someone able to compile and order evidence like you since Mike came to work for me a decade ago. I’ll be supervising your case, you report to me with any questions you might have, but otherwise this is all you.”

My first case… given to me by Harvey Specter himself.

“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered. I flipped through the file, seeing that this wasn’t just some pro-bono case. This was against a big time client and the SEC. The SEC meant Sean Cayhill, who, from my understanding, was already on the rocks with this firm and has been for a very long time.

“You can thank me when you win it,” he extended his hand, and I shook it, hoping that they weren’t sweaty. “Look over the file tonight and come ready to swing tomorrow morning.”

Harvey’s hand was warm, and significantly larger than mine. Everything about him was bigger than I was, especially his ego. And his personality. Lord help me…

My nod was the only confirmation that I would meet him there. As he walked out, I met some of the eyes of the associates and they scowled at me. At the file in my hand. At the fact that I hadn’t said a word the whole meeting today and then came up with the winning piece of evidence. And now I was working alongside Harvey.

The infamous closer at Pearson-Specter-Litt.

____

“Claudia, what’s wrong?” Donna startled me so bad I dropped my coffee on the floor with a shout. “Something’s really wrong.”

“Oh, it’s just you Donna,” I sighed in relief. I could feel the coffee seeping into my shirt and chilling against my skin. “Great.”

“What has you so skittish?” She asked, worry gracing her features.

I didn’t want to admit that it was because of Harvey and the fact that I had to work alongside him on this case. I hadn’t been able to sleep much last night because I was up thinking about him, wondering how he’d handle this case himself. What he would do, how he would do it. Sure, I admired the guy, how could I not? He was a perfectionist and always found a way. I wish I had half the confidence he did.

“It’s Harvey, isn’t it?”

“How did you know that? Nevermind, you’re Donna. But… Yes it’s because of Harvey.”

“Did he say something to you yesterday after you guys won the mock trial? I saw he handed you a case file, what was it all about?” “That's precisely what’s wrong,” I groaned, bending over and picking up the dropped paper cup. “He gave me a case of my own as a 'thank you' for finding the evidence that won the trial yesterday. I’m terrified of him, Donna. I-I don’t know how to act around someone with that kind of personality. He is so abrasive and forward and harsh and-”

“A total jackass?” She finished for me.

I chuckled nervously, “I’m afraid to even think of that word in association with his name. I mean, how am I supposed to work alongside someone that intense? Plus, I’m a first year associate, how am I supposed to compete with what he as to offer and-”

“Hey, it’s okay. No need to get yourself all worked up, Claudia. Harvey is a lot of bark, and only some bite.” “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“What I’m trying to say is that there is some heart inside that cold dead chest of his,” she smiled, a genuine, friendly smile. “For what it’s worth, I’ve never seen him give someone a case after a mock trial. Not even Mike. Up until yesterday I’m not even sure he knew you existed.” “Wish it was still that way,” I rolled my eyes, folding my arms against my chest.

“Claudia, listen to me. Yes, Harvey can be rude and obnoxious, but he is the best damn attorney in the state of New York. He didn’t get to the top by being nice and sweet. He was impressed with your willingness to bring him the evidence yourself. Now he knows he can count on you to get things done in a pinch when he needs them.” “I had that evidence for an hour,” I emphasized. “I was trying to build up the courage to give it to him long before he came and ripped us to shreds for not having anything. I just didn’t want him to think that it was a stupid idea or to be in a bad mood and turn me away because I definitely wouldn’t have done it at all after that. I don’t know how to deal with someone like him, Donna. What am I supposed to do? I should just give the case to Griffin or Thomas-”

“No no no. You are definitely not going to do that. That will only show Harvey that you aren’t serious about becoming a lawyer.”

“I am serious about becoming a lawyer.” I was mildly offended that she’d even say that to me. “Of course I want to be a lawyer, it's all I’ve ever wanted.”

“And Harvey will only know that if you work on this case with him.”

I inhaled and exhaled, leaning my head back and looking at the ceiling. “Fine.” “That’s my girl,” she grinned. “Now, come on. I have an extra dress you can borrow because I am sure as hell not letting you walk around covered in coffee stains.”

“I appreciate it, but I don’t think what you have will fit me.” Donna jerked her head over her shoulder and I followed to a closet in the back of the file room. When she opened it, it was like a full blown wardrobe. There were dresses and shoes and purses and hair supplies lining the walls. “Woah…” “Don’t ever underestimate the power of Donna,” she winked before rummaging through the office closet.

After searching for a few moments, she pulled out a lovely royal blue dress that was, as she hinted at, a perfect size for me. How she knew that it would fit, I’ll never know. But I did know that I wouldn’t ever underestimate the power of Donna ever again. She’s magical.

“Now, what do you say?”

“Thanks, Donna,” I smiled sweetly.

“Actually I was looking for ‘you are an ethereal goddess who makes all my dreams and wishes come true’ but that works too,” I knew she was teasing, and I gave her a small shove of her shoulder. “Go get dressed, come back here and let me do your hair.”

“What’s wrong with the way it is?” I turned to look in the mirror on the back of the door and grimaced. “Oh…” My messy curls from yesterday looked more like a rat wrapped around a bunch of fishing line.

“Hurry up, Harvey will be back soon and I want you in that office, file in hand, ready to go when he gets here.”

I quickly shuffled to the bathroom and changed into the form fitting, very Donna-style dress. It didn’t look half bad, and I actually somewhat tolerated the dress. Normally I’d find a pants suit far more flattering and business appropriate than a dress, strictly because of the over sexualized nature of women's business clothing.

I hate the corporate world.

I did one more glance in the mirror before heading back to the break room to grab the file. I must’ve set it on the counter while I was pouring my coffee. Hopefully it wasn’t ruined.

There was no blue file on the counter. Or the table. Or on top of the microwave or the fridge. I even checked inside the microwave. Nothing. It was nowhere. Oh shit.

“Do you want curls or for me to straighten-” “It’s gone,” there was a clear panic in my voice. “The file, it’s not in the break room, Donna. It’s gone.”

“How can it be gone?”

“I-I don’t- I don’t know I thought I set it on the counter while I was getting coffee and it’s not there.” I felt a cold sweat break out onto my skin. My forehead was damp to the touch.

“Okay, take a deep breath. Let’s go look again and then check your desk. Maybe someone found it and put it there, or maybe left it with me or Gretchen. It didn’t grow a pair of legs and walk away, we’ll find it.”

“I’m gonna get fired,” my voice was almost a silent whisper, tears building behind my eyes, prickling my nose. “Donna, Harvey is going to kill me.”

“Worst comes to worst we get a new file, Harvey will never know.”

“No no no he will because he had notes of his own on the papers in there.” “Shit,” she swore. “Let’s just go look.”

We speed walked through the bullpen, earning some odd looks as we practically sprinted through the office. She checked the break room for me again, and I went to my cubicle. Nothing, not a blue folder anywhere to be seen.

Donna came up empty handed in the break room, checking with Gretchen on her way by Louis’s office. We met at her desk. Nothing.

“Fuck fuck fuck this is bad.” My hands were shaking, heart thundering against my ribs. I felt faint, like I could’ve fallen to the floor at any moment. “Donna, what am I gonna do?”

“Maybe somebody mistook it as their own file,” Donna blurted out after a moment of silence. She took off towards the bullpen and I followed after her, right on her heels. She marched through there, unapologetic as she invaded the other associates' work spaces.

Still nothing. No blue file labeled ‘Devlyn Inc. Vs. Fulton Dynamics’.

“Where the hell could it be?” She murmured to herself.

“What are you guys looking for?” An associate, Benson, asked.

“Oh, you know, a leprechaun pissing pieces of gold,” Donna’s voice was full of sarcasm. “Claudia set down a file in the break room for three minutes and forty-two seconds and now it’s mysteriously disappeared. Know anything about it?”

“No,” he pressed his lips together. “Not really.” “Not really?”

“There are a million case files floating around this office, you really expect me to pay attention to every single one and where it’s going?” “As an associate of this firm, yes, actually. I do. Now I want to know if you know who took her file and I want to know right now. You have one chance to tell the truth, otherwise the bottom of my stiletto and your ass are gonna be great friends.”

Benson swallowed, “I truly don’t know. I’m sorry, I can keep an eye out for it. Is it the one Harvey gave Claudia yesterday?”

“Yes, and he needs it in twenty minutes,” Donna said, an undeniable urgency in her voice. “If you find it, do the right thing and give it back or so help me god you will find yourself jobless faster than you can get down on your knees and beg me to let you keep it.”

Donna beckoned me for her to follow and I did, my heart sinking and sinking into my stomach. It had to be around here somewhere. It had to be.

I did another lap around, rummaging through all the drawers in the desk and thensome. Still nowhere. How could I be so stupid? So irresponsible? This is exactly why I didn’t want to take this case in the first place.

Despite all Harvey and Donna said the other day, I’m not ready to be a lawyer. Not really, anyway. I know I have my license and I’ve passed the Bar. I’ve done all the hard work, but this was… this was hell. A living nightmare. Not only was this firm constantly on the verge of collapsing, but it seemed like I made new enemies every other week by simply doing my job quickly, quietly, and efficiently.

I don’t know how or why I piss everyone off all the time. I just do my work, I quite literally don’t bother another soul in this building unless I have to. Occasionally I’d ask Donna a question that she could ask Harvey or Mike to see what they thought about it. I’d never speak to them directly, just through her which didn’t make me feel good, either.

I’d eat by myself, working through my meal. It took me two months of being here to finally use the break room because I was too nervous about taking the last tea bag or power bar from the cabinet. I just took a disposable coffee cup and filled it with tap water. And then kept that cup because I didn’t want to take the others because I figured other people needed them for coffee and I didn’t want them to be all gone-

“Claudia,” Donna interrupted my mild panic. “Harvey wants to see you.”

Oh no… no no no not yet god please not yet. I swallowed, or tried to at least; there was no moisture in my mouth whatsoever. I stood, knees trembling as I smoothed out the skirt of my dress.

Before I went on, she ran a brush through my hair, taking out the knots. It lay sleek and flat against my shoulders, a major difference from the low bun I always kept it in. My hair always made me so hot; I never understood how anyone could get anything done with it swaying in their face all day.

I could see him in his office, eyes staring us down as we rounded the corner. His gaze was locked on me and I felt my body tighten and constrict around a breath. Harvey was sitting on the corner of his desk, fingers toying with the cufflink on his left wrist..

“Hey, look at me,” Donna spoke softly, hands coming to my shoulders. “Give Harvey the truth, and nothing but. He will understand, if not, I will make him.”

I nodded.

When I pushed open his glass door, tension was thick in the air. My palms were clammy, still shaking. My mind was going a million miles a second.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Specter?” I asked, trying to keep my cool despite almost throwing up.

“Please tell me you have some good news about the case that I gave you,” he sighed, pushing off the desk and standing in front of me.

Welp… here goes my career.

“Actually, Mr. Specter there is something I need to-”

“You were looking for me, Harvey?” I whipped my head over my shoulder, seeing Griffin knocking on the door.

“Yes, Griffin come on please, shut the door as well.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I can come back and we can discuss the details of-”

“No, Claudia. Stay for a moment,” Harvey gave a firm nod, full attention slipping from me to my fellow associate. “Griffin, I see you have something for me.”

“Yes,” Griffin threw a wicked grin at me before handing over a blue file. I could feel the sick rise in my throat. That was my blue file. “I would just like to go over the details of my case with you to get your input.”

“Your case?” Harvey questioned, sharing a glance between me and Griffin. “Where did you get this? Who the hell gave you a case?”

“That’s not important. I was hoping we could actually-”

“No,” Harvey cut him off. “It’s very important, actually. Because I can recall that just last night this exact file, with my handwriting, was in Claudia’s hands. So whatever act you’re putting on, I suggest you cut the bullshit right now.” “Okay I found it in the breakroom,” Griffin rolled his eyes. “Maybe if she were a little more responsible, which she clearly isn’t because she left her documents in a public space, then she’d be more equipped to handle a real case. Like a real lawyer should.”

I could see the muscle in Harvey’s jaw clench and contract several times.

“Claudia, care to explain how our case got in this thief’s hands?” “Thief?” “I had spilled coffee,” I started, taking a deep breath when Griffin cut me a gaze so threatening I almost crumbled to my knees. “I spilled coffee and Donna offered a change of clothes for me. I didn’t even notice I left it. When I came back it was gone.”

“Well, I think that about settles it. How about you get out of here before you cause yourself a real problem. And If I ever catch wind of you stealing another one of Claudia’s files, or anyones for that matter, I will personally make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” he ground his teeth, refusing to look at either of us.

“Now get your ass back to your desk and pray to whoever you believe in that I don’t have you fired and disbarred for the shit you pulled today. Get the hell out of my sight.”

Griffin was out of there far faster than he walked in, head down, hands shoved in his pockets. I let out a shaky breath.

“Are you okay?” Harvey asked me. “I’m so sorry,” I completely ignored his question. “Griffin was right, I was extremely irresponsible and shouldn’t have let that file out of my sight. If you want to give it to another associate I completely understand. Again, I am so sorry and understand that there are consequences to my actions for letting such important information go missing-”

“Claudia, slow down,” he eased. “It’s okay, you are not the one I am pissed at.”

“You’re not?” I didn’t understand why. “But- but I completely misplaced a case.”

“No,” Harvey shook his head. “No Griffin is the only one to blame. You spilled coffee, went to go get cleaned up, and he stole it. He should know better. And seeing that he clearly doesn’t, I know I’m right in my decision on who to bring onto this case with me.”

I could feel my blush creep up my neck. “I appreciate that, Mr. Specter.”

“Of course, Claudia. And please, call me Harvey.”

I just gave a subtle nod, taking the file from his hand. I followed his gaze from my face to my hair where he took a strand between his fingers, letting the end curl around his digit.

“I’ve never seen your hair so long,” He added, dropping it from his grip. My breath was caught in my throat. Words were vacant shadows in my mind as he surveyed the dress I was wearing. “I bet that’s Donna’s, isn’t it.”

I had to clear my throat before I could speak. “She wouldn’t let me walk around with coffee stains all day.”

“It looks good on you,” He complimented. Harvey’s eyes, again, went from my head to my toes. There was nothing I could do but fall victim to his… I didn’t know what to think of how he looked at me. Couldn’t decide if it was good or bad.

“Time for the case then?” I needed to get his attention off of me. Now. I was flushed and losing my mind. Harvey didn’t really seem to acknowledge my words at all.

“Sure.” Was all he gave me.

____

I barely escaped with the skin on my teeth after our consultation. No, he didn’t rip me to shreds, but he would not take his eyes off of me for even one second. It was so… so potent I couldn’t focus. It was almost lunch when Donna came in and saved my ass.

I couldn’t have gotten out of there fast enough.

“So, how did it go?” Donna asked as I sat in my cubicle. When she came around, or maybe she just followed me, I didn’t know.

I put my face in my hands. “It was a disaster, Donna. I was a stuttering mess and I kept forgetting everything I was going to say because he would not stop staring at me. Like, he would not stop.” “Well, you aren’t exactly ugly, Claudia,” she snickered.

“Donna, this isn’t funny,” I groaned. “I’m being completely frank with you.”

“How can I be expected to work alongside him when I can’t stand being in an enclosed space with him for more than four minutes without turning into a bumbling idiot? It’s like he enjoys watching me get flustered.”

“Claudia, I think you are making this a bigger deal in your head than it actually is.” Donna came around and sat on my desk, crossing a knee over the other. “And besides, Harvey understands what it’s like to be a new associate. It can be nerve wracking, especially when you have Louis breathing down your neck.”

I chuckled gravely, “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You’ll figure it out.” “Why can’t you just tell me?” I whined as she stood up.

“Because I am the Yoda to your Luke Skywalker. Wise you are, patience you must have, my young Padawan.”

“I am not a Jedi who is going on a self discovery journey to start using the Force,” I countered. “I am a nervous wreck who can’t handle being alone with Harvey Specter.”

“Then you need to get over it because Harvey is not going to berate you on your first case!” She argued.

“Did you not hear what he said to Griffin? Or-or to Thomas when he suggested that we consider taking the deal that Mr. Saros had offered during the mock trial? He cracked them wide open and left them to bleed. What about with Mike? How many times has he almost sent him to the curb for not being able to find what Harvey needs?”

“Mike is different and you know it,” Donna lowered her voice. “Plus he always says shit like that to light a fire under his ass. Harvey can see that you are nervous to work with him. He isn’t going to hang you out to dry, I promise. He stood up for you, Claudia, in a way I’ve only seen him do with me and Mike. You know how much he cares about us.”

“Well, yeah of course. But you’ve worked for him for fifteen years and Mike almost seven now. You have a relationship with him and established trust. How am I supposed to have that with him when I can’t even look him in the eye?” “It comes with time, Claudia,” she rubbed my shoulder. “But if there is anything I can say to get you to trust the process, Harvey is loyal, almost to a fault sometimes. He will stop at nothing to make sure the people he cares about are taken care of. I can see that he wants that for you because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have given a shit if Griffin stole the file or not.”

Donna walked away after smoothing down some of the hair on my head, disappearing behind the corner. I let out a huff. She was right, I was being a little over dramatic.

Harvey had a reputation, though. How was I supposed to know if- no. This is unrelated to anything going on. Sort of. I just need to focus on the case.

I pulled out the files and looked over them again, compiling all the notes into one space for easy recall. As I was looking through it, I found a loophole in one of the contracts that unbound our client from having to give up half of her company.

____

I paced up and down Harvey’s office, tapping my file in my hand as I went through all my key points in my head for today’s trial. I needed to lure, or bait rather, the witnesses into my questions to get them to admit to trespassing on our clients property. We had everything we needed; security footage, witnesses to testify on our behalf… Everything was all lined up. I just needed to blow it.

I could do this, right? I had only spent all night doing a fake run of how today would go in my mirror, but then again anything could happen when I got into that courtroom today. Maybe they had another leg on us, maybe there was another witness they had to testify against us.

God dammit, if I screwed up today I wouldn’t get another case. Probably not ever again unless I packed up all my shit and moved to Iowa.

Having Harvey there didn’t make me feel better. I thought it would, but as we worked together I realized he only made me more nervous. I couldn’t help it, he just looked at me this way I couldn't describe. It was incredibly annoying, I don’t know how Mike does it. Or Donna. Or Jessica or Louis or-

Jesus focus, Claudia. I rubbed my eyes with my thumbs. Just focus focus focus. I’ve been over it a million times. I could do this. I didn’t have a choice, court was in less than half an hour.

“Claudia,” Harvey ripped me from my concentration, making me jump. “Sorry to startle you. Are you ready for today?” “Not really,” I admitted. “I am kind of freaking out, to be honest.”

“It’s okay,” he eased me to sit next to him. “What are you so nervous for?”

I chuckled, “Everything.” “Okay,” he gave a half-hearted laugh. “What specifically? Just name one thing that you are worried about.”

“I don’t know- forgetting cross examination questions? Screwing up the order so it doesn’t lead him into our trap? A billion things could go wrong and I’m not sure what to do if I freeze or stutter. What if the jury or the opposing counsel laughs at me?”

“That is not gonna happen, Claudia,” Harvey reassured. “You have prepared some amazing questions, you’ve got this in the bag.” “You know, I much prefer to stay in the background and do research. I don’t think I’m cut out to handle court stuff this is-”

“Hey,” he said so softly I almost didn’t hear him. He grabbed my trembling hand and held it between his own. My body went completely rigid, chest puffing in and out with heavy breaths. “You are going to do great today, I know it, Claudia. You are prepared, capable, and even more prepared. This is always what you’ve wanted to do, isn’t it?” I just nodded. Over the past week and a half of working together, I had told him what made me want to be a lawyer in the first place. About how I saw my best friends’ parents' business completely ruined by a group of robbers and their insurance did nothing to help them.

It made me so sad for them, made me feel so sick that I knew I had to do something to help them. I did my research and then brought it to them. They brought it to their lawyer and ended up getting a settlement for far more than they were ever gonna get. All because of me and my discovery that I made on my computer when I was thirteen.

“Okay. Think back to teenage Claudia for a moment. I bet she dreamed of being in this exact position. Where she can help people and give the sorry bastards who put them there a taste of their own medicine. Well, Claudia, here you are. Your very first case. Your very first helping hand. Your very first entrance into the world of the law. And you are going to absolutely shake up those witnesses, blindside them so hard they won’t have a choice but to tell the truth. This is your moment, Claudia’s moment. Don’t let fear take it from you, okay?” Again, all I could do was nod. And think about how warm his hand was in mine. We stood and he let go, leading me out of the office and down to his car waiting for him in front of the building. Ray, his driver, greeted me sweetly as I settled into the back seat with Harvey.

I flipped through my cards over and over and over on our way to the court house. Harvey snatched them from me. “Hey!” “You know the material,” he gave me a pointed look, sliding them in the breast pocket of his jacket.

“I know but-” “There is no but,” he shrugged. “Have just one ounce of confidence, Claudia. Trust yourself.”

All of whatever I had been reading was swept from my mind as he placed his palm on my knee. I hadn’t realized it was bouncing up and down until he pressed against it to stop its movements. I tried to sit still, but I just started picking at my nails instead.

“Claudia,” he said in a stern, commanding voice. I stopped my fidgeting, laying my hands flat in my lap. “Good, just relax. Everything will be alright.”

Highly doubtful. He was playing a dangerous game, and we both knew it. But neither of us said anything as he left his hand there the entire car ride.

____

“After the conclusion of today’s trial, the jury here finds Fulton Dynamic guilty of trespassing and breaking and entering with intent to steal inside information.”

I felt the tension deflate from my body, eyes fluttering shut as the judges whacked the wooden disk on his stand. He said something, but I couldn’t even hear over the roar in my ear. Holy shit we won…

“Claudia,” Harvey shook my shoulder. I snapped my eyes to him. “Come on, let's get out of here.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice.

I rested my head back against the seat, eyes focused on the window outside so I wouldn’t throw up. Man did I hate getting car sick every time I looked at my phone when in a car. The city lights were bright and fierce, unrelenting all hours of the day. Why on god's green earth did I decide to move to New York? Out of all the places I could’ve gone to work as an associate in this state, why did I choose the city? I hate the city. I’ve always hated the-

“Yoo-hoo,” I heard from my side. I lifted my exhausted head and gave Harvey a look. “Did you hear anything I said?”

‘Oh… n-no I’m sorry,” I stiffened, giving him my full attention. “What were you talking about?”

“I was just saying that you did a great job today, Claudia. You kicked ass in there,” he smiled.

“Thanks, Mr. Specter.” I just let out a sigh.

“You don’t think so?”

“Not really.” Anxiety swirled in my chest. Tears pricked my eyes and nose.

“Why not? Claudia, you gave one of the best cross examinations I think I’ve ever seen. And the way you handled Cayhill? Defended Devlyn from those accusations? It was masterful.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Silence hung between us. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “You did great today.”

“I was a complete idiot when I was defending Devlyn. I was way too animated and let my emotions get the best of me. For Christ's sake Judge Peterson gave me a warning.”

“I want you to take a guess at how many warnings judges give me when I’m the one in there leading the case.”

“You’re Harvey Specter, of course you… get a lot.”

“You right, I do get a lot. But that isn’t a bad thing. And I’ve been doing this a hell of a lot longer than you-” “That’s the problem,” I snapped. “You have been doing this for seventeen years and I’ve been doing it for ten days. I’ve barely got my toe in the water and I’ve already shown other lawyers and firms that I can’t keep my cool.”

“Claudia, you are passionate. I don’t see that as a huge problem in the courtroom. There needs to be a level of pushback from attorneys because if you, of all people on someone’s legal team, aren’t going to fight back, then you might as well be fired. Because you are the only person some people have hope for. You have to be aggressive and assertive sometimes to get the job done.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“I am going to teach you,” Harvey’s words completely short circuited my brain.

“What do you mean?”

“Claudia, I think you’re going to be a great lawyer, even without my help. I know you struggle with confidence and that is all I want to help you with. To get some leverage over these other associates so you can climb that ladder.”

“I can’t just magically pull a wagon load of confidence out of my ass overnight,” I shook my head, folding my hands tightly together. “I don’t see how you can help me.”

The car pulled up outside the building and Harvey let out a sigh. Great. Now I’ve pissed him off, too. That’s exactly what I needed to do was piss off Harvey Specter after a great win. In all honesty, it had been a good day. I didn’t fumble the ball like I was going to, but this was completely taking away from them.

My door opened. Harvey looked down at me from outside and extended his hand. When did he get out of the car? I hesitantly took it, getting out and shutting the door behind me.

“Claudia,” Harvey started. “You need to learn to let go. To put the bad moments behind you.” “I can’t.” “Which is why you and I are going to go back up there and have a drink. Get to know each other a little bit so we can start building that trust. I know I intimidate you, and I try like hell to be as calm as I can around you, but one day Louis or Jessica or Donna is going to come into my office and give me some bad news. You might be there and see how I handle it. You might not, but I don’t want you to be afraid of that happening to you.”

“And how can I be sure that if I come up with a plan one day, and it falls through and goes to shit, you won’t flip out on me or fire me or-or-”

“Because I won’t. I give you my word. But I need yours as well.”

“Need my word, why?” “I need to know that you won’t think I’m a monster if you’re in the room and I lose my cool.”

I’ve never thought Harvey was a monster to begin with. I’ve always admired his ability to shut off his feelings and get the dirty work done. Of course I’ve seen that side of him a time or two, but never catastrophic like some of the stories I’ve heard from the third and fourth years.

“You have my word.”

The elevator chime brought me out of my spiraling momentarily to walk to Harvey’s office. The firm was empty, not even Jessica was here. He led me to his office and got to work on the drinks. My eyes wandered from him to the view through the window. This was the only part of the city I might’ve let myself enjoy from time to time.

“Donna was right, you do have a lot of music,” I noted, taking in the wall filled with vinyl records. She mentioned it when I was caught with my head buried in a book in the library, some random Beatles song blasting so loud she could hear it down the hall.

“You’re just now noticing that?” “Well, I haven’t exactly been in your office for anything other than to work on this case so… no I guess I never really noticed.”

“You can pick something to listen to, if you’d like.” He was gonna let me touch his records? This place was like a museum; autographed basketballs and baseballs, art hanging on the wall. “Or you can just stare at it.”

I flushed, picking up a record at random and handing it to him. In exchange, he handed me a glass a third full of whisky. I smelled it, it kind of made me scrunch my nose. I didn’t drink often; most of the time I was too tired to even feed myself let alone consume alcohol.

When I took a sip, I actually didn’t mind the taste. It was smooth, simple in flavor and didn’t burn too bad. Quite nice, for all it’s worth.

There was a couch along the wall of records that I fixed myself on, Harvey taking the time to remove his tie and lay it across his desk before sitting across from me on one of the chairs. I toed off my pumps and set them on the floor beside the table. God damn did my feet hurt.

“Do you do this with all the new associates?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs while I took up the couch.

“I mean, when you think they’re ready, do you give them a case and help them get their foot in the door?”

“No, no I don’t,” Harvey admitted. “Louis is in charge of the associates. You know that.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “But I just thought that there was some deal between you guys: you have a mock trial with the new associates, whichever team wins gets to give a case to the best performing associate.”

Harvey laughed. I didn’t even know he knew how to do that. “Oh, Claudia, you really are that innocent, aren’t you?” My throat collapsed on itself. What did I say?

“Relax,” he set his glass down, swallowing his sip. “Yes, we do a fake trial every year for the first years, but we don’t just give them cases when they win. No one in their right mind would give a first year associate, fresh out of law school, the time of day. Normally they have to prove themself down the line, after years and years of loyalty to this firm to get their first case. And it’s usually pretty easy pro-bono shit.” I had to stop and think for a moment before I could speak. “You keep saying normally, usually… What are you saying?”

“What I’m saying, Claudia, is that in my decade plus of working here, I’ve never seen an associate who busts their ass quite like you. Who takes every ounce of bullshit from Louis and turns it into the Mona Lisa.”

“I think that everyone does tha-”

“No,” he cut me off. A stern look in his eyes, lips in that crooked line. “No they don’t. Not like you. You put your head down, get into it, and don't come up until you’ve found what you were looking for and thensome. You go above and beyond every time. You don’t go to Louis begging for more work, he brings it to you, and only you, because he knows he can count on you. Which means I know I can count on you, too.”

I honestly didn’t know what to say. I kind of just wanted the ground to swallow me whole. To make me evaporate and never see the light of day again.

“Thank you, Mr. Specter. But I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not but I am not very good in the spotlight. I don’t do well with… all of this.”

“I know, but I’m glad that you are trying anyway,” his smile was very charming. In a way that made his eyes crinkle. “So, besides giving a hell of a cross examination, what else do you like to do for ‘fun’?”

“Well, for starters, your definition of fun, and mine, are going to be very different. I am a very solitary person, I don’t need to be around people to have a good time. Most of the time I prefer to go do things by myself because I find when I ask, people already have plans, or they’re faking having plans so they don’t have to hang out with me. I can’t tell what is the truth and what isn’t so I stopped asking… that was totally not what you asked. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble.”

“Go ahead, talk about whatever you want. I won’t judge you.”

A small part of me believed that he wouldn’t. A tiny, microscopic part.

“There is nothing like the feeling of getting lost in a good book. I’m a complete sucker for a cliche rom-com where the bad guy gets the good girl.”

Harvey let out a dramatic puff of air, laughing into the space around us.

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” I chuckled.

“I’m not, it’s just lame. Come on, what do you really like to do for fun?”

“That is what I really like to do for fun,” I let my hand fall to the cushion beside me. “I told you, I am not a very interesting person. I don’t have time for a whole lot of anything other than working here so… Most of my hobbies have been put on the back burner through grad school and working nonstop.”

“If you could be any type of sea creature, what would you be?”

“What does that literally have anything to do with anything we were just talking about?”

“It doesn’t,” Harvey smiled. “I’m just curious.”

“I don’t know, a jellyfish?”

“Really?” He questioned, one brow rising higher than the other. “I’d be a great white shark.”

“Of course you would,” I snickered. “Harvey Specter, the Great White of New York. If you wanted to be a real predator that no one fucks with, you should be an Orca.” “A whale?” “The killer whale,” I corrected. “They put sharks in the obituary for fun, you know. They sink yachts for fun, too. If you really want to be on top, be an Orca. No one in their right minds fucks with an Orca. They’re intelligent and not afraid of anything.”

“Aww, you think I’m intelligent and not afraid of anything?” Harvey mewled.

“Well, duh you’re Harvey Specter.” Everyone knew it. Harvey was the baddest cat in the sky, you didn’t approach him without giving him your respect. Cause if you didn’t, a whole boat load of shit will be coming your way.

Harvey rolled his eyes. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but there is more to Harvey Specter than the title my name comes with.”

“Of course,” I agreed. “Harvey Specter, badass attorney and the best closer New York has ever seen, killer whale of the corporate world.” Harvey couldn’t keep his laugh inside, sending the rumbling noise into the office. I made Harvey laugh, and I have for the past however many minutes.

“You left out the part where I’m devastatingly attractive and charming,” his smirk was nothing short of either of those things. Devastating and charming. It cut through me like a hot knife. I knew I blushed because his eyes went to my cheeks and that spot at the base of my throat that always gives it away.

My fingers tapped away anxiously at the glass in my hands, fingernails rattling against its crystal surface.

“It’s late I should… I should go.” Great, now I’m flustered and stuttering. As quickly as I could, I threw my heels back on and reached for my coat.

“Claudia-”

“Thank you for the drink, and for all your help on the case,” I hurried out, trying to not let my voice break and give away all the things I wanted to say. “Have a good night, Mr. Specter.”

“Claudia.” His voice commanded, stopping my movements. I held still on the couch, drinking in his stare. “Stay.”

“Mr. Specter I really should-”

“Harvey,” he bit out a little harshly. “Stop calling me Mr. Specter.”

“I’m sorry. Harvey, it’s late.” He just nodded, taking a sip from his glass. “And?”

“It’s been a long day and I think we should both go and get some much deserved rest,” I spoke quietly, resuming my nail picking from earlier.

“Do you really want to leave?”

It was such a loaded question. Yes, absolutely I wanted to fucking leave. But there was something deep in his eyes, deep in his voice that made me want to stay and explore. My heart was hammering in my chest. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, no matter how much I wanted to look away. It was impossible.

“I don’t think you do,” he answered for me. “I told you I was going to help build your confidence.”

You never told me how, jackass, I thought. I swallowed, nothing going down, but I did it anyway. Harvey threw back what was left of his whisky and sat back, knees far apart, fingers drawing patterns on the arm rests of the chair.

“Come here, Claudia.” What? “You heard me.”

Shit, I must’ve said it out loud. If I thought my heart was racing before, it sure as hell was halfway around the world now. Legs trembling, I rose. Why the fuck did I stand up? It wasn’t too late to make a beeline for the door and pray he didn’t catch up. Then again, it wasn’t like I could escape him, we worked in the same fucking building. On the same floor.

When I came to a halt, a few feet in front of him, he held out his hand, palm up. As I put my fingers in his grasp, there was nothing I could do. Harvey yanked me to him, other hand catching my hip as I collapsed into him with a yelp.

“Straddle my thigh,” he ordered. Something about the way his voice went down my spine made me obey. With extreme hesitance, I moved one leg on each side of his, lowering myself. I didn’t dare put all of my weight down. And he knew it because his hands came up to my hips and forced me all the way.

“Sir, what are you-”

“Do not call me Sir unless you are ready to deal with those consequences.” His fingers dug into the exposed skin on my thigh, eyes full of his pupils.

“Harvey, what are you doing? We shouldn’t be doing… whatever this is,” I tried to defuse the situation as best I could, but there was such a seriousness written in his features I wasn’t sure I could sway him. Maybe I didn’t want to, either.

“How does it feel?” He asked.

I blinked, “H-How does what feel, Harvey?”

He smiled at the use of his name on my tongue. I hadn’t really ever called him by his first name.

“To have one of the most powerful men in the city underneath you, bent to your will?”

When I did look away from his face, to where I was seated on his lap, I felt my stomach start to twist and mold into something new. I did have Harvey Specter underneath me. Granted, at his own command, but still…

“And before you even think about it, no. I don’t do this with all the other associates.”

“Then why me?” My voice was a barely there whisper, gaze averted from his until his thumb caught my chin and made me look into his eyes.

“Because I see something else in you that I don’t think anyone realizes. And I know the world will never see it unless you start believing in yourself and take control of the cards you’ve been dealt.”

I took a moment to steady my breath, and my uncontrollable thoughts. “And you think that whatever this is… you think this is going to help with that?”

Harvey shrugged, “I am in no way forcing you to be here, am I?”

My blush came creeping back. Of course he wasn’t forcing me to be here. I shook my head, my face just inches from his. I felt oddly relaxed under his touch.

“And I am not stopping you from getting up and leaving right now. It’s your choice, Claudia, but I think you want to be here, on my lap. Because if you didn’t, you would’ve already left.”

God dammit I hated this cocky son of a bitch. Was he right? Yes. Of fucking course he was. But the way his mouth curled up was dangerous. This was dangerous, and utterly a horrible idea. Was I really about to sit here, on one of my bosses thighs? He did look pretty good under me, shirt unbuttoned the top three, cologne wafting into the air every time he moved his head.

Harvey’s hands came back to my hips as he leaned up.

“So, are you going to get up and leave? Or, are you going to ride my thigh while I tell you how pretty you look?” His breath tickled my ear, his lips trailing the space just below. I couldn’t help the shudder that went through my whole body, and I knew Harvey felt it because he cooed.

As I adjusted myself, I couldn’t help the movement, his breath on my skin was making me flutter, Harvey moved my hips back and forth. I felt the air take from my throat. The material of his pants against my core wracked through me. So unexpectedly I found myself pressing closer to him so I wouldn’t fall off.

“That’s it, Claudia…” His voice was sickly sweet with praise. Harvey moved to fiddle with the front of his pants, and when I went to look, he caught my chin. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.”

“Harvey this… this isn’t the best idea,” I kept trying to reason. Not necessarily with him, but with myself. Obviously he wanted it, so why was I trying to convince myself to go?

“So?”

“This could have some serious implications if we don’t-”

He laughed against my neck, placing a few kisses right over where I always blushed. “Claudia, Claudia, Claudia. This is exactly what I have been talking about. You are wound far too tightly with concern. You need to let go, need to be out of control with something in your life.”

“Let me guess, that something is going to be you?”

“Only if you want it to be,” he said. “Look Claudia, I know we don’t exactly always see eye to eye on things, and we sure as hell haven’t really worked together, but that doesn’t make me less sure about this. About you. If you are having doubts, and this isn’t what you want, then walk away and we never have to talk about it ever again. But I think there is a part of you that really likes seeing me under you. That likes knowing you can make me this way.”

“And what if I do?” Harvey was right. God dammit he was right and he knew it. I looked and saw just what I had been doing to him.

“Then just let yourself enjoy it because I know I want to.”

Man, he was quite the smooth talker. My resolve crumbled and I gave in. No, I didn’t give in, I made the choice to let this happen. Harvey wanted this too, for some reason known only to the great mother and beyond. This was not going to end well, I don’t know why I thought so, but I just know this is going to cause a problem down the road. Maybe it’ll be a good one, maybe it won’t– Jesus I need to get out of my head before I start thinking into oblivion.

Harvey rolled his eyes, hand cupping the side of my face before his lips met mine. The gasp I let out… I could feel his smile. He guided my hand into the front of his pants, but did nothing else. Just left it there.

When I tried to pull away, he bit my lip and pulled me right back in. Finger pressing into the front of my throat. In a commanding, possessive way that made my stomach burn with desire.

I slowly traced around the outline of him. My fingers were trembling so fiercely that I wasn’t sure they were moving at all. As best I could control them, I made my way up to the waistband of his briefs, just… testing the waters.

“You’re so close to where I need you,” Harvey purred, eyes looking at my surly swollen lips. “Go on, sweetheart, don’t be shy.”

I guess there really was no turning back. As my hand ventured further, I ducked down and swept my tongue into his mouth. He approved very enthusiastically. Harvey continued to guide my hips back and forth and back and forth across his thigh. All too gently, all too slowly. One of his hands kept working my hip, the other camp up around my throat.

How could he know that was one of my weakest sides? It didn’t prevent any air, but it was a firm reminder.

His breath broke our searing lips when I moved my thumb over the tip of his cock. Harvey’s grip tightened on my throat and a noise slipped through my mouth. There was little I could do to keep my eyes from lulling back, head going with it. He made an effort to weave his fingers between my locks and pulled. A lot harder than I think he actually meant to.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured against my ear, sending goosebumps down my neck and arms. “I can’t help myself when you make such pretty noises. I’ll be gentle.”

I huffed out a laugh, as best I could with the straight against my neck. “I don’t mind.”

“Those are dangerous words, Claudia,” he warned, bringing my head back up. His eyes were dark in a way I couldn’t process in that moment. His lips were red and his hair was a mess from my fingers.

I tugged at him as emphasis for my earlier words. “I don’t mind you being rough with me.”

His eyes closed, and his jaw clenched. I continued my motions, slow and long, drawing divine noises from him. Even with his hands away from my hips, I still moved them, picking up pace with my hand. I took the liberty to occupy his mouth with my own, hopefully filling him with euphoria. It was fast, and quite messy. My hair was sticking to the back of my neck with sweat, and I could taste it on his skin when I couldn’t help but trail my tongue up his throat.

Harvey murmured my name, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t now, not with the constant moans and praise from his tongue. ‘Just like that sweetheart’, ‘I know that pretty mouth of yours will feel so much better wrapped around my cock’, ‘Can’t wait to take you apart’.

With his release, warm and wet over the back of my hand, he stilled my hips. Fingers digging in. At some point my skirt rode up, or he tugged it over my ass, and his nails left long lines of scratches. I hissed, and Harvey was breathing deep.

Harvey’s grin was nothing short of animalistic as he looked at where my hand still connected us. “Look at that, sweetheart. Look how well you’ve done.”

I could do nothing to keep my blood from rushing to my face. When I moved my hand– not entirely sure if I should get up and clean it off– Harvey snatched my wrist.

“Open.”

I was going to question him, but I watched his eyes flick over my surely swollen lips. I flushed deeper. And deeper again as he moved them into my mouth. Bitter, but not in a bad way. And If I had been thoroughly fucked, I’d undoubtably find it irresistible.

“Good girl, Claudia.”

There would be no way to recover from hearing that. I shuddered, so hard I clamped his thigh between my own, and whimpered. Like I had never before. And his stare… the way his eyes watched my tongue circle over my fingers. As they watched me swallow him down.

“I bet you didn’t even realize,” he tilted his head, tucking hair behind my ear, flopping it behind my shoulder.

“Realize…what?”

“How you took control. How confident you were with your hand… with that wicked tongue of yours. It was like it was second nature for you, wasn’t it? I didn’t even have to tell you to keep moving your hips. You just did it.”

I didn’t even know I was doing most of it… It all just happened. At some point or another.

“I wouldn’t say that I was confi-”

“Yes,” he interrupted. “You were. And that feeling, of being in control, is what you need to feel when you are in the courtroom. You were able to do it here, with me, to me. It was the most powerful and direct I’ve ever seen you.”

“Sex and being a lawyer aren’t exactly the same thing.”

“No, but you were able to feel safe and let yourself go. To release all that potential and work miracles.”

“You’d consider me giving you an orgasm a miracle?”

He chuckled, leaning so his lips brushed against mine. “Your hands do miraculous things to me, Claudia. I don’t normally give myself to someone the way I did with you. I didn’t have any second thoughts about it because I knew how willing you’d be to please me. And god damn do I love watching you pleasure yourself for me.”

In the minutes that followed, Harvey stood me up and straightened out my skirt. He did give me some hand sanitizer until I could go to the bathroom. I watched as he tucked in his shirt, buttoning his pants and rolling the sleeves back up his arms.

“Harvey?”

“Yes, Claudia?” His voice was much more mellow.

“How often is this… you know. Gonna happen?”

He smirked, “Why, already picturing yourself on your knees for me?”

I wasn’t, but I sure as hell was now. One thing that I needed to learn to do was control my facial reactions because judging by the way his stepped closer, he could see that I was, in fact, picturing his hand in my hair while he forced me to take it down my-

“Oh sweet sweet Claudia,” he chuckled, tilting up my chin. “You really are that eager to please me.”

“I was just wondering when you were going to return the favor.”

Harvey seized my throat, tighter than he had before. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I will have my name dripping from your tongue for so long you will forget it completely and beg for mercy. And when you beg for it, just know that you won’t get it until I say you do.”

#harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harvey specter x ofc #harvey specter smut #suits smut #suits #suits tv #mike ross #jessica pearson #louis litt #rachel zane #suits fanfic #suits fanfiction

465 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

AITA if I actively worsen my family’s sanity as revenge for worsening mine?

My family is that if two parents and three children (all in our 20s).

Without getting into deep specifics, basically, I’ve lost all the patience I’ve had for my family. My mom who is manipulative, my dad who is neglectful, my siblings who are egotistical and dismissive.

because I’m the middle child and oldest daughter I’ve been the brunt of every negative thing you could think of, and I dealt with it for… 25 years.

but this year as my New Year’s resolution I swore to treat them worse than they treat me. So every time my mom tried to manipulate me into feeling bad for her and to love her and to do the house chores, I threaten to kill myself and tell her that she was an awful mother and that if she really cared for me she wouldn’t ask me for things. (She knows I have mental illness that makes it hard for me to do things)

and when my dad puts my pet in danger I slap him and threaten to take his pet to a shelter to have him euthanized and tell him he should die alongside his pet (he is in his mid 60s)

I don’t do anything directly to my siblings because our relationship honestly isn’t that bad, but I did make a fake Instagram account that I use to call out one sibling for all the stuff they do to keep their image up or whatever (some bullying might be involved in their part)

and for my other sibling, who collects vinyls, occasionally I go and scratch up a vinyl they have. Just enough to make it seem like normal wear and tear, they haven’t noticed yet lol.

whenever my parents try to bring up my behavior to me I start yelling at them about how I’m crazy and they raised a crazy daughter and that everything I do is a result of their own creation. And my dad has offhandedly said to let a (female) pet die after she got injured once, so I bring that up all the time.

I tell him that since he hates women so much he should just shoot me like I know he wants to.

Over the past few months I’ve noticed that one sibling has become extremely paranoid, while the other has gotten very frustrated. My dad avoids me now and my mom is very obedient and quiet.

I don’t feel bad about this, and I know there are other things I could have done, but I feel like this has been worth 25 years of repressed anger. Now that the year is almost over, I’m considering that my New Year’s resolution be to try to fix whatever shit show has become of my family, but that’s not the point.

AITA for taking this revenge, or am I justified in paying them back?

the reason I don’t think I’m the asshole in this situation is that at least for the first several months, they tried doubling down on their bullshit. My mom got more manipulative, pulling out everything she could to make me feel bad for her and to submit to her again. And my dad became violent toward my pet, whom I’m protective of to the point where I’ve told every single person I’ve met that if anything happened to her I would kill everybody and then myself. (Luckily I was able to prevent my dad from actually hurting her, but the fact that he tried drove my goal further).

honestly, my sibling probably didn’t deserve it because we all pretty much ignore each other, but I’m holding the grudges from childhood when they would beat me up and break my stuff.

and before anyone says it, I went to therapy for four years and it just made me more angry

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

290 notes · View notes

spacebarbarianweird · 10 months ago

Text

The Dead, the Half-Dead and the Undead

Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is ten and, apparently, the thing she is a dhampir isn't the only problem Astarion and Tiriel have to face.

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, necromancy

Alethaine's age: 10

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion immerses himself in one of his books. It is a complex text that has been written by some ancient magic who had probably been completely insane

Necromancy is an interesting subject, but damn difficult for those without an innate aptitude for it.

It's still midday, but out there in the underground part of Daggerlake, it doesn't matter. The city is divided into two parts, above ground and underground. The city is mostly populated

by dwarves, halflings, and humans but for some reason it feels like home for Astarion.

Besides, the town dwellers had decided they'd better have a vampire of their own than be threatened by other undead.

Astarion is still puzzled by this. Yes, these people should be grateful to him and Tiriel for saving them from a particularly nasty fairy pact. But letting them stay? Tiriel, a half-elven warrior, is one thing, but him, a vampire? Do they really want to share the town with him?

But they are fine. They treat him like others would treat some retired wizard or a former mercenary. But he knows he must be careful - one mistake and the neighbors will remember who Astarion truly is and that there is a reason why he never goes to the upper town in the daylight.

And there is a complication Astarion always has to take into account.

“Dad! Dad!”

Astarion looks up and sees ten-year-old Alethaine. She is upside down, but the hem of her dress brushes the ceiling, ignoring gravity. There's a bit of forest dirt on the girl's shoes, and he can distinguish the smell of wood.

“I told you not to go alone,” Astarion says. When she was younger, Astarion often found it difficult to parent her. The moment she asked something or started crying, he was ready to do anything just to make her feel better. It took him time to get a grip and establish boundaries. He is her father. If he wants the best for her, he has to be strict sometimes. Even if the response is tears and anger.

“I didn’t go to the woods! I was in the meadow. It’s still in the town!”

Fair enough. The meadow is a favorite place for town kids since it is indeed the forest but their asses won’t get whooped by their parents.

“So, what is it, princess?”

Alethaine jumps on the floor with a soft “thump” and she inclines toward him making direct eye contact. Astarion still wonders sometimes if her eyes black because his eyes used to be, too, or because of her dhampirism.

Dhampir.

Half-undead. Does Alethaine even understand what it truly means to her? Town kids don’t really care and adore her ability to walk on ceilings and steal sweets for them. But will it last long? She is ten. When she and her friends grow up, they will notice things that make her different. Will they start fearing her the same way town dogs start howling if Alethaine or Astarion pass by? Will they avoid her? Will they force her out of town to go seek her own kind?

“I want a kitten.”

“Princess, last time I checked cats don’t really like us, either.”

Alethaine sits beside him and forces him to close the book. “No, you don’t understand! A week ago, I found a kitten! She didn’t like me at first but I’ve been bringing her food. And today Wyv let me hold her! She doesn’t mind me at all!”

“Wyv?”

“She is albino! She has red eyes and white fur! I think she went missing from her litter. Or maybe her mother's cat forced her to go. Please! Pretty please! She is so tiny, she won’t make it on her own! And I will take care of her!”

Alethaine stares at him with puppy eyes and her elven ears twitch with anticipation.

“Mum won’t mind, she will be happy there is an animal that doesn’t react to me as if I am some evil entity!”

“Princess, there is a very big chance this poor creature will run away once it senses me in the house. Last time I checked I am still undead.”

“And I am half-undead! Wyv got used to me, she will get used to you, too!”

Astarion flicks the tip of her nose. “But if your mother asks, you forced me to say “yes”.

Alethaine squeals and wraps her hands around his neck forcing him to drop the book. Astarion chuckles when he feels the soft prickling of her teeth on his skin.

“I will be right back!” Alethaine rushes outside, slamming the door.

He had 200 years of pure misery and it still hurts him to see how much was taken from him. But then… Thirty years of something else. Something he hadn’t wished to have.

A woman to hold and to love who is brave enough to trust and care.

Fifteen years of adventures, when they could go wherever they wanted and do whatever they desired. Then, they were offered to stay in Daggerlake, a small town near the Unicorn Rim.

Home was a concept unfamiliar to both of them and Tiriel sometimes begged him to return to the road.

But he was adamant. He needed a home. He needed a place to stay. To own. He wanted a place to stash all the artifacts and books they'd found, a comfortable bed to sleep and make love.

Tiriel wanted it, too, though didn’t admit it.

And five years later the thing he’d least expected happened.

He barely remembers how it was - he was so drunk on blood, he felt his undead heart beating. Then he found Tiriel and dragged her home to pin her to the bed.

As a result…

Alethaine.

His daughter. His flesh and blood.

Sometimes he treats Alethaine as a matter of course. Most men in Daggerlake have children, and usually more than one. But sometimes Astarion gets distracted and forgets where he is, and only comes back to reality when Alethaine taps him on the shoulder and then Astarion looks at her in awe, wondering how he even deserves her.

Ten years. Such a tiny piece of time but Alethaine’s whole life. Astarion can already see the woman she is becoming. The woman he will be proud of, the woman who will have the freedom he had to fight for.

Suddenly, Astarion realizes Alethaine has been missing for far too long. The meadow isn’t really far away and it’s already sunset - Astarion feels it.

Astarion locks the house and goes looking for his daughter.

It's already night when he gets to the meadow. Alethaine is there sitting on her knees with her head bowed.

“Alethaine, what did we talk about not being outside after sunset?”

She doesn’t answer. Astarion comes closer and sees that her face is red as if she has just stopped crying.

“Princess, what happened?”

“It’s my fault” she sniffs. “I should have taken her with me right away,” her shoulders tremble and Alethaine bursts into tears once again.

Astarion kneels beside her, not knowing what to do. He still hasn’t learned how to react to her tears properly - so he does the only thing that works all the time with both her and Tiriel and also works for him.

He hugs her.

Through her muffled cries Astarion manages to understand that the albino kitten got out of the shelter and someone kicked her with such effort she died instantly. Now the kitten’s body lies in a small hole in the ground with her mouth wide open and stains of blood on the white fur.

'It's not your fault, it’s the fault of whoever did this, not yours.’

“No, you don’t understand! I could have taken her with me! If you had said “no”, I would have given her to the neighbors! And now she is dead! She is dead because of me!” Now Alethaine almost screams with all the sorrow a ten-year-old girl is capable of.

Astarion hugs his daughter tighter. He often stays with her on his own when Tiriel leaves to do some adventuring job - and usually, Astarion has no trouble. But right now the only thing he needs is for Tiriel to be at home. Because she can find the right words. She always can. Because what exactly does he need to tell Alethaine? It’s the first time she’s witnessed death. And it was the vilest example possible.

An innocent creature was killed for fun.

Well, maybe he should find that person and break their legs. It won’t help but maybe it will make Alethaine feel better.

“Alethaine, let’s go home.”

Alethaine doesn’t answer.

“Princess, come on,” he repeats.

His vampiric senses feel that something is wrong. As if something eerie, and unnatural has started to happen.

Astarion glances at the dead kitten.

Then the kitten moves.

“What in hell…,” he mutters.

It opens its eyes which glow an unnatural green color. The paws twitch, and the mouth opens showing small fangs.

“Dad! Look! Wyv is alive! She was just wounded! And I thought she was dead!” Alethaine exclaims, grabbing the dead kitten. “We need to show her to the healer!”

Alethaine’s eyes glow with the same eerie shade of green.

Necromancy.

Alethaine has just used the “Rise Animal” spell.

A spell so difficult it takes mages years to learn it.

Alethaine drops the dead kitten on the ground as if it were a poisonous snake.

“No… What is wrong with her, Dad?”

The kitten immediately sits up and freezes. Waiting for orders.

“She is dead, isn’t she?” Alethaine sniffs. The kitten doesn't move, staring at her with its resurrected eyes.

Necromancer. If being a dhampir wasn't enough for her. Necromancers have always been outcasts with their abilities to raise the dead and cast the darkest of spells.

Alethaine is one of them. Twice an outcast.

“Alethaine '' Astarion makes her face him. “Listen to me carefully. There must be strings, connecting you with the kitten. Like a puppet doll. You need to cut them.”

“But she will die”

“It is already dead. it’s not a life. Put it to rest.”

Alethaine wipes tears and the weird glowing fades. Alethaine concentrates, looks at her hands, and then makes a movement with her fingers as if she were tearing threads.

The dead kitten falls on the ground like a puppet.

Alethaine sits down tired and exhausted. Resurrecting a creature, even small animals, is a difficult spell requiring much energy even from adult mages. For a ten year old it’s the equivalent of hiking in the mountains.

Astarion takes Alethaine in their hands.

“Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Will you and mum still love me if I am a necromancer?”

“Of course, we will.”

“You can’t get necrotic damage, can you?”

“Well, I am very undead myself. So fear not, you won’t harm me even accidentally”

“And mum? She is mortal, she can get hurt.”

Astarion sighs. Damn, ‘Tiriel should come back sooner, I can’t answer all those questions’.

“You won’t hurt her. Don’t worry.”

Silence. The little dhampir doesn’t believe him. Alethaine sniffs again.

“Did it hurt when you were resurrected?”

Astarion has to make an effort to keep himself composed. It is still traumatic. Still hurts. Two hundred years of pain. Tortures. Isolation. Transformation.

“I am a vampire, not a ghoul. Ghouls don’t feel anything. They are already dead. you resurrected the flesh but Wyv didn’t feel anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Alethaine, promise me you won't try to practice alone, all right? No one must know you are a necromancer. People won’t understand. ”

The rest of the walk home is passed in silence. That evening Alethaine refuses to eat, and all attempts to cheer her up fail. She's heartbroken and scared, and whatever is weighing on her mind, she just can't process it.

He needs to think something up. The sooner, the better. Before Alethaine harms herself or someone in the town.

Alethaine can't sleep.

It's been a week and she feels terrible. There are whispers on the edge of her mind, dark and frightening, they call to her, they promise her something.

Alethaine can't shut them up.

She sees threads stretching from her fingers to the dead animals. Worse, she feels the threads leading to living people.

Cause them necrotic damage, the darkness whispers. It is going to be fun! Strike fear in them, make them scream, make them cry! And drink their blood if that’s to your liking!

Tiriel didn’t say anything when she heard what had happened. But Alethaine sees uneasiness in her eyes. Of course, she is afraid! There are strings attached to her as well, one or two necrotic spells and she is dead!

Astarion left two days later - he said he would try to look for something. Alethaine cried and begged to take her with him, but he refused.

Alethaine has locked herself in her room, barely leaving. But the silence and solitude are the fuel for nightmares. For the darkness. For tempting whispers.

The little dhampir gets out of her bed and goes to her parents’ bedroom. Tiriel is fast asleep under a blanket. Peaceful and quiet.

Alethaine fumbles at the door. She is ten, not three! She is too old to sleep with her mother. But the thought of spending one more night alone with those whispers feels awful.

“Kitten? Are you alright?”

“Mum… can… I…”

“Come here.”

Alethaine gets under the blanket and her mother’s arms immediately wrap around her.

“I am afraid,” Alethaine finally admits.

“I know, Kitten. Dad will think something up.”

“What if I hurt you while he is away?”

“You won’t”

“How can you know that? I am a necromancer!”

Alethaine turns around to see her mother’s face.

“Alethaine, you are also a dhampir and I don’t remember you ever trying to drain me. And you’ve had your fangs since you were five months old.”

Alethaine relaxes and hugs mother back.

“Mum, did you always know dad was a vampire?”

“Hm, I learned it on the third day I think. Woke up to him trying to bite me. He is lucky I’d already liked him.”

“And you weren’t afraid to be with him?”

“No. Your father was a troubled person, not easy to handle. But he was worth it. I know you are scared. People don’t take it easy when someone can cast dark spells. But it doesn’t mean you have to be alone or be a bad person, even if it’s expected. You will meet people who will accept you for who you are. Who will love you. One of the kindest men I knew was a warlock with a devil pact. Things aren’t always what they seem.”

Your mother’s blood is so warm! You’ve tasted it once, remember? When you were dying of bloodlust! Bite her, take what is rightfully yours!

As if hearing the intrusive thoughts, Tiriel hugs her daughter tighter.

“Whatever happens, we will always be with you. We will help you, we will support you, and no matter what happens, you can always trust us. Even if you do something really bad. ”

Alethaine sniffs and buries her nose in her mother’s neck.

The darkness steps away, and the girl falls asleep.

She doesn’t have nightmares for the first time that week.

“Alethaine,” she feels a soft tap on her shoulder. “Wake up.”

Alethaine opens her eyes and sees she is still in her parents’ bed. Tiriel, fully dressed, stands at the doors.

“Hm?”

“Dad is back. Could you go down to the basement?”

Alethaine, still half asleep, dresses up and goes down. Her senses immediately tell her Astarion isn’t alone.

“Hello, princess,” Astarion strokes her head the moment she gets closer.

A man in a dirty red robe sits on the wooden bench. His head is bald and his right eye is missing. Instead, there is a blue gemstone with intricate runes.

“Astarion, don’t you tell me she is a dhampir.”

“Oh, she very much is! Alethaine, this is Nris. He is going to be your teacher.”

“Astarion, I deeply appreciate you for saving me from that devil but I am not morally ready to teach a dhampir necromancy!”

“I doubt you will be able to pay me. My services are expensive. And I can always sell you back to the devils. I need you to teach my daughter necromancy. End of story.”

“For fuck sake… How old are you?”

Alethaine steps back. “T-ten”

“Fuck, this is the worst age ever! In a year she will hit puberty and it’s bad even without dhampirism and necromancy!”

Alethaine looks at her father.

“Dad, I don't like him.”

“He is a necromancer, princess. People aren’t supposed to like them.”

“Astarion, I knew I shouldn’t have made deals with you! A devil is better than a vampire! At least with devils, I know what to expect! Alethaine, you know what your father did? He took advantage of my desperate situation and forced me to make a pact with him.”

“Nris, don’t be stupid. It’s a working agreement!” Astarion grins. “And I can summon your former master any time, and, I fear, this time he will be harsher on you.”

Nris curses again, and Alethaine makes a note to use one of the slurs next time she gets into a fight.

The necromancer stretches his right hand, covered in weird tattoos. “Come here, Alethaine.”

Nris sends a shiver down her spine, but Astarion only nudges his daughter slightly, forcing her to approach the mage.

“Dhampir, necromancer, and all this with Fey blood. You did pick the wild cards out of Tasha’s cauldron. What exactly did you do to make your father save my ass from the devils?”

“I-I revived a kitten.”

Nris flinches. “I hate sorcerers to my guts! I’ve spent decades learning how to revive small animals - and you did it just like that! But good for you that you didn’t resurrect a human because if you had, the townsfolk would have burnt you alive. I was trying to make the darkness talk to me and it still doesn’t answer back but it calls upon you like an old friend. Life is truly unfair, Alethaine Ancunin.”

Alethaine is silent, unable to stop staring at the gemstone in the eye socket. The runes move resembling trapped flies.

“Very well, let’s start from learning the basics!”

Astarion leaves the basement. When he glances back he sees Alethaine drawing runes on the floor while Nris is giving her the lecture.

Astarion is tired. He didn’t have time to rest during the week, and besides, the worry of leaving a ten-year-old necromancer who didn’t understand how to control her powers alone with Tiriel plagued him like a nightmare.

Nris doesn’t look like the most decent or talented mage but he is bound to him by a pact and doesn’t have any desire to return to the devils. So, he is going to live in the secret basement under their house and teach Alethaine as much as he can.

Wild cards out of Tasha’s dungeon. Yes, that’s true. An unlikely child with dangerous skills.

Astarion finds Tiriel in the inner yard, throwing axes into the wooden wall. He approaches her and hugs them from behind, placing his chin on her shoulder.

“Tired?” she asks.

“Can I take your blood?”

She touches his curls with her tender fingers. “Of course.”

Astarion indulges his fangs in her neck. Blood streams down his throat, calming him down. Tiriel falters. He immediately releases her neck and takes her in his hands to carry Tiriel to the bedroom.

When they get there they lie together on the bed, their fingers intertwined. Due to sharpened hearing Astarion feels a distant echo from the basement. It seems like Alethaine and Nris have started a screaming match.

“You really didn’t warn him, did you?” Tiriel asks, drawing invisible symbols on his back.

“Maybe. Kind of.”

“Well, at least I won’t be the only mortal in the house.”

“Tiriel, don’t make him your drinking pal, I beg you!” Astarion laughs.

“What? A mug of ale after a difficult day hasn't hurt anyone yet.” Tiriel touches the tip of his ear. “Meditate. I will be with you.”

Astarion nods. Thirty years of happy memories are enough to give him bliss. He concentrates and lets the flow of memories take him to reverie.

Astarion holds Alethaine for the first time. A newborn girl is probably still in pain after being pushed into the world. He hears her fast heartbeat as her living heart pumps half-undead blood through her veins.

He cradles her in his arms. Alethaine is so warm, so delicate, so innocent. It’s not yet clear if she is a dhampir but Astarion knows he loves her. It’s a different form of affection, unknown to him. A selfless love for a child, a desire to make sure she won’t endure the same hardships as he did.

And she must not know.

Astarion gives himself a promise. His daughter will never know about his past. it will never taint her. The pain, the touches, the humiliation, the violence - she will not know a word of it.

Her mindset will be free of that dirt and of that darkness. He won’t pass it.

“Thank you, my love,” Astarion whispers. “This is a gift.”

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume

190 notes · View notes

sillylittlegirlthoughts · 3 months ago

Text

rekindling | chrismd

Jersey had been your home for the past 28 years. Moving away was long overdue. London seemed like the place to go, the capital. So be it. Boxes were littered all over your flat. Your staring burning holes in the cardboard. Finally standing up and stretching tearing open the first box. You brought it to the kitchen and began to make the place yours. In your bedroom, six hours later the newly placed clock read 19:47. You decided to take it easy putting on mindless television and pouring a generous glass of wine.

A box solely dedicated to knick knacks, little trinkets and a few shoeboxes filled with memories. Placing some little plants around your room along with many a teddies who you refused to let go of. The shoeboxes were all getting pushed under the bed without a question when one flung open and the contents spilled out.

It was your earliest memory box.

You found yourself neglecting the remainders of your packing and your sole focus being on the spilled shoe box. A ticket to Harry Potter and the half-blood prince. A movie you went to see with your closest childhood friends. Friends you hadn’t heard from in a while. Some photos. You remember going to print yourself. You, Chris and Arthur all squished together. Faces bright red after spending all afternoon in a trampoline park. Another one, taken with your childhood dog. The last one was just you and Chris hugging eachother after you blew out your candles on your 13th birthday cake.

You missed them. You weren’t going to lie. Nothing you could do about it. Life happens. Although. You couldn’t take your mind off the two boys. The boys you loved so dearly. An Instagram search wouldn’t hurt, right?

You knew both of them pursued YouTube and yes in the early days you kept ho to date with them. However, it seemed they had gotten incredibly big. You smiled, you couldn’t not. You were so proud of them both. They looked well and seemed to be happy where they are. You thought about following them. You thought how crazy is that thought. Then you did it. Following them both. They had thousands of followers anyway, they wouldn’t realise.

chris & arthurs pov

You didn’t pick a great time to do that, considering they were sitting together, amongst two other friends— Arthur Hill and George Clarke. Chris jumped, seeing the notification. “Y/n y/l/n?” He spoke, ArthurTV’s eyes instantly widening. He wondering why Chris mentioned her so abruptly. “What?” His voice was slightly high pitched. The other two guys sort of just glanced at one another each feeling a Deja vu feeling to your name. They watched as they scrambled instantly looking at your account.

“It’s her, mate.”

Chris noticed the confused look on his friends faces. “Y/n— she was me and Arthur’s best friend. We haven’t heard from her in forever.” George nodded, “So, are you gonna contact her?”ArthurTV flinched, startled by the idea of rekindling. He didn’t know if childhood friends could become friends again considering so many aspects of their lives had changed since then.

“Uh, I don’t know if that’s the greatest idea.” Arthur (tv) mummered and Chris gave him a glare. Chris’ head was already thinking of how great this reconnection could be. How much their other friends would just adore her. “Why not? She followed us. We followed her. We can’t just do that and move on,” Chris sighed. “Right, look. Just say hello. If she doesn’t reply it’s not the end of the world.”

“You message her Chris, you always were closer to her.”

your pov

You had been staring at the chat between you and Chris thinking of anyway to start a conversation, until he sent you one first.

chris: hi y/n, how have you been?

y/n: hi chris, i’ve been good recently got my dream job so i suppose not to bad. how have you been?

chris: you’re a writer? that’s amazing. I’ve been good. YouTube still going strong.

She smiled at that message, after all fo these years he still remembered her passion for writing fantasy novels.

a few weeks later

Chris and Arthur had made plans with Y/n, to see her again and catch up on everything they had missed. Unfortunately, Arthur has been working like crazy at the moment and Chris can’t bare to know that Y/n is in London and he is not visiting her. Therefore, it was just Chris and Y/n.

Chris embraced her in a tight hug, his arms going around her waist holding her as tight as ever. Her arms went around his neck smiling into his hoodie. They sat down at their seats at the café. “I couldn’t believe it when you followed me. I must’ve checked ten times to make sure it was definitely you.” Chris chuckled turning towards the girl who had grown to be even more beautiful than he remembered. “Yeah well, when I was moving I was putting my memory boxes away,” Chris hummed remembering how you’d gather any physical memory of occasions. “One spilled open and it was just filled with memories of the three of us. I couldn’t help but try and find you guys. Which wasn’t too hard.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. We were both extremely happy. Quite ironic actually, we were just talking about you the other day.” He spoke softly, Y/n humming along as she admired him. He had let his hair form naturally his curls forming. He had grown a beard. The first time he ever had facial hair. It was long but it suited him.

Chris later got home, the smile never fading from his lips. Once he arrived through the door he found everyone sitting on the sofa. “You’re home earlier than expected.” ArthurTV mummered. “As are you. Are you not meant to be shooting?” Chris questioned his friend who sighed and explained how the video ended up being significantly shorter than anticipated. “Someone looks giddy,” George Clarke teased, laughing as he saw his friends face. Completely lost in his thoughts about Y/n. “He’s fancied her since they were 12. Im not suprised it’s rekindled.”

Chris retorted some rude joke towards his three mates who continued teasing him profusely.

He may have left out the part when they kissed.

authors note!

hey sorry for the delay on this one and it is much shorter than i would’ve like but i didn’t want to delay putting it out any longer than i already have. i love the idea of two people rekindling so here you go.

#chrismd #sidemen #willne #calfreezy #callux #chris dixon #ethan payne #george clarkey #harry w2s #james marriott #youtube #arthur hill #arthurtv #italian

56 notes · View notes

rellsingsovern · 6 months ago

Text

There’s no grounds, Jawbone!

On Wednesday afternoon, three days before spring break, The Bad Kids receive their late report cards and open them together. That Friday, they are marched through a door, expecting to die.

The POV of various parents and teachers of The Bad Kids, during the days leading up to the Last Standard Exam.

Chapter 2: Denial (read chapter one on ao3 at rellsingsovern!)

Riz came home exactly when he said he would, which immediately tipped Sklonda off to the fact that something was amiss.

It was late for the town of Elmville, which meant that her night was just getting started. Who says 9:52 pm on a Wednesday night can't be the perfect time to start reviewing her court footage? She’s 20 seconds into the video and three minutes into hitting the refresh button over and over again (curse the Strongtower wifi) when the sound of a motorcycle grumbling up to the building down below blended into the whine of the single fluorescent bulb up in the ceiling of the living room (curse the Strongtower electricity). Her ear flicked of its own accord a few minutes later, registering no footsteps approaching, as to be expected of her rouge son, but picking up the rustling of papers coming from the hallway through the thin walls.

She frowned absentmindedly. Ever since her and Riz had had that talk in November she’d done her best to pay more attention to his habits and tendencies regarding his fucking insane schedule. Much like one of his boards, he kept all his belongings in an ordered chaos she doubted even Pok would have been able to wrap his head around. Sticky notes on papers, papers in folders, folders in binders, highlighters and rubber bands and paper clips in every color made their way from his backpack to his briefcase to his backpack again, leaving Riz his hands free, an intentional move on his part. Wouldn’t be a very good rouge if I couldn’t draw my gun because I’ve got someone’s homework in my hands, he’d quipped to her early in the year, before the bags under his eyes became darker than a bruise and his eyes twitched as much as they blinked, before Fabian started throwing parties Riz for some reason still went to and before Kristen roped him into-

The sound of a pin in the lock snapped her out of her own head and back into her apartment. The part of her that was Sklonda Gukgak: Mom of Riz noticed Riz stumbled through the door lacking his usual grace, most likely due to the backpack that had been progressively more and stuffed full of school supplies ever since Falinell (it made her wonder why he didn’t open his briefcase as often anymore). The part of her that was still Chief Detective Sklonda Gukgak of the Elmville Police Department noticed that in Riz’s hands were his lockpick that he used to enter the apartment and a pile of envelopes and coupon papers that was certainly their mail, bills and coupons and more bills and a dark red envelope with the official stamp of Aguefort Adventuring Academy on it.

And more bills. Great.

Her ear flicked again, and she absent-mindedly thumbed the arrow keys on her crystal laptop, the ones she knew didn’t work anymore, taking in her teenage son who was home before 10 for the first time in a while. “Hey sweetie,” she greeted, eyeing the papers in his hands. She always got the mail, on account of Riz just straight up Misty Stepping into the apartment in a rush between school and his office and school again. “I’m glad to see you, you hungry or anything?”

Riz stepped through the door, closing it behind him, looking down through the lenses of his glasses. “I’m fine, thanks mom. Jawbone ordered Bastion Market.”

She hummed, thinking of the two most recent text messages in her crystal.

3:06 pm

hi mom just finished yearbook club heading to mordred then stand-up night then home around 10 getting rides from fabian love you

4:48 pm

Hey Sklonda Jawbone here, Riz mentioned something about an event he was supposed to attend tonight but he’s decided to stay here for dinner instead, perfectly all right with myself Sandy and Lydia but just wanted to update ya in case you go looking. He’s not taking the grading news too well. I’m sure he’s told you about it but just a heads up. Working on a solution for the kids in the morning, yall hang tight 👍

Riz had, in fact, not told her about ‘it’ yet. Sklonda had had half a mind to call Sandra-lynn to see what Jawbone had meant, but decided to wait until Riz got home, although she had expected to see him way later, if not the next morning. She eyed the red envelope he still held in between his fingers, flicking the lockpick with a small thwack thwack thwack on the seal and wondered if that was ‘it’.

“Thanks for getting the mail, kiddo.” She knows he knows what she’s actually saying. You never get the mail, that’s my job, you’re home early, what are you doing?

What’s wrong?

He shrugged his seemingly 50 pound backpack off his 90 pound body, putting it on the floor but not taking his eyes off it. “Just thought I’d get it on the way up.” His voice says, steady and even-toned.

Former Chief Detective Sklonda Gukgak sees his body language say please don’t question me further.

Hah, Mom Sklonda Gukgak thought to herself. Not a chance in hell.

“Y’know,” she said, closing her laptop and pretending not to notice the way her son’s shoulders rose to his ears immediately. “Whenever you give me a time you’ll be home by, you’re never actually home at that time. And I know you’re very capable, Riz, but I worry about you.”

He muttered something under his breath, holding out the stack of bills to her, holding that damn envelope in his other hand, still not making eye contact.

Riz was a perfect rouge. He had a light step and a light touch and an impeccable aim. He had a brain that ran a million miles per hour and a goblin grit he inherited from his father. He’d been picking the lock to the apartment since he was twelve and learning to shoot a gun since he was thirteen. He was smart, sneaky and secretive.

But he didn’t keep secrets from her.

After Pok died, Sklonda had tried to keep many things from Riz. How scared she was. How exhausted she was. She would throw herself into work then throw herself into bed, crying with her face in Pok’s pillow as the signs of him faded from their life, as silent as she could so Riz wouldn’t hear. His desk became dusty, his razor sat unused, and his pillow stopped smelling like his cologne. She ran and ran and ran from the pain, never thinking about it, closing the door to his office where the ghost of her husband sat until Riz had tried to leave for school one day in shoes too big for him and a briefcase that hadn’t left the apartment in weeks.

At her protests, her nine-year old son had looked at her through his shaggy hair with big, sad, golden eyes. Pok had always been the one who gave Riz haircuts.

You never talk about him anymore, he said. You pretend you aren’t tired all the time and you pretend he’s not gone.

It hurts, mom.

Her beautiful, brilliant, investigative son had deduced what she wouldn’t, what she couldn’t tell him. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It’s okay if it hurts. I’m still here.

She didn’t open the door to Pok’s room, and she didn’t let Riz go to school with his shoes. But from that day on Riz toted a briefcase everywhere, and on his tenth birthday she gave him a haircut, his own pair of brown loafers (still a little too big, but at the thrift store you take what you can get) and took him to Cravencroft where she whispered all her deepest fears, laid them down on the dirt under her son’s knees and in front of her husband’s grave, confessed to the bone-deep exhaustion that weighed down her arms and her legs and her heart.

Gukgaks don’t give up, Riz whispered back to her, golden eyes shining like suns, an echo of his father’s favorite phrase. She looked at his close-cropped hair and saw Pok. Then she looked at the bags under his eyes and saw herself.

After that Sklonda only had one secret to keep, and Riz had walked into Pok’s room and blew the dust off his desk two years ago in a mighty whirlwind of a 15 year-old detective hot on the case. With the blood of a dragon still hot in her stomach, she and Riz had promised to never hide anything from each other. Not their stress, not their exhaustion, and not their thoughts. Never again did she try to hide her tiredness from Riz, allowing him to replace her cold cups of coffee and lead her to bed on the days when her feet felt like stone, and when he got too jittery and manic with a drive to solve whatever mystery he was currently on she pressed at him until he eventually spilled his guts and she could get him to call a friend for backup in getting him to sleep at least four hours a night. Riz had been raised to notice all he could and never back down, and she had been the one to do it. He had his adventuring party, and she had a new job and new friends, but it was still just the two of them at odds with a world not meant for goblins, two Gukgaks in a shitty apartment, one weighed down with something they wouldn’t confess to and the other who noticed looking up through golden eyes.

Sklonda held out her hand for the red envelope.

Riz, who told her everything, who called her in freshman year every time he discovered something or murdered someone, who as soon as he got back from his spring break quest told her about Pok, who told her about the Loams and the Spies Tongue curse and Fig’s (maybe) god, did not hand it over.

Not a chance in hell.

“I’ll be in my room,” Riz started, leaving his backpack by the sofa as he turned and started away.

“What’s in the envelope, Riz.” She said, pushing as much goblin mom into her voice as possible and knowing it worked when he froze in place. “I don’t like knowing there’s a secret you’re keeping from me.”

“It’s not important.”

“Of course it is.”

He laughed under his breath, still turned away from her. “No, I mean like, it’s really not important anymore. Nothing in there matters.”

“Riz…”

He laughed again, and something in her stomach, a liquid mix of hot worry irritation worry froze into something heavy and cold like dread as his laugh broke into a dry gasp, sharp and cutting. “It’s fine, mom, really.”

“I’m sure it’s not, whatever it is, but I’m sure it’s not that bad either. You can just tell me honey, you know I won’t ever be mad.”

Her words seemed to register and nudge him away from whatever he was spiraling towards, but she still felt her lungs tighten and the cold sharpen in the pit of her stomach. He turned to look at her fully, and she didn't flinch, would never shy away from her son, but his eyes were dull, darker than she’s ever seen, as dark as her own during those first few months of just her and Riz.

He handed her the envelope with shaky hands and in the blink of an eye was suddenly sitting down on the other side of the couch, pressing himself into the flat cushions like they could swallow him whole.

She opened the envelope with no small amount of trepidation, wondering what could be so bad that her son came home at a reasonable time at night.

Reaching inside, Sklonda pulled out two pieces of paper, one significantly bigger than the other. Looking at the smaller one first, her heart at first fell and the soared with pride as she beheld a small slip of paper detailing that her son had earned an A+ in his rouge track during his most recent semester. Student shows signs of mastery at mundane and arcane lockpicking. Student shows signs of mastery at detecting/disarming mundane and arcane traps. Student shows signs of mastery at dealing damage with both short and long range weaponry. Student shows signs of mastery at remaining unseen by others.

The list went on, and she turned to Riz with elation. “This is amazing, Riz!”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, sinking further into the cushions. “Read the other one before I vomit again, mom.”

She flicked open the larger paper with confusion, starting to read, and with every word the ice in her stomach turned back into red hot anger.

Dear parent/guardian,

Your child, Riz Gukgak, has been moved to PASS/FAIL academic status at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy due to FAILURE/EXPULSION of party member Kristin Applebees. PASS/FAIL academic status will nullify any and all extra credit earned from extracurriculars including athletic teams, school-sponsored clubs, and volunteer work in compliance with the Aguefort Adventuring Academy. Your child will be allowed to remain at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy for the duration of their current school year. They must attend graduation and complete their teacher evaluation(s) in order to be accepted back into the Aguefort Adventuring Academy the upcoming year. If your child is a part of any multiclass program they will not be accepted back into their additional academic tracks and must remain only in their primary class the upcoming year. PASS/FAIL academic status cannot be removed or rectified from a student’s academic transcript with exception of the undergoing and completion of The Last Standard Examination. Please contact guidance counselor Jawbone O’Shaughnessy with questions, comments, or concerns.

Regards,

Interim Vice Principal Jace Stardiamond

Failure. Expulsion.

Kristen Applebees.

“-and I don’t even remember if we’re eligible to take The Last Stand this early in the year or if we have to wait until the last semester, but Kristin will be forced to leave this Friday, so if we can’t take it, I don’t know what we’ll do, Fabian, Gorgug, and Fig will be screwed next year and-“

Her blood was boiling, her ears were ringing, drowning out Riz’s voice.

Failure. Expulsion. Campaign manager. Someone else’s homework. People who call him The Ball.

Kristin Applebees.

“-hates her, and I don’t understand why, it’s just not fair-“

“It’s not fair,” Sklonda hissed out, a mirror of Riz’s, her snarl cutting through the air and making the words die on her son’s tongue. Forcing her hands to be still, pushing down the hot flash of rage in her belly, she schooled herself into the professionalism of Public Defender Sklonda Gukgak. Her son needed the cool head and steady tone that she prided herself on, her analytical eye and her forthrightness.

She could fret later. Her son had been blindsided by something she really should have seen coming ever since November, and it was time to address it.

She continued, voice low, watching her son’s posture relax bit by bit. “It’s not fair. Thank you for showing me, baby. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Riz turned to face her fully on the couch, knee nudging hers, and the hotness of worry irritation worry surged behind her eyes for half a second as she noticed a vein on Riz’s forehead that had never been there before. “You’re not mad?”

“No, kiddo, not at you. Never at you.”

“But…” He worried the chain of one of his necklaces between his teeth, a nervous trait he told her he’d picked up over the summer. He had sat up out of the cushions, but his knees were still drawn up uncomfortably, pressing his arms into his chest. “Without the pension, and without the extracurriculars… the scholarships-”

Stress was a thing Sklonda was familiar with. It lived in her apartment walls, on the underside of the peeling wallpaper. It filled the rooms in the flickers of darkness when the lights stopped working. It sat in the bottom of her coffee cups, and she’d admit that she found herself chasing it like her son chased clues, with a lot of intensity and only a little self-awareness. She knows her son too well, just like his mother and father in all the best and worst ways. Riz had too much in common with her, too many bad habits, and she’d sooner go back to her old job than ever let her son send himself more into the same stress-filled state she lived in for his party members.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, shuffling closer and putting an arm around Riz’s shoulders, wincing when she felt they were far too tight. Something in her quietly cooed when he laid his head down on her shoulder, glasses being knocked askew, strands of green hair falling and tickling her chin. “I’m not mad at you. I know how hard you’ve worked this year, and I’m so sorry Kristin messed it up for you.”

The shifting of chains between sharp fangs stopped. “...What?”

She rubbed his shoulder, keeping her voice low and soothing. “You’ve been doing far too much for her since the beginning of the year, Riz, it was really a matter of time before-”

“Mom, stop!”

Worry irritation worry confusion dread pooled in her gut as Riz shoved himself off her side and stood up off the couch furiously. “You can’t say that about Kristin, mom, how could you?”

She blinked hard. “What do you mean, how could- she got expelled, Riz, I know she and Fig aren’t academically inclined but c’mon, at least Fig is actually trying.”

“And what makes you think Kristin ‘isn’t trying’?” Riz scoffed, claws making quotes in the air with a harshness that rivaled when he tore into Kalvaxus two years ago. “She tries harder than the rest of us combined, she works so hard-”

“At what, Riz? Her campaign? The one that you run for her?”

“You don't get to talk about Kristin like that!”

This is exactly the opposite of what she wanted to happen. She wanted to hug her son and tell him it would all be alright while texting Sandra-lynn and Jawbone about what the heck The Last Standard Examination was and how Riz could take it. She could count on her fingers the amount of times conversations with Riz had turned to shouting, and even then they were always family matters, never about his party.

Sklonda loved Kristin, she really did. From the back half of freshman year until spring break of sophomore year Kristin spent a lot of time in Strongtower, rotating between the Faeth house and Gilear’s place down the hall before he moved out, wherever Fig was staying that week. Then it was down a few floors in Jawbone’s; sometimes she could still hear the shrieks of laughter echoing up through the thin floors as a gaggle of 15 year old adventurers ran through the halls far later than they were supposed to (not that she ever had the heart to tell Riz to keep it down when he hung out with his friends). Riz was a quiet kid before he went to Aguefort; Sklonda got the idea that Kristin had never been so. She always said what was on her mind, even if it was exceedingly inappropriate (she’s heard enough stories from Sandra-Lynn about her and Tracker during spring break). Always loud, always chaotic, a girl who jumped from idea to idea like she jumped from home to home.

That was a little cruel of her to think, Sklonda had been the one to order the raid on her house, after all.

Kristin had gotten a little quieter after spring break, Even Sklonda, whose building was no longer the Bad Kid’s default hangout spot, could see that. But she had also gotten a lot more chaotic.

“Kristin’s a good kid,” She said slowly, frowning when Riz shoved his hands under his glasses. “But you have to admit she struggles to stay on track sometimes.”

Riz glared at her through his fingers. “Doesn’t give you the right to insult her.”

“I’m not insulting her! It’s just the facts, sweetie, I know she’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose. But-” She waved the paper towards him, and he flinched away as though she were brandishing a gun. “-there’s two names on this paper, one being my son who joined every single extracurricular at the school and one being a girl who’s name my former coworkers apparently know due to several dropped charges of trespassing at the steelworkers factory?”

“You know I’ve probably got stuff on me too, mom, my midterm in December was to break into a warehouse downtown and plant a non-lethal arcane grenade set to go off when discovered.”

She remembered. It hadn’t gone off until February. He’d gotten an A+.

“That’s different, and not the point. Yours was an assignment for school, and Kristin’s apparently not been doing hers.”

“She’s got reasons to struggle, her god died, mom, I was there-“

“She can still cast, can’t she? You do everything for her, why can’t she at least maintain a C?”

“Oh my-” Riz dragged his hands down his face, muffling his next words. “You don’t understand-”

“Riz, I just worry that-”

“It’s not Kristin’s fault!”

“Then who’s is it?”

“I’m trying to explain-”

“Riz, don’t make excuses for her, she brought this on her-”

A sound filled the room, a short, sudden thing that sliced through the air. Riz’s eyes went wide, claws half curled at his side, and she realized the sound had just come from him.

Pressing his lips together as though he could stop the violent hiss that just came out of his mouth, Riz turned away and fled down the hall to his room, leaving his backpack and briefcase and a burning sensation behind Sklonda’s eyes that she couldn’t tell was rage or tears.

Another swing and a miss from Sklonda Gukgak about her poor, poor, boy.

A light flashed at the corner of her vision, startling her enough that her eyes were pulled away from the corner Riz disappeared behind. It was coming from within the couch cushions, and she reached in to pull out a blinking crystal.

10:02 pm

u alive the ball? kristin and I are still out here i wont leave until you respond

10:03 pm

i know u dont want to but if u told ur mom shed understand im sure of it

10:08 pm

we’re still herwogoTAKD2739/@(

10:08 pm

ITS KRISTIN I STOLE FABIANF S CRYSTL TMRW MORNIGN FIRST THIGN BOBBY DAWNS OFFICS I HAVW AN IDEA

10:09 pm

I L OVE OYU MAN THat assholes gonna pay for failing me on a fuckin technicality

What?

The blood rushing in her ears drowned out the incessant drone of the fluorescent light, but straining her hearing she realized that several floors down there was still the rumbling of a motorcycle.

Someone else’s homework. People who call him The Ball. Campaign manager.

Kristin Applebees had dropped Riz off from her own house, had stayed with Fabian and refused to leave until he texted them back, and here Sklonda was blaming her and probing at her son until he hissed and ran from her.

All sensation left from her, and numbly she got off the couch and started toward Riz’s room, crystal in hand. Stopping outside the closed door, Sklonda didn’t bother to knock. She knew he knew she was there.

The door didn’t open.

I don't understand, I don't have all the facts, I don’t know what’s going on, please tell me, she wanted to yell at the door like making more noise would save her from her mistakes.

“You left your crystal on the couch.” She murmured softly instead.

A pause. More rustling of papers, and when Riz opened the door he was holding his glasses in one hand and what looked like a map in the other, eyes dark. She held the crystal out.

He took it gingerly, and the numbness faded by just a little bit when his eyes got a little brighter, flicking over the crystal screen. He didn’t smile, but his face lost a little bit of tension.

He bit his lip and looked at her. “… I’m sorry I hissed at you. I didn’t mean to.”

She tried to smile, but wasn’t sure she succeeded. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain, sweetie. I’m all ears.”

He glanced at his crystal again, something changing in his posture. For a moment she was afraid he would close the door again, and even though she wanted nothing more in the world than to demand answers, she would let him.

“I don’t think I want to talk about it anymore tonight.” He said slowly, cautiously.

Sklonda nodded, thinking desperately about asking Sandra-Lynn out for drinks tomorrow.

“I just…” Riz looked down at the map in his hand, the words Ashgrove Cemetery scrawled in his handwriting at the top. “We’ve all worked so hard, Fig and Kristin and everyone, and-”

He swallowed. “I was gonna find the rouge teacher, mom. And now it doesn't matter.”

She could think of a million things to say, but all that came out of her mouth was, “Gukgaks don't give up.”

Her brave, smart, resilient, beautiful son’s eyes filled with tears, and he shut the door to his bedroom.

Stumbling back to the living room, Sklonda clumsily grabbed her crystal from the coffee table and sent a text, claws clicking against the screen.

10:13 pm

Jawbone, Riz just got home. What is The Last Stand?

The rumbling of the motorcycle faded from earshot. A few minutes later, her crystal lit up.

That oh so familiar heaviness of exhaustion and fear, the stress that lived in the bottom of her coffee cups, in the papers spilling out of Riz’s backpack hit her like a truck as she read Jawbone's response.

The lights flickered, and in the flash of darkness she saw a vision of her son, slumped over a desk, a paper in front of him with a dark red A+ written in goblin blood.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #the bad kids #sklonda gukgak #riz gukgak #the last stand #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #how does tumblr work

57 notes · View notes

beautifulpersonpeach · 11 months ago

Note

I’ve been reading your blog for the better part of the year and it’s helped me rethink many things. This year was weird for me and I’ve been reflecting, I finally got courage to write this confession and I only feel comfortable sending it here. It’s okay if you post it. I think there are other people like me.

My Confession:

I’m an Orbit-Blink shooter who used to fight with an Army shooter daily until she died during the earthquakes in Turkey this year. I didn’t realize how much of my life and fan experience was tied to her until she died BPP. The way I got into shooting was through my Blink friend who introduced me to Loona when they debuted. At first I thought I was defending Loona and then defending Blackpink, but at some point shooting on its own for any reason became addicting. I would jump in on a ratio, throw insults and post gore and graphic images to people’s DMs for any small reason.

There was one Army shooter I hated because she was always there with screenshots or videos to drag Blackpink. Whenever there was a fanwar I knew I would see her there. And times when she wasn’t in the fight, I would use another account pretending to be an Army to tell her what was happening so I could rile her up to join the fight. I didn’t know it at the time but I loved fighting with her. She made me feel alive. The way she was passionate about BTS made me want to get some of that passion directed at me in any form.

Now, after months of reflecting, that’s what I realized. Because when the earthquake happened, I didn’t know she was dead. I kept checking her account for days, sending DMs from my fake Army profile, wondering why she was not replying. I even created a new scandal for Taehyung in our shooter group but she didn’t tweet. Then 2 weeks later her cousin tweeted from her account to say she died in the earthquake. BPP, it was like my whole life stopped. I became extremely depressed and dealt with extreme self loathing. I couldn’t look at any fandom fight without thinking about all the things I did to her. I hated myself and wanted to die. I went through that Armys profile and saw how her love for BTS was genuine. After months of therapy now I understand more why I acted like that, but it’s something I’ll forever be ashamed about.

In the depths of my depression I deleted Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram. After some weeks of missing what’s happening, I got Tumblr and found your blog talking about fandom behavior. In so many ways you’ve saved my life BPP. The way I was shooting was more for other shooters than Loona or Blackpink or even myself. I realize now there’s a whole subculture of kpop shooters and I think what they have is an addiction. I notice the same things with how solo stans behave. They think they’re doing it for the idols but it’s for them and other stans they’re fighting. It creates destruction. Life is short. Why spend it on something destructive?

I’ve changed everything about how I behave online. Through therapy and reading your blog, I realize people use fandom to express themselves, and if that expression is mostly negative, there’s deeper problems with that person that needs solving. Now I curate my space and avoid shooters and fanwars completely. I now focus on what I enjoy which is good lore and good music (I still enjoy a good fight but I now satisfy this need by getting engaged in Munk Debates in my city). Loona’s lore was the reason I was interested in them, so after weeks of stalking that dead Army’s profile, I learned that BTS has lore too. I fell down the BTS rabbit hole and officially became an Army on Jimin’s birthday (after reading your blog I’m now Yoonminkook biased hehe)

I’m a very new Army but an ‘old’ kpop fan and reformed shooter. I’ve committed to live a life that’s critical and compassionate. Because of how I’ve become Army, some things I’m seeing in how fans of diff fandoms act has a different meaning to me. I still struggle with shame and sometimes when I see fanwars or see solos trending hashtags and things, I remember me from what feels like long ago. I remember that Army shooter who feels like someone I owe my life to. I remember how so much is going on in the world and we could do with more kindness but people use fandom to be awful assholes. I was one such person, attimes I still have to bite my tongue. But what I do now is log off, go do something physical and positive that makes me tired, or scroll through your blog archives.

There might be people like me trying to get away from the shooter mindset and struggling because it’s hard. It’s like an addiction. I want those people to know it’s doable. Recognizing the problem is the hardest part for real so if they are at that point, it gets easier from there.

Thank you for having this blog BPP. I hope you stay here in 2024 as well.

***

Happy to hear you’re in a better head space than earlier this year.

Take care of yourself. Really.

#bts #kpop #kpop fandom #fandom behaviour #BTS army #BTS fandom #bts solo stans #fandom shooters

74 notes · View notes

moseslikellamas · 4 months ago

Text

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.3

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - Shanda has made her preparations as good as can be, now she ventures back out into the ceaseless storm to find and bait the Blackwood heir into a trap.

Warnings - fem!reader, suspense, mentions of violence, adult language, liberties taken with weapon mechanics.

Word count - 2.5k

I’ve returned briefly!! Unfortunately even on this day of independence, I have work agony. So enjoy this wild cliffhanger. Ive altered a map of the riverlands taken from https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Red_Fork just to give an idea of where the conflict is taking place. I took the book descriptions into account when placing the castles. The green area outlined is the borderlands. I also didn’t have time to edit sry.

Martyn stood in front of Shanda, frowning. “I don’t think it’s a good plan.” He said finally.

“Duh, Martyn. We don’t have time for a good plan.” She rolled her eyes.

But her brother held firm. “Sorry, I meant it’s not even a passable plan.”

She pitched herself back on her bed groaning. They’d been at it for hours and every plan seemed flawed.

“You can’t let him get his hands on you again.” Martyns' gaze was hard. “I mean it, Shan. They don’t call him bloody ben for nothing.” The latest reports on the heir of Raventree insisted he could crush a man's head with his hands like a melon.

Shanda got up and began to pace, feeling like the frantic wind beating against her window. It was desperate to get in, and her to get out.

“I told you, I didn��t know it was him. And how could I? Once I realized who he was, I exclusively used evasive maneuvers. He caught me by surprise, that won’t happen again. Trust me.”

No one was more bitter about being caught than she was. Even if he had been a random guard, it was an insult that he’d ever gotten close enough to touch her. Shanda prided herself on her ability to slip through life mostly unseen. She put on the show well enough when required but she lived in the moments between walls. With the rush of her heart heavy in her head while she garnered the most precious resource, secrets. It was the only thing she had a real and true patience for. She could lie in wait for days unaffected, ready at a moment's notice. That is, given its worth her time. Plenty of people knew a profusion of particulars, the problem came in deciding which particulars mattered. Currently, and for so many years it's hard to keep count honestly, it’s been Blackwood information. Nasty business is secret dealing though unfortunately and she would always prefer hearing it firsthand.

“Take the bow, set up a snare in the copse, and for the love of the seven don’t let him sneak up on you.”

Martyn had taken up residence on her bed, lounging without a care as he prepared her to sneak into “neutral” territory.

According to the latest edict passed down from Riverrun, a league was to separate the two lands. The borderlands was more or less two and a half leagues. Because of this there was still continued, heated debate over the real border of the two lands. The copse was smack in the middle of the two opposing sides. It was as truly neutral as it could between the two houses. And considering she’d just rolled around in a mud fight last night, it wasn’t exactly being recognized as such.

“You’re quick enough to evade him but you suck at hunting.” Now laying upside down, Martyn was fiddling with the tassel attached to the bed hanging. “I don’t know the borderlands like you, so I can’t think up a misdirection for you but that’s your best shot at snaring him.”

The current plan included some iteration of her being seen, a subsequent chase and ideally, a Blackwood trussed up. They didn’t have a good backup plan though so in the event that failed she’d book it home or find a good hiding spot to wait it out. And there were so many ways it could go wrong. Martyn had bribed another guard to switch shifts with him, in case she got stuck out longer than expected. The mainest objective of tonight was to find and bring the dagger she’d borrowed home or else the armory was going to start asking question they couldn’t answer. Not truthfully or without a raging argument anyway.

“Use your anonymity to your advantage, sow dissent around the other houses. They’ll be fine combing everyone in the riverlands.”

Shanda wasn’t listening to her brothers well meant advice anymore though. She’d reached the stage of anticipation where her brain was moving too quickly for conversation. She was too busy mapping out the planned course of action. She didn’t want to get anywhere near the guards, but with the bow she wouldn’t have to.

“I’ve got to go. I’ll be late as it is. Remember if you get stuck out there, the story is -“

“I went to the Redfork before dawn, I passed you and said something about the mourning ceremony. Everyone will be uncomfortable enough to leave it at that. I remember.”

The river cut through the borderlands but it was finicky. Sometimes high enough to require a bridge passing but that meant locating a bridge. That was too time consuming, Shanda planned to take a pole to vault over it instead. She couldn’t even remember passing the river on her flight home last night, she must’ve taken the bridge though as it was pouring rain. The sky had yet to let up in its continued assault. Though it wasn’t as suffocating as it had been, it was constant. For hours it had been consistently falling, a relentless pattering that seemed to morph into a dull droning inside her head. It was a quiet roar eroding what was left of her sanity.

Shanda strapped the bow to her back and pulled her hood up. This time she’d taken pains to cover herself more effectively. Her hair was bound up and hidden, covered by a piece of black fabric pinned in place. She wanted to cover her face as well but with the rain that was an impossibility. She had settled instead on smearing her face with a handful of mud. It would help hide her features if nothing else. She elected to wear the ruined cloak. Having hastily sewn the slash back up, it sat a bit awkwardly with the missing fabric but she knew it would be soaked and clinging to her soon anyway. Tied around her waist was the rope she needed to set the snare, it was thin and she had heaps of it. She wouldn’t run out of materials tonight.

Gazing around her room she only just now realized Martyn had departed. She crossed to the window and gazed out at the sky, black clouds continued to roll in obscuring any moonlight. She turned her attention to the guard tower, where a glint of steel signaled she was clear to leave. Crossing her room quickly, she slipped out the door and down the hall. The only sound was the distant rush of rain and the crackle of torch flames as she snuck down the stairs, past the main hall guards and into the kitchens. A sack of fat trimmings sat on the floor waiting for her and she scooped it up before storing it in her bag. The riverlands were always full of wolves. Day or night, rain or shine, the riverlands had a wolf problem. And Shanda hoped to use that to her advantage if everything went to shit. What better way to throw off the all mighty warrior than have a wolf attack him?

Once outside she didn’t breathe until she was safely outside of the keep walls and in the tall grass again. She stopped and ripped up several wild onions, and stuffed them inside her bag to hopefully hide the smell of meat until she wanted it to be smelled. She was already soaked when the first strike of lightning hit. It was close enough she could smell it and feel the heat of it on her skin. Unphased she began smearing her face in mud, covering both hands as well. Then she got to work.

The walk this time was spent carefully surveying the land around her. Hiding up a tree or in a fox den was out of the question. She couldn’t risk anywhere that might trap her, instead she considered the way the land moved. Which areas had slopes or holes. Where the mud was softest and which weeds were tangled together. This portion of the borderlands would be her last stand and before she continued on, she set what would be the last trap of the night. If they chased her this far it meant things had gone astronomically wrong. She pulled the heavy claw trap out and carefully pulled the metal sides apart before setting it in the shallow hollow. Then she spent a while weaving strands of grass together to conceal the trap. It would snap an ankle pretty cleanly with the spikes sawed down.

Crouched in the grass she made a mental note of where she placed the trap and sent a prayer to the warrior that she didn’t fall into it herself. Then she set off towards the small collection of trees on her side of the Redfork. The first snare she set was at the opening of the trees. This was the weakest point in her mind. The odds that she remembered exactly where to exit were slim to none. But it didn’t hurt to have something near the boundary between grass and trees. From there she spent more than an hour setting various snares around her side of the river before crossing and placing just a few on the other side. If this dispute became known she didn’t want to give the Blackwoods much ammo to accuse them of starting it. She could justify a few snares. Since technically this was neutral land, there was no reason she couldn’t place as many as she liked.

At last came the part she’d been waiting for. She walked slowly through the last of the trees. Crouched low and silent, she pulled the bow off of her back and notched an arrow. She crept forward for a while, keeping only to the right. She wanted to confront the heir something terrible but it was most important she not return to the same post twice. If she visited more than four posts without seeing him, she’d hang it up and try again later. But she didn’t think that would be an issue. If he’d been telling the truth last night, they were already looking for her right now. It shouldn’t have but it made her feel light and giddy to imagine a score of idiot Blackwood guards confused and aggravated, searching for her. She shook the jitters out of her hands and took a deep breath, pulling the bow taunt as she approached the first post of the night.

Still concealed within the trees she couldn’t hear the guards' conversation over the pounding rain. The wind was low and not doing anything for her now. She could see three of them, posted under a hastily erected canopy that was doing little to keep them dry. She scanned their faces briefly, making sure to keep an eye on her surroundings while she did. She wasn’t likely to be the only one making plans to obtain information. She pushed down her rising excitement once she confirmed Benjicot was not among these guards. Releasing the tension on her bow she walked on.

It wasn’t until the very last post she checked that she found him. Of course, she thought ruefully. They would want her as far out as they could conceivably believe to lure her. It didn’t matter to her, she could play along. And she knew they were playing once she spotted him. The fourth post was a crumbling ruin which immediately made her wary. A physical structure provided cover and ample opportunity to hide resources. It made the post more unpredictable and easy to defend. She didn’t want him to defend, she wanted him to run.

As she worked her eyes up the crumbling ruin her sense of forbidding rose, bow pulled taunt she aimed up and up scouting for guards. There were none until she reached the top of a half broken stone wall and found the Blackwood heir staring right at her.

“Shit.”

It all happened very quickly then, she loosened the first arrow, striking just beside him and he jumped off of the stone wall. It shocked her so much she nearly slipped in the mud as she began to run backwards, sending several more arrows at him. The wall had been several feet high and he hadn’t even paused when he touched the ground.

“Holy Mother. Agh.” She muttered under her breath watching him rapidly approach her position.

He was fast. Much faster than she was anticipating and he’d been waiting for her the asshole. She slung the bow back over her shoulder and took off in a dead sprint. There were no taunts thrown this time, just the sound of her sure breath as she vaulted over turned logs and gnarled roots. She was mid way over a recently down tree when he tackled her from behind. He was moving so quickly when he hit her that they both soared over the tree, tumbling to the ground together.

The struggle on the ground was aggressive, as they wrestled sliding in the forest undergrowth. She was lucky he hadn’t landed on top of her and she was able to slide her legs out from under him before he could make a grab for her. She quickly stood using her hands and knees but a hand wrapped around her ankle jerking her down. Clawing forward she kicked her free foot back at him striking his shoulder before he locked that leg down as well. Grunting she twisted around and socked him in the eye as hard as she could. His hold was tenuous in the rain but loosened further when a laugh burst out of him at the punch.

She was up and running in an instant. She felt like a blur as she led him up to the river. She vaulted over it without even trying to trigger a trap on his side. He was fucking quick and she didn’t want to give me an opportunity to down her again. Having the pole gave her the head start advantage she needed to get in position. When she saw him come barreling through the trees it didn’t take her long to lead him into the first snare. The rope pulled taut around his foot, sending him sprawling as it snapped.

She would’ve groaned at the sight if she weren’t panting hard, sliding through the mud working to find the next trap. The problem with running in the dark in a torrential downpour is it's incredibly difficult to see, and in that it becomes impossible to identify where you’ve been. So when the next snare triggered and she tripped it was a hard fall. She knew how to undo the snares and had just gotten it off as Benjicot slammed into her.

“Son of a - ah!”

This time he’d yanked the bow off of her back immediately slamming her head onto the ground, water and mud rushing up to choke her. Before yanking her arms back behind her, shoulders drawn back from the force, while his knees pinned the back of her legs down. The cold metal of her own knife pressed against her neck, with rain running in rivulets down it into her cloak.

“Caught you.”

44 notes · View notes