#oh. my god I’ve said the dynamic ever before but THIS

[the-nameless-wacky-inventor]

just listened to partners in crime by madilyn mei and idk if I can convey how obsessed I am

[rennalaqotfm]

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (PART IV)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Sexual content (but MDNI 18+ just to be safe), dry humping (-ish?), violence, alcohol consumption, toxic dynamics, swearing, themes of prejudice and misogynism, and a lot of 'fucking politicking,' as King Viserys said, (not proofread).

WC: 5.6k

Series Masterlist

(A/N and taglist at the end of the chapter)

As the winds guided Ser Tyland's ship to the Free Cities, the excitement regarding the wedding of the future Princess of Dorne and the Crown Prince buzzed in the air. No ravens had to be sent, for the whispers began within the palace walls, spread through the bustling streets of Sunspear, and were carried by the desert winds across the dunes, reaching the furthest Dornish houses.

Princess Y/n sat before her mirror, watching her handmaiden, Melynda, fasten the back of her dress. A sweet girl of one-and-twenty, Melynda had been brought from Pentos on a cramped boat, a former slave traded by her master for coin. Ever since she had served the Princess with quiet devotion, her nimble fingers always making a masterpiece out of her.

Despite being draped in the finest fabrics of deep sapphire, adorned with intricate golden swirls and beads of amber, Y/n stared blankly at her reflection. The celebrations leading to the wedding were set to last a fortnight, a long stretch filled with feasts, ceremonies, and endless politicking. In mere hours, she would be facing the guests, forced to smile and charm as she and the Velaryon boy persuaded them to align with Rhaenyra's cause. She didn't even know where to begin looking for the strength and willpower she had to gather to convince those lords to join a war she herself didn't fully believe in.

“Is it too tight, Princess?” Melynda asked meekly, noting how Y/n had remained quiet the whole time she had been preparing her. "Princess?"

Suddenly, Y/n's bottom lip began to quiver as she felt a knot forming in her throat. 

“Gods be damned…” she muttered, feeling her tears pooling in her eyes. “How did it all come to this?” 

“If it's too tight, mayhaps I could—”

“Of course, it’s bloody tight! It’s damn near crushing my guts!” the Princess burst out, causing her handmaiden to stumble backward, her hands trembling. “I apologise, Melynda,” she sniffed, feeling the guilt pool in her chest. It wasn’t the first time she had taken her anger and frustration out on the younger girl. Of all the people in the palace, she was the least deserving of such crude treatment. “It’s just—”

“I understand, Princess,” Melynda smiled sadly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Y/n held her hand softly, holding back her cries. “To be betrothed to someone who you don't truly love must be a punishment for the soul.”

“I’ve been trying to avoid this all these years. Gods forbid a woman who wants to live a life free from all this nonsense," she muttered bitterly.

“You are to be the Princess of Dorne. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“But not with a Targaryen… someone who sees us as nothing more than goatfuckers.”

“Once you get to acquainted with one another, I’m certain he’ll see past the veil of prejudice that blinds the rest of Westeros.”

“Oh, we’re well past the point of acquaintances, and I’m certain we’ve both made it clear that we’d rather kill each other than push forward with this betrothal.”

“And yet, you've hardly spent a moment alone together, away from prying eyes. Forgive me if I'm wrong, my Princess, but this hostility you feel towards one another... it feels more like the weight of your houses than your own. He’s not truly wronged you, nor have you wronged him... well, apart from the few wounds you’ve exchanged.”

“I wish it were as simple as you say, but the hatred between our houses runs deeper than that trial. We’re talking about years of bloodshed, of lives torn apart by their desire to conquer what was never theirs. How can we ever forget that? If anything, those Targaryens are only reaping what they've sown.”

“I understand, Princess, but is it truly fair to place the sins of the forefathers upon their children? Yes, the Targaryens once sought to conquer Dorne, but they failed. And since then, they’ve left us to rule our lands. Why should Prince Jacaerys suffer for the wrongdoings of his ancestors when he himself hasn't harmed you?”

“You speak the truth, Melynda. But do you truly think the rest of the Dorne will see it that way?” She stared at her handmaiden's reflection. “The pain the Targaryens have caused... it’s not just written in our histories, it’s engraved into the souls of our people.”

“I’m not saying that your betrothal to Prince Jacaerys will reconcile your houses overnight, Princess. In fact, it may take generations to heal these wounds. However, if Queen Rhaenyra proves to be the rightful and just ruler she claims to be, and honours your demands... and you and Prince Jacaerys unite the Seven Kingdoms as promised, then mayhaps it could be the beginning of something.” 

Suddenly, both women were startled by a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Y/n cleared her throat.

“My Princess,” Ser Domeric's said from the other side. “The guests have begun to arrive, and your presence is expected shortly.”

Princess Y/n quickly composed herself, ensuring that any trace of sorrow had vanished from her face, and replaced her semblance with a mask of indifference.

The late afternoon breeze crept through the palace windows, stirring the heavy air in the Hall but doing little to lift the mood. Spirits were low and the lingering music was drowned out by the quiet murmurs of the guests. Lords and ladies from House Yronwood to House Qorgyle had traversed across the arid deserts to Sunspear, not out of enthusiasm, but out of duty, their gazes shifting warily as they gathered to pay tribute to the Princess. Even Y/n herself, appeared as though she wished to be anywhere else.

At the high table, the Martells sat alongside the Targaryens, not able to look one another eye to eye. They faced the great houses, whose semblance didn’t hide their disdain for the dragonriders. They showed no efforts for forced pleasantries, bracing themselves for the next chapter of conflict rather than celebrating a wedding that would unite the Seven Kingdoms.

Before anything, Prince Qoren stood up, ready to speak before his people.

“It is truly an honour to welcome you all this evening, and I thank each and every one of you for making the long journey to Sunspear. Tonight, we gather not only to celebrate the betrothal of my beloved daughter, Princess Y/n Martell, to the Crown Prince Jacaerys Velaryon... but also, the union between House Martell and House Targaryen,” he spoke, the enthusiasm fading in his voice. 

The crowd fell into an immediate hush, the lords and ladies exchanging uncertain glances, some full of resentment, and some full of disgust. Y/n felt each pressing gaze suffocating her and tried to hide her discomfort behind the rim of her cup, already expecting those pessimistic reactions. After all, who in their right mind would willingly wed a Targaryen?

“Out of all of the suitors that have lost their lives willing to serve you and our realm, you chose to spare the one whose ancestors sought to conquer our lands?” Lady Liara from House Briar’s voice trembled, barely able to hold back her anger. “Could you not have shown mercy to my sweet boy Eldritch instead?”

The Princess had always been taught to hold back in such moments, especially in front of such a large audience, but before she could stop herself, the words were already spilling out of her mouth.

“My Lady,” Y/n began, trying to push down the feeling of irritation rising up her chest. “Remind me… who sent your son, alone, to seek my hand? As far as I know, someone that young shouldn’t be burdened with ‘providing me a strong heir’ or ‘making Dorne more prosperous than it already is.’ Those aren’t words a boy of three-and-ten should be speaking.” 

Lady Liara sank back to her seat with a scowl. The Princess’ gaze swept across the Hall, their faces etched with grief and bitterness, never forgetting the lives lost in pursuit of her hand. 

Whilst the guests sat in silence, waiting for either Prince Qoren or Princess Y/n to justify such a decision, Rhaenyra seized the moment to capture the crowd’s attention. She cleared her throat and rose slowly, her lilac eyes lingering on each guest, meeting the same eyes that had carried pent-up hatred for generations.

“By coming here, we are not denying the sins of House Targaryen,” she paused, allowing her words to settle, her gaze never leaving the crowd.  “I understand that to many of you, we are still the enemy. I am aware of the blood that was spilled and the pain that has lingered for generations. But the true enemies now are the Greens, who have usurped the Throne and seek to bring all of Westeros to its knees. And I know Dorne will not bend without a fight. Join us, and we will stand together. We can prevent the war that the Greens will bring to your lands.”

Despite Rhaenyra's words, the guests still mumbled with one another and her plea fell on indifferent ears. She clasped her hands together, holding her composure.

“So, the Greens are the enemies now, eh?" A voice echoing across the hall finally broke through the whispers. “To them, you are the usurper. And as far as we are concerned, they have yet to come to our lands to pester us with this petty war of yours.”

“Do not mistake their silence for mercy, my Lord. When they come, they will not ask. They will take. And by then, it may be too late to decide where your loyalties lie,” Daemon retorted.

“They have left us with no other choice,” Lord Lysander Dayne scowled. “Is this why you brought these beasts? So they can burn us if we refuse to join?”

Upon the mere mention of the dragons, the fear of the crowd became palpable. Prince Qoren’s face was flushed with anger, seeing that the celebration had somehow turned into a council meeting.

“Enough of this nonsense!” Prince Qoren bellowed, rising to his feet and jabbing his fist to the table. "We are here to celebrate the upcoming wedding of my daughter, not to squabble over this bloody war! If I hear more of it tonight, I’ll throw you in a pit of scorpions myself," his voice cut through the crowd, making the lords shrink back into their seats as he glared at Rhaenyra.

The music, which had momentarily ceased, began to play again. Princess Y/n exhaled deeply, gripping her cup as she swirled the crimson liquid. If she was going to endure the remainder of this night and persuade those thick-skulled lords to support Rhaenyra, she would need wine. A lot of it. She downed the first cup, the sweet taste lingering on her palate as her gaze shifted across the room, spotting the lords she had to sway.

Lord Lysander of House Dayne sat with his lady wife, his stern face etched with displeasure. He had made it clear where he stood, opposing any involvement in the war. Yet, he was infamously known for his ambition; he was the sort of man who would bend the knee for the right price, advancing his own house in exchange for his formidable army. Then there was Lord Thaddeus of House Yronwood, head of the second-most powerful house in Dorne, capable of providing enough supplies to sustain the armies at sea; a practical man, loyal to tradition, but always open to negotiation. On the other side of the Hall, she spotted Lord Ander of House Jordayne, who owned the largest fleet in Dorne.

Ser Domeric, being part of House Uller and their loyal informant, would provide whatever support was asked. And lastly, House Santagar, though not enthusiastic, had always been fiercely loyal to the Martells and would stand by their house regardless.

Despite the collective disappointment lingering in the air, as the feast came to an end, the guests stood up to salvage what remained of the evening. Jacaerys’ eyes followed Y/n as she rose from her seat, weaving through the multitude and making her way to Lord Lysander. The man bowed his head and extended his hand, offering the Princess a dance which she accepted with a smile that seemed far too charming than she would normally allow herself to be. Jacaerys couldn’t tear his gaze from Y/n, watching how she leaned towards Lord Lysander, her lips closely brushing his ear, as he nodded eagerly so as not to disappoint her.

“A celebration of our upcoming betrothal?” Jacaerys scoffed, already feeling his blood boil at the sight of the Princess with another man. Had they been at the Red Keep, the whispers would have already circled around, rumours of the Princess enjoying the company of other men, even while bound by a betrothal to him, that would call into question not only her honour but the legitimacy of their future children. He could already hear the council’s scandalous whispers behind closed doors–whispers that had been haunting him all his life.

“She’s quite gifted, isn’t she, my dear sister?” Elyas remarked, turning to Jacaerys. “She has a way of making men dance in the palm of her hand.”

“Only if one is foolish enough to fall for whatever games she is playing,” Jacaerys muttered.

Jacaerys and Elyas watched how Lord Lysander placed a kiss on top of her hand. With one final whisper, she slipped away from his arms and disappeared into the crowd, only to be seen again; that time with Lord Ander, who offered the Princess his hand without hesitation. 

“There are a couple of things you should know about her,” Elyas said with a sneer, glancing at the Princess. “One of them is… you’ll never be her only one.”

“You need not tell me what I can already see. It seems your sister is not familiar with the notion of faithfulness.”

“Faithfulness? As far as I’m aware, neither of you are bound by vows just yet,”  Elyas grinned, noting how Jacaerys clearly wasn’t enjoying the conversation. "But listen, this celebration isn’t meant for you to sulk in a corner, watching my sister dance with every lord in Dorne. It's for indulging. There’s a place not too far from the palace, where we know how to truly celebrate. Who knows? You might not even survive this war you’re throwing yourself into. You may as well enjoy the finest pleasures our land has to offer before it’s too late," Jacaerys’s knuckles whitened around his cup, his repulsion palpable, but Elyas only leaned in closer. 

As much as Jacaerys despised watching Princess Y/n flit from lord to lord, he wasn’t about to lower himself to her games. What was she trying to prove? Was she testing him, daring him to show any signs of jealousy or anger? Or mayhaps she was simply making it clear, once again, how much she misliked him?

Jacaerys refused to give Elyas the satisfaction of a response and merely shook his head. Elyas smirked, amused by Jacaerys' restraint, and stood up, ensuring he ruined the evening even more before leaving.

“Oh, and just so you know… whatever illusions you have about loyalty and honour, you'd best cast them aside. If you think my sister will suddenly change her ways after this betrothal of yours, then you’re completely wrong. I’m telling you now, she won’t. She’s as Dornish as they come… untamable and always chasing trouble. The more you tighten the leash, the more she’ll struggle to break free. And she’ll keep playing her games, whether you like them or not... so you better learn how to play them if you don't wish to end up as another one of her playthings,” Elyas said, slapping Jacaerys’ shoulder playfully before walking away.

Jacaerys hadn’t even realised how tightly he was clenching his jaw until the sound of Elyas and his sworn protector’s fading footsteps pulled him back to reality. He let out a breath, trying to shake off the bitterness away, and downed a gulp of wine.

But what he hadn’t noticed was a pair of dark wide eyes watching him from the other end of the table. It was Farien, whose gaze had been flickering between him and Elyas the whole time. When Jacaerys caught the boy's gaze, his expression softened. He set down his cup, watching how the little boy stood up and made his way over to him.

“If you marry my sister, does that mean you’ll become my brother?” Farien asked. 

“I suppose,” he forced a smile, though he wasn’t sure if the little boy was particularly glad about that.

Farien climbed on to the empty seat beside Jacaerys, glancing around the nearly deserted table and making sure none of his family members were nearby. All of the Martells were tending their own business, leaving the Targaryens seated in silence. The boy leaned in close, cupping his small hands around Jacaerys’s ear, scared that someone might hear what he had to say.

“So, does that mean I get to ride your dragon?” He whispered. 

Jacaerys looked at him, his eyes widening in surprise. 

“If your father allows you, then I suppose you could… but are you not afraid?” He asked.

“I’m really, really scared. But I wonder what it must feel like to see the world from up above. The closest I’ve ever gotten to flying is in my dreams, you know? It feels like I’m one of Father’s falcons, soaring high in the skies. Father says I have the gift to turn into one of them at night and watch over the desert,” he glanced up, his eyes gleaming in wonder.

Jacaerys looked at the boy and allowed himself to smile, as Farien somehow reminded him of his younger brother, Joffrey, whom he hadn't seen in a long time.

“Anyway,” Farien continued, “I think we could be brothers, you and I. We even look alike, see?” He pointed at Jacaerys’ curls. “It would be nice to have another brother... because, well, Elyas... he’s nice, sometimes. But not always.”

Jacaerys held back a scoff, figuring as much. 

“And what about your sister?” 

“We like sneaking sweets from the kitchens and feeding them to the horses,” Farien’s eyes suddenly lit up. “And she loves fighting, too. But not the angry, shouting kind, no. She says that sometimes, fighting feels like dancing, and that’s why she enjoys it. She’s really good at it. And I think you are too. But my sister is better.”

Just as he was about to ask Farien what other things his sister enjoyed, one of the little boy’s servants approached them. 

“My Prince, your father has sent me to take you back to your chambers to rest,” she smiled at the little boy, who had no choice but to accept dejectedly.

As the servant took him in her arms, Farien waved at Jacaerys with a small smile. He nodded at the little boy, unable to stop himself from smiling back.

“At least the little one is not as irritating as the rest of his family,” Rhaenyra said as her gaze softened, noticing how the little boy never tore his eyes from them as he got further and further.

“Give him a couple of years. He will turn out exactly like his older brother,” Daemon muttered. 

Then, Jacaerys' gaze trailed back to the Princess once again, who was still locked in a dance with Lord Ander. The exchange of whispers seemed to grow more intense, as his lips lingered on the shell of her ear, making her nod as her smile never left her lips.

“Jacaerys,” Daemon’s sharp voice cut through his thoughts. “Do you not have a duty to fulfil?”

“I have been fulfilling them since the moment we arrived,” he muttered, his voice laced with irritation. As Jacaerys had been doing everything he could to uphold his duties, Daemon merely sat back, watching the spectacle he had set in motion unravel before him. 

“You have, but sitting and watching the Princess be courted by every lord in Dorne is not one of them. Listen to me, these men are doing everything in their power to pull her away from our alliance since they can see she does not favour you,” he paused leaning in closer. “You are no stranger to this. If you two are to rule the Seven Kingdoms, she needs to be seen by your side.”

Jacaerys rose from his seat as he exhaled, growing frustrated by the second. It was all in the name of duty, after all. He headed towards the Princess with steady steps, disappearing into the crowd and dodging every drunken lord and lady that stood in his way. Lord Ander, who seemed to have more intentions than just dancing with the Princess, held her close, too close, his hands lingering on her waist. 

“My Lord,” Jacaerys cleared his throat, barely containing himself. Lord Ander snapped his head towards his direction. “I would hate to interrupt your conversation, but the hour is quite late, and Princess Y/n needs to rest.”

“Is that so?” He pulled Y/n even closer to him, making Jacaerys’ blood boil. “How come the Princess seems to be enjoying herself?”

Jacaerys’ eyes flicked to the cup in her hand, the liquid threatening to spill from the rim. He wasn’t a stranger to that dazed look and that loose smirk playing on her lips. 

“The Princess seems to have indulged in one too many cups. You may continue whatever… conversation you were having on the morrow, my Lord,” Jacaerys forced his words through his teeth. 

“Is that an order from the Crown Prince? Or from a boy who is still learning how to hold a woman’s interest?” Lord Ander raised a brow, sliding his hand even lower on her waist. 

The Princess’ gaze flicked between the two men, unaware of the escalating tension. She took another sip from her cup, her eyes landing on Jacaerys, finally acknowledging how dashing he looked in a Dornish ensemble of deep blues and golds.

“Gods, spare me,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “You two sound like you’re ready to start another war.”

“If it means winning your favour, Princess,” Lord Ander said with a grin.

“Mayhaps that's a battle for another day. Besides, the Prince is right, the hour is quite late,” she said softly, growing tired at the show of bravado between the two men. She moved away from Lord Ander and took a step towards Jacaerys.

Jacerys, whose heart was pounding with both anger and relief, offered her his arm. Y/n would’ve hesitated at first, but under the effects of wine, any qualms were long gone. She noted how he tensed his arm uncomfortably, unaware that she was putting pressure on the wound she had given him not too long ago. 

Casymir leaned against one of the pillars with a hint of amusement on his face, watching the whole scene unfold before his eyes. Once Jacaerys and Y/n were away from the crowd, he finally pushed himself off the pillar, approaching Jacaerys, who was struggling to keep her in place.

“Allow me, my Prince. The Princess is in good hands with me,” he said, extending his arm. 

Jacaerys glared at Casymir as he adjusted her weight in his arm, wondering what he was smiling for.

“You are the Princess’ sworn protector, are you not?” He raised his brow. 

“Yes, my Prince,” he smiled proudly.

“Yet all you did was stand and watch how the Princess wandered into the clutches of men with less than noble intentions,” Jacaerys tried to keep his composure, though his anger simmered beneath the surface.

“Do you question my service to the Princess, my Prince?” He chuckled, brushing the Prince’s concerns aside. “The Princess was in no immediate danger. And as far as I’m aware, a dance with a lord hardly constitutes a threat.”

“If you think a man whose ulterior motives are clearly written in his face not to be dangerous, then mayhaps we have very different understandings of the word danger,” Jacaerys said. 

“You greatly misunderstand the Princess. Lord Ander was eager, but he knew better than to cross the line. And besides, she would’ve ended his attempts long before you stepped in. As you might have already… experienced, the Princess knows how to handle herself and hardly needs to be coddled,” his blue eyes trailed at the way their arms were intertwined. “Though, it seems she doesn’t mind letting you try.”

“So, what are you here for, then? Just for decoration?”  

“Is picking fights with other men a favourite pastime of yours, my Prince?” The Princess laughed, poking fun at Jacaerys as she unconsciously tightened her grip around his injured arm. “You do seem to have a talent for making enemies wherever you go.”

Jacaerys hesitated, unsure if replying to the Princess was even worth the efforts given her current state, so he merely scoffed, shaking his head in defeat. However, one thing he couldn’t ignore was the feeling of having her so close as she mindlessly ran her hand up and down the length of his arm. He tried to calm his heart, but he couldn’t keep his composure with each stroke of her fingers that made him lean into her touch ever so slightly.   

Once they reached the Princess’ chambers, Casymir leaned on the door, his arms crossed with an infuriatingly calm expression on his face. 

“If you wish to be escorted back to your chambers, my Prince, I can call for a servant,” Casymir offered, implying that Jacaerys had overstayed his welcome.

“No. I wish to stay. The Princess and I have a few words to exchange,” he said.

“I’ll be fine, Cas,” the Princess slurred, assuring her sworn protector with a slow nod.

“As you wish, my Princess. I'll be just outside, should you require any assistance.”

Jacaerys stood by the door, unsure of what to do now that he was inside the Princess’ chambers. It wasn’t improper of him, as her soon-to-be husband, to be seen there, so he found himself leaning against the wall, trying to regain the composure that he had repeatedly lost throughout the night. His eyes trailed around the intricately carved golden statues that adorned the corners and the colourful tapestries that swayed slightly, catching the faint breeze that slipped through the windows and bringing with it the distant murmurs of the ongoing celebration. 

Only when he heard a soft clink and the steady stream of wine being poured into a cup, he snapped out of his thoughts. Before he could even think, he turned to Y/n, walking towards her and snatching the cup and jug from her hands, causing her mouth to hang open in disbelief and indignation. 

“You will not drink any more tonight,” he ordered, pouring the liquid out of the window and slamming the cup aside.  

“Well, isn’t this absolutely perfect?” She spat, throwing her arms in the air in defeat. “Not only will you take away my freedom, but now you wish to take away one of the few things that bring me joy?”

“You must live a very miserable life, Princess, if wine and men are the few things in life that bring you joy,” Jacaerys burst out, no longer able to contain the pent-up anger that had been brewing all night.

“Oh, believe me, I’ll have a miserable life once I marry you.”

“And what makes you think I want to marry you? That behaviour of yours… is unacceptable,” he wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I do not wish to marry someone who is a slave to their desires.”

“A slave to my desires? Is that what you think of me?” Y/n shouted, unable to control the fury taking over her voice.

“What else am I supposed to think when you go from lord to lord like a marionette whose strings had been cut?” He paused, taking in her dishevelled appearance. “I was not aware how these Dornishmen could name someone so ruthless and so debauched as their Princess.” 

“And I didn’t know you Targaryens go around crowning bastards just to keep your house on the Throne,” she spat, making sure to rest her gaze on his dark eyes and on his brown locks long enough.

“You whore–!”

Before Jacaerys could finish his sentence, Y/n's palm collided with his cheek in a stinging slap, his head snapping to the side. His eyes widened, more in shock than pain, as his hand instinctively rose to the reddening mark on his face.

“A whore? A savage? A goatfucker?” Y/n's voice trembled with fury. “Is that all you see me as?” She shoved him hard, sending him stumbling backward until his back hit the wall. Her finger jabbed into his chest with every word. “You,” she spat, “should be thanking me for getting my hands dirty, persuading those lords to join your petty war!”

Jacaerys was stunned into silence momentarily, feeling every ounce of her rage bleeding through her words.

“And who told you to do that on your own?” Jacaerys shot back. “You could have asked me, we could have gone together and spoken to them like it is expected of us!”

“You overestimate yourself,” she scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him. “Do you even know what those lords think of you? Of your family? If it weren’t for our betrothal, they would have driven a spear through your chests without a second thought. Because to them, you Targaryens are nothing but bloodthirsty murderers who’ve come to take our lands all over again.”

“Enough!” Jacaerys grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her, slamming her against the wall. “You think I do not know that? You think I do not feel it every time I step into a room? The way they look at me? At my family? You think I enjoy being the enemy?” He seethed, feeling his throat grow raw with each word. “Gods, you are infuriating,” he grunted, realising how close their faces were to one another. 

The Princess’ lips curled into a smirk, a flicker of satisfaction lingering in her eyes. She had struck a nerve, realising how Jacaerys was always quick to react to whatever blasphemous speech she had to say about his family, and once again, she had managed to unleash the dormant wrath that blinded his actions. 

As the Princess found herself cornered between his arms and the wall, she crouched low, slipping beneath his arms in a fluid motion and spinning around to pin Jacaerys against the wall, pressing her chest to his back. Jacaerys reacted instinctively, kicking off the wall to shove her back. The sudden force sent her stumbling as she crashed on the ground, and he followed, landing on top of her in a tangle of limbs.

Just as he was about to stand up, Y/n yanked him back down and rolled on top of him, keeping him in place by locking her thighs around his waist and pinning his arms on the floor with one swift movement. Truth be told, Jacaerys could have easily pushed her away as her usual strength was halved by the wine; yet he remained still, feeling the warmth of Y/n’s body pressed into his, and how their faces were inches apart yet again, her breath hot on his skin.

Once again, he found himself under her mercy.

She stared down at him with half-lidded eyes and lips slightly open as she breathed lightly, taking in the sight of Jacaerys’ flushed face and his gaze clouded by desire. Jacerys looked up at her and gulped, feeling his erection stirring uncomfortably beneath his breeches.

His eyes locked onto her plump lips and trailed towards to the hollow of her neck, down to her chest. He stared hungrily as she leaned towards him, his fingertips itching to explore the skin hidden beneath the fabric of her dress. As she got closer and closer to his face, Jacaerys’ breath hitched, and without realising it, his lips parted slightly as his eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. His pulse quickened, waiting for the warmth of her lips pressing against his.

But instead of the kiss he craved, he felt the hot caress of her breath graze the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Her voice, low and smooth, held him captive with each honeyed word.

“If you want to win this little war of yours, you better start by respecting me,” she whispered as she let go of one of his wrists and began tracing delicate patterns with her finger. “Just because I’ve chosen you as my betrothed doesn’t mean I won’t change my mind,” she bucked her hips against his hardened cock, causing Jacaerys to groan at the sudden spark of pleasure coursing in his veins. 

In that very moment, Y/n had uncovered yet another emotion—the primal desire that, despite her infuriating attitude, she had managed to set ablaze. If Jacaerys had to ask himself how it happened, he wouldn’t know where to begin answering. Had it all started when they first met, when she held little regard for him? Was it in the arena, when she brazenly humiliated him in front of everyone? Or was it the fact that they always seemed to find themselves pointing a blade at each other’s throats? Behind all that anger and hatred, and the prejudice that blinded him from seeing the Princess as she truly was, lay a spark of curiosity. Something he knew that once he began to explore, that spark would turn into wildfire.

With each passing second, he fought against the temptation to place his hands on the curve of her hips and make her grind herself against his cock.

“Remember, my Prince,” she purred in his ear, bucking her hips once again. “The wedding has not taken place yet, and anything could happen.” 

A/N: For some reason, i keep beating my wordcount record. istg my fanfic wc is way bigger than all of my uni papers combined, and bare in mind i was a humanities student lmfaooo.

anyway, i feel like this chapter was a mess. jace's patience continuously getting tested by everyone, and our reader making things even harder for him. i actually feel sorry for those two but the way they are handling things is not very demure, mindful or cutesy. we got the exact opposite.

Taglist: @happinessinthebeing @deltamoon666 @dark1paradise @elz-zalarrr @v0dka4a (continued in comments)

[whatthefishh]

house of balloons.

Marc Spector x f!reader

Warnings: unprotected p in v, spit, choking, slight breeding kink, Marc’s sweaty neck, cream pie, Dom/sub dynamic if you squint

Word count: 1.4K

AN: nobody asked for this but I’m giving it to you anyway. Beta’d by my bb @moonknightly ❤️

The way Marc was taking his time with you tonight was getting the best of you.

It wasn’t a particularly healthy relationship but it was what each of you could handle. He’d message you in the late hours of the night and conveniently for you, it would be on the nights you were too restless to sleep, in need of what only he could give you.

You don’t think he loves you. You definitely don’t love him, but you love the way he fills you up, his cock hitting the precise spot inside your hot and needy cunt that neither your fingers nor your toys could reach, the smug face he wore telling you everything you needed to know.

Your hands squeezed his shoulders where they were sweaty and bare, his own hands gripping your ass every time you sank down on his cock on the couch in your living room.

One of his hands moved to grip your jaw, thumb tugging on your bottom lip until you opened your eyes in question only to get caught in the most intense eye contact you’ve ever had with him. Marc continued to watch you as he pulled your pliant mouth open wider, and, while keeping his eyes on yours, leaned forward to fucking spit in your waiting mouth.

And God, you were so easy for him, you swallowed it down without hesitation.

At that you both groaned, and he leaned forward to do it again, kissing you tongue first right after letting it dribble down into your mouth. Suddenly, the pressure in your abdomen skyrocketed, your leaking pussy clamping down on Marc’s thick cock. Your spine seized up, hands reaching to entangle themselves in his hair as you neared your climax, desperate to ground yourself against the wave of pleasure threatening to drown you.

“Marc, ohh—“

“Fuck sweetheart, is that what you want? Huh?” He punctuated his question with a squeeze to your jaw, shaking your head a little.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to squeeze you tighter, choke you a little harder until you passed out. You were getting close to the edge, the wet sounds your pussy made loud in the otherwise silent apartment. You weren’t aware of the noises you were making, completely lost in the feelings Marc was bringing out in you.

“You know, I think about you sometimes. Whether you make noise when it’s just you and your fingers… you’re so loud, honey. How does nobody complain?”

Your thighs burned, for sure to be aching the next day to serve as a reminder of this moment. Pulling his face into your neck from his hair was your attempt at shutting him up, being more aggressive with it than usual but it only served to make him groan with pleasure.

“God, I’ve been thinking about this pussy all day. I think she missed me, too, leaking all over me. Such a mess,” he bit and licked at the junction in your neck. “I’ll clean you up after, don’t worry.”

You squeezed around him tighter at his words while Marc’s hands squeezed your ass on your way down, holding you there for a second before lifting you up and repeating it until he was basically using you like his own personal toy.

“Please,” you managed weakly.

You don’t even know what you’re asking for. Something, anything to free you. You needed the release and he was the only one who could give it to you now. You had a feeling Marc knew this, was using it to his advantage as he continued to grab and pull at your flesh with borderline animosity, channeling all of his feelings from the day and towards you into his large fingers, pressing and pressing and pressing.

“You gotta ask me, baby, c’mon use your words.”

Oh, fuck him.

Pretending to lean closer to whisper in his ear, you switched at the last second to pounce and bite down hard on Marc’s meaty shoulder, not being gentle while gnawing at his golden flesh. A loud groan was heard in your ear, encouraging you to repeat the action on the next space of golden tanned skin available to you. And while his fingers continued pressing bruises into your skin, his thrusts became all of a sudden erratic, pulling you down and grinding you on him, selfishly in search of his own release.

“Inside, inside,” you said breathlessly.

And with one last thrust, his hands still gripping your hips hard enough to hurt a little, he threw his head back. Your cunt fluttered around him as you came on his cock before you felt his warm cum trickling down and around where you were joined.

Marc’s bulging neck and heaving chest enticed you to lean forward again and lick at the sweat beading on his collarbone before he pushed your head away with a hand on your sternum. Sighing and pulling out, you both went quiet watching his spend leak out of you, twitching when he shoved it back inside with two fingers and fucking you with them a couple of times for good measure.

“Mmm.”

Whimpering when he pulled out again, you collapsed on your side against the cushions, focusing on evening out your breathing. Meanwhile, Marc was trying to fight his sudden instinct to stay with you and hold you, curl you up into a ball so that you may fit softly against him the way he dreamed about.

Deciding to cover you with a blanket instead, he quickly got dressed and hovered above you, avoiding eye contact before dropping a soft and lingering kiss on your forehead, only serving to confuse the fuck out of you. He never acted this way after sleeping with you, albeit tonight was a little more … intense, you could say.

You had to admit, it felt nice. Good, even.

Fuck, okay, it felt amazing. And now there was a look in his eye, kind of like he didn’t want to leave, kind of like he wanted to go again, stay the night, whisper sweet nothings to you while you lay in his arms until sunrise. Or maybe you were projecting.

A crease developed between his brows before he swiftly made his way to the door, his walk stiff and jaw set. You were probably projecting. He didn’t want to stay. Why would he? Like you said, you weren’t in love. You were just one of his girls.

“Uhh, yeah, well. See you around.”

Even his tone sounded more awkward than usual. Hovering near the entryway, shuffling, hands twiddling, he looked nothing like the Marc you knew for a moment. His shoulders hunched forward and for a split second his eyes went ridiculously soft.

Unlocking your door and making his way to the elevators, he headed down the hall, hearing a few heavy steps before your door swung shut. Just like that, he was gone.

You don’t know what you thought you saw, or if it was just something you wanted to see. You felt like a child again, a rejected little girl who’s crush wouldn’t play with them on the playground. The one time you let the silly hope shine in your eyes while looking up at the gorgeous man who you’ve come to realize you do sort of have feelings for, at least a little bit, was the only time Marc needed to see it before running away.

You’re not sure how long you lay there naked under the throw with his cum drying on your inner thigh before a couple of unsuspecting and quiet knocks sounded at your door. The weight of the hand behind the door didn’t sound familiar; maybe it was a neighbour who came to complain about the noise.

Wrapping the blanket around you like a shawl, you awkwardly (and sorely) padded to the door, opening it an inch before seeing the man who just bolted from your apartment back and looking uncomfortable. Maybe he forgot something.

“I forgot something.”

Opening the door wider for him, fully expecting him to immediately go looking for his wallet, keys, whatever it was, you don’t intend on watching him like a kicked puppy.

But Marc surprises you. He enters your home, shuts the door and still has that face of confusion on from earlier before he pulls you into his chest, his arms going around your waist as he hugs you close.

“Promised I’d clean you up, remember?” He whispers in your ear.

[atomicladytimetravel]

Anything For You

Summary: No outbreak AU. Reader gets caught masturbating by Joel and he fulfills her creampie fantasy. Absolutely no plot, just me being feral for Joel Miller. 18+ ONLY. MDNI.

Warnings: Established relationship, daddy!kink, borderline daddy/little girl dynamics because I have daddy issues okay? , soft dom!Joel, f masturbation (pillow humping) creampie, breeding kink (I don’t want kids but I would give Joel Miller as many babies as he wanted), fingering, squirting, pet names (princess, baby girl, angel, etc) unprotected p in v, big girthy age gap (not specified but at least fifteen years) Joel calls reader a slut (once).

Word count: 1,814

God I love that picture of Pedro, it’s so daddy.

——————————-

“Baby girl?”

The sound of Joel’s voice pulled you out of sleep. You whined a little, still too tired to want to get up.

“I’ve got to go run a few errands princess. You can stay here and sleep a little more. You’re probably still tired from last night, huh?” He dragged his knuckles down your cheek softly and you melted into his touch.

“Mmm, yes daddy,” you murmured, still half asleep. He chuckled softly and smoothed his hand over your hair before bending down to kiss you.

“I’ll be back soon. I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too.”

You woke again an hour or so later, feeling much better than when Joel had tried to wake you earlier. He’d been insatiable the night before, fucking you until the early hours of the morning. You weren’t complaining, though. How could you when he milked more orgasms out of you than you could count?

You had wanted to beg him not to pull out. He marked you as his in every other way but this one. Joel rarely ever says no to you but the potential for parenthood might be a deal breaker. You would have Joel’s babies in a heartbeat, but the topic had never really been discussed at length. His daughter was grown and out of the house and you were afraid he wouldn’t want to start over.

Just the thought of getting a creampie from Joel made you horny. The more you thought about it, the wetter you got. You had no clue how long Joel would be gone, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. You stripped down to just your panties and stuffed a pillow between your legs. You rolled your hips slowly, sighing when some of the dull throbbing between your legs was relieved. Your slow pace didn’t last long. Soon, your hips were moving frantically and you shoved your panties to the side to get better friction on your clit.

“Daddy please, I want it so bad. Please give it to me daddy.”

You reached down and pulled the hood of your clit back, the sensation making you throw your head back and moan. You were so close, right there, and then…

“Stop.”

You froze, your head snapping back to its normal position. Joel was leaning in the doorway watching you with mixture of amusement and arousal.

“What’s gotten into you baby girl, hmm?” He crossed the room to stand in front of you. “What got you so worked up that you couldn’t wait for daddy to get home?”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, looking down. He lifted your chin so that your eyes met his.

“Now princess, you don’t have to be sorry. You know daddy doesn’t mind if you take care of yourself. Just tell me what you were thinking about and I’ll take care of it for you.”

“I can’t. I’m scared,” you admitted. He looked at you, confused.

“Scared? When have I ever said no to my baby girl?”

“I want…I want you to cum inside me,” you said, biting your lip nervously. “I wanna make you a daddy again.”

“Oh, baby…,” he whispered softly, a smile creeping across his face. “Is that all? You just want to have daddy’s babies?”

You nodded.

“I’ll give you as many babies as you want princess.”

“Really?” you asked excitedly.

“Really,” he smiled. “Now let’s see if we can get you knocked up.”

He shed his clothing and sat up against the pillows with his legs spread.

“Panties off,” he said. You slid them off and tossed them onto the bed. He patted the empty space between his legs and you sat with your back against his chest.

“You are so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said in your ear before placing a soft kiss behind it. “Spread those legs. Daddy wants to feel how bad you want him.”

You obeyed without hesitation. He put a hand between your legs and swiped his middle finger between your pussy lips.

“God damn princess, you want it bad huh? Look at how wet you are for daddy.”

He didn’t have to show you; you were seconds away from breaking his rules and taking what you wanted - no, needed - if he didn’t touch you soon. Still, he held up his glistening middle finger for you to see.

“I wish you had told me sooner this is what you wanted honey. I would’ve been stuffin’ you full of cum all along.”

“Oh fuck. Daddy, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore,” you begged.

“Aww, my needy little thing. Where do you want me to touch you babydoll? Here?” He ever so lightly swirled the pad of his middle finger around your nipple.

“Or maybe here?” His hand was on your inner thigh and he squeezed gently.

“How about here?” He finally touched your swollen clit and you gasped.

“Yes daddy, there. Touch me there.”

“Okay sweet girl,” he chuckled. “Daddy’s got you.”

He rubbed your clit in slow circles and your head fell back onto his shoulder.

“Whose pussy is this baby girl?” he asked lowly, his lips to your ear.

“Yours daddy,” you mewled.

“That’s right, good girl,” he praised. He kissed your shoulder and slipped his middle finger inside you.

“This where you want daddy to cum, hm?”

“Yes, please,” you moaned.

“Daddy’s gonna fill you up so full. I want you to cum for me first though, baby.” He added a second finger and curled them in a way he knew would get you off quickly.

“Oh god, daddy…”

“Feels good to finally have that pussy touched, huh princess?”

“Fuck yes, so fucking good.”

“Jesus sugar, your pussy is gushing,” he marveled. “Shouldn’t have any problems fittin’ my cock in there.”

You cried out when he began thrusting his fingers into you quickly. He pressed his thumb to your clit and rubbed in sync with his fingers.

“I’m gonna cum,” you breathed. Your legs began to tremble as you reached your peak and you felt the orgasm squirt out of you and onto Joel’s hand.

“Shitshitshit, so fucking good!” you wailed.

“Oh god baby, you’re squirting. I love watching you do that. Keep going for daddy.”

He rubbed your clit furiously and you squirted all over his hand and into a puddle beneath you.

“D-daddy, fuck…,” you panted.

“Princess, that was so god damn sexy.” He grabbed your chin and kissed you hard. “Turn around and sit on my fuckin’ cock. It’s time to give my baby what she wants.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You turned to face him and put your knees on either side of his legs. He grabbed his cock at the base and and you sunk down on it, eliciting a moan from both of you.

“Oh fuck, always so tight for me. My cock fits just right in this pussy, fuckin’ made for me.”

“Oh god yes, you stretch me so good daddy. I love being full of your cock.”

“I know you do baby. Such a good little slut.”

His hands were on your hips, guiding your movements. He kissed your clavicle, then in between your breasts.

“Look at this beautiful fuckin’ body. Perfect for carryin’ my babies,” he murmured. Your eyes rolled back at the comment, a breathy moan slipping past your lips. You put your arms around his neck and began bouncing up and down on his cock.

“Feels so good,” you whimpered. “God daddy, you make my pussy feel so good.”

“Daddy knows how to take care of his baby girl,” he said cockily. “I love the look on your face when I give you my cock.”

“Fuck…can I cum daddy? I’m so close.”

“Go ahead sweetheart, cum all over my cock,” he encouraged. He snaked his arms around your waist and held you close as you bounced faster on him.

“Oh fuck yes, daddy I’m cumming!” Your hips stilled as you came around him and he held you down on his cock.

“That’s it baby, soak daddy’s cock,” he groaned. He could feel your orgasm splash against his abdomen and thighs. “Fuck baby, are you squirting again?”

“Yes,” you managed to squeak out. “Cumming so hard daddy.”

“That’s it, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you,” he growled. In one quick movement, he had you on your back with your legs pushed to your chest. Joel is a soft dom until he’s actually inside you, and then all bets are off. He goes absolutely feral for your pussy. He didn’t give you time to come down from one orgasm before he was fucking another one out of you.

“Yeah, you keep cumming baby girl. Daddy loves watching his princess cum.”

“I - fuck! - I can’t stop…shit I’m cumming again!” You were practically convulsing beneath him. Stars erupted behind your eyelids.

“Tell me - ah, fuck baby - tell me you want my cum in your pussy.”

“Oh god daddy, I want your cum in my pussy so bad. Please fill me up daddy.”

“Yeah? You want me to make you a mommy princess?”

“Yes daddy, give me your babies. Wanna have your babies so fucking bad!”

“Fuck, here it comes. Oh god, daddy’s filling his pussy so full.” His hips stilled as he pumped his load into your pussy, a look of pure bliss on his face. When he was finished, you were surprised to see he was still hard as he pulled his cock out.

“Oh baby, there’s so much cum. It’s just dripping out of that little hole.” He pushed some of it back in with the head of his cock before shoving himself all the way back in.

“Daddy’s not gonna last long but I gotta fuck you some more. You’re so god damn sexy baby.”

He spit on your clit and rubbed furiously, sending you over the edge before you could even voice it. You gripped the sheets and arched your back, your mouth forming an “o” but no sound coming out.

“Yeah baby, good girl, taking my cock so well. Pussy’s so fuckin’ tight. ‘M gonna fill you up again pretty girl. Oh god damn, I’m cumming hard…”

He emptied his balls inside you with an animalistic growl. When he had nothing left to give, he pulled out slowly and watched as his cum dripped out onto the sheets.

“Did you enjoy that baby girl?” he panted.

“Yes, thank you daddy. It felt so good.”

“I’m glad,” he smiled. He plopped down beside you and pulled you into his side. He rubbed your arm and kissed the top of your head.

“You did so good sweetheart. How about we go take a bath and then we can do whatever you want,” he offered.

“Can we go to Starbucks and Target?” you asked excitedly. He laughed at your enthusiasm.

“Anything for my baby.”

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby'

PART 8 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f & m receiving), cum play, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 10.2k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

Notes: I know, the Italian/descriptions of this area of Italy are not 100% accurate. Sue me! But seriously, I wasn't too focused on accuracy, so just take it as it is!

PART 8 | drinkin' on the beach (with you all over me)

“So, will you tell me where we’re going yet?” you asked slyly.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he replied, fighting a smile. He extended the hand not carrying your suitcase, which you took as you descended the rest of the steps.

“I just don’t get why you’re not -”

You stopped mid-sentence, realizing what Steve was leading you towards.

“Is that -?”

Your question was answered as he popped the trunk of the red Ferrari, placing your suitcase inside.

“It’s mine. Well, ours, I guess. For the week.”

“You’re - you can’t just rent a car like this -”

“I can,” Steve said, slamming the trunk close. He smiled smugly, then shrugged. “I know a guy.”

You managed to pick your jaw up from where it was hanging and rolled your eyes.

“Of course you do,” you said, making your way to the passenger side. “So -”

“Hop in,” he said, opening the door for you. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You took his hand and let him help you in, Steve closing the door behind you and coming around until he was in the driver’s seat, right next to you.

“Wow,” you said under your breath.

“What is it?”

“I just - I realized I’ve never actually seen you drive before. Or, been in the front of a car with you, really.”

He chuckled, sitting back in his seat.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Ready?”

You nodded, clicking on your seatbelt as he pulled away from the curb.

“So - what did you say to Robin to get her to agree to taking me away all week? She usually loves to go all-out for my birthday, as much as I tell her she doesn’t have to.”

He shrugged. “I’m pretty good at sweet talking.”

You thought about your roommate for a moment, and the idea of her being sweet-talked into anything, and snorted. “Cute, what did you actually do?”

A pause. Then, “I promised I’d pay for your belated birthday party. Whatever she has planned, I said I’d help make it happen.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You don’t understand! Robin loves birthdays! And like, I don’t hate them, but I’ve just never been much of a big celebrator or anything, and she always goes nuts. And now you’re giving her a budget? You’ve created a monster, Harrington.”

He laughed, reaching down to take your hand. He gave it a tight squeeze.

“Well, I’m sorry. But, I’ll do my best to rein her in, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure, good luck with that.”

It’s only several minutes later, after you’ve both laughed it off, that you realized he was still holding your hand as he drove. Had he ever done something like that before? Before you could dwell on it, you pulled your hand away, hoping that reaching for the water bottle in the cupholder made it seem nonchalant.

You cleared your throat. 

“So - can I know where we’re going yet?”

“You certainly can guess, if you want.”

You sighed, throwing your head back against the headrest.

“Okay - well, you said I didn’t need a passport, so we’re not flying anywhere. And, you said to pack bathing suits, so I’m guessing the beach, or pool, maybe. So, staycation? In Italy, somewhere?”

His face remained neutral. “Maybe.”

“You’re impossible.”

He chuckled, taking a moment to glance over at you.

“Just, trust me, yeah?”

After a moment, you sighed, giving up. 

“Yeah, okay.”

As you drove out of the city, you turned the conversation towards his business trip. You asked him about work, how it went, and leaned back and listened. He mostly vented about it, but you paid it no mind - in reality, it was just nice to be with him again. You tried not to think about that part of it too much, though.

The highrises and busy city streets began quieting, giving way to residential townhouses and open roads. The traffic had lessened, the scenery becoming greener, the road narrower.

“So, how long until we get there?” you asked.

“About 4 hours, give or take,” he said. “It’ll be worth the road trip, I promise.”

“I don’t mind a road trip.”

Not with him, you didn’t.

You found yourself glancing over at Steve every now and then - he had only been gone a week, and you had forgotten just how unabashedly handsome he was in-person. As he stared straight ahead at the road, you took in his side profile, and the way his hazel eyes shone in the sunlight, his hands gripped firmly on the wheel. 

Feeling your eyes on him, he spared a glance in your direction. Instead of looking away, you just felt yourself smiling, keeping eye contact.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing - it’s just… you really didn’t have to do… whatever this is. You spoil me, you know.”

His hand found itself on your thigh, giving it a squeeze. 

“It’s my favorite thing to do, baby.”

Baby. He had started calling you that more often now outside of the bedroom. You didn’t protest when he kept that hand there, for most of the drive.

Eventually, you found yourself dozing off, the steady motion of the car and low hum of the radio lulling you to sleep. You only found yourself waking when the car came to a halt, blinking groggily.

In front of you was a pier, boats bobbing in the water as cars lined up. The sea stretched out before you, bright blue in the late morning light.

“What are we -”

“We’re catching a ferry,” Steve said. 

“So, an island vacation?”

He just shrugged, pulling the car up to the dock to load on. You sighed.

“You know, I barely had any idea what to pack. I just threw stuff into a bag.”

“Don’t worry about that - I brought another suitcase for you, bought you some stuff.”

“Of course you did.”

You still had the inner instinct to lecture him, to berate him for spending so much money on you. But, you couldn’t ignore the way he grinned, proud of being able to spoil you. If you asked him to bring you the stars, he’d probably find a way.

The ferry trip was about an hour long, Steve following you to the upper deck to stretch your legs. You leaned on the edge, looking down at the water below you, the wake of the boat making the bright blue water churn into white seafoam. The salt air blew through your hair, Steve’s arm finding its way around your waist. 

Before too long, you found yourselves back in the car and driving off the ferry. You took a moment to assess your surroundings, blinking in the afternoon sun. The port was busy, green hills and rocky mountains stretching out before you in the distance, dotted with colorful buildings. The sea was sparkling, clear as day with an aquamarine hue. The harbor was bustling, boats of all sized docking at the port. People rode their bikes along the pier, the sounds of the water breaking along the coast a consistent din in the background.

“Okay, now can you tell me where we are?”

Steve laughed. 

“Yes - It’s called Ischia Island. It’s kind of become a tourist trap recently, but don’t worry, we’re going to the other side of the island - it’s much quieter.”

“I don’t care about that -”

“I know, but - I guess it’d be nice to have some privacy, you know?”

So you let Steve continue to drive, bypassing the main port and heading up the small dirt road, slowly climbing the mountains. It was beautiful - from up here, the views of the coast were breathtaking. For the first time, you truly realized how much Steve wanted to make this special, pulling out all of the stops for you. In all of your time in Italy, you had never had the time or money to do anything touristy, let alone take an actual vacation. Suddenly, it was nearly overwhelming. You glanced over with Steve, taking him in for a moment. Then, the idea hit you.

“How far are we?”

“Close - probably like 15 minutes. I think you’re going to like where we’re staying.”

“Is this road busy?” you asked quietly.

“Here? No, not really. It’s pretty quiet, I kind of wanted it to be -”

“Okay, good,” you said, cutting him off. “Because you’re going to find a place to pull over.”

He glanced over at you, perplexed.

“Why? Are you feeling alright?”

You nodded, leaning across the console to press your lips to his ear.

“I want to thank you, Harrington. Preferably by sucking your cock.”

You were surprised he didn’t drive the car over the edge of the road and into the ocean.

*******

You and Steve didn’t reach your destination until about 45 minutes later, after you had your way with him. In the end, he was a mess, begging you to put him out of his misery after prolonged teasing from the passenger seat. Afterwards, you were shocked he was even capable of driving again.

Finally, though, you saw it - the place you were presumably staying. Steve pulled the car up a small dirt driveway, to where a beautiful villa was tucked at the top of a hill. Its white stucco exterior was striking against the rolling green mountains, stone steps leading up to it. Steve helped you out of the car, gesturing to the house behind him.

“Is this -”

“It’s all ours, baby,” he said, beaming.

“I - I just assumed we were staying at a hotel or something -”

He nearly scoffed. “A hotel? No way, not for this. It’s just us here, the whole place to ourselves.”

He popped the trunk, pulling out the bags, insisting to take yours, too.

You practically bounded up the steps, not even containing your excitement as Steve unlocked the door and waved you in. 

Inside, it was bright and airy, the white walls stretching up to high, arched ceilings. There was an open kitchen and eating area, the floor a beautiful blue and white mosaic pattern. With the windows open and curtains pulled aside, the villa was bathed in sunlight. You found yourself going towards the back of the house, gasping at what you saw. Before you was a balcony, with a breakfast nook and, most notably, a pool. But, the most stunning part was the view.  The Tyrrhenian Sea stretched before you, sparkling and bluer than the sky, the city barely visible behind the trees. It smelled like salt and citrus, presumably from the trees abundant with fresh fruit. For the first time, you understood what people meant when they said paradise.

You felt Steve coming up behind you, his presence strong and warm. 

“Well - what do you think?”

You paused for a moment, turning around slowly to face him. He looked down at you expectantly, and you reckoned he’d probably be crossing his fingers right now if you couldn’t see them. For some reason, he still thought you were hard to impress.

“You did all this… just for me?”

He nodded.

Before he could even say anything else, you had his face in your hands, kissing him so fiercely that you could barely breathe. He pulled you closer, fingers digging into the small of your back. It was only when you pulled away to catch your breath that you spoke again.

“Where’s the bedroom?”

******

You hadn’t even taken time to explore the rest of the house, tumbling into bed with Steve without a moment’s hesitation. Neither of you took your time, too hasty to touch one another after being separated all week. Steve made quick work of your clothes, pulling you into his lap before sliding into you. You nearly cried at the feeling of him inside you again. Sex with Steve was like a drug, and you were finally able to admit to yourself that you were addicted. It wasn’t long before you were both messes, coming undone in a matter of minutes.

“Fuck,” he whispered, lips pressed to your neck. “So fuckin’ perfect, baby - just like that, oh fuck -”

He was thrusting faster now, practically pounding up into you. You dug your nails into his back, dragging them down as you writhed in his arms, hips meeting his thrusts. Your finger picked up the pace on your clit, and you felt yourself losing control. You bounced in his lap, legs caging him as he pulled you closer. 

“Oh, I - ah! Steve - oh, shit, just like that - you feel so good -”

“Yeah? You like when daddy stuffs you with his cock?” he grunted.

“Mm, yeah - I’m so full, I feel you everywhere -”

“Keep squeezin’ me, baby - shit, you’re really going for it, so wet - are you close?”

You bit your lip and nodded,  moaning as you felt the tension building in your core.

“Yeah, so close - I’m gonna cum -”

“Damn right you are - such a good girl, always cumming on daddy’s cock.”

“Only for you,” you whispered in his ear, pulling him closer, arms wrapping around the nape of his neck. That was the final straw for Steve - he cried out your name, hips stilling as he painted your walls with his cum. You felt the warmth of him fill you, and you sighed. He stayed there, heavily for a moment. 

“Fuck,” he said after a moment. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you ran your fingers along his scalp soothingly.

“Wait,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “Did you finish?”

You considered lying - it was nearly instinctual, having done it with other partners in the past. But, there was something about Steve that made it impossible to lie to him.

“No,” you admitted. “But, I came close, really close - you always make me cum, it still was good -”

“Nope, not happening,” he said, brow setting with determination. 

“What are you -”

But he was reaching down, thumb finding your clit where your bodies met, his softening cock still inside you.

“Steve, what are you - oh! Shit, I -”

You threw your head back, feeling yourself re-approaching your peak as he rubbed deep circles around the bundle of nerves, slowly picking up the pace.

“Steve - you’re still inside -”

“I know,” he whispered. “I want you to cum around me, can you do that, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, gasping as his free hand found your breast. “I’m going to cum on your cock, because I’m your good girl -”

“And tomorrow,” he said, coating his fingers in the slick mix of both of you to stimulate your clit, “you’re going to cum over and over, until you can’t walk. I need to make up for it, gonna make you forget your own name, baby.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, feeling yourself squeezing around him. “I’m gonna -”

“Let go,” he encouraged. “Do it, for me, baby.”

And you did. You screamed his name, pulsing and convulsing around his cock as he continued to work you through it. He was still working on your clit, gradually slowing down as you let the wave of pleasure wash through you.

After, you both just stayed there, tangled in each other as you struggled to regain your breath. You felt his heart thudding against yours, bathing in the afterglow as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you,” you finally admitted. “I missed this.”

His hand stilled. For a moment, you wondered if you had said the wrong thing, if you had crossed a line. But, then:

“I missed you too,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your skin.

You felt your face heat, and just pulled him closer to you, deciding not to say anything else, at risk of doing something you couldn’t come back from.

After a while, you found yourselves laying in bed in a comfortable silence. You could hear the crashing waves and cries of seagulls in the distance. You propped yourself up on your elbow, properly looking at the man beside you.

“So - now that we’re here - what’s the plan? For today?”

Steve stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

“Well, we really only have the afternoon now, so - I’ve got stuff for us to do over the next few days, so it’s really up to you. We can go into town, or hit the beach. Or, just hang out here - what do you think, birthday girl?”

You rolled your eyes. 

“It’s not my birthday yet -”

“As far as I’m concerned, this entire week is your birthday, baby.”

You felt your heart flutter, and bit your lip.

“Well, if I get to decide - beach?”

He grinned, reaching across to brush some hair out of your face.

“Sounds perfect, baby.”

******

Steve had presented you with a new bathing suit and beach cover-up, practically demanding to see you in it immediately. And, you rarely found it in yourself to say no to him. When he first saw you wearing it, you were genuinely concerned he was going to immediately ruin it by tearing it off of your body. But, he managed to control himself enough to make it out the door, his hand snaking around your waist as you headed down to the beach.

The closest beach to you, as it turned out, was only a short walk down the road. And, it was a pretty quiet one. Steve explained on the way how it was a lesser-known alcove, only really used by locals and not well-known amongst the tourists. Sure enough, the white sandy beach was relatively sheltered on all sides by the rocky cliffs, making you feel both so in-the-open and hidden.

You sighed as you settled onto the beach towel, soaking in the sun as Steve set up an umbrella, eventually finding his place beside you. The afternoon was relaxed and quiet, Steve allowing you space to read your book and sunbathe. You tried to think about the last time you let yourself relax like this - it was possible that you never had. 

Eventually, the water just looked too inviting, the sun becoming just a bit too oppressively hot, and you found yourself wandering down to the shoreline. You let the water lap over your feet, the waves warmer than you expected. It was only after you had waded out up to your waist that you heard the water breaking behind you, a telltale sign that Steve was joining. Before you could turn to him, his arms were wrapped around your waist, making you jump and squeal.

“Steve!”

He spun you around in the water, making a big splash in your wake.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered. It was almost too affectionate, the way he said it, but you decided not to question it.

You just smiled, leaning in until his nose was brushing yours.

“Thank you, for this,” you murmured. “I know I’ve been saying it, but - I don’t think I’ve ever taken time to do anything like this, well… ever.”

His face softened a bit, and he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face.

“You’re welcome. Also, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

A devilish grin, then, “For this.”

Then, he was pulling you into his arms and under the water with him, causing you to yelp with surprise as you became submerged. When you broke the surface, he was laughing like a little kid, earning a playful smack in the arm from you, followed by an indignant splash. And, for even just a few moments, it was easy to forget about everything, other than how much fun you were having.

Yes - this trip was exactly what you needed.

********

The next morning, you woke up slowly, blinking in the bright sunlight filtering into the bedroom. It took you a moment to remember where you were - then, the sandy-colored walls, the soft linen, and the lingering smell of salt water and sunscreen reminded you.

You rolled over in bed, reaching across to find it disappointingly empty. You groaned, sitting up and rubbing the bleariness from your eyes. After scrounging around under the sheets, you eventually unearthed a t-shirt, the one you had pulled off of Steve last night. Shrugging it on, you padded through the house towards the back balcony, where the sounds of the outdoors filtered through the open door. Surely enough, there he was, his back to you as he set plates on the table. You wish you had a camera to capture it - the vision of Steve, shirtless with his disheveled morning hair, the sea sparkling behind him in the early sunlight. But, before you could appreciate it anymore, he seemingly sensed your presence and turned.

“Look who's finally risen!” he declared. “I was worried I’d have to wake you up before the food got cold!”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Got cold?”

“Yeah - I made a veggie frittata, I hope that’s alright. I got some pastries too, and fruit. The coffee’s almost done.”

“I - you cook?”

He stopped, crossing his arms. 

“What, did you think I couldn’t?”

You shrugged, throwing up your hands in defense.

“No! I just - I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you cook before.”

You walked towards the table, accepting the chair he pulled out for you as you sank down and settled.

“When did you get all this stuff?” you asked, taking in the spread before you somewhat in awe.

“Oh, um, this morning - I went for a run, and stopped at the market on my way back. Town’s not far.”

You couldn’t even fight how impressed you were, shaking your head in disbelief.

“How long have you been up?”

“A few hours,” he said, shrugging. He cut into the frittata and started loading it onto one of the porcelain plates, passing it to you before sitting down. “I’m usually up pretty early, you know that. I wanted you to sleep in though, glad to know I didn’t wake you.”

“Right. Well, thanks.”

It almost felt like too much, him going to all these lengths for you. Yes, buying you a meal was one thing - he did it all the time. But cooking for you, and with such care… it felt like a different thing entirely. But, you accepted it gratefully, not even realizing just how hungry you were until you started digging in.

You could get used to mornings like this - breakfast on the beach view balcony, fresh coffee and breakfast, Steve’s knee brushing yours under the table. After a while, Steve leaned back and smiled, taking a sip out of his cup of coffee.

“So - are you feeling up for an adventure?” he asked, sounding slightly mischievous.

You raised an eyebrow, taking a bite out of a strawberry.

“What kind of adventure?”

“The kind you need a bathing suit for,” he said. “Preferably a bikini, but that’s really just for my benefit.”

You laughed. “Is that so?”

That was how you found yourself pulling on a bathing suit, pulled out of your bag along with a cover up and sun hat. Steve was already waiting for you when you emerged, a cooler bag slung over his shoulder, holding your beach bag out to you. You were finally starting to learn to relax, not even asking what he was planning - if it kept going the way this trip already had been, you knew he had a good surprise in store.

He took your arm in his, leading you out of the villa and to the car, tearing down the small dirt road until it became a larger, cobblestone one, descending down the hills into the main little town. The day was warm and bright, prompting Steve to lower the roof of the convertible. You let your eyes close, leaning back against the seat to feel the sun and breeze. You barely even noticed when Steve’s hand came to rest on your thigh.

You didn’t really open your eyes until the car slowed to a stop, realizing where you were. It was the pier, with boats of all different sizes and grandeur bobbing in the water. There was a bit of a hustle and bustle, with people loading and unloading, motors starting, dockhands untying boats and sending people off. You looked over at Steve quizzically, only to be met with a smile.

“You ready?”

“Are we -”

“Taking a boat out? Yes, yes we are,” he said, killing the ignition and hopping out of the car. He came around the other side to open the door and let you out before you had a chance to do it yourself. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes as he took your hand, deciding to indulge him.

He led you to the dock, and you couldn’t help but start eyeing the prospective boats waiting for you. Eventually, you stopped at a small motorboat, docked and ready to go.

“We - you’re driving?”

Steve nodded, throwing the bags onto the boat and hopping on.

“Yes - I’ve got a boating license.”

“Since when?”

“Since my dad made me get one when I was 16.”

Somehow, Steve Harrington remained an enigma - what else didn’t you know about him?

He turned, offering his hand up to you to help you on board.

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded, not even hesitating.

“Yes.”

“Good - then come on, I promise it’ll be fun.”

It was so easy to believe Steve, to trust him - when did that happen?

After passing some cash to the dockhand, the boat was untied and sent out, Steve manning the wheel as he headed out into the harbor. You leaned back in the leather seat behind him, holding onto your hat as the boat picked up speed. The waters gradually became less busy, the expanse of blue before you growing greater as you headed out to the sea.

“Where are we going?” you finally asked, practically yelling over the sound of the engine.

“A surprise,” he said.

“Of course.”

This earned a chuckle from him, followed by a gesture towards the cooler pack.

“By the way - I packed some drinks, if you want them. And food, too, but that’s for later.”

You grinned, unzipping it and pulling out a bottle of rose, still cold and wet with condensation. You poured it into a plastic cup that you found in the bag, smiling endearingly at the thought of Steve doing all of this - shopping, planning, packing, doing everything with you in mind. You sighed, sipping your wine as the boat cut through the waves, the breeze blowing through your hair. Finally, you reached what you presumed was your destination: a smaller island came into view, surrounded by big rocky outcroppings sticking out of the water. You couldn’t even see any other boats docked around it.

“Where are we?” you asked, standing as the boat slowed to a stop. Steve threw the anchor down, with more ease than you expected.

“It’s called Sand City,” he said, propping a leg up on the boat’s edge as he tied the knot. “Well, that’s what locals call it - I’m not sure what it’s actually called. But, barely anyone knows about it - if I had to guess, we’re probably the only ones here.”

You glanced over at the rocky beach - from what you could see, there wasn’t another soul.

“Knowing you, you probably rented out the place,” you joked.

Steve chuckled. “I mean, if I could, I definitely would’ve.”

You laughed, but when he didn’t, you stopped.

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Completely.”

You came up next to him, glancing over the side of the boat - the water was crystal clear, the current gentle and calm.

“So, how do we get out there?” you asked.

Steve grinned, pulling his shirt up over his head in one movement.

“We swim.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you dove in after him, the water a relaxing relief from the sun. The pair of you made your way to the shore rather quickly, pulling yourselves out of the water and onto the beach. Here, there wasn;t much of the soft white sand that you had seen on the main island. Instead, the coast was rocky, Steve taking your hand as he helped you weave through to spare your bare feet from the brunt of it.

“You know, for a place called ‘Sand City’ - there’s not a lot of sand,” you observed, following Steve up the beach.

“There’s a reason for that,” Steve said, leading you further up the beach. “See, like a hundred years ago, this place was used for sand mining - and it was a major port. But, they drained the resources, and couldn’t develop anything. See?”

He gestured further down the shoreline. Sure enough, in the distance there were larger wooden posts sticking out of the water, worn and dull with time.

“Those used to be the dock, before it collapsed. But, since there’s a steep dropoff after the sandbar, people like to dock their boats and make day trips out here. Like us, for example,” Steve explained.

“How do you know all this?” you asked, tone laced with surprise.

“I did some research,” he said, shrugging. 

“Why?”

“Honestly? I wanted to impress you,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

You laughed, louder than you meant to.

“What?” he asked indignantly, stopping in his tracks.

“Nothing! It’s just kind of cute that you’re trying to impress me, I guess.”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

You stayed a few steps behind him, smiling to yourself. This was maybe the most relaxed you had ever seen Steve - he seemed younger, almost boyish. You wondered if this is what he was like, years before you met him. When he was your age, was he less hardened? Did he have less walls around him? You had to assume he did.

At one point, he leaned down to pick up a pebble, skipping it across the water.

“Nice, that skipped like, five times,” you remarked.

“You try,” he said, extending a flat pebble to you.

“I’m not any good at this,” you confessed.

“I’ll help you, here -”

He placed the stone gently in your palm, his hand engulfing yours.

“Just follow through like this, and kind of flick your wrist.”

You did your best to ignore how your skin tingled at his touch, following through on his guidance a few times before finally letting go. The stone skimmed the water’s surface, skipping once, before plopping in.

You threw your hands up in the air in celebration.

“Okay, I know that wasn’t much, but - better than anything I’ve done before!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around Steve’s neck.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you pulled away quickly. Before he could say anything, you gestured for him to keep leading the way.

******

The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur. Steve led you up the island to a thatch of trees, where you came across the old ruins of a submarine. You spent a while investigating it, grabbing a fresh peach hanging off of the trees. You and Steve shared it, eventually returning to the water and swimming out to one of the rocks past the sandbar. You let yourself lay out and sunbathe, Steve by your side. Eventually, though, the one peach you had split didn’t seem to tide you over, your stomach grumbling. You groaned.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a picnic on the boat,” Steve assured. “Want to head back?”

You agreed, welcoming the cool water as you dove back in, clambering back up onto the motorboat. Steve produced a true spread from the cooler, of crackers, cheeses, and grapes, topped off with a bottle of white wine to split. It was so idyllic, floating in the middle of the ocean, with the fresh charcuterie that Steve had so carefully packed for you. After you were full and satiated, you couldn’t help it - you had to start touching Steve. You found it hard to keep your hands off of him, tracing his constellation of moles on his back beneath the sun, both of you laying across a towel. You began to trace letters and words, asking him to guess - Steve’s name, your own, smiley faces and stars, anything you could think of. Steve, as it turned out, was shit when it came to guessing.

You found yourself feeling just a bit mischievous, deciding to press your lips between his shoulder blades instead.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, voice a bit rougher than it had been.

“What’s the chance of another boat passing us here?” you asked.

“Uh - minimal. Really slim, we’re pretty isolated,” he answered quickly.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I wanna ride you, if you’ll let me.”

And he did, scrambling onto his back, gripping onto your hips as you straddled him. Your bathing suits were shed in a matter of moments, and you wasted no time in sinking onto him. The boat rocked precariously, but it was part of the thrill - Steve came undone in a matter of minutes, cumming deep inside of you. You followed shortly after, convulsing around him with your head thrown back, underneath the bright afternoon sun.

*******

The next few days passed in a blissful blur - Steve took you all around the island. One day, he rented a Vespa, having you wrap your arms around his waist and hold on tightly as he drove you around to the other side, where a music and art festival was happening. He followed you around, dancing with you and buying you whatever you wanted from the vendors, insisting that you picked out whatever you wanted. Used books, fresh pastries, a sunhat, handmade mosaics, seashell earrings - whatever caught your interest.

One of the items you picked up was a pack of disposable waterproof cameras, which you immediately made quick use of. You began snapping photos of the town, the ocean views, and most of all, Steve. You caught candids of Steve walking down the street, running his hands through his hair, or his side profile, when he wasn’t paying attention. You got him to pose on occasion too, insisting on taking pictures at each new site you visited. Soon, Steve took one of the cameras, playing your own game and sneaking photos of you throughout the trip.

“Pose for me, baby, for the memories,” he insisted, pulling back to capture you every chance he got.

You and Steve made use of the villa, too. On the third day, you woke up to the sound of rain pattering on the roof. Steve bemoaned the inclement weather, but you just snuggled further under the covers.

“What are we going to do, then?” Steve grumbled.

“We can just stay here… in bed… all day,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his neck. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm hm - actually, today’s a perfect day to practice your Italian,” you added, smirking.

“What do you -”

“Here’s the deal,” you said, sinking a bit further below the covers. “I’m going to quiz you on what I’ve taught you so far - if you get it right, I keep sucking you off. You get it wrong, though… I stop, until the next one you get right. What do you say?”

You spent that morning edging Steve, who quickly became a whimpering mess at your mercy. His language retention, it turned out, wasn’t great. Every time he screwed up an Italian word or phrase, you pulled your lips off his cock, looking up at him with disappointment.

When he finally did cum, he begged to do it all over your tits, which you obliged. That, of course, led to a bath in the clawfoot tub, where Steve happily joined you, insisting on reciprocating. The rainy day, as it turned out, wasn’t a waste at all.

Another day, he took you out on a small ferry cruise to go snorkeling. You both dove through the shallows, exploring coral reefs and swimming through schools of fish. You were fairly certain that you’d never get over the color of the sea here - the bright, aquamarine water was stunning, and you were certain that if it was flatter underneath, you’d be able to see through the ocean for miles. You snapped a few photos underwater, hoping that they’d reflect what it looked like in-person. You doubted it, though. At one point, when you both broke the surface and climbed back onto the rowboat you had taken out, Steve was holding a lump of sand in his hand.

“What is that?”

He smiled, shaking it off under the water to reveal what looked like a gray rock. You furrowed your brow, confusion only growing and Steve produced a pocket knife. He cut into it along the edge - it was an oyster.

“In the mood for shellfish, Harrington?”

He just shook his head, prying the shell open. He squinted, then smiled.

“Well, looks like I’ve got some pretty good luck today!”

Before you could ask what he meant, he reached into the shell and pulled out -

“Is that a pearl?” you asked, eyes widening.

He nodded enthusiastically, holding it out to you.

“For you.”

You shook your head.

“No, Steve - do you know how rare that is? Just to find a natural pearl? I shouldn’t -”

“I was hoping to find one, just for you,” he assured. “Seriously - I want you to have it.”

You took it hesitantly, turning the small white stone in your hand. It was so small, perfectly round, with a few grains of sand still clinging to it. You shook your head incredulously.

“I - thank you,” you whispered. You fished your wallet out of your beach bag, tucking the pearl safely inside.

******

The evenings were filled with sunsets and wine, Steve insisting on bringing you to the best restaurants that the island had to offer. When you returned to the villa, you would take a dip in the pool - bathing suits optional. That’s why, by the time your actual birthday came around, it wasn’t a surprise that you were physically exhausted.

The morning of your birthday came on a Saturday, the last full day of your trip. You had attempted to stay up until midnight on Friday to properly ring it in, but you were so exhausted from the sun and copious amounts of wine consumed during the day that you were asleep before 11.

That night, you dreamed. Often, your dreams weren’t very vivid. If you remembered them at all when you woke up, there wasn’t really anything concrete. And, you supposed, this wasn’t really any different. You felt warm, only really seeing flashes of golden light, dancing behind your eyelids like stars. Your skin tingled, and you were just relaxed. You sighed in contentment, suddenly feeling your brow furrow at the realization that you could feel the mattress you were lying on, the soft sheets fisted in your fingers.

You weren’t sleeping anymore, not completely. You weren’t exactly sure when you had stopped, crossing the line between dreaming and consciousness. But suddenly, you were acutely aware of the air on your skin, the quickening of your breath, and, most notably, the feeling of warm lips pressed to your skin.

“Mm - Steve?” you grumbled, voice still groggy from sleep.

“G’morning, birthday girl,” he murmured from below the sheets, pressing a kiss to your navel.

“What’re you -”

“I wanted to make today extra special,” he whispered. “Starting right now.”

He continued to pepper kisses across your abdomen, traveling further down, down, down -

“Fuck,” you gasped as his breath ghosted over your bare cunt. “Steve -”

“Shhh, baby,” he whispered. “Today’s all about you - just relax, okay?”

Anything else that you wanted to say died on your tongue, your breath hitching as soon as his mouth made contact with your core. He licked a stripe up your slit, his tongue settling to swirl around your clit.

“Steve! Oh, shit - just like that. Oh my god -”

You felt your back arch as your hips bucked up to meet his mouth. His fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, spread wide for him as he devoured you.

Soon, one of his hands wandered from your thigh, gathering your slick as he circled your entrance.

You moaned, eyes squeezed shut as you threw your head back.

“Please, Steve,” you whined. He paused for a moment.

“Please what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He started sucking, and you already shivered at the thought of him leaving a mark there, a reminder for later.

“Please - your fingers,” you begged.

“What about them?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Inside me - please - fuck me with your fingers,” you exclaimed.

“If you insist, darling.”

That was your only warning. He plunged two fingers into your sopping entrance, returning his tongue to your clit. You practically screamed, writhing in the sheets as he loved on you in the best way he knew how.

He kissed and licked at your cunt like he was worshiping it. He grinned against your skin at the sound of your whines when he added a third finger, pumping in and out of you at an unrelenting pace.

You found your own hands wandering, looking to grab onto something, anything. Between his ministrations, you heard Steve murmur, “Your tits, baby.”

“What?”

“Touch your tits, sweetheart, you know you want to.”

You didn’t even question it, obeying as your hands found their way to your breasts. You cupped and palmed them, moaning at the added stimulation as Steve continued to eat you out.

“I’m close,” you breathed, feeling your face flush, your heart thudding in your chest. There was pressure building in your core, ready to snap at any moment. You continued feeling your tits, toying with your nipples and squeezing at the soft flesh. 

Your orgasm felt like a dam breaking. You screamed Steve’s name as the pleasure washed over you, intense and white-hot like a tsunami. He worked you through your high, continuing to lap and lick at you, gradually slowing down as your whole body shook. By the time he removed his fingers from you, you were a mess. You felt boneless, certain you’d sink all the way through the mattress if you weren’t careful.

Your breathing was deep and labored, not even capable of forming a coherent thought as Steve pressed soft kisses to your inner thigh. Just as he had started, he kissed his way back up your body - your stomach, your breasts, sternum, collarbone, neck - and, finally, your lips. You still faintly tasted yourself on him, and sighed into his mouth.

After several moments, you finally spoke.

“Jesus Christ, Steve.”

“So, that was good?” he asked.

You turned your cheek down to your pillow, bringing you face-to-face with the man lying next to you.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I - I think that was the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life,” you admitted.

Steve practically puffed up with pride, fighting a smile.

“Is that so?”

You reached across the bed, running your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, really. Best birthday ever.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s barely started yet!”

“Still - that would’ve made it just perfect, no need to do anything else.”

He laughed, throwing his head back against the pillow.

“Well, that’s definitely not all I have planned. We’ve got a whole day ahead of us.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Of course we do. Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to take a shower.”

You rolled out of bed and padded towards the bathroom, not even bothering with the fact that you were stark nude. You felt Steve’s eyes practically burning a hole through you, prompting you to cast a glance over your shoulder.

“I might need help, you know,” you said suggestively.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

********

Most of the day passed without a hitch. In fact, you would call it perfect. Almost, at least. You had breakfast on the balcony, the morning relatively slow and relaxed. Then, Steve took you to the sea, renting another boat until you reached what you learned to be Aragonese Castle. The ruins sat on a volcanic rock formation, accessible via a footbridge going across the water. On the island, you explored the castle, marveling at the sight from the top. You stood atop the structure, something older than you could even comprehend, staring out across the sparkling sea. Steve took your camera, snapping a few photos of you before you noticed.

“Come on, birthday girl, pose for me,” he begged with his go-to line, smiling as you grinned and threw your hands up in the air for the camera. 

After, you took the boat around the coast to another smaller island, making your way up to the little village there. Steve made good on his word, and as you wandered through the market, did his best to name all the items in Italian. Every time he got something right, you kissed him. For everything he got wrong, he had to buy you something from that vendor. In the end, it was working out much better for you, your bag filling more and more as you walked through.

You both walked along the beach, finding yourselves carrying your shoes as you let the water wash over your feet on the shoreline. The afternoon waned to the early evening, the sun moving from beating on your backs to golden, slowly sinking towards the horizon. You had returned to the main island, Steve insisting on returning home briefly to change out of beach clothes. You followed his lead, trusting whatever he had planned. As you were throwing on some makeup, you barely noticed him come into the bathroom behind you, too focused on yourself in the mirror.

“So,” he started, leaning against the doorframe. “I know we haven’t exactly had an occasion for something like this yet, but I had this made for you - I was kind of hoping you’d wear it tonight.”

He held up a clothing hanger, shrouded in a garment bag. You smiled at him through the mirror, bounding over excitedly to unzip and look at what was inside.

“I - wow.”

“Put it on for me?” he asked. “It’s part of your birthday present.”

You obliged, kicking him out of the room, insisting that you wanted him to be surprised. You slipped on the dress easily, your breath catching in your throat as soon as you saw yourself in the mirror.

It was a vibrant, deep red, made of some kind of shimmering silk. Somehow, it both flowed over you and hugged you in all the right places - more than anything else Steve had gotten made for you, this had to have been done with you in mind. Somehow, you were certain it was the best you had ever looked. Valentina had outdone herself.

You opened the door slowly, mainly for dramatic effect. Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a suit jacket over his button-down, the first few buttons notably undone. At the sight of you, he sat up quickly. His eyes widened, looking you up and down as he scrambled to his feet.

“Well, what do you think?” you asked.

It took Steve a moment to say anything, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he searched for words. Then, softly:

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You felt your face heat, the blood rushing to your head creating a dull roar in your ears.

“You’re a liar,” you insisted.

“With you? Never.”

“Well, just one thing,” you said, coming closer to him before turning around. “I need help zipping it up.”

You felt Steve’s hands at the small of your back, pulling the zipper up slowly. His fingers brushed your exposed skin on the way up. And, when he finally reached the top, he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“I have something else for you,” he whispered in your ear. Before you could ask, you felt something cold around your neck, a weight resting against your sternum. Your hand came up to touch it - a necklace. A ruby pendant to match the dress, the chain lined delicately with diamonds.

“Steve-” you said, turning to face him.

“Don’t say anything,” he said, beating you to what you were about to say.

“But - you’ve already put together this whole trip… I can’t -”

“You only turn 21 once,” he said. “It’s a big deal, you know.”

“Maybe in the States - not really so much here -”

“I guess that’s why I wanted to make it special, just for you,” he whispered. “Will you let me?”

His eyes were so soft, begging you to just say yes, and your chest suddenly felt warm.

“Thank you,” you finally said. “Really.”

Then, he was kissing you. It wasn’t hungry, or heated, or demanding. It was soft and slow. When he pulled away, hand cupping your jaw, it felt like you should say something else - but what? Before you could decide what it should be, he was holding out an arm to you. You hooked yours through it, letting him lead the way.

Sunset hadn’t happened yet, but it was probably soon - the sky was bathed in the deep golden of the sun, the day aging and giving way to the evening soon enough. You took the Ferrari, the top down as Steve drove down the hill and into town.

The place Steve had reserved for dinner was tucked into the mountain, made of old stone and terraced into the Earth. You were on the rooftop, your table set out so that you had a view of the city below, and the sea beyond. The sky was turning shades of orange and pink, promising a stunning sunset.

“Steve,” you started once you were settled into your chair, “this place - it’s stunning.”

You couldn’t even hide your awe, realizing for maybe the hundredth time that week just how lucky you were. 

“Just wait until sunset,” he said. “This is the most in-demand restaurant on the island.”

“And you got a reservation?” you asked, perusing the wine menu.

“I pulled some strings.”

“Naturally.”

You brought your feet to rest on top of his under the table. 

After ordering a bottle of wine, Steve reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his tobacco and rolling papers.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he said. 

“As long as you share,” you replied, grinning as he started rolling a second cigarette. 

As you lit yours up and took a deep inhale, you allowed a moment to fully take in the sight of Steve.

The last week had changed him. You thought about him, and how he had said that this was the first time he had taken a vacation from work. His skin was tanned, his hair a bit lighter from the time in the sun. It had grown a bit longer, too, since you’d first met him. 

As he breathed out smoke, donning sunglasses and bathed in the golden light of dusk, you felt your chest ache. For better or for worse, Steve Harrington has changed your life. 

After enjoying a decadent meal of seafood, flatbreads, and pasta, all shared with Steve, it was properly dark out. The only light came from the strong lights hanging around the patio, and the candlelight on the table. You were a bit tipsy from the shared bottle of wine, feeling warm and hazy. It was during dessert, as you were sipping a cappuccino and tasting your tiramisu, that Steve cleared his throat.

“So, I have one more present for you,” he announced, straightening up in his chair.

“Steve - no.”

“But -”

“You’ve already gotten me the dress, the necklace, this entire trip. And, well… everything else.”

The arrangement, which you two barely spoke of anymore. At least, not directly. He just sighed, pulling an envelope out of his pocket and sliding it across the table to you.

“It’s the last thing, I promise - please?”

You stared at him for a moment before finally conceding. Grabbing the envelope, you tore it open, pulling out the piece of paper inside. You stared at it for a moment, squinting in the dim candlelight. It was a map - a map of the night sky. You vaguely recognized it, thanks to the astronomy class you had to take during your first year of school.

“It’s - the sky?”

“Well, it’s a certificate, for proof.”

“Proof of what?”

He pointed to the text at the top. You read it once. Twice. Five times. You felt your eyes widen, your mouth hanging open.

“Did you - did you name a star after me?”

Steve nodded slowly, assessing your reaction. 

“Yes. Well, specifically - it’s kind of stupid, but… it’s a star that’s over Rome in late May, right around when we met. I don’t know, I just thought - it was just an idea.”

When your eyes met his again, he was asking a silent question - expectant, nervous, his gaze asking, do you like it?

It was then that it hit you. It was like a train, knocking the breath out of you. And, without thinking, you said it:

“I’m in love with you.”

As soon as it tumbled out, you swore your heart stopped. Everything was spinning, and you were certain you were going to be sick. But, after an agonizing moment, Steve just raised an eyebrow.

“So, am I supposed to know what that one means?”

“I - what?”

“Are you quizzing me again?”

A wave of relief washed over you - you had said it in Italian. What Steve had heard was sono innamorato di te. You let out a deep breath, laughing nervously.

“Oh - yes. Yeah!”

“Okay - what does it mean?”

“Just, um - it means I love it. The gift, I mean. It… it was really thoughtful.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Oh, good. I’m glad. I wasn’t sure what you’d think, to be honest.”

You stared down at the paper, avoiding his eyes. You did your best to just focus on the page, hoping he couldn’t tell that your hands were shaking.

“No - it’s great. Thank you, really.” 

You forced a smile, meeting his eyes again. Then, you stood up suddenly, your chair sliding out behind you. Concern flickered across his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Me? Yeah, I just - I need to use the ladies’ room,” you mumbled. You took a step towards him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before heading downstairs to the lower part of the restaurant.

As soon as you were locked in the bathroom, you braced yourself on the sink. You did your best to steady your breathing, gripping to porcelain for dear life. That was a close call - too close. You immediately started chastising yourself - you were an idiot, a fool. Your one job was to not fall for him. It was the most important part of the agreement. Wasn’t the whole point of this to avoid complications, and heartbreak? 

You took a deep breath, assessing the facts:

You loved Steve Harrington. 

You weren’t supposed to love Steve Harrington. 

Now, every time you were with him, you’d be lying to his face

In a month, he’d be out of your life.

You felt nauseous, the room starting to spin. This couldn’t be happening. But, it was. You stared at yourself in the mirror - your eyes were glassy, threatening to break into full-on tears at any moment. No, you couldn’t do that - you weren’t going to ruin this perfect day, perfect week. This was so you, to ruin everything for yourself at the last minute. You gathered yourself, fighting the urge to cry. You were going to make this work - you had to. Steve never had to know how you were feeling, how much you had fucked this whole thing up. So, you straightened yourself up, doing your best to regain composure, and headed back upstairs to the table.

Steve visibly relaxed when he saw you approaching.

“Everything okay?” he asked as you slid into your chair.

“Oh - yeah. All good, it’s just - I’m stuffed!” you declared, laughing half-heartedly. “Seriously, this was delicious, but - I can’t eat or drink anything else.”

Steve nodded. “Oh, no problem - I can get the check.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You had to seem normal - to make yourself feel normal. Nothing had to change between you two, as far as you were concerned.

So, you let Steve take you home, your hand on his leg making him drive the car borderline recklessly. You both stumbled through the door of the villa, shedding one another of your clothes like your lives depended on it.

Maybe you were reading too much into it, or maybe something truly had shifted. More likely, the reality was somewhere in the middle. But, the sex wasn’t desperate, or urgent. You took your time with one another, exploring each other’s bodies like it was the last time you’d ever do so. Steve held you close, kissing every inch of you, his lips whispering prayers and sweet nothings into your skin.

You gave it all back to him, thanking him for everything he’s done for you with filthy words whispered in his ear, telling him how good he was making you feel.

He sucked bruises into your skin, and you left scratches down his back. When you came, it was together, the pleasure peaking and flowing through both of you in unison. After, he laid on top of you, your fingers running gently through his hair as you stared at the ceiling. You just let yourself bathe in the afterglow, hanging on to Steve like he’d disappear if you didn’t.

It was later, after your head had settled onto his chest with his arms wrapped around you, that he finally spoke.

“So - did you have a good birthday?”

“Mm,” you hummed blissfully. His heartbeat thudded steadily against your ear, grounding you.

“Best birthday I ever had,” you added.

“Really?”

“Yes,” you affirmed. “You - you made me feel special. I don’t think anyone’s bothered to do that before, not like this.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Steve said solemnly. “You deserve better.”

You shook your head, burying your face further into his chest.

“You’ve made up for that,” you assured him. “Trust me.”

His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“Good,” he said. “I mean, we’re doing round two next weekend, with Robin’s not-surprise party.”

You groaned.

“I forgot about that.”

“It’s only because she loves you, you know.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat at the word. You immediately felt stupid for even letting that happen, as if it was voluntary.

“Yeah, she does,” you conceded. 

“I don’t want this trip to end,” Steve admitted. His voice was lower, words slurring a bit. You realized that his breathing had slowed down considerably - he was drifting.

“Me neither,” you admitted. “Let’s just stay forever.”

It sounded like a joke, earning a low chuckle from him. It didn’t feel like one, though.

“Whatever you want,” he murmured.

After a few moments, Steve went completely silent. His heartbeat was slower, and you sighed, rolling over to stare at the ceiling.

Without him to distract you, your mind started racing. The anxiety was gone - no, the feeling now was pure and utter dread. But, the most horrible part was when you glanced over at the man beside you - all you felt was butterflies, churning in your stomach like some sweet sickness.

You stared at Steve for a while - the rise and fall of his chest, his disheveled hair, the way the moonlight cast over his form, highlighting his silhouette.

“Hey, Steve? You awake?” you whispered through the darkness. No response.

You brought yourself up onto your elbow, leaning in just a bit closer. You’d never be able to tell him to his face, but this was the closest you’d get - maybe you just needed to get it out of your system. At least, that was what you told yourself.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered. No response.

You promptly turned over under the covers, burying your face in the pillow. And, finally, the tears came. Fast and hot, they leaked onto the pillow, marking it like acid as you did your best to sob silently.

You were fucked. Completely and utterly ruined. For the first time in ages, you cried yourself to sleep. Before you finally drifted off, one question was on your mind:

What were you going to do when Steve left for good?

author's note: hi everyone! Thanks for your patience for this update! Work has been kicking my ass, and it's been harder to make time to write. Before anyone says anything, no, I don't speak Italian, nor have I been to Italy. I did my best, but some details were fabricated for the story, so if it's not accurate - oh well! Thanks to everyone for all the kind messages, and to my bestie Em for the endless inspiration. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

[rowaelinsdaughter]

OUR DOLL

a/n;; this is the dirtiest thing i've ever written, and you can see that i got a liiiiiitle carried by this... but come on!!! they are rowan and aelin. 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ im on my knees for them.

WARNINGS;; smut without plot, degradation(?), orgasm denial, mommy and daddy dynamics, overstimulation, m!oral, aelin uses a strap on reader (this was so 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️)

rowan whitethorn was tired. his day had been filled with meetings. meeting after meeting. he was tired of diplomacy, of talking and everything. the only thing he wanted was to be in bed with his mates.

he made his way to their room when he heard a noise. a slap. stopping on the door, he sharpens his hearing, trying to figure out what it was. another sound. this time a moan. your moan. you were moaning. 

he opened the door, carefully not to disturb. your moans were louder now that he was inside.

“you like it, doll?” aelin said. her voice full of lust. 

fuck. rowan thought. he made his way to the open door of the bedroom, and the sight before him… fuck fuck fuck.

aelin was seated on the bed, her back on the headboard as she watched you bounce on her dick. a strap. aelin was using a strap on you, and you were bouncing like you would do on his dick. your eyes were close. moans leaving your mouth as aelin’s hands roamed over your body. a slap on your butt and the other hand was massaging your tit. 

rowan touched his dick. he wanted to release it from his pants. 

his eyes found aelin’s. a smirk on her face as she stops you, a whimper leaving your lips. 

“you like the sight, rowan?” your eyes follow aelin’s and you found rowan on the door. his dick begging to be free from his pants, and his eyes full of lust. 

you feel aelin on your side, her lips brushing your ear. “why don’t you turn around and beg to rowan?” 

a little nod and with her help, you turn around, your back pressed on aelin’s chest. you look at rowan through you lashes and notice that his shirt was gone, as well as his pants and underwear. the sight before you makes your walls clench around her dick, buried deep inside you. rowan grabs your neck so you are looking at him. lust and fervent desire. you look at his dick, precum was dripping from it. his hand moves to your neck and squeezes it, you look at his eyes again.

“you like my dick, doll? you want to suck it?” 

aelin bites your shoulder. “answer doll”

“yes”

“yes, what?” rowan demands.

“yes daddy” you answer, a wicked smile on their faces.

with her fae speed, aelin maneuvers you, and now you are on your hands and knees. her hands grabs your hips and she leaves a little from your cunt, making you whimper at the loss. rowan catches your hair creating a ponytail and before he can tell you what to do, your mouth is open and your tongue is out. an invitation. 

a breathy curse leaves his lips and with a push oh his hips, his dick is inside your mouth. at the same time aelin shoves her dick against your throbbing cunt. your body shrives at the sensation and a cry falls from your lips. they both start with the same rhythm, your body is on fire and you think you can die just from having them. 

“gods… look at you doll. such a dirty girl, just for us” aelin says with a harsh thrust to your cunt. if she wasn’t grabbing you, you would have fallen to the bed. 

“that’s it aelin, she’s our dirty girl, just our- fuck”  rowan hand gripped your hair as he cum on your mouth and aelin stops her hips. “that’s it, take it all doll, just like that. good girl”

aelin takes your hands, and with a pull you’re on your knees again, unable to move your hands thanks to her. rowan’s mouth is inches from your’s, his hands massaging your tits and pinching your nipples. 

“what do you want, doll?”

“i wanna cum, please”

rowan bites your shoulder and his lips travel to your ear. “where are your manners, doll?”

you shallow. “i wanna cum, please, mommy, daddy let me cum please, i’ve been a good girl, please” a tear falls from your eye and you feel aelin lick it. “good girl… we should let him cum rowan?”

“mmm, i think she has been a good girl for us” aelin thrusts into your pussy as rowan’s hand rubs your clit. 

the pounding is incessant, and you know the whole castle can hear you moaning, but they don’t care, let them know they are the only ones who can make you cry from pleasure.

“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-” a cry and you’re coming on aelin’s dick as they both bite your neck on each side. your body feels dizzy, your breaths are difficult as you feel like you're in heaven. aelin removes the strap from you, a little groan falling from your lips. she goes to the bathroom to prepare everything.

“let’s go bath, doll”

“i don’t-” a pair of arms raise you from bed, and you hear aelin closing the water. once you all are bathed, they take you to bed, each of them on your sides. a kiss on your shoulder and lips is the last thing you remember. 

“we love you, doll”

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

tagging;; @shadowdaddies @thehighladywrites @hellwantfuckme

[corroded-hellfire]

You Belong With Me - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: modern!au. Eddie is dating Chrissy, but she’s making him miserable. What would it take for him to notice that he’d be better off with you? Based on the Taylor Swift song.

Note: Oh, so many thoughts about this one. I’ve never been a big fan of song fics, but this song just screamed this dynamic at me and wouldn’t let me rest until I wrote it. And it physically hurt me to write Chrissy as the “bad guy” because I just adore her and Grace so much. But for the fic, it had to be done. Lastly, I literally stayed up all night to write this so I apologize if my sleeplessness caused any more errors than usual.

Warnings: modern!au, language, sex jokes, mention of gun, I think that’s it?

Words: 8.7k

“But that’s not what I meant. No, no, I- Babe, it was a joke. It wasn’t about you! You know I don’t like basketball game- Yes, I’m coming. Of course. I’m sorry, okay? Like I said, it was a joke- Okay. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you there. Okay. Bye.”

Eddie tosses his phone down on your bed and rubs his hands over his face. You sit up near your pillows, wincing through the whole phone call. Eddie getting frustrated like this was becoming far too common for your liking.

“You okay, Eds?” He isn’t, but you’re not sure if he’ll want to talk about it or not.

“Fine,” he says. He has to know you don’t believe him, but he also knows you won’t push him. He climbs on your bed, leaning against your footboard.

“I made a stupid joke,” he says. “I said something about watching a basketball game being like watching a goldfish swim around in its bowl. You’re just looking back and forth at the same thing the whole time!”

It’s not the appropriate time, but you can’t help but laugh. “It’s true, though.”

“Thank you!” he says. “It was a dumb joke but somehow Chrissy took that as me saying I hated going to see her cheer. Is it my favorite thing to do? No. But I do it because she’s my girlfriend.”

You nod your head at him, not sure what you could say. There are a million things you want to say. Break up with her. She’s not good enough for you. I’ve been in love with you for years, you doofus. But none of that would help him. It’d only stress him out even more, which was the last thing you wanted to do.

“I swear, the only saving grace at those God-awful games is that you’re there with me. If I didn’t have you to make snide comments with, I don’t think I’d be able to stomach it,” he says.

It should make you feel better, you think. But in reality, it just makes you want to smack him on the back of the head and say, “then what does that tell you, dumbass? Spending time with me is better!”

“We’re going to the game tonight, I’m assuming,” you say. It’s a Tuesday so there wasn’t a Hellfire meeting, which was the only acceptable reason, according to Chrissy, that Eddie could miss a game. Even those, she wasn’t thrilled he skipped games for.

“Don’t have much of a choice,” Eddie mumbles, picking at his rings. He looks up and meets your eyes. “I mean, you do, though. You don’t have to come with me.”

And make him do this alone? You couldn’t. Even if you had to sit there and pretend not to see Eddie watching Chrissy, or just pretend to not see Chrissy in general. It was never a choice for you if there was an opportunity to spend it with Eddie. You’d stand blindly by his side, supporting him however you could.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” you tell him.

He smiles and tosses one of your stuffed bears at you. “Like I’d ever want to get rid of you.”

Looking into his eyes suddenly makes you feel like you could cry, so you jump off your bed and head over to your Bluetooth speaker.

“What do you say? Some Ozzy?” you ask.

Eddie groans and drops his head forward. “God, I wish I could stay and listen. I’ve got two deals before the game tonight, though. I’ve gotta head out.”

You pout and press play on the machine anyway. Ozzy Osborne was not what was queued up next, however. The acoustics of a Taylor Swift song start to play into the space of your bedroom.

Eddie groans again, louder this time. You stop the music and start to skip through the shuffled playlist.

“I am so tired of pop songs. It seems like that’s all that’s playing in my car lately and it’s driving me up the wall. I can listen to it sometimes, but God forbid we listen to any of my music as I’m driving around with her.”

Your pout grows as you keep your back to Eddie. You never know what to say to him when he complains about Chrissy. He wanted to date her so badly that you didn’t think anything could hurt you worse. But seeing the way she treats him? That beat all.

“I thought you didn’t even like Taylor Swift,” Eddie says. It just shows how much Chrissy must be making him listen to pop if he recognized the song by the opening chords.

“I like some of her songs,” you say, turning to face him. “Sometimes it feels like she took a page out of my diary and wrote a song about it. I love Metallica and Black Sabbath dearly, but that is something they just don’t do.”

Eddie stands up off your bed and grabs his leather jacket. He smirks at you as he slips it on. “So, what you’re saying is, Taylor Swift understands you?”

You roll your eyes at him and plop back down on your bed. “Yes, Eddie. That’s exactly what I’m saying. The pretty, millionaire singer, that’s dated all of the hottest guys in Hollywood totally gets me.”

“You sing,” Eddie says with a shrug. “In fact, I wish you did it more. How many times have I begged you to come sing with the band again?”

“It was once, I was drunk, and I’m still grateful that I don’t remember all of it,” you say.

“You were good. I’m not just saying that as your best friend, I’m saying it as a musician. You never sing around me. Why are you embarrassed to?”

The teddy bear in your lap is easier to look at than Eddie. “M’not embarrassed.”

“Oh yeah? Then why not in front of me at least? You’ve seen me puking my guts out and have taken care of me after a hangover, but you’re too shy to sing in front of me?”

“To be fair,” you say, eyes now finding Eddie’s, “you have also seen me puke and taken care of me when I had a hangover.”

“Yet I still sing in front of you.” When you don’t say anything, Eddie starts to get annoyed. “You know, I told Dustin that I wished you’d sing more, and he seemed confused because apparently you sing all the time around him.”

“That’s different!”

“How?” Now he sounds like he’s starting to get mad and it’s the last thing you want. Chrissy had already worked him up and you didn’t want to make it worse.

“You know, Dustin is always singing songs from movies and stuff. You’ve seen him and I singing Suddenly, Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors together. See? I’m not embarrassed in front of you.”

“Yeah, but you were also putting on that squeaky voice the woman has in the movie.” He sighs and takes a few steps towards your bed. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just like it when you sing.”

You look up at him and give him a small smile. “I like when you sing, too.”

“We’ll go to a karaoke club soon then,” he says with a smirk, and you’re not sure if he’s teasing or not. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll come by in a few hours to pick you up?”

“Mhmm.” He heads out of your room, but you call out for him before he can fully leave. “Eddie! Can you hit play for me? I think I got the right song up now.”

Eddie clicks the button on your Bluetooth speaker and Crazy Train starts playing, Ozzy’s maniacal laugh haunting your bedroom.

“Much better,” Eddie says over his shoulder as he walks out of your room.

After dinner with your parents, you head back up to your room. Your mom and dad assume it’s to finish your homework, but you’d finished that a little after Eddie left. Instead, you pull up your metal-only playlist and let it run on shuffle. The synthetic voice comes over your Bluetooth speaker.

“I am iron man.”

This song instantly has you reaching to turn the volume up. Black Sabbath’s iconic sound rings through your room and you jump on top of your bed. You head-bang to the opening notes, feeling more pumped up by the second. You spin around, scooping up your hairbrush from your nightstand to use as a makeshift microphone.

“Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind? Can he walk at all? Or if he moves, will he fall?”

You fall to your knees on the mattress, openly air-guitaring as you sing along.

“Is he alive or dead? Has he thoughts within his head? We'll just pass him there, why should we even care?”

There’s a new voice joining in with yours this time. You slowly turn around and move the hair out of the way that’s covering your face from all your whipping it about. Eddie leans against your doorframe, arms crossed against his chest, and the biggest smile on his face that you think you’ve ever seen. You hadn’t realized how long it’s been since you’ve seen him smile like that. Months? At least.

“Enjoy the show?” you ask as you hop down from your bed.

“Very much,” he says. “Don’t stop on my account.”

You give him a playful glare as you walk over to your mirror. You use your hairbrush/pseudo microphone to get your hair out of your face and looking somewhat presentable.

“How’d the deals go?” you ask as you grab your sneakers.

“Fine. Two usuals so it was quick and painless,” he tells you as you lace up your converse.

Unlike this basketball game will be, you think to yourself.

“Save any for us to use tomorrow?”

“Well, duh. But we’ll have to go somewhere to smoke it. Wayne’s got an old army buddy coming over for dinner,” Eddie says.

“The park?” You take a look at yourself in the mirror and adjust your Iron Maiden shirt. Steve once told you that you should wear school colors to a game. You told him to find you a band t-shirt that had the God-awful orange and green of the basketball uniforms and you would.

“Park sounds good to me,” Eddie says. He pulls on your arm to yank you away from the mirror. “You look perfect, let’s go.”

Your face flushes as you follow Eddie out of your room. Both of you wave to your parents in the living room before heading outside. Climbing into Eddie’s van is second nature at this point, and you make yourself comfortable by putting your sneakered feet up on the dashboard.

Eddie starts the car and Metallica begins blaring through the air. You drum on your knees as Eddie makes the short drive to Hawkins High. Hopefully, Lucas will play tonight. Since he’s been getting better, the coach has been putting him in more. It was great to see his confidence grow.

The parking lot in front of the school is almost as crowded as it would be if school was in session. Eddie slips the van into one of the few empty spots and you both get out. The murmuring from the gym could be heard out in the parking lot. Was this an important game? Was our team doing well this year? You had no idea. You came to most, if not all, of the games, but you hardly paid attention to any of it.

The sounds of the crowd talking loudly to one another, the squeaking of sneakers on the shiny floor, and the cacophony of instruments tuning up in the band section of the bleachers smack you in the face as Eddie opens the gym door for you. You nod to him in thanks before slipping inside. He follows behind you and you wave to Nancy who is on the sidelines with other students from the school paper.

Robin waves and gives you a big smile when you walk past the school band. You blow her a kiss, and she pretends to catch it. In the middle of the bleachers there’s a small gap where you and Eddie could fit. When you get closer to it, you can see it’s empty because Max, Dustin, and Mike have their feet there; their attempt at saving the seat for you guys.

“Finally,” Dustin says. “Thought someone was gonna sit on my feet any second.”

“You better move them quick then,” Eddie says. He moves to sit on the boy’s feet and all three of them bring their legs back to themselves.

From where you’re sitting, the cheerleaders are straight ahead. They’re in your direct line of vision and you get the feeling that your neck is going to be sore tomorrow because you’ll probably spend most of the game looking and talking to Max behind you.

Eddie raises his hand to wave, and you leave your eyes in your lap. You don’t need to see her pretty smile or her bright eyes. Her hair that was never out of place. You reach up to smooth over your own hair self-consciously.

“Stop,” Max says. She’s leaned in towards you so she can whisper in your ear. “Your hair is fine. You look great. And you know he’s going to spend more time talking to you than paying attention to her during the game anyway.”

With a sigh, you turn your head to give her a small smile. She reaches forward and squeezes your shoulder. Your girls knew how you felt about Eddie. With Nancy and Max, they said they had known before you even told them. The pair of them thought it was incredibly obvious to anyone who was paying attention, while Robin was shocked when you told her.

A whistle blows, signaling the start of the game. Your eyes scan the white jerseys moving around the court and on the sidelines. Number eight is standing on the side, hands on his hips and swaying from side to side. From the back, Lucas looks tense and nervous. Maybe this was a big game.

The cheerleaders began with their cheers, the sounds of pompoms crashing against each other catching on the air. Eddie watched the first few cheers before he turned to you.

“I’m already over it,” he says.

“Let me know when Lucas gets out on the court and I’ll care,” you answer him.

“Hey,” Dustin says, popping his head in between yours and Eddie’s. “You hear about the contest down at the bar?”

“What contest?” Eddie asks.

“What bar?” you ask.

Mike breaks his eyes away from the court to join the conversation. “The karaoke bar over by the grocery store.”

“They’re having like, a talent show - karaoke version - or something. I think you win $500,” Dustin says.

“When is it?” Eddie asks. He loved singing in front of people, and if he could win some money in the process, why not?

“Friday, you losers,” Max says, looking at Dustin and Mike. “You seriously didn’t notice that it’s the same night as Hellfire? The end of your campaign?”

“Shit,” Dustin says.

“Damn, that would’ve been fun,” Eddie says. “That’s a pretty big place, too. Nice sized audience.”

“Get up during halftime and sing to this crowd then,” you joke to Eddie.

“Oh God, don’t put that in his head. He’ll do it,” Mike says.

“These people wouldn’t know good music if I blared it in their ears,” Eddie says as he looks around the bleachers. “Ah, look. Harrington with another date. Who’s that one?”

Both you and Max crane your necks to try and see who Steve is with. He’s a few rows higher than you and closer to the band.

“Heidi?” Max asks.

“I don’t think so. Steve said he wouldn’t go on another date with her. Plus, Heidi’s hair is lighter than that,” you say.

Steve catches you and Max looking at him and mimes putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger. Max rolls her eyes while you let out a laugh.

“Poor Steve,” you say. “All these girls just aren’t right for him.”

“I keep telling him that he’s gotta figure out what he wants but he never listens to me,” Dustin says.

“Does he listen to anyone?” Max asks.

“Robin, maybe,” you add.

“Has he ever asked you on a date?” Eddie asks you. You furrow your brow in confusion. Why was he asking this? Just curiosity?

“No,” you say. “We’re friends.”

Eddie shrugs. “Sometimes that’s the best thing to be before becoming something more.”

You take a deep breath and feel your stomach clenching.

“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” you say. You stand up and Max stands behind you.

“I’ll come with you,” she says.

The two of you walk out of the gymnasium and into the quiet school hallway. Max stays quiet until she confirms there aren’t any other girls in the bathroom.

“You’re entering that contest,” Max says.

“What?”

“Find a song that expresses what you’re feeling and let it out on stage. You’re good. Good enough to win. And you know the guys won’t see because they’ll be playing DND.”

“I don’t know, Max.” You lean against the sinks and Max leans next to you.

“Oh, come on. You’re telling me a song about wanting someone who you can’t have comes on the radio while you’re driving, and you don’t angry belt it out?” Max asks.

“Yeah, alone in my car,” you say.

“And it’s cathartic, right?”

“I guess.” You shrug and avoid Max’s eyes because you know what’s coming next.

“If that feels good, imagine getting all those emotions and feelings out on stage,” Max says. “I already signed you up.”

You sigh and rub your hands over your face. It makes sense and you hate it. Music has always been your way of expressing yourself. Maybe doing this would help you release some of your anger and sadness.

“Fine,” you finally concede.

“Yes!” Max says. “We’ll bring Nancy and Robin and it’ll be great.”

“No one tells the guys about this, though,” you say. “I don’t need any of the headache that would come with that.”

“My lips are sealed,” Max says.

 After the game, in which Lucas made the game winning shot, friends and family mingled with the players and cheerleaders. You would’ve gone with the others to talk to Lucas if Eddie hadn’t all but steered you in the direction of Chrissy. His hand was on the small of your back and you’d let him lead you anywhere like that. Even here.

“Eddie!” Chrissy calls. She runs forward and wraps her arms around his neck. He wraps his around her small waist and lifts her up, her short skirt riding up her ass. You divert your eyes from the pair of them, scanning the rest of the crowd for your friends.

“You were great,” Eddie is telling her. “And you looked so hot.”

Your fists clench and your fingernails are digging hard enough into your palms to draw blood.

“Like you even watched me,” Chrissy says with a laugh. “I saw you talking the whole time.”

Eddie frowns and his brows pinch together. “I did watch you.”

“Okay,” she says as she gives him a pat on the arm. It’s the condescending tone that’s dripping from her voice that makes you speak up.

“He pointed out to us in the third period when you did the new cheer. The one you came up with when you became cheer captain,” you say. You bite back from adding, “So, see? He pays attention to you even though you’re horrible to him and he deserves far better than you could ever be.”

Chrissy turns, looking at you as if she just noticed you were there. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi,” you respond, trying to keep the venom in your voice to a minimum.

She turns back to Eddie and wraps her arms around his neck. “I’m hungry. Can we go get pizza?”

Eddie glances at you out of the corner of his eye before looking back at her. “Uh, I hadn’t planned on that. I was going to give y/n a ride home.”

Chrissy pouts and it doesn’t suit her. Her lip goes too far out and her eyes scrunch in a way that looks more painful than sad.

“But I hardly got to see you today. Can’t she get a ride with someone else?” Chrissy asks.

“Don’t talk about her as if she’s not here,” Eddie says, pulling back from her a little. Her pout turns to a glare as she looks at him.

“It’s fine,” you say, taking a few steps back. You didn’t want to make this worse for Eddie and you certainly didn’t want to be stuck in the van with the two of them.

“But…” Eddie trails off.

“It’s okay,” you say, though your heart is telling you the opposite. “Go get pizza.”

He frowns deeper but nods his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here.” You give him a small smile before disappearing into the crowd.

Hopefully, Steve didn’t drive his date here and she had her own way home. You look through the mass of bodies for the familiar head of brown hair but come up empty. You don’t see a baseball cap with curls spilling out of it or a redhead either.

With a sigh, you walk to the doors. You head out into the dark evening, the stars and moon shining bright down on Hawkins this night. Most of the parking lot has cleared out and you don’t see a car you recognize other than the big brown van that used to bring you so much comfort.

Home is only six miles away, so you decide to walk. It’s a chilly night and you wrap your arms around yourself, hands rubbing up and down your arms that are bare in your t-shirt. You’ve made the walk before and you estimate it will take you about two hours. Thankful that you wore your most comfortable sneakers, you head up the hill and off school property.

The streets are quiet and dark, which unsettles you. Weird things happen in Hawkins all the time and you’d wager this is how a lot of them started. After walking two miles, a total of three cars have passed you by. You were almost more afraid when you saw the cars coming towards you rather than walking alone in the darkness.

You hear a car coming from behind and you take a step closer to the tree line and out of the road since the driver probably can’t see you.

“Y/n?”

You look back and Robin is hanging out the passenger window of Steve’s car.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Walking home,” you say as if it was a normal occurrence. Maybe if you act as if this wasn’t that big of a deal, they’d believe it.

“In the dark? Alone? At night? Are you insane?” Robin says. The driver door opens and Steve steps out. He walks over to you and looks at you in concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

“Where’s Eddie?”

“He, um. Well, Chrissy wanted pizza. So, I said I’d get another ride, but I couldn’t find one. And home isn’t too far.” You shrug, not meeting his eyes.

Steve rests his hands on his hips and sighs. His typical mom stance.

“Come on. I’ll drive you home. You’re going to have to pile in though.” He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, wrapping an arm around you and guiding you to the car. “Jesus, you’re freezing. You know, you could’ve called me. Or Robin or Max or Dustin or Mike.”

Steve opens the back door, and the three younger faces look back at you. Max scoots over until she’s sitting on Dustin’s lap.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Dustin says. He raises his arms in the air so he isn’t touching Max at all.

You slide in and Steve closes the door behind you. Dustin refuses to look at anyone, cheeks flushing. You can’t help the small smile on your face as you tug Max over to sit on your lap instead. She settles easily enough and rests her head against the window.

The car smells like fried food and you find out why when Mike holds a bag out in front of you.

“Burger? Fries?” he offers. “Or…” he rummages around in bags between his feet. “Onion rings.”

“Toss one,” you tell him. He smiles as you open your mouth and tries to throw the fried onion inside. Surprisingly, he makes it, which makes the four of you in the back cheer.

Robin gets dropped off first, her living the closest to school. She grabs her band hat and trumpet out of the trunk and waves before she disappears inside her house. Dustin takes the opportunity to jump into the front seat. Technically, Max should’ve been the next one dropped off, but Steve kept driving straight past the trailer park. Max didn’t say a word, knowing why Steve was avoiding the neighborhood for now.

“Why didn’t Nancy drive you home?” you ask Mike as Steve pulls into the Wheeler driveway.

“Because she’s a priss and has to stay late to work on the stupid paper,” he says.

“Hey!” Both you and Steve yell at the same time as he scrambles out of the car.

“You try living with her,” he says before waving his hand in a goodbye.

Your house is next, and you sag in relief when it comes into view. You hadn’t been expecting to see it for at least another hour at the rate you were walking before.

“Thanks for the ride, Steve,” you say. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime that idiot leaves you high and dry just call me,” Steve says, looking at you in the rear-view mirror. You smile to yourself, thinking this must be what it’s like to have a big brother. You now understand why the kids all gravitated towards him.

“Thanks,” you repeat as you get out of the car. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you say to Max and Dustin. They wave as you head up to your door.

 School the next day is weird. People are excited because the basketball team won; so, the halls were buzzing with that energy. But most people were tired as well, having stayed up later than usual to come to the game. It all gives you a nice cover for how you’re feeling. You feel sluggish and irritated. Though you can’t put your finger on the exact reason why, you knew the people it could be blamed on.

Eddie leans up against the locker next to yours between second and third period as you’re exchanging your books out.

“You didn’t text me last night,” he says.

“What?” you ask, not looking at him.

“When you got home. You didn’t text me to let me know you got home okay.”

“You didn’t ask me to,” you point out.

He frowns. “I didn’t think I had to. It’s just kind of something we do.”

“Well, sorry, I guess.” You close your locker and turn to him. “Was there something else?”

“Are you mad at me?” he asks. His big puppy dog eyes are shining and it’s truly your damn kryptonite.

You take a deep breath. “No.” You don’t know if that’s really true or not, though.

“You’re sure?” Eddie raises his eyebrows at you.

“I’m sure,” you lie.

“Are we still on for the park later?” he asks, hope glimmering in his eyes.

“Of course,” you say, eager to see him relax.

“Perfect. I’ve got everything in my backpack already to go.” The weed, he means. You can’t think of a better day to get high than today.  

 School simultaneously drags on and ends too quickly. Chrissy has cheer practice, so you don’t have to deal with her while you walk to Eddie’s van. Once inside, he cranks Sweet Child O’ Mine because he knows it’s one of your favorites. When you don’t hum along or even tap your foot along to the beat, he knows something is up.

He parks the van across the street from the park and grabs his backpack.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod in affirmation and hop out. The two of you walk down the street to the crosswalk. Normally you’d just jay-walk to cross the street, but this intersection was notorious for pedestrian injuries. When you get your signal that it’s okay to cross, Eddie trips and you hear the ripping of material. You look down and see he’s ripped his own jeans by stepping on the hem of them while walking. The tear that was at his knee has now tripled in size and he could easily stick his whole leg through it. You giggle to yourself, and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief at the sound.

The two of you find your usual bench at the park and claim it. It’s hidden by a copse of trees so it’s easier to hide your illicit activities, but still allows you a good view of the park.

Eddie pulls out the two joints he’d rolled and lights one before handing it to you. Though you were used to the sickeningly bitter odor, it didn’t mean you liked it. You wrinkle your nose before raising the bud to your lips. You inhale, letting the burn curl down your throat and into your lungs. You were pretty good at not coughing by now. The first few times you’d ended up in total tears because of the intense hacking.

Eddie takes a hit of his own joint and rests his head against the back of the bench, blowing smoke straight up towards the sky. He closes his eyes and you take the time to admire him. He’d forgone the denim vest today and just settled on his leather jacket over his hellfire shirt. Hints of stubble were starting to appear on his chin and his lips were a little chapped. His long, dark eyelashes kiss his cheeks as his eyes move under his closed lids. He’s so beautiful it physically aches you.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to smile at you. It’s a real Eddie smile and it warms your heart. It’s so rare these days but it’s so bright it could rival the moon at night.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks.

“The moon,” you say.

Eddie chuckles and takes another hit. “Oh yeah?” He releases the smoke. “What about it?”

“It’s so bright. But you only notice the brightness at night.” You came up with it off the top of your head, but it sounded good to you. You raise your joint to your mouth for another puff.

“Like some people I guess,” Eddie says. He doesn’t sound like he’s finished talking so you wait. “Sometimes you don’t see how amazing some people are until everything else around you dims, but they don’t. They’re still there bright and shining.”

It could be that he’s having a profound thought about his life, or the pot is kicking in, so you can’t be sure.

“I want to go to the moon,” you say. Eddie laughs and you can tell both of you are feeling the effects now.

His laugh is infectious and causes you to start laughing as well. You curl in on yourself, abdominal muscles starting to cramp, and you slide to the side to lay across Eddie’s lap.

“Eds?” you ask, eyes staring up at the clouds above.

“Mm?”

“I miss you.”

He frowns down at you and pokes your forehead with his ringed index finger.

“I’m right here, silly head.”

“I know,” you say.

“I like when we talk,” Eddie says. His head is moving all around, taking in all the sights in the park around you. There are a few squirrels scampering up the tree closest to you. Birds sing in the distance and the laughter of kids comes from the playground a few hundred feet away.

“I like it too,” you say. “It’s so easy to talk to you.”

“Always has been. Since we met.”

“You’re my favorite person,” you tell him.

He grins and drops his head down to look at you. “More than Timothée Chalamet?”

“Mhmm,” you hum in confirmation.

“Wow,” Eddie says with a laugh. “That’s saying something.”

The two of you decide to lay in the grass as you let the pot work through your system. Eddie won’t be able to drive for a while anyway, so you take advantage of the nice day.

“I had a weird dream last night,” Eddie says.

“Yeah? Tell me.”

“I was playing at The Hideout. But when I looked down, I was playing the wrong guitar. It was a nice guitar. It was gold and smooth and sounded beautiful. But it wasn’t my guitar. I put the gold guitar down and tried to find mine. I started freaking out because I thought I lost it. I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it.”

“Did you find it?” you ask.

“I did. But some guy was playing it and it made me so mad.”

“What guy?” You let your heavy eyes droop closed.

“M’not sure. He didn’t look familiar. Could’ve been anyone, I guess. But he was playing my guitar and I wanted it back. But he said I was too late. And it made me really really sad.”

You frown and reach over to take Eddie’s hand in yours. “It’s okay, Eddie. No one is going to take your guitar away. Why would it want to leave you?”

 The high lasted a few hours and by the time Eddie got you home for dinner, the munchie effect was still going strong. You devoured the lasagna your mom put down in front of you. The bloodshot look had faded from your eyes, so you were just hoping your parents thought you were extra hungry today for some reason.

 You should’ve gone to sleep hours ago. It would’ve been easy; you always slept better on days when you got high with Eddie. But you still hadn’t picked a song to sing at the karaoke competition. Your head was in the middle of your bed, and you rested your legs up against the wall over your headboard. You scroll and scroll through playlists, trying to find a song that expresses what you’ve been feeling.

The sound of brakes squeaking makes you move your legs down and sit up on your bed. Your phone tells you that it’s 3:17am. You walk over to your window and see Eddie walking around the side of your house. You frown at him, and he notices you up in your window. You point towards the back door and Eddie nods.

Eddie would sometimes come by in the middle of the night, but he’d usually text first. You creep down the stairs as quietly as you can, avoiding any creaks. Your cat picks his head up from where he’s sleeping on the top of the couch to see what you’re up to. He decides he doesn’t care though and adjusts himself into a new comfortable position to fall back asleep.

Luckily, your dad had fixed it so the back door didn’t stick anymore when you tried to open it. It glides open silently and Eddie steps inside.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” you whisper to him.

He nods but he won’t meet your eyes. You frown and take his hand in yours. As you walk back past your cat, he picks his head up again and deems Eddie worthy of his affection. Eddie scratches his head two times before following you up the stairs.

You pull him into your room and quietly close the door behind you.

“What’s up?” you ask him.

He shrugs and sits on the edge of your bed. “Didn’t want to be alone.”

The sheets are messy, and you crawl on top of them, making yourself comfortable against the mountain of pillows against your headboard. Eddie glances back before leaning backwards so his head ends up in your lap. You start to play with his hair. You haven’t done this in a while, and it warms your heart. His eyes drift closed, and you think he’s fallen asleep until he quietly kicks his boots off so he can pull his legs up on the bed as well.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

He opens his eyes and stares at your ceiling. “I feel confused.”

“About what?”

“That’s the thing. Everything.”

You frown and trace your pinky finger along one of his curls. “Elaborate?”

“I don’t know how,” he says. “Feel like everything is upside down. I feel like I want things to go back to normal, but I don’t know what’s changed to make me think things aren’t normal. Am I making sense?”

“Sort of,” you say.

His eyes begin to water, and it breaks your heart. You’d give anything to be able to fix what’s wrong, but he doesn’t seem to know.

“Where do I belong?” he asks.

“Here,” you say without hesitation. “Here with me and your uncle and Dustin and all your friends. Here with your favorite guitar and your band and your loud as all hell van.”

That makes him chuckle and your heart feels ten pounds lighter. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again.

“Did you miss something on that list? Or someone?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say carefully. “Did I?”

He licks over his lips before answering. “I don’t believe you did. I think that was a pretty complete list. Doesn’t need anyone else.”

“No?” you ask.

He opens his eyes and shakes his head. “She reamed me out for an hour before because I hadn’t bought prom tickets yet.”

“I didn’t even know they were on sale,” you say. You’re trying to keep your voice calm for him, but it’s proving difficult.

“Neither did I,” he says. “But she goes on and on about how she already bought her dress and the, and I’m quoting here, ‘the prettiest high heels in the world.’”

“Shouldn’t she have waited until, you know…at least until you asked?”

“Right?” he huffs out. He runs his hands over his face, and you start to play with the small curls along his forehead. “I’ve got to end it.”

“I think so,” you say in a small voice.

He tilts his head up so he can look at you. “Friday, yeah? Tomorrow I’ve got a test, so I don’t want the stress added to that. I need to pass this class.”

“Biology again?” you ask. “I thought you were doing better.”

“I am, but I won’t if I bomb this test.”

“You should probably get some sleep then.” You almost said “go home and get some sleep” but that’s not what you really want. He nods and goes to sit up, but you catch his arm.

“Here?” he asks.

You shrug and slide yourself under the covers. “Why not? I don’t have cooties. I got the shot.”

He smiles and shrugs out of his leather jacket before sliding in the bed next to you. Your heart races as his head lays on the pillow next to yours, noses almost touching.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

“Goodnight.”

 On Friday, you only get to see Eddie between second and third period at your locker. His plan is to have lunch with Chrissy outside and break up with her then. Your paths don’t cross after lunch, and he has Hellfire and you’re meeting with the girls to get ready for the karaoke contest right after school. Your stomach will be in knots until you find out how it went.

Nancy dusts your eyelids with silver eyeshadow as you sit on your bed. Max and Robin go through your closet, deciding what you should wear tonight.

“No, that might be see-through under the lights.”

“What about this?”

“It clashes with the silver eyeshadow.”

“Any texts from Eddie?” Nancy asks quietly as she cleans up the edges.

“No,” you breathe out with a sigh. “But he’s never on his phone during Hellfire. I think that would be blasphemous in there.”

Nancy hums her agreement.

“We’ve got one!” Robin announces.

You open your eyes to see Max holding a royal blue dress that accentuates your curves and feels silky smooth against your skin. You wrinkle your nose at them.

“It doesn’t go,” you say.

“With what?” Max asks.

“My song!”

“Oh, you’re right,” Robin says.

“Fine, fine,” Max says. She puts the dress back in the closet and starts to dig through your drawers.

“I hope there are no sex toys in here,” Robin says as she joins Max.

You roll your eyes as Nancy touches up your eyeliner.

“Jeans,” Nancy says as she works. “She should wear jeans and a t-shirt.”

“That’s what she wears every day,” Robin says.

“Exactly,” you and Nancy say at the same time.

“Okay, fine,” Robin acquiesces. “But what one?”

“Iron Maiden?” Max asks as she picks one out of the drawer. “There’s also Guns ‘n Roses, Black Sabbath, Metallica. Geez, any from this century?”

“Corroded Coffin,” you say. Max looks at you and grins.

“Where is it?” she asks.

“Top drawer.”

Robin and Max pick out the best jeans to go with your favorite tee. Nancy tells you to get dressed before she fixes your hair. She doesn’t do much, just spray a little product in it and tussle it up.

“Perfect,” she says.

 You pace back and forth backstage. You’re not exactly nervous. Not about the singing, anyway. About letting your feelings channel through you in this way. It was a vulnerability you’d never shared before. Even if the audience just thought you’d picked this song because you liked it, you and your friends knew the truth.

The girl on stage now is singing Madonna and you take deep breaths to settle yourself.

 “Hey.”

Nancy jumps at the voice in her ear. She turns her head to see Eddie sliding into the seat next to her. Her eyes widen comically, and Eddie raises an eyebrow at her.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here either, but do I look like a ghost or something?”

“What are you doing here?” Robin demands from the other side of Nancy. Someone in the crowd shushes her, but she doesn’t care. “You’re supposed to be at Hellfire.”

Eddie shrugs with a devious smile and Dustin plops down in the seat on the other side of him.

“His stupid campaign wiped us out in the first half hour,” Dustin says. “We remembered this was happening, so we figured we’d catch the last half.”

Max’s leg bounces nervously on Robin’s other side and Eddie notices the motion.

“What’s wrong, Red?” She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head at him. “Wait, where’s y/n?” he asks.

Robin leans in to whisper in Max’s ear. “Do we have time to warn her?”

“No,” Max whispers back. “She’s up next.”

“Maybe she won’t see with all the lights,” Nancy leans over to add.

Robin groans and drops her head in her hands.

The girl wraps up singing Papa Don’t Preach and the audience claps politely. The manager steps out on the stage and reads from a clipboard.

“Next up we have y/n y/l/n.”

Eddie’s jaw drops before a huge smile forms on his face. He was going to get to hear you sing again. Finally.

You step onstage and Eddie’s taken aback. He didn’t expect an elaborate outfit or anything of the sort but seeing you in a Corroded Coffin shirt took him by surprise.

The music begins and the notes tickle his brain. He knows this song. He knows that he knows it because of Chrissy, even if he can’t place it. Why would you choose this song?

You grip the mic tightly in your grip and lift it to your mouth.

“You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset. She's going off about something that you said, ‘cause she doesn't get your humor like I do.”

It’s Taylor Swift, Eddie recognizes. This confuses him even further. What was it you said about her music?

“I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night. I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like, and she'll never know your story like I do.”

You feel your confidence picking up as you keep going. Looking at the audience doesn’t seem like a good idea, so you keep your eyes vague as they move across the open space in front of you. It feels good to have a microphone in your hand.

“But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts. She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time.”

Eddie’s stunned to his seat. His jaw hangs open as he recalls what you said. It was like Taylor Swift took a page out of your diary and wrote a song about it. There was no mistaking what and who this song was about. Even for someone who knew how dense he could be at times.

“If you could see that I'm the one who understands you. Been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

The grin that spreads across your face is freeing. You never knew being vulnerable could feel this good. You’re sharing your heart with the people in the audience and most of them have no idea.

“Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans, I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be. Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself, ‘Hey, isn't this easy?’ And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town, I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down. You say you're fine, I know you better than that. Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?”

All three of your friends in the audience are caught between watching you work the stage like you were born for it and looking over at Eddie to gauge his reaction. Nancy notices the way his hands are gripping the armrests and she doesn’t know what that means.

“She wears high heels, I wear sneakers. She's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time. If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me.”

You catch a flash of red hair in the audience, and it widens your smile. So that’s where your friends are out there. You’ll have to get a good look at them when singing the next part.

“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor, all this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

There’s a small instrumental break and you take the opportunity to lower the mic and look at the row your friends are in. But your eyes catch a very familiar pair of brown ones and your veins ice over and your stomach bottoms out. Eddie’s staring at you with those eyes and they’re enough to make you melt on the spot without all the lights on you adding to the heat. You try not to let it break your stride on stage. Spinning on the sole of your shoe, you face the back of the stage to compose your face and take a deep breath. You continue. The show must go on.

“Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night. I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry. And I know your favorite songs, and you tell me 'bout your dreams. Think I know where you belong, think I know it's with me.”

You realize it’s all out in the open now. The Band-Aid has been ripped off and you might as well finish the song off strong. It’s easy to find Eddie’s eyes in the audience, wide as they are, and you keep eye contact as you sing the next part.

“Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? Been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me.”

Eddie isn’t fully sure he’s awake. This has to be a dream, right? He’d pinch himself if he were able to move a muscle. Your eyes boring into his and baring your soul to him. There’s pressure on the back of his eyes and a fist clenching around his heart. How long have you been hurting over this?

“Standing by and waiting at your backdoor all this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me. You belong with me.”

Adrenaline is coursing through your body and you’re already worried about what’s going to happen when it wears off. You wish the song wouldn’t end so you don’t have to leave the stage and deal with whatever comes after.

“You belong with me. Have you ever thought just maybe, you belong with me? You belong with me.”

The cheers and applause are white noise to you. There’s only one other person in the room and he hasn’t moved a muscle; not even on his shocked face.

You give the crowd the best smile you can before exiting the stage. You drop the mic on a table and find the most isolated corner of the backstage that you can. Resting your head against the wall and taking big, deep breaths is all you can focus on.

Hands land gently on your shoulders, but you still jump. You spin around quickly and come face to face with the one person you no longer knew how to talk to. His big brown eyes are wide and glassy. He’s never resembled a baby cow more than he does in this moment. His mouth keeps opening and closing, as if he wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. That makes two of you.

“I didn’t know,” he finally says.

You close your eyes and nod. “I know. I didn’t want you to.”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s not, um. That’s not what I meant.” He squeezes his eyes closed and licks over his lips. “I didn’t know. But she did.”

Your brow pinches in confusion and you shake your head. “I don’t understand.” The last thing you thought would be happening right now is Eddie trying to explain something to you.

“When I broke up with Chrissy.” Eddie sees the wince on your face at her name and it breaks his heart. How had he never noticed before? “She knew I loved you. She said she knew from day one. That’s why I didn’t text you right after I did it. I needed to think. About how true it was.”

“And?” The word barely squeaks out of you. Every nerve in your body was on edge, awaiting his response.

“After that?” Eddie gestures to the stage. “How could I have any doubt?”

His hand cups the back of your head gently and brings your mouth against his. His other hand snakes around your waist and your arms automatically come up to encircle his neck. It’s a gentle kiss, but it gets across all the emotions floating between the two of you. Relief, joy, love, excitement, fear, to name a few.

Eddie’s lips dance across yours again and again. You pull him closer, and he gets the hint, his tongue coming out to glide across your bottom lip. You happily part your lips for him.

“Y/n y/l/n….y/n y/l/n…y/n y/l/n?”

Eddie finally realizes your name is being called and pulls back from your lips. You whine and go to chase them, but Eddie chuckles and points towards the stage.

“Babe, I think you won,” he says.

You grin, never taking your eyes off him. You cup his jaw and lean in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Oh, I know I did.”

[vaxieth]

because something really did ask, have a much too long post about my thoughts on laudna’s individual dynamics with the rest of bells hells.

under the cut because it’s almost 3000 words.

laudna/imogen

i struggle to find something to say about imogen and laudna that hasn’t already been said a million times before. the core concept—the thesis—of their arcs, together and separately, is choice. so much of their backstories are defined by helplessness. laudna was chosen and killed because she happened to look like someone else, she was resurrected because she happened to be there. imogen’s mother left, she was burdened with powers she didn’t understand and meant constant pain and isolation. so, they make sure to constantly emphasize that the other person has a choice in everything. imogen tells laudna she only has to come back if she wants to, even though it would have devastated her to lose laudna forever. laudna tells imogen that the gods can’t control her, that no matter what her “destiny” is, if she wants, they can leave and live in a little cottage and raise horses together. the way they love each other unconditionally is all the more incredible given how cruel the world was to them for so long. laudna’s “you make me better” is true for both of them. they give each other a place to be vulnerable and feel all their messiest, worst feelings because they know the other one won’t judge them. they’ll support each other no matter the choices they make.

something i’ve mentioned quite a few times but never gone in depth about is that imogen and laudna do have a fairly significant age difference, and i do think that affects their dynamic. on the one hand, they both have a bit of arrested development—imogen due to her isolation from the rest of gelvaan from 18-26, laudna because she died at 20. on the other, laudna has so much more life experience than imogen. she spent almost 30 years traveling and interacting with the world even if was mostly people trying to kill her, maybe even because of that. the “laudna is imogen’s aunt/mother/older sister” takes were obviously ridiculous, but laudna does canonically look at imogen and see someone young who she wants to protect in a way she never was. she said as much to fcg after the gnarlrock fight. laudna acts as imogen’s rock, her tether if you will, a lot of the time, and part of the reason she can counterbalance imogen’s anxiety is because of the experience that comes with age. for example, during their conversation in episode 49, laudna is able to stay more “rational” and level-headed even when imogen is scared and overwhelmed. 

one of my other favorite things about them, specifically from laudna’s point of view, is that with a few exceptions (the gnarlrock fight, her jealousy of frida), she doesn’t seem insecure about their relationship. again, during episode 49, laudna mentions that she knows they haven’t talked in a while, but she didn’t worry because they “transcend words.” she didn’t need outside assurance from imogen because she felt confident in their love for each other. something i love about that episode 39-49 period is that they didn’t interact a lot, but when they did, they slipped right about in the same kind of intimacy they’d always had—imogen holding launda’s hand when they went into her dream together, laudna’s protectiveness of imogen after she interacted with ludinus. but anyway—that confidence is why i believe the transition from friends to lovers was so easy for laudna. laudna’s unsure of herself, of delilah and what she might do, but she’s absolutely not unsure of the love between her and imogen. that’s why as soon as imogen tells her she’s not a bad person, that she wants to be with laudna in that way, she lets herself embrace it entirely.

in conclusion: they invented romance, they’re the best canon pairing critical role has ever had and one of the best dynamics in general, etc., etc.

laudna/orym

oh my god, WHERE to begin? i feel like my take on their dynamic is slightly controversial. at the very least, i get more push back from people when i post about it than anything else, so let me start with this: orym cares deeply about laudna, i will never dispute that. however, orym is uncomfortable with laudna and has been since the very beginning of the campaign. she’s his friend and he recognizes her beautiful heart and resilient spirit, but he’s uncomfortable with her appearance and her messages in his head, with her macabre humor and her deadness. he can’t reconcile that laudna his friend and laudna the dead woman can’t be separated. laudna’s deadness is a part of her, one laudna embraces. orym, for better or worse, is “normal.” he grew up with a loving family and he had a husband and a career. will and derrig’s deaths were an unbelievable tragedy but one that never challenged his place within the status quo. (sidenote: i’ve always wondered if part of orym’s discomfort with laudna come from the fact that her proximity to death is a reminder of the resurrections will and derrig never got.) he sees himself as a follower, someone that doesn’t stand out, then there’s laudna, who does nothing but stand out. 

something i find fascinating is that orym is the first person to find out laudna’s backstory, and it affects him so much he can’t sleep that night and takes a point of exhaustion. he even explicitly recognizes the dehumanization she’s gone through and how laudna’s relationship with puppets like pate and sashimi mirror that. yet, he still never apologizes for trying to disguise her appearance, something without even asking. yes, i get it’s tactical and for “safety” (though that argument falls a bit flat for me when there’s also a glowing rock person and a fully conscious automaton in the group, but whatever), but it still hurts laudna. even beyond that, orym always qualifies his friendship with laudna to other person, making some mention of how she’s dead-looking and isn’t that crazy, wow, almost as if he wants some validation that it—laudna—is weird (one he, interestingly, rarely ever gets, given how enraptured most of the other pcs, including guests, and even some npcs, are with her). he does this even in situations he absolutely doesn’t need to like, for example, when maeve says laudna “looks cooler than i thought.” all this just sucks. it’s not that the love isn’t there, it is. it just isn’t unconditional, and laudna deserves better than that.

finally: the delilah in the room. no, it isn’t orym’s “fault” delilah is back. yes, he was also having an extremely bad time during the bor’dor fight and it wasn’t his “responsibility” to save laudna from herself, but laudna is orym’s friend. he listened to laudna tell him the trauma delilah put her through, he fought through hell to save laudna from her, and still nodded because part of him thought maybe delilah could help him and that was selfish. the fight against ludinus is important to of the bells, but for orym, it’s personal. it’s been his mission for six years. meanwhile, laudna is the one with the least enthusiasm about this. she has no connection to the gods. in fact, she actively thinks they dislike her, but he’s willing to sacrifice not just his safety, but the safety of her and all his friends for a cause they never set out to fight for.

in conclusion: i want to put them in a salad mixer together and watch them go around and around and around and around and around, then let them out to scream at each other a little.

laudna/ashton

if i had to explain laudna and ashton’s dynamic in one word, it would be “projection.” i adore their relationship, it’s one of my top 5 c3 dynamics, but oh my god, so much projection, and it’s so interesting because of that. ashton thinks he understands laudna, but in reality, he doesn’t at all. i’m an absolute sucker for characters that look very different on the surface but in reality are much more similar than they know, and ashton and laudna are that to a tee. they are very much narrative parallels especially regarding their feelings of “brokenness” and how their traumas are physical, visual parts of themselves, but the ways they diverge are almost more interesting.

certain people have said that her conversations with ashton are the only time laudna is “honest” or that, at the very least, she’s more honest with him than she is with anyone else, and i couldn’t disagree more. laudna can be a joyful, optimistic person and deeply traumatized with a core anger she hasn’t truly processed. laudna is a high-charisma character, and in my opinion, part of how that manifests is her ability to adapt her demeanor to the person she’s talking to. she speaks gently to imogen the same way she matches chetney’s hyperactive energy when they go sky-sailing. of course when she’s with ashton, who makes no effort to hide his anger and bitterness and doesn’t want her to be soft, she isn’t. none of these laudnas are more “real” than the others, they’re all laudna. what those people, and ironically, ashton themself, don’t get, or won’t let himself get, is that all those things can be true at once.

with ashton specifically, i don’t think they want to believe that because then they’d have to admit that growth and healing is a real possibility because anger is so much easier to deal with. people talk most about orym’s choices during the bor’dor fight most, but i’m fascinated by ashton’s as well. i wouldn’t be surprised if there was a part, no matter how small, that wanted laudna to break, to prove to himself that he was right and laudna was just as broken and fucked-up as them. so, laudna killing bor’dor was almost vindication, evidenced by their “what have i done?” “nothing i haven’t done.” exchange afterwards.

i don’t want this to sound like ashton doesn’t care about launda, they do. ashton cares about her so much, and besides imogen and fearne, is the most unabashedly into laudna’s aesthetic. i love how much they love all the weird shit she does. i love how protective ashton is of laudna, especially during battles and their willingness to go above and beyond for her—he carried laudna when she was dead despite his chronic pain without complaining once and were willing to make a deal with hexum after going through an entire museum heist to repay their debt. i love the moments when ashton sees how much laudna is struggling and tells her, as gently as he can, to take a moment and do what she can to ground herself. i love that when laudna way too dramatically assumes they kidnapped imogen, their response is “that’s very fair.” it’s all wonderful, and i love them.

in conclusion: I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AND I WANT TO LOCK THEM IN A ROOM AND FORCE THEM TO TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS FOR HOURS.

laudna/fcg

laudna and fcg have been getting more attention in the past few days for obvious reasons and that has me rubbing my hands together maniacally because even though they have very little actual interaction, the subtext is delicious. 

besides ashton, fcg might be the character laudna parallels the most, especially their struggle with their humanity (if they’re even human at all), which isn’t helped by the constant dehumanization they face from outsiders, including the almost continuous comments they get when they meet someone new. people look at launda and see a horror while they look at fcg and see a novelty (he’s a robot with personality??), and those both suck. i think, for fcg, laudna is an uncomfortable reflection of himself because everything they’re afraid is true about themself is true about laudna. finding out they had a soul was such an important moment for his character (also remember his early campaign habit of calling other people “soul-touched folks”). as a hollow one, who knows if laudna even has a soul. if i’m honest, fcg seems to think less of laudna than the rest of the party (see: him calling her a “former person,” his speech before casting turn undead including, “no offense to laudna but can you please shine your light and wipe these evil, dead souls off the face of this flat planet?”) and that’s probably why. they have such strict ideas about “good,” which has become “godly,” and “wrong,” (“ungodly”), and within that framework, everything seemed to point to laudna as “ungodly,” which is why their empathy towards her is lacking. 

the biggest conflict between fcg and laudna right now is obviously their feelings on the gods. the changebringer brought fcg purpose and tangibly helps them on a daily basis. of course they want to share this incredible thing with everyone they meet, especially his friends. yet, time-and-time again, the world has shown laudna the gods don’t seem to care about her. before someone says anything, pike resurrecting laudna doesn’t automatically mean she has to trust the gods. clerics and paladins spent 30 years running her out of towns for existing and trying to kill her in the name of their gods. if the circumstances were different, there’s a good chance fcg could have been one of those people. for fcg, the world is black-and-white. for laudna, it’s all gray. laudna was able to have a conversation with imogen about the ruby vanguard’s message and the purpose of the gods because she understands the need to question things and thinks that’s a good thing even if she doesn’t agree with the conclusions. fcg’s not there yet, and until he is, their friendship with laudna will never be able to progress past where it is now.

in conclusion: please have a conversation, maybe even two or three. it’d be so good for fcg to learn the world’s incredible nuances and for laudna to see how faith in the gods can be an empowering force for good, not just something beyond her grasp.

laudna/fearne

out of all launda’s dynamics, this is the one i desperately want more of. we’ve gotten so little! almost all their moments are interactions between the three witches that tend to center imogen (making the red-string friendship bracelets and comforting imogen after she talked with relvin come to mind) OR center imogen and fearne’s mutual appreciation for laudna’s… everything. one of my favorite about fearne is that, like imogen, she doesn’t think laudna is gross and creepy, she thinks laudna is gorgeous and charming without any caveats. even ashton, who also loves laudna’s laudnaness, tends more towards “yeah, you’re disgusting and THAT’S why it’s great.”

the other main part of their dynamic i want to sink my teeth into is the coin-toss, more specifically fearne’s guilt over the coin toss. regardless of whether you think fearne lied (i personally find that headcanon FASCINATING but to each their own), she clearly feels so many emotions about having to pick whether to save laudna and orym that she hasn’t even begun to unpack. one of the few sole moments we’ve gotten of them was in episode 42 when laudna asked fearne to help teach her to cast fireball, and in it, fearne, unprompted, blurts out, “how’s it feel being alive again?” almost immediately. she also apologizes to laudna, says they’ll fight any piece of delilah that’s still in there, and tells her, “i missed you terribly for that moment in time.” even when laudna gives her the chance to make the conversation light-hearted, fearne stays so genuine, which is all the more-noteworthy because she’s usually so flippant and almost always keeps her real feelings close to her chest. 

some other examples of fearne’s guilt include: the 4sd where ashley said part of why she was so protective over imogen during their separation arc was that she couldn’t bear having to tell laudna anything happened to her and just this past episode when fearne’s protectiveness after laudna made her only cast first-level cure wounds on fcg after they cast turn undead.

in conclusion: PLEASE LET THEM INTERACT MORE. THERE’S SO MUCH JUICY POTENTIAL AND I WANT TO SEE IT EXPLORED.

laudna/chetney

i don’t have that much to say about them except that their dynamic is absolutely delightful. i love that we’ve gotten to see more of it in recent episodes, and i hope that continues. 

chetney exists at an interesting place between orym’s genuine discomfort and fearne and imogen’s complete enchantment with laudna’s undeadness. he is sometimes grossed out, but he also seems to accept it as a thing about laudna without too much judgment, or at least, that “judgment” is light-hearted in a way orym’s or even fcg’s isn’t.

i love that they’re the characters with the most life experience (even if laudna is technically the fourth oldest, fcg only has two years of memory and fearne is a 100+ but spent 99% of that time in one place) but also embrace being “childish” and silly together, like the entire sky-sail sequence! 

in conclusion: *gently holds* i just think they’re neat!

that’s all! if you read this whole thing, you get my eternal love and gratitude. thank you.

[always-andromeda]

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Professor!Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 3268

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + dark academia + “I can see how badly you want this, so I'm going to make sure you get it.”

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ I’ve loved this man literally since I was thirteen…so it’s inevitable that I’d be writing something absolutely fucking filthy for him in my twenties…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), gaps in age and power, mutual masturbation, little bit of panty sniffing, a singular use of Y/N (I'm sorry, I hate it too but it was necessary), usage of pet names (sweetheart), general manipulation, slight praise kink, obvious disclaimer: the dynamic in this fic is just that, fictional, and should not be practiced in real life!! let me know if any other warnings are needed!!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

You’d rarely had luck receiving any sort of grace from your professors. Sure, there were a select few that only wanted to see you succeed. However, more often than not you seemed to encounter sadists who decided to take their kinks out on exhausted college students. But you were convinced that Professor Winchester wouldn’t be like that.

For starters, he’d always been challenging but never malicious. Despite the fact that you’d registered for his Norse Mythology course with the assumption that it would be easy college credits, you quickly learned that his assignments were difficult. Every week there seemed to be about a hundred pages worth of reading, frequent essays, and an emphasis on class discussion.

Oh, did he love those class discussions. While most were less than enthusiastic to contribute to lengthy examinations of Eddic poetry at eight in the morning, Professor Winchester seemed to be none the wiser of this.

He was always squinting over his thin wire framed glasses, surveying the class. He’d stand at his desk, brushing his long hair behind his ear while looking over papers. When he’d listen he’d purse his lips and tilt his head, expression rife with genuine interest. In all of these moments, he was the most gorgeous. But more than that, you were fascinated with his mind.

Professor Winchester knew this material like the back of his hand; was able to pull references and quotes from various pieces of literature at the drop of a hat. He was the only professor who could ever give notes that were actually helpful on essays and he’d always been generous with handing out extra credit assignments. Which is what you aimed to obtain on this visit to his office.

You looked through the glass of his office door and saw him inside, working diligently at a dark oak wood desk. Taking a deep breath, you turned the doorknob and entered.

The hinges squeezed but Winchester seemed so fixated on whatever was before him that he only raised a finger, indicating for you to wait. So you did. Awkwardly. You rocked slightly on your heels, your stomach starting to twist in time with the movement. God, he looked like a dream lit by the stained glass banker's lamp as he graded papers.

In another world you could see him coming home from a long day, his body warm behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Smelling like black coffee and pencil shavings, you'd adoringly close your eyes, taking in his scent and ask him how his day went. He'd hum in contentment when resting his chin on your head; you're his rock, his soulmate, the reason he stays sane despite dealing with probably hundreds of students and the frustrating dance of academic bureaucracy. 

It's a fantasy that broke the second Winchester glanced up and said with a hint of surprise, "Miss L/N! Come in, have a seat," he nodded towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

Relieved that he can pick you out among the sea of students from his classroom, you move forward until you reach the chair. You set your bag down on the floor and settle into the worn leather of the seat as Winchester eyes you expectantly.

"What can I do for you this afternoon?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek. "Actually, I was hoping that you could help me out with something."

"Oh, what might that be?" he furrowed his brow.

"Um..." you started. "I'm sure you noticed that I didn't do too hot on the last exam."

"Ah, I did," he said simply.

"You did?"

"Yeah, I was surprised, actually." Winchester opened up one of his desk drawers and sorted through some files before pulling out a packet you recognized as the exam you'd taken the week before. "You seem so engaged in class discussion and you've been doing well on everything else. This...this felt rushed. What happened?"

The soft expression of concern on his face only increased your shame. In all honesty, you'd wasted half the exam time away staring at him. He'd worn a red sweater over a cream colored button up that day. Then he'd rolled up the sleeves before handing out the exam papers. It felt stupid to admit that you'd been distracted by his goddamn forearms.

But you had been. You couldn't resist watching him as he'd circled the room, keeping an eye out for cheating. With his arms folded behind his back, you got the best look at the back of him. His long legs clad in khaki. Strong, tanned forearms corded with prominent veins. Shoulder blades pushed back confidently as he walked. Everything about his solid stature had your mind far, far away.

You'd been good at making sure your daydreams wouldn't get the better of you. But this time, before you knew it, Winchester was glancing down at his watch and announcing that you had fifteen minutes left for exam time. You had no choice but to rush through the rest of it, writing down answers that hardly even made sense just to fill in blanks.

Now those answers laid before you, condemning you to a low D– that dragged down your entire grade.

"I honestly couldn't tell you, Professor. I thought I studied enough but I guess not."

Though you'd attempted to laugh off his concern, Winchester obviously wasn't budging. "But these are rookie mistakes. Number fifteen for example. Where do the gods live?"

"Easy. Asgard."

"Right, but here you marked down the answer for Valhalla," he slid the paper around so you could look at the question.

Sure enough, there it was, your frantic pencil marks filling in the bubble for the incorrect answer. Damn.

"And that's just on the multiple choice questions," Winchester continued, flipping through the pages. "You barely followed any of the directions for the long answer questions. Your response to the short essay portion was a paragraph too short. And it was too unfocused."

Unfocused is right, Professor Winchester.

"I hate to say it...but I was a little disappointed."

The sting of tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. So you cleared your throat and blinked them back quickly. Voice trembling, you answered quickly, "I'm sorry, Professor. I wasn't on my game and I thought I'd pay you a visit so I could plead my case. I'm willing to do any kind of extra credit assignment. I don't care how much work it is. I'll do anything to fix my grade because I really want to do well in your class and–"

Winchester raised a hand, urging you to stop. Then he spoke, "Listen, I can see how badly you want this. So I'm going to make sure you get it. Just...let me think."

With that, Winchester rose from his seat and began to gather the papers that littered the surface of his desk. He stacked them neatly before opening a different drawer and laying them inside. After he closed the drawer, he made his way around the desk. You tried not to look at him as he made his way around the room, especially not when you felt his hand brush against the back of your chair. But you couldn't not notice when he drew the shade on his door's window and closed the blinds to his window, leaving the room dim save for the yellow light of his desk lamp.

Once he'd made his round, he returned to his chair and rolled back, leaving a massive gap between himself and the edge of his desk.

Then he did something else you didn't expect.

He patted the wood and said, "Come. Sit on my desk. Let me look at you."

You almost wavered on the direction when he cleared his throat expectantly. That brought you to your feet and compelled you to settle waveringly before him.

With his lips in a tight line, Winchester studied you. He tilted his head every few seconds, letting his eye flicker from your uncertain expression to your body. You sat up a little straighter in an attempt to satisfy his observation of you.

You weren't quite sure what he was doing, but it made you nervous; made you vulnerable in a way you weren't used to.

"I may have one extra credit opportunity that I can offer. Special. Just for you."

"Yeah? What do you want me to do?"

"Well, you can start by spreading your legs."

Your eyes went wide. "Professor Winchester, you're not–"

He cut you off quickly, "First, after office hours, you may call me Sam. Second, I'm not going to touch you. I'm simply asking you to give me a– a presentation," he decided.

"What kind of presentation?" you asked.

Your feigned innocence made the man chuckle softly. "The kind of presentation I'm sure you give in your dormitory bedroom every night."

There wasn't an ounce of jesting on his face, but still you played dumb. "I have no idea what you're referring to, Sam." His name felt foreign yet familiar on your tongue. Probably because you'd whispered it many times before in the exact scenario he'd described.

"I'd hoped you'd tell me the truth about why you were so distracted during your exam. But since you haven't been forthcoming, I guess I have to spell it out for you, haven't I?"

You swallowed hard and blinked nervously.

"You thought I wouldn't notice, did you?" he chuckles again. "It's hard not to notice when one of your students, especially one so beautiful, is practically drooling all over their table."

The scraps of flattery were evidently working on you as Sam smiled when you fiddled with your fingers in your lap as your skin got all warm and tingly. So he kept going.

"Besides, you're too intelligent to do this terribly on something you should've aced. Maybe you wanted to fail it. You wanted to get my attention, didn't you?"

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to waste your time, I was just–"

"You weren't wasting my time. Wasting your time is continuing this pointless back and forth when you could instead be proving yourself."

"Proving myself?"

"Yes. Spread those legs...and earn your grade," he ordered.

Breathing in and out slowly, you did what you were asked. The knots in your stomach told you this was wrong. But the smile of approval that slowly grew on Sam's lips said that this was exactly what you both needed. 

You'd never been more embarrassed to be wearing a skirt. One the fabric pooled around your hips, it only framed the damp patch on your underwear. Perhaps part of you had wanted something like this to happen. Because your pussy was already pulsing after simply being observed behind the cotton curtain that soaked up her anticipation.

"Very good," Sam breathed out.

"What do I do now?" you asked.

"Just...play with her. Show me what you like to do to make her happy."

You nodded, then pursed your lips as you thought. If you were going to present to him...you might as well go all out. So you shifted each of your thighs around, pulling down your underwear until your bare ass was planted on the desk and the garment was caught on one of your ankles. You lifted your left and held it out gently, the panty hanging in the air a little below Sam's face.

"Take them," you said. "Visual aid."

He smirked lazily at the offering before pulling them over your shoe, being careful not to actually touch you. Sam balled them up before bringing them to his nose and slowly breathing in the scent. You could tell he enjoyed it thoroughly as he let out a deep sigh from within his chest.

"With how wet these are...it's good to know you were prepared even for a surprise presentation. I knew there was a reason you're my favorite."

His words went straight to your cunt as a few drops of slick leaked from your hole and landed on the dark wood beneath you.

"Go on," Sam urged, gaze flickering to the drops of you on his desk. "She's waiting. And so am I."

You began to treat yourself with the same level of care as you did when you were alone. One of your hands reached up your shirt and you cupped one of your tits. You kneaded the flesh for a few seconds before focusing on the nipple, pinching it until it pebbled and poked through your shirt. The action made your breathing turn ragged. 

You finally let your other hand travel south, bringing warmth to the soft skin of your thighs. Wanting better access to yourself, you pulled your leg up, resting a foot on the desk itself. Then you reclined back and let your fingers roam where they wanted.

Using two fingers, you spread your outer lips, only exposing yourself to Sam’s scrutiny even further. The cool air hitting your most vulnerable part, you shivered as goosebumps erupted across your skin. You looked up at him, gauging his approval of your performance.

“You’re doing so well already, keep going,” he encouraged, hardly concealing the arousal that clung thickly to his tone.

You took the praise with pride. It emboldened you enough to slip your two fingers between your folds to gather up some of the slick. You couldn’t help but feel mortified as you involuntarily gasped when your digits brushed slightly against your clit.

Sam let a quick puff of air out his nose. “Sensitive?”

“Mhmmm,” you whined.

“Bet you can’t even touch that pretty clit directly without crying, huh?”

You nodded.

“Then be gentle. I want you to last for me.”

You took that to mean that he didn’t want you touching yourself there yet. So instead you switched to focusing on your entrance. It wasn’t often that you went straight for penetration. Rarely did it bring the kind of relief you craved.

But you had the feeling that Sam would want to see it; to see your fingers filling yourself up and stretching you out.

With your fingers practically pruning already, you pushed one in ever so slowly. It took a second to adjust to the slight pressure, but still you began to carefully pump. The slick squelch only intensified when you slipped another one in and sped up your movements.

Though the pressure increased and built up tension in your belly, you could already tell it wasn’t going to go anywhere. You bucked your hips pathetically against your own hand, trying to get deep enough to hit your g-spot. But no matter how far you tried to probe, it was useless. Your fingers simply weren’t long enough.

Your eyes went wind, catching sight of something that most likely could reach that spot inside you. While you’d been fucking yourself, your professor had undone the button and the zipper on his pants and slipped himself out. There he sat, your panties in his hand and wrapped around the thick length of his cock. The angry red tip poked up and out of the fabric with each slow thrust. And you could already tell based on how long his strokes were that you’d most likely be able to feel him poking against your belly from inside you. The idea made you moan and throw your head back.

Sam swiftly reprimanded you, “Ah, remember your eye contact. I want you to look at me.”

Shame spread over your body. What the fuck was going on? Were you really fingering yourself on his desk right next to papers that he was surely going to return to students? Was Sam really fisting his own cock with your underwear? And were you actually enjoying this?

“Sweetheart,” Sam’s self control faltered slightly with the name. But it grabbed your attention nonetheless. “I need you to look at me. Let me look into your eyes when you make yourself come on my desk, alright?”

This was about more than fixing your grade. This was about pleasing him…by pleasing yourself. And as you returned his look, you were all in.

Under his watchful, half lidded, hazel eye you allowed yourself to focus on your aching clit which laid in wait like a pearl beneath the hood of skin covering it. Carefully, you pulled that hood back before lightly spreading some of your slick with a finger. You let the skin settle back in place over the sensitive nub before going straight to work.

You began to rub slow circles on the hood and finally properly moaned. It took only a few seconds for the muscle memory of your nightly ritual to kick in as the pleasure started to mount. Finally, all of that pressure in your core had some actual weight to it; a weight that was already beginning to roll in shallow waves over your whole being.

"There you go, sweetheart. Let me hear you loud and clear. Don't wanna miss a single sound from you," Sam groaned and you caught how the grip he had on himself tightened, how his pace quickened.

While rolling your hips against your hand, you pulled up a side of your shirt, exposing even more of yourself to him. Now he could easily see one of your tits rise and fall with your staggered breaths. He could see how the ball of fat dimpled under your fingertips as you squeezed and pulled at your hardened nipple.

Both sources of simulation had you whimpering breathlessly, "Sam, I-I'm so close– Let me come, please?"

Sam glared and asked through gritted teeth, "That's not my name. What do you call me in class?"

"Professor?"

Sam nodded darkly.

You took the cue quickly and begged helplessly, "Please, professor, please let me come–" you were cut off by the sound of your pleasure starting to push you over the edge. 

Sam left you teetering, staring right over the border of this boundary. That boundary being an ethical nightmare that you had no clue how you'd navigate. But you wanted to be good for him; you craved his approval.

And thankfully, Sam gave it as he groaned, "There you go, good girl. You can come, you've got permission."

With that, you arched off the desk and burst with glorious clarity. A thin stream of your arousal drooled from your entrance as you rubbed yourself through the enormous implosions and the small aftershocks that followed. Your head was heavy with the fog of pleasure and you wanted to hang it back, give it a break.

But still, you were determined to keep your eyes on him, even as you pulled your fingers away from your trembling cunt and stuck them in your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the wrinkled digits, soaking up every bit of yourself that you could.

Any sort of professionalism Sam had been trying to maintain up until that point shattered completely when he rolled his chair forwards. Closer to you now, you looked down into his soft eyes and watched how his normally objective stare went personal; emotional. He looked at you with the kind of admiration that made your heart flutter with pride.

He took his hand, placed it on your knee, and spread your legs further. His touch was so light, so soft that you could help feeling electricity dance along your spine.

"I thought you said you wouldn't touch me?" you whispered, only a hint of a smug smile tugging at your lips.

Choosing his words as carefully as ever, he explained, "That was before I decided that you needed some of my...guidance."

[thursdaygxrls]

Seeing It Out (‘Seeing Her’ Part Two)

summary — george weasley might (maybe) have a small crush. too bad she’s totally oblivious.

paring — george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer — i don’t own harry potter property, i don’t own this gif, and i don’t edit because i’m lazy. also, argyle & dicken’s isn’t real, i made it up.

warnings — everyone is stupid. maybe ooc.

read part one here!

She noticed him staring at her in potions. Well, she never proved it was her he was looking at, but she had a suspicion. Every time she would look up to transcribe the notes or recipes Snape described, she could see a mass of tangerine hair fly forward just a few desks ahead of her. She didn’t think anything of it at first. Why would she? But then she noticed him staring at her out of the corner of her eye before class one day. That look alone made her realize two things:

1. The looks she thought she may have been receiving were no coincidence and

2. The one staring was George Weasley

“I’m scared. Seriously, he’s planning something,” she confided as she and her friend, Meredith, began to stroll from dinner to their dorm, “He’s been watching me for a few weeks now. Something is going on.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Meredith giggled.

“I’m serious! When the Weasley twins set their sights on you, you’re dead in the water,” she guffawed.

“Or…” Meredith trailed off with a smile.

“Or?” She turned to her with an inquisitive look.

“Perhaps you tickled his fancy.” Meredith shimmied her shoulders suggestively.

“I tickled who and what?” Her eyes widened as she felt a laugh bubble at the back of her throat.

“I’m saying that maybe he keeps staring because he fancies you,” Meredith explained.

“George Weasley?” Her eyes crinkled as her grin widened slightly, “You’re mad.”

“Not mad, intuitive,” Meredith tapped her head, “You’re cute! You’re smart! Everyone in this bloody school ought to be head over heals for you!” She shook her almost comedically.

“Alright!” She laughed, “I get it! I’m fabulous!”

“Good,” Meredith said with a large smile, “Now, think about talking to him.”

“We haven’t disposed of the ‘the twins are going to put fireworks in my pillowcase’ theory,” she shook her head.

“I’ve disposed of it. It’s gone.” Meredith pretended to throw something before wiping her hands together, “But seriously, talk to him if you’re interested, y’know? He’s not too bad on the eyes – and I doubt he’s all too evil.”

“I guess I’ll think about it,” she shrugged, “How’s Emma going?”

“It’s – shit, I left it in the Great Hall,” Meredith groaned, “Wait here for me, alright?”

“I’ll wait an eternity for you!” She called after the girl.

“Put those moves on someone else, would you?” Meredith winked before disappearing down the hall.

George Weasley. He was popular, maybe not as much as his twin brother, but he was one-half of the dynamic pranking duo. She’d seen them before; they watched people, and so did she. They always observed their prey before attacking — but their targets were never just innocent bystanders. She’d like to think she was innocent. She’d like to think a lot of things, though, and not all of them were true.

Meredith was taking a while. Was she right? Was he interested in her? The thought seemed silly, foreign. It was like a honey bee finding a hidden daisy in a room full of tulips. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought. It was a nice thought. A flash of orange alerted her to the balcony in front of her. Funnily enough, standing at the edge, staring out to the floor below them, were the Weasley twins – and George was staring at her.

It was curious. This was the first time they’d ever connected eyes, yet it felt entirely natural. Maybe it was because she’d stared a thousand people in the eyes, or maybe this was different. She looked at him, and he looked at her, and for a moment, time was able to exist on a different plane entirely. God, was it cheesy. She’d read about this before; the lovers’ first meeting. Wait, lovers? They aren’t lovers, they don’t even know each other, besides – oh God. In a flash, something fell from George’s hand, flying down from the balcony and directly onto poor Professor Flitwick’s head. The thing burst ceremoniously and a powder fizzled around the man. He batted at himself in confusion as she looked on at him with horror. His hair was entirely green.

What the bloody hell was that?

She clutched her copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray — the copy that had just been knocked from her hands — in her sweaty palms. Today had been going great, spectacular even. Her dreams had wiped any memory of possible crushes from her mind. She woke up early, found a matching pair of socks on her first try, and was ready to pick up a new book. Meredith had shoed her out of the dorms when she attempted to wake the girl; she preferred sleep over food. So, it was just her and Dorian who’d made it out to the stairs when she was pushed (nudged?) to the ground.

By George Weasley, of course.

She’d wondered if this was a part of his scheme for a moment. It would be the perfect time to catch her off guard — bright and early before she’d even wiped the crust from her eyes. But then she saw his face and the shock that drew over his features. He certainly didn’t mean to bump into her. At least, it didn’t seem like it.

They conversed in an awkward manner, but managed to hit one another only once more. The real issue was the end of the conversation:

“See you in potions, George!”

It was meant to be friendly, a sort of peace offering if he was still trying to pull off something dodgy. And, of course, it was friendly enough until she realized she had never talked to him before. She sounded like a stalker. A bad stalker at that. She let her mind race as she rushed off to the Great Hall, hoping to not see the boy again before she got there.

It was a dragging, near exhausting wait until potions. Her nerves were so shot that, even if she calmed down, they would still leave a searing imprint under the surface of her skin. By lunch, she’d decided to try to calm herself. Surely he’d forget before then. Surely it would all resolve itself. Surely, she thought to herself as she pushed into the potions’ lab, there was–

He was sitting in her chair.

Meredith was late, unable to save her, and George was sitting at her table.

Her first move was to take cautious steps toward her destination. She knew well enough that this confrontation was unavoidable (or maybe she’d just built it up in her mind too much). She would just grit her teeth and bear it, though, because the only other alternative was to flee Hogwarts entirely.

“Hey!” He’d seen her, and she froze. She was only a step or two away from her seat, of course he saw her.

“Hi,” she responded with less grandeur. He stood in front of her, slicking his hands against his slacks as he smiled.

“Sorry about this morning,” his grin damn near sparkled, “I only do that sort of thing on the field usually.”

“Right,” she nodded. He was standing right in front of her seat, trapping it with his lanky body.

“Yeah,” his confidence stuttered momentarily, “Uh, your book. How is it?”

“Dorian Gray?” She questioned, receiving a nod, “Oh, it’s alright. A couple blokes doing a lot of talking.”

“Any puke?” George cocked his head.

“There’s blood,” she replied.

“Fluid is fluid,” he shrugged. There was another hesitation before he spoke again:

“I noticed you read a lot – muggle books, I mean. It’s interesting,” he stuck his hands in his pockets, “I was thinking about picking up a muggle book, but I don’t know where to start.”

So this was it. Weeks of stares and stilted interactions because of her obsession. She let out an audible sigh of relief. Any ounce of fear or tension drained from her body, and in its place, a peace rooted itself. Apparently, all it took to crack her shell was the mention of books.

“Oh, sure!” She spoke, her lips curling into a smile, “If you tell me what you fancy in a story I could find something you’d enjoy.”

“That’d be great,” he grinned, “Maybe I could tell you this weekend at Hogsmeade?”

“Hogsmeade?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah,” he perked up suddenly, “There’s that muggle book shop near the outside of town — Argyle and Dicken’s? You could help me find something. Maybe we can go for butterbear after?”

There was nothing Jane Austen could have done to prepare her for an offer like this. No romance novel she’d ever read could help her. She couldn’t reply with something witty, or cute, or sultry. She couldn’t wink or do something flirtatious. All she was capable of doing was giving him a near-dumbfounded look whilst attempting to close her partially agape mouth. George Weasley wanted a little more than just a recommendation.

“She’d love to.” A feminine voice spoke from behind her. Meredith, somewhat winded and somewhat late, swooped in beside her to press a metaphorical hand to her jaw.

“Love to,” she repeated, though a little less confident. George seemed to appreciate the answer anyways, giving a quick nod of greeting to Meredith before smiling back at the other girl.

“Outside the castle at noon this Sunday work?”

“It, yeah, yes, it would work.” She nodded vigorously.

“Wicked,” he chuckled lightly, “It’s a da–“

“Get to your seats.” Professor Snape’s deep voice commanded. She, as well as Meredith, wasted no time shuffling past the boy to their chairs. George moved, though, only after he hesitated a moment. The potions lesson began unceremoniously, and she couldn’t help but look over to Meredith as Snape’s monotonous voice consumed the classroom.

“What was that?” She asked, eyes still wide.

"That was you getting yourself a date." Meredith whispered her reply happily.

A date. With George Weasley – the same George Weasley she had thought to be plotting against her, or at least hoping for her downfall. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile as the lesson went on.

A date.

With George Weasley.

hey guys, quick little note: i’m going to be starting a tag list so it’s easier to let people know when i post. if you’re interested in joining, comment a 🐝 on this post so i know who to add. alright, love u guys, toodles!

[artists-ally]

{Flatline} OFC x Harvey Specter {Pt. 3)

Uh ohhhh guys it’s Pt. 3 🤭🤭🤭 I am so excited for this. It’s honestly one of my favorite things I’ve written and I hope you all agree. There is a poll at the end so make sure to vote for that <3 enjooyyyyy p.s. I hope this does good justice for this series.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Character Playlist

Word Count: 12,795

Warnings: language, angst, anxious thoughts, one singular mention of sexual h*r*ssm*nt in regards to Harvey’s actions with Claudia, smut 18+, the tiniest bit of food play, dom/sub dynamics, praise kink go brrr

***Italic sections indicate flashbacks***

Summary: The aftermath of Harvey breaking his promise to Claudia.

Tagging: @rosedpetal @maxdamax @ashcosmo

~~~~~~

HARVEY'S POV

My legs were numb. That sort of numbness when something happens that you can’t explain. It felt like my life just flashed before my eyes. That image of Claudia’s shaking lip… hearing her broken voice… I don’t think I’ll ever get it out of my fucking head. 

“Harvey, I requested those trades be made an hour ago. Do you wanna tell me why… Harvey?”

I could see Jessica in front of me, but I couldn’t hear a damn thing she said. 

“Harvey, what’s going on?” She closed the door, and I put a hand out to steady myself so I wouldn’t fall on the floor. “What happened?” “I fucked up,” I whispered. 

“Yeah, no shit. You tanked our only opportunity to get a leg up on this Gustoson case. You’re damn right you fucked up-”

“No no,” I sat on the arm of the chair. My hands began to shake so I folded them together. Jessica saw. 

“What the hell did you do?”

“I yelled at Claudia…”

She just blinked at me. “Is that seriously what you’re concerned about? Yelling at an associate? Okay, you yelled at an associate, what’s new? That might as well be in your job description.”

“No no no I didn’t just yell at her I threatened to do the one thing that I promised I would never do and now she’s gone. She left. I can’t- I don’t- I never meant to hurt her but she suggested that we file a motion to dismiss and I got so caught up in my anger about her accusing me of using her that I lost my-”

“Using her? Harvey, what is going on?” “I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Donna barged in. 

“Donna please don’t-”

“Harvey and Claudia have been ‘working together’ for the last month and a half, when in reality he has been a selfish, lying, arrogant brat who has crossed so many lines it’s beginning to look like a Rorschach Test.”

“You know?” I felt my heart suffocate myself. I thought I was gonna throw up.

“In all honesty Harvey, no I didn’t. Not until Claudia just broke down in the elevator and told me everything. I cannot believe that you would use her like that. For your own personal satisfaction are you out of your fucking mind?” “Harvey, what the hell is she talking about?” Jessica’s voice was full of hostility. 

“He thought that it would be a good idea to boost Claudia’s confidence by getting into her pants.”

“Donna it wasn’t-”

Jessica scoffed, covering her face. “What the hell is wrong with you? This has got sexual harassment written all over it, Havrey. Could you really be that delusional?”

“For fucks sake it wasn’t like that!” I screamed. Genuinely screamed and paced around. “I didn’t use her, not intentionally. God dammit I haven't been able to think clearly since the first day that I saw Claudia. She is an incredible lawyer and all I wanted to do was give her something else to focus on because she was afraid to be in a room with me. I just- all I wanted to do was help her find a little bit of confidence and oh my god this sounds so much worse when I say it outloud.”

Donna and Jessica exchanged a look while I slowly felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest and stomped on the floor with cleats. 

“Okay Harvey, sit down and tell us what happened,” Donna steered me away from putting a hole in the wall to my desk.

“I don’t even know, Donna.” “Well while you two enjoy going down memory lane, I’ll be fighting for our firm's life. If you two don’t get your shit together, and by you two I mean Harvey, then… I don’t even know then.”

She all but slammed the door on her way out, patrons on the other side sending worried glances our way. I turned my chair so they wouldn’t see me. 

“How long has this been going on?” Donna asked. 

I dug my nails into my skin. “Almost two months.”

“Two months? Harvey, how could you not tell me?” “Because I didn’t want to,” I admitted. “And partly because I kind of thought you already knew. You know, the whole ‘Donna superpower’ shit you do.”

“I know I can’t believe I missed it,” she took the chair in front of me. I glared at her so hard I thought I’d light that hair of hers on fire. “Okay bad time for a joke. So, bachelor, why don’t you start from the beginning. And please, I don’t need to know the dirty details, despite my curiosity. Claudia is like a little sister to me and I really don’t want to picture you and her and oh my god I already am. Ugh, please start talking so I don’t have to be tortured.”

So dramatic. I was good looking, and so was Claudia. Why wouldn’t anyone want to picture us together? Then my eyes snapped to the chair she was sitting on. Oh god. Donna was in the chair that I was the first time Claudia and I-

“Get up,” I blurted out, reaching for her and placing her in my desk chair. God dammit we used that one too. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

We sat down on the couch and I rubbed my strained eyes. Here goes nothing. 

“When Sheila first sent over the recruits from Harvard, I interviewed all of them. Except for one. There were thirteen associates but I only had twelve meetings set up. So I asked Louis if he was interviewing any of the newbies and he said just one. Obviously this person was some sort of idiot to be going to Louis instead of me, so I popped in.”

“Well, Claudia I think that you have some unbelievable potential at this firm and I’d just like to- Harvey, what are you doing here I am in the middle of an interview.”

“Oh I know, I just wanted to drop by and see how it was going.”

In front of Louis was this warm, chestnut brown head of sleek, silk like hair. She was wearing a lavender blouse and a black maxi skirt with a slit to the knee. She had on these black flats with pearls on them. Summer had just ended, and there was some remaining sunburn on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were surrounded by prominent lashes and eyebrows, a fine line of makeup between the two; lavender, to match the top. 

“It’s going great, now will you get the hell out and tend to your own interviews and stop barging in on my only one?”

“Harvey Specter,” I introduced, sticking out my hand. She looked from it over to Louis, who was just shooting me daggers. 

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?”“Louis, I’m not trying to woo your associate, I’m just introducing myself to her. We are kind of name partners, you know. It’s the courteous thing to do.”

Again, all she did was look at my hand before slowly standing up. I didn’t miss the way she tried to subtly wipe her hand on her skirt. 

“I’m Claudia. Claudia Martin.”

God dammit that was a pretty name. It sounded so sophisticated, so mature and would sound really nice next to mine. Or with mine. Harvey Specter and Claudia Martin. I don’t know why I thought of hearing or seeing ‘Claudia Specter’ one day, but I did. And I didn’t hate the way it sounded. 

“Welcome to Pearson Specter Litt,” I gave a nice smile. It was clear she was already intimidated to be here, I didn’t need to add to that fire. She barely looked me in the eye for two seconds, but those two seconds made my head spin. 

She had the most gorgeous eyes I think I’ve ever seen in my life. They were amber in the middle but had this ring of hazel around the outer rim. It was just… not something I’ve ever seen before. I didn’t want her to look away because I just wanted to keep looking at them.

And that blush… that I knew wasn’t her sunburn. Not the way it creeped up the side of her face, or at the base of her neck. 

Jesus Harvey, stop staring at her. You’re probably giving off major stalker vibes.

“Well I’ll be around if you need anything, Claudia. Don’t be shy,” I smiled, the best charming one I could. Her full lips were in a tight line, her fingers picking at each other before she sat back down with Louis.

“Okay so you sabotaged Louis’ meeting with Claudia and thought she was beautiful? Why didn’t you just say that?” Donna interrupted. 

“Didn’t you ask me to start from the beginning?” She snapped her lips closed. “So let me tell the goddamn story. Yes, I thought she was stunning. I mean, no one in their right mind would think otherwise. She is so pretty and so smart and twice the person I wish I could be. There is just something about her that I can’t shake from my memory.”

“Yeah we get it, you’re head over heels for Claudia. Now on with it I don’t have all day.”

I rolled my eyes. 

“That was the first time I met her. It wasn’t long after that she started working here when I talked to her again. She was just sitting at her desk, Griffin and whoever else crowded around the opposite end of the bullpen. She was excluded and it made me feel bad.”

I’ve always thought Griffin would be at the top of my list for top associates. He was like me; only shorter, not as good looking, and had blue eyes instead of brown. Did I mention he wasn’t as good looking? Anyway, I had only one intention: get Claudia alone so I could talk to her.

Every day since she started a few weeks ago, I have watched her get off the elevator, walk through the office, and disappear around the corner. It wasn’t fair that she got to look like that, walk like that, and no one was around to appreciate it. 

She was so fucking eye catching. And I didn’t want the other slobs at this firm to get to her before I could.

“Claudia, do you mind helping me with something for a few minutes?” I asked, voice just loud enough for Griffin to hear. 

She looked up, pen cap between her rosy lips, and blinked. That flush creeped onto her cheeks. I tried not to smile. 

“Sure,” she nodded once and stood up, following me out. 

I was not so subtle with the look that I gave Griffin, and he wasn’t so subtle with the way he spoke.

“Is there something you need, Harvey? Claudia is in the middle of a very important depo documentation. I’d hate for her to fall behind.”

What a dick. “No, Griffin. It seems like you’ve got more important things to do with your book club than working on whatever Louis assigned you, so Claudia will work just fine. I prefer an actually hard working associate to someone who’s discussing whatever mediocre steak dinner you had at Texas Roadhouse last Wednesday.”

“Griffin’s eyes simmered and shot daggers into Claudia. But he didn’t open his mouth. I thought about punching him in the face for looking at her like that, and that’s when I realized I was fucked. That I was willing to do that for Claudia when it was literally the second time I’ve ever talked to her.”

“I’ll say,” Donna huffed. “What happened next?” “I just had her deliver some letters for me to the courthouse. I asked her something about Griffin, if they were ever acquainted with each other.”

“And what did she say?”

“She told me that Griffin was a total douchebag and tried to use his social status to get a leg up on her in class discussions, cutting corners to discredit her. It was so unfair and I just-”

Donna put a hand on my knee. “Relax, Harvey. Griffin isn’t here, stop looking like you want to put him through a wall.” “Well, Donna, I do want to put him through a wall because he has been an asshole to Claudia for no other reason than she was good at her job. It makes me sick.”

“When did you start becoming so protective of her? I’ve never seen you like this with anyone other than Mike, Louis, Jessica and myself. You must… really really care about her.”

“I think it was during the mock trial. She was always off to the side, always attentive, but never spoke up. I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over at her every once and a while to see if she wanted to be included. But she never did.”

“This case may seem simple, but the husband is a grade A asshole. He has done everything to cover his tracks and is gonna come at us with everything he’s got. Find me some evidence and make it good.”

They all branched off, heading this way and that. Claudia went to the only logical place, right to me.

“Hi, Mr. Specter-sir. I just have one question about-about the case if you’ve got a minute. If you have somewhere to be I understand and I can ask later,” she said quickly.

“Of course, what do you want to know?” I couldn’t help but think her stuttering was cute. I knew she was nervous, specifically around me; she always seemed so tense with me, so I made sure to always speak quietly and calmly with her. 

“Was Mr. Saros the one who paid off that investment banker? Did the money come from his account directly or a different one?”

God she was so good. “It came from him and his wife’s joint account.”

Claudia had a slight grin to her lips, and she nodded before striding away. She was going to crack this wide open. I just knew it. 

I went back to my office to wait it out, to see if any one could come up with an idea before Claudia. Before I knew it, it was three o'clock and I had a meeting to go to for another case Mike and I were working on. When we got in the car, Mike was looking at me with a knowing smile. 

“What?” 

He shook his head, “Nothing, just wondering how long you’re going to pretend you’re not in love with Claudia Martin.”

“The first year associate?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who she is. I see you watch her like a starving animal every time she comes into the office. And every time she leaves. And every time she asks Donna something.”

Uh oh.

“Oh please, I have far better things to do than get involved with a first year.”

“You didn’t deny that you were in love with her.”

“Do you want to get smacked? Or I could kick you out of this car at sixty miles per hour, see how you like the taste of asphalt.” Mike did not know when to stop pushing my buttons. 

“I think you just proved my theory.”

“What theory?”

“That you are in love and you are incredibly protective of Claudia. I heard about what you said to Griffin when he offered his help because Claudia was ‘too busy’. You know he pawned that work off to her, right?”

My eyes narrowed and my jaw clenched, as well as my fists. I fixed my gaze out the window and took some deep breaths. Jesus… he had a point. A huge point. God dammit I’m in trouble.

“Mike knew before I did?” Donna sounded mildly offended. 

“Well, not really. I never told him what we were doing. But I did tell him that I liked her. And when he told me that Griffin was pawning off his work to Caudia it sent me into a spiral. Shit, Donna… I am in so deep with Claudia. I really fucked up. I mean really bad. I made a promise to her that I wouldn’t treat her like the other associates because she wasn’t like the other associates. She was Claudia. And Claudia was- is- so much better than the rest of them.” “Why would you make a promise like that if you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep it?” “I had every intention of keeping it, but then all the shit with started happening when Louis found out about Mike being a fraud and he took that fucking case with Gerard and I couldn’t hold it together.” “Why did you even make it in the first place?” Donna asked, but I really didn’t want to tell this story.

I sighed, the type of sigh that fills your whole body.

“I was going off on Griffin one day, for being an asshole to some of the other associates, about pawning off his work to Claudia and she saw.”

“Griffin, I don’t care whose idea it was. You were the one to destroy his work, so you’re going to face the consequences.”

“It was just a prank, the entire document wasn’t supposed to be deleted.”

“You think tampering with another associate’s work is a prank? I hope when you go home tonight you think long and hard about who you wanna be as a man because as of right now, there isn’t going to be anything for you to come back to tomorrow. And you better pray to whatever you believe in because if there’s one person you don’t want to make an enemy out of, it’s me. Do you understand that?”

He clenched his jax, shoving his hands in his pockets. “yes.”

“You are going to be Louis’ personal associate.”“No, no way you can make me work for that man. He’s a total airhead.”“Yes, he is, now you two have something to talk about. You can bond over your selfish, outrageous egotistical behavior, it’ll be just like looking in a mirror.”

“Harvey I’m-”

“I don’t care what you are Griffin. You have no right to treat the other associates like that, especially Claudia. If I ever catch wind of you throwing your work load on her again so help me God I will make sure it is the last thing you do at this firm.”

If my point wasn’t clear enough by my words, the look I gave him would certainly do. He left my office without another word and I followed his movements all the way. But my eyes met Claudia’s. And they were wide and panicked. She quickly scurried away, head down and steps fast. She looked so afraid. 

She wasn’t afraid of me was she? I mean, all I had done was rip Griffin a new one for being an asshole. And he deserved it, Claudia would never do something to deserve that kind of lashing. 

“And so I promised her. I fucking promised her that I would never flip out on her and then I went and did exactly. God Donna… I am so fucked up.”

Her slim hand rubbed up and down my shoulder, but I only wanted it to be Claudia’s. I wanted her right next to me so I could go through all of this with her and explain that it wasn’t just some fling. Not to me. Never to me. I never wanted it to be temporary, she was… she’s it for me. 

The familiar prick crept into my eyes, my nose, and the tears fell. Donna has only seen me cry a handful of times, but never over a girl.

But Claudia wasn’t just some girl. She wasn’t just some hookup or some prize to be won. She was Claudia Martin. My Claudia. The quiet, shy first year associate I had worked so hard to get out of her shell. It wasn’t just for my pleasure, I truly didn’t want to see her fall behind just because she couldn’t ask me a question.

I saw that look in her eye; hunger and determination. Just like mine. I wanted it to shine brighter than her smile. Which was equally as devastating as her work in the courtroom. But I just wanted her to feel comfortable around me and I didn’t know what else to do. She was like a frightened baby deer around me. A constant nervous wreck at the drop of my name. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, I wanted nothing more than to be a safe space for her. 

And maybe it’s just because I’m an idiot, but I’m realizing now that maybe I’m the one who needed the safe place. To just have someone to go to all the time. To share all of my proud moments and sneak little kisses and touches here and there. 

I need Claudia. I need her.

Maybe I took it too far. Started at the wrong place. I should’ve offered to take her out to dinner instead of inviting her up for a drink in my office after her first case. I shouldn’t have done it so backwards, and it kills me that I’m only drawing that connection now. Why couldn’t I have thought of that earlier? She would’ve been so much better off without all the backwards, fucked up shit that I did.

But it was so nice. To finally have the one thing I have been craving for so long. She was so soft, and she was so sweet under my touch and I couldn’t help myself. As soon as I first kissed her it was end game. I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. I wouldn’t ever kiss anyone again, not the way I kissed Claudia. More than lust. More than just a desire. 

Her lips on mine made my head go blank. I had an awful habit of having work thoughts creep their way into my head every once in a while. But never with her. Even when we were only talking about work, I couldn’t think about it. I only thought about her. About how brilliant she was, about how soft and warm and perfect her lips were on mine. About how she always made me feel at ease and comforted. I doubt she could ever make anyone afraid. Except maybe an opposing counsel. 

If I ever had to face her in court… I know I’d lose. For one, I’d give her anything she wanted simply because she could put me on my knees with a single look. And normally I’d hate to let a woman have that much control over me, but for Claudia… I’d let her do whatever she wanted. And Second, she knows what to do. All the time. She never misses a beat, and is always listening. Even when you think she isn’t.

I am so in love with Claudia. I felt my heart crack open. My voice more or less does the same. 

“Harvey…” “I am in love with her, Donna. And I think I have been for a long time.”

She was quiet, and a throat cleared. Mike was there in front of me, his hands in his pockets, a look of worry on his face. “Is everything alright?”

I saw Donna shake her head out of the corner of my eye. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she wanted to. 

“I broke my promise to Claudia.” That was all I said. I heard his sharp inhale, and he came and sat in front of us. “God dammit Mike… I really messed up. I hurt the one person I couldn’t afford to and- and I don’t know what to do.”

“Go talk to her,” Mike said. “If you’re serious about how you feel about Claudia, then you need to go tell her that it was never… whatever you were doing before. She has anxiety, Harvey. She is going to let her brain tell her things about you that aren’t true. And you need to be there to soothe the fire before it does irreversible damage.” “Well, what do you and Rachel do when you get into an argument?” 

“Harvey,” Donna said, “You aren’t Mike, and Claudia isn’t Rachel. Whatever they do might not work for you. You need to do what feels right for you and your relationship.” “I don’t know if you know this Donna, but I haven’t done something like this before. I don’t know how to talk to her. How to not make her anxious around me.” “We’ll help you,” Mike nods, as well as Donna. “We can come up with a plan but right now we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands.” What could be more devastating than hurting Claudia? 

Nothing. The answer was nothing.

____

CLAUDIA’S POV

I toed off my shoes, leaving them in the growing pile by my front door. I sighed at it. Why couldn’t they just put themselves away? 

My splitting headache was doing nothing to help either. 

Before I could even get a thought about what I could cook for dinner, the doorbell rang. I swear to god if Greg was here asking me about those flowers on my wreath again I was going to smack him with it, throw it over his head and shove him back inside his apartment and-

“Claudia, it’s Mike. I know you’re here, can we talk?”

Mike? What the hell is he doing here? 

I seriously debated giving my best housekeeper impression and deadbolting the door. But it was Mike, and he hadn’t done anything to deserve a cold shoulder. Oh god, what if Harvey was with him and I was getting set up? Oh shit.

“No, Harvey isn’t with me. I promise.”

I stalked to the door, pulling it open and glaring up at Mike. “The last time someone made me a promise I regretted it.” He just pressed his lips in a flat line. “What are you doing here, Mike?”

“I’m here on behalf of Harvey.” “Why?” “Because he’s worried about you.” Why is he worried about me? He made it very clear he didn’t give a shit about me. “He’s beating himself up over what he did.”

“Good,” that I didn’t restrain. 

“Claudia, he is really shaken up right now. He didn’t mean to do what he did. Now, I’m not going to stand here and pretend I know all the details about what he did but-” “He used me, Mike. Plain and simple.” All I got was a raised eyebrow. “He told me he wanted to ‘build my confidence’ which I was actually naive enough to believe, and it led to my worst fucking nightmare. But he just got what he wanted, to get his dick wet and then was done with me.”

“Claudia, trust me, it wasn’t like that. Harvey would never use you like that. He wouldn’t dream of it, trust me.”

“Are you sure because it seems like that’s exactly what he did. He saw that I was hard working, manipulated me into working with him, and treated me like shit when I was just trying to find a solution to his goddamn problem. I have more self respect than that. To let him continue to get away with that.”

“Can I ask what he did?”

My throat closed, and my palms began to sweat. I knew my annoying blush was there by the way his eyes dipped to my neck. 

“After I won my first case with him, he invited me up to his office for some drinks. Said something along the lines of wanting to get to know each other so I didn’t have to feel so nervous. So I went up, and one thing led to another and… I don’t know why I let it happen. I knew it would end badly. I can’t believe I let myself believe that he would be into me beyond anything other than his pure primal satisfaction. But he seemed so genuine and so caring. Like he genuinely wanted to help me, and some part of me obviously thought it was a good idea because it happened again. And again. And again. God, I sound like the biggest loser right now.” “No you don’t,” Mike gave me a soft smile. “If it means anything, those feelings weren’t one sided. I know it doesn’t mean much of anything coming from me but… Harvey is really really fucking sorry about what he did.”

I was physically shaking. Through my trembles, I managed to speak, despite my thoughts trying to shut me down. “It hurt so bad, Mike. I really like Harvey, and I thought he might feel the same way. I guess I was wrong. So… so wrong.”

“No, Claudia you’re not wrong. Harvey is a grade A asshole but he wouldn’t-”

“If there is any chance of Harvey sorting this out, you need to tell him to grow a set and tell me himself,” I have no idea where this confidence came from. “He needs to stop getting other people to do his job for him. If he can’t recognize that now, of all times, then… then I don’t think he deserves me.”

Mike blinked long, rubbing his fingers over his mouth. “Harvey didn’t ask me to come here.” “What?” What? 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I knew Harvey wouldn’t come tonight. I’m not sure he’ll come at all but… Claudia, he talks about you like I’ve never seen him talk before. He gushes over you to the point where it’s annoying. And when I went to go and talk to him about what our next move was for this case… Claudia, he was crying. He was sobbing with Donna in his office and-”

Good, I wanted to say. But it kind of crushed my soul. Harvey was crying over what he did to me. 

“I’ve never seen him cry before,” Mike looked hurt, too. “He regrets what he said. I know he does.”

“I believe you.”

“Good,” he nods. “I don’t want to do his job for him and I think-”

“But that doesn’t mean I will forgive him for what he said,” and with that, I closed the door, locking it for the night.

_____

Saturday and Sunday were so agonizing. The last thing I wanted to do was go into an office after a weekend of anything but rest and relaxation. I was tired and hadn’t showered and needed some restful sleep. Not to be woken up three times a night by dreams of Harvey touching me. Those certainly didn’t help. 

My mind kept replaying our first time together. Specifically when he said 'Oh, Claudia, you really are that innocent, aren’t you?’ Innocent and naive… just like he said that night. Who was I to think that Harvey would take any interest in me besides the fact that I was good at being a lawyer? I wasn’t special in any way, I think he just knew that I was easy to manipulate into doing what he needed. 

There was no way in hell I’d ever do another thing for Havrey, the all powerful jackass, Specter again.

As I set my stuff on my desk, Griffin walked up. Great. Just great, what did this prick want?

“Hey umm… Hi Claudia,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I just- I’m sorry. About all the things I’ve done to you. You didn’t deserve it and I want you to know that you have always been six-times the lawyer I wish I could be. I was jealous and took it out on you. And I shouldn’t have so… I’m sorry.”

Did I just hear that right? Did Griffin Harper just apologize to me? What the fuck is going on?

“Oh,” great way to start, idiot. “Thank you, Griffin.”

He just gave me a short nod before scurrying away. Well, that was… unexpected. Certainly I couldn’t ever let us be friends, but it was nice to know he wasn’t my mortal enemy any longer. 

I went about my business, plagued with thoughts and reminders of Harvey ever which way I went. Louis and Jessica sent me an email with some files to print out so I scanned them, proofed them, and sent them to the printing room. 

God it sent a shiver down my spine to be back in here after he… don’t finish the thought don’t finish the thought-

“Hey, Claudia,” Donna snapped me out of my heated thoughts. “How are you?” “You can cut the bullshit now, Donna.”

She sighed, “it was a genuine question.” “And that was a genuine answer. I’m not in the mood.”

“Claudia-” “No, Donna. What Harvey did wasn’t okay, and I’m not going to stand here and pretend like what he did didn't hurt. Because it did and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since. I don’t need you here to remind me.”

“Have you ever considered that Harvey may want to fix it?”

“No, Donna. I haven’t. And I’m not going to,” I stood my ground, squaring off my freshly printed papers before making more copies for Louis. 

“What are you talking about?”

I scoffed. “Do you really think that I wouldn’t figure out what was going on?” “Again, what are you-” “I know Harvey just thinks that I am gullible and naive and easy to push around because he makes me nervous. And it’s true. Whenever I am near him I can’t keep myself composed and I’m sick and tired of being walked all over. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to let myself see otherwise, but I’m even more upset that you didn’t come clean and tell me.” “Claudia, no one is walking over you. And I didn’t know about any of this until you told me on Friday. Harvey came to you because he knew can rely on you and your abilities to get things accomplished. He wanted the chance to work with you and get you to trust him a little. You have to know that by now,” Donna was standing right next to me, blocking my way out. 

“Maybe I do, but that doesn’t mean that I believe it. Donna, I am not some corporate power house that is gonna bring firms to their knees. Not like he does.” “Nobody does what Harvey does.” “And that’s my point,” I grit my teeth. “Harvey was trying to make me into a mini version of him, just like he did with Mike and it’s not what I want to be. Donna, I am not assertive. I am not reckless and willing to go behind peoples backs to get the job done. I like rules and regulations and the law. They are there so people abide by them, and Harvey, more often than not, doesn’t do that. Yes, I look up to him as a role model because I admire his tenacity. But that doesn’t mean I like or agree with the things he does.”

“And you think that I like it when he goes and cuts someone’s legs out from under them?”

“I didn’t say that. But that means you know how I feel. I can’t- I don’t… I don’t want to be around someone like that. It makes me feel like I’m suffocating. And worst of all he gave me his word that he wouldn’t lash out and treat me like the other associates. I cant believe that I was stupid enough to believe that Harvey would-“

Both of us stopped as someone pushed through the door. 

Harvey…

“Donna,” Harvey’s mouth was pressed in a flat line. He jerked his head over his shoulder. Donna gave me a sympathetic look and turned on her heel. Where was she going?

“Wait, Donna don’t-” I whispered.

“You’ll be fine,” she gave me a firm look, patting my shoulder as she walked around Harvey. Oh my god… she set me up.

My heart felt like it was ripping out of my fucking chest. The last thing I needed right now was to be in an enclosed space with Harvey.

He stared at me, fussing with the cufflink on his shirt. “Claudia.” “I’m sorry, Mr. Specter, but I have to get these to Louis.” I tried to go around him, like Donna had, but he just let his body fall against the wall. Blocking the way. I couldn’t bring myself to look up at him and ask him to let me go. 

“I want you to listen to me.” His voice was stern, in a demanding way, but not in a pissed off way. 

“No, I am in a rush. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Come on, Claudia. Please just talk to me. I tried to call you but you didn’t answer and-.”

“I know, but I don’t want to talk to you. I want you to get out of my way so I can go do my job.” 

“A little feisty today, aren’t we?” He pushed off his shoulder, taking a step towards me, I took one back. And another as he took one. 

“No, I need to-” “Get those copies to Louis, I heard you,” Harvey acknowledged, but didn’t stop walking closer to me. My back eventually hit a copier and I almost fell over, but Harveys arms came to either side of my body, blocking me in. “And I don’t care.”

His face was inches from mine, chest inches from mine. I felt desperate for a breath. I forgot how to think, how to appear unphased. Everything he’s taught me has vanished from my mind. His eyes, much darker in this low over-head light, seemed to pierce my soul. 

“What… What are you doing?” My voice was barely audible. 

“I want you to know that I wouldn’t ever, ever, take advantage of you like that. I can’t even believe that you would think that. You think I enjoy making you a nervous wreck? Well, I don’t. It honestly makes me sick that even after all this time, you can’t trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

“Then what is it? Because clearly I am not understanding,” his tone deepened, voice scratching in his throat. 

I couldn’t- I didn’t know how to admit to him-

“I- I umm… Mr. Specter I can’t-”

“Stop calling me that, please, Claudia. Stop seeing me as your boss for one second and see me as literally anything else.”

I swallowed. Nothing went down. “Harvey… you are… you scare me more than anyone else I’ve ever met.” “Why?” his brows knit together. “What is it about me that makes you so afraid of me?”

“Everything.” I was shaking, visibly shaking in front of him. I looked anywhere but his eyes because I knew if I did I’d crack open and bleed my heart all over him. 

His exhale was sharp enough to rustle the small hairs framing my face. “Claudia just-”

“I can’t be around you without feeling like I’m gonna drown in your presence.” 

He was stunned silent for a beat too long. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Harvey I told you I didn’t want to-”

“Please, Claudia, tell me why you are so afraid of me.” He was begging. Begging for me to explain.

“Because I know that if I let myself think for one fucking second that you actually like working with me I’ll drop my guard around you. And I cannot afford to do that because there are things I keep locked inside that I would rather take to my grave than ever let someone know.”

“And what, you don’t think I’m equally as terrified to have these feelings for you?” “Not like mine.” Harvey gave me a very concerned glance. “There, you asked me to tell you. Please just let me go.”

“No, not until you tell me what is haunting you so much you’re willing to let it eat you alive rather than just let it out for once in your life. Look, I get that you’re a private person, and it’s hard for you to trust people, but that doesn’t mean you need to keep everything bottled inside and let it rot you from the inside out-”

“For the love of guard Harvey it’s you,” I shouted, far louder than I meant to. “It is you that is driving me insane. I cannot go a single moment of my day without thinking about you. I am terrified that you are going to see right through me and figure out that every thought that goes on inside my head has to do with you because for some reason, known only by some sick and twisted higher power, I want you to see me the way I see you. I want you to want me as much as I want you and-”

I stopped because I ran out of air. And then it hit me so hard I saw stars. What the fuck have I just done? My vision began to black out, my heart beating too fast for my lungs to keep up with. 

Harvey had backed up a step, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 

I was going to throw up, I was sure of it. I tried to speak, but my mind had melted and oozed out of my ears. 

I ran, I left the copies on the floor; at some point I dropped them. And ran. His hand caught my elbow and I shrieked, whipping around just as Harvey slammed the door closed, pinning me, yet again. 

“You do not get to drop that ball and run away,” his voice had a darkness I’ve never heard. “Claudia, in what way do you want me?”

Frozen. My mind was utterly dysfunctional and useless. I couldn’t think, I’m surprised I remembered how to breathe. God his eyes…

“Claudia, please answer me.” Now his voice was tender, filled with warmth. His fingers tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You have to tell me in what way now or I’m… you have to tell me.”

“Why does it matter? I've already ruined everything I’ve had going for me.” I was meek with my words. Wimpy. Cowardice. 

“Because it matters to me.”

“I want you, I want Harvey.”

“As in you want me, and not as your boss, Claudia?” He clarified. I had to shut my eyes, to turn my cheek to him so I wouldn’t see his reaction when I nodded in confirmation. “Fucking hell…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Just… just let me go and I can hand Jessica my letter of resignation right now and you never have to see me again-”

“Are you out of your mind?” Harvey’s caramel eyes were wide. “Claudia, I don’t want you to go. Not for one fucking second. Why do you even have a letter drafted?”

“But I just-” 

His fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him when I spoke. God dammit… Harvey’s thump caressed my lip, pulling it down and watching it spring up. Slowly, ever so slowly, he dipped it inside my mouth. I couldn’t help the soft noise that startled out of me. 

“Claudia… you have no idea how much I have been praying to hear you say those words. I have been driving myself out of my mind with what to say. How to say it and I- I don’t know how to tell you everything I’ve been wanting to. For weeks now.

“I have been thinking of you nonstop. I keep making up excuses and things to come see you during the day. I want nothing more than to get the chance to treat you right, and I want you to want it too. I promised myself I wouldn’t make a move unless you made one first because I knew how petrified you were of me. I can’t- I won’t have you be afraid of me if we do this.

“But I fucked up. I got ahead of myself and I didn’t go in the direction that I should've. I should've just asked you out to dinner, been a true gentleman rather than selfish. You have no idea how long I have been practicing what to say. I just made everything so much worse. And I wish like hell I could take it all back and do it all again because I am so so so fucking sorry for breaking my promise.”

I stared up at him, at the tears spilling over his lashes, and the flush on his cheeks. His lip quivered. He looked so vulnerable. So open and honest. Every part of me wanted to take it to heart, but that voice in the back of my head was telling me not to believe it.

“Harvey I-”

“Please, Claudia,” Harvey knelt to the ground, sitting back on his heels. “I will do whatever you want to gain your trust back. Anything… anything. But I can’t let you walk away from me. I want a real chance to make you happy, to give you every part of me. I will do or say or answer whatever you want but please do not leave me. If you truly don’t want me, tell me, and we never have to talk again. I will make it like I was never here in the first place if you told me to, but I don't think you want that. And I don’t want it either.”

Harvey was on his knees. Begging me to open my heart up to him. 

“Please don’t make me regret this, Harvey…”

He let out a breath, and a smile accompanied the tears that fell down his face. He reached for my hand, and I let him grab it. His fingers were warm and smooth in mine, familiar and comforting as he gently tugged me towards him. 

“I'm so sorry, Claudia. I will regret nothing more than the words I said to you. But I want to fix it, I want to be better. Not just for you, but for myself. But you are what makes me want to be better. I need to learn to control myself and take a page out of my own book to make that happen.”

Harvey rested his head on my stomach, and I let my fingers thread through his spiky hair. 

“But I don’t want you to be afraid of me anymore. I can’t- I won’t let you be afraid to ask me a question. I want to be there for you, work related or not, but I can’t do it if you don’t meet me halfway. I do remember you making me a promise back, to not see me as a monster.”

My hand stopped, and he looked up. I wanted to agree, but I was still upset, and he must’ve seen that. 

“Okay, that was a bad time to bring that up.”

“Yup.” 

Harvey huffed a laugh, standing back up. His smile was sweet, his finger gentle as it swept some hair away from my face. 

“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, Claudia Olivia Martin.”

“How did you find out my middle name?”

“Donna,” he smiled wider. I just rolled my eyes. “I don’t really know how to do any of this, so I asked her for some help. I knew I had to do it myself. I just didn’t really know where to start and she’s… well, she’s Donna.” “Yes, she is Donna,” I smiled up at him. “But it’s gonna take me more than that to convince me.”

“Oh I have like seven other things lined up and ready to go. If you'd like to hear them. First, you are the most stunning, breathtaking, gorgeous woman I have ever met in my life. Second, I admire every part of you. All your good habits, your bad, your anxious thoughts and brave approach to life. Because they all make you you. Three, I am the biggest fucking idiot. For starting all of this off wrong, for yelling at you. For leading you to believe that I just wanted to get in your pants.”

“You’re also an asshole. A bit of a coward and a bitch. Did I say that you were an asshole?”

“Okay okay,” he placed his hands on my hips and I let him, doing nothing to hide the giggle that bubbled out. “Yes, I am all of those things. And, for the record, I did want to get in your pants, just not that way.”

“Of course you did, who could resist all of this?” My heart sped up when he looked at me over, a huge grin spreading his cheeks wide and bright. 

“Looks like you’ve gained a little confidence, huh?”

“Well, I did have a not so awful teacher. That was before he betrayed me.” “Are you gonna stop rubbing salt into the wound?”

I faked a ponder, “Nope.”

“Claudia,” he pressed a tentative kiss to my cheek, then gauged my response before placing one on the other. “Olivia,” another kiss. “Martin.” He kissed my forehead, then the tip of my nose. “I will never be able to take back what I said, but I hope you find it in your heart to give me a second chance. Even good people are great at making bad decisions. I know I can be a better man, and I know you know that too. Just one,” a kiss to my left cheek, “More,” right cheek, “Chance.”

His lips hovered over mine, waiting for permission before he pressed them into mine. My heart was beating so fast. So strong, all because of him. All for him. 

My eyes met his, “Okay, Harvey.”

Those devastating eyes ignited. His smile grew so wide I got lost in it with my own. I was pressed flat to him, my hands on his shoulders, his hands on my lower back. My ears were buzzing with my pulse and I hoped he felt how fast it was. Who knew Harvey had such a way with words? I wondered how long he practiced all of this in the mirror. Who knows, maybe he was secretly a hopeless romantic and-

“Claudia,” Harvey snapped me out of my daydream. 

“Hmm?” “Please tell me I can kiss you.”

Oh. Right. 

“And what if I say no?”

“Then I won’t.”

“And if I say yes?” “I’ll make sure it is the best damn kiss you’ve ever and will ever have.”

Sounds pretty good to me. I pressed up on my toes, arms wrapping around his neck, and finally let our lips say hello. It had been too long, It felt so right, so perfect. And I realized it felt like all the other times we’ve kissed; I didn’t want to kiss anyone else. I wanted to kiss Harvey. Harvey goddamn Specter. 

I should find out what his middle name is from Donna to surprise him. 

“Come over tonight,” he blurted out.

“What?” “Come over, let me cook something for you. We can make it our first date. A real date. Let me start this off on the right foot. Unless tonight is too soon and you need more time to heal and process or-”

“Just stop talking,” I literally put my fingers over his mouth. “I’d love to come over for dinner, Harvey.”

If I hadn’t been in his arms I’m sure he’d jump up and down out of excitement. He kissed me again, and again, and again. The slight stubble on his chin tickled my neck enough for me to tuck down into my shoulders when he kissed below my ear. 

“Hey, Claudia, I just want to make sure- oh. Well, this seems to be going well,” Donna had a proud smile on her face, arms crossed over her chest.

“It is,” Harvey beamed down, never taking his eyes off of me. 

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.”

“How much of this was your idea?” I asked. 

“I suggested he get a horse and carriage to surprise you on your way out but he knew you wouldn’t want a grand gesture,” She said. “So I think that should say it well enough as to who came up with all the ideas.” When I looked back at him, he had a flush to his cheeks, and hid his grin. 

“Wow, Harvey, I’m impressed.” “Well,” he shrugged. “I don’t know… I wanted it to be authentic and special. Something that you would take to heart and genuinely appreciate. So it’s the best I could come up with over the weekend because if I didn’t do it soon I was going to explode.”

“Seriously, Claudia. This idiot wouldn’t leave my house for two days. I had to kick him out so he could get a shower and change. Did you even sleep?” “You haven’t slept?” He shook his head. “Harvey, what- okay. We need to do our dinner another day because if you try to cook you might set your house on fire and that would-” “Nope, too bad. I’m fine, really Claudia. I can handle making dinner. I’ll leave early and take a nap if that would make you feel better.” “Yes, it would,” I sighed out, looking back at Donna who had a look that meant trouble. “What?” “You guys are adorable.”

I blushed. “Oh, wait! Before you go, what’s Harvey’s middle name? I mean, he went to you for mine so it’s only fair…”

“Don’t you dare,” Harvey pointed at Donna who all but melted the Wicked Witch of the West with her smirk.

“Reginald.”

“Reginald?” I repeated. “Seriously?”

“It’s a family name, alright?” He defended. “Now, if you two will excuse me I have a very important dinner to plan for an even more important girl. Donna, can you-” “Already cleared your schedule.”

“Remind me to give you a raise.” “Oh I’ve already written a bonus check, it just needs your signature.” “I’m surprised you didn’t forge it,” I snickered. 

“I would’ve but having Harvey do it makes it that much more satisfying.”

Harvey just shook his head, but smiled at us both. “I’ll see you tonight, is seven good?” “Sounds perfect,” I nodded, relishing in his warmth as he pressed one more kiss to the top of my head before leaving. 

“So,” Donna swayed on her feet. “I take it that things went well?” “Yeah, yeah it did. I was surprised, today has been so weird. Even Griffin apologized to me.” “Griffin? Really?” “Yeah,” I followed in step behind her towards the bullpen. “He genuinely apologized to me. It was so unexpected. Now this… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dreading this happening. But it turned out way better than I expected so I can’t complain. I need to stop expecting the worst case scenario all the time and believe that I can handle anything that comes at me.”

“Now that sounds like true growth and confidence,” Donna slung her arm over my shoulder. “And definitely something Harvey couldn’t have taught you.” “No, he didn’t. That was all on my own.”

___

As I packed up to head home for the day, my stomach was on fire with nerves about tonight. Not nerves, excitement. 

“Hey, Claudia,” Griffin caught up to me right before the elevator closed. “Do you want to join us for drinks tonight?”

I just smirked. “Sorry, Griffin. I can’t, I have a date with Harvey Specter.” And I let the door shut before he could get on.

____

This building. For fucks sake his front door cost more than what I make in a year, probably. The door man had given me a bit of a side eye when I asked to be let up to Harvey. Well, here I was. 

The bottle of wine in my hand wasn’t getting any colder as I paced outside of his apartment. Was I making this a bigger deal than it needed it to be? Most definitely. 

I knocked. 

Harvey opened it a few moments later, a smug look on his face. “I was wondering how long you were going to just stand there.”

God dammit. The heat rose up my neck and I looked away. “Just shut up and take the wine.”

He chuckled, plucking it from my grasp before stepping aside to let me in. I gazed up and into his hallway, following it down to the kitchen. Woah… holy windows. The already set sun lit up the sky with blues and purples, making all of this feel very cinematic. 

“You didn’t need to bring this, Claudia,” Harvey smiled nonetheless. 

“I just- I don’t know, isn't that what people do when they’re invited over?”

“Why are you still so nervous?” 

Right to it, I guess. “What makes you say that?” “Well,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was wearing all black. He looked… too good for his own good. Or mine for that matter of fact. “For starters, you’ve clearly been running your fingers through your hair. Second, I’ve watched you fiddle with that string on your sleeve at least four times now.”

My fingers ceased their motion. I had been toying with it. “I like to keep my hands busy.”

“I call it a nervous habit.”

“Did you invite me here for dinner or just to pick on me for being anxious?” 

“You have no reason to be anxious here,” he crept closer, taking my hand in his. Harvey gently kissed the back of my fingers. “There is no one here to watch, no prying eyes to hide from. It’s just me, Claudia.”

“And that is precisely what makes me nervous,” I did let a laugh bubble up. “But, you’re right. I guess there is no reason to be so… terrified.”

“Good,” he smiled, placing his hands on my hips. I let mine fall around his shoulders. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” I turned to look behind me, a few pots and a pan of vegetables on the stove. Harvey’s hands still lingered on my sides as I peered over to look inside.

“I didn’t know the great Harvey Specter could cook,” I jabbed, making him roll his eyes playfully. “It looks lovely, thank you.”

“Told you, there’s more to the name than the title it comes with.”

From the table, I watched him plate the stir fry dish and bring it over. I was starving, and I made sure to eat my lunch a little later so I wouldn’t be ravenous by the time this dinner rolled around. I wasted no time taking a forkful and practically inhaling it. 

“I’ll take that as a good sign?” 

I nodded, “It’s amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this?” “Here and there. My brother owns a bar and restaurant back home, we used to like to cook together all the time.” “I didn’t know you had a brother,” I tilted my head. “That’s amazing, though. Glad you put those skills to good use.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

I hummed, “Yeah I have two brothers. I’m the baby of the family.”

“Am I going to have to win their trust one day?” 

My laugh echoed through the spacious dining room, “No, they’re pretty cool. Vince, my oldest brother, is married, has two kids who are in college. My other brother, Caleb, is the one you’ve gotta watch out for. He’s my twin and very vocal about the men in my life, especially when he doesn’t think they’re good enough for me.”

“I see,” Harvey gave me a look I knew all too well. 

“Yeah, he can be a pain in my ass sometimes. But I love him, he always stood up for me when I was too afraid. Whether someone was picking on me in school or tried to get one up on me at a bar, he was always there. He’s just protective of me, they both are, but Caleb… he’s always had my back.” “It’s good to have those types of people on your side,” Harvey’s smile was so bright. 

For about an hour we ate and had dessert. I don’t know how, he probably asked Donna, but he had my absolute favorite chocolate cake. Coated in a thick butter cream, it practically melted in my mouth. I wasn’t shy about telling him how delicious it was. 

“I could marry this cake,” I knew I was being dramatic, but I didn’t care. “If I could take this cake, and mold it in the shape of a man, I would.”

Harvey grinned, looking from the cake on his plate, back up to me as I spooned another mouthful. He dipped his finger in the frosting and swiped it across his cheek. I blushed, so hard, and he just laughed and laughed. 

“You think you’re funny, huh?” I had to put my face in my hands. 

“I do, actually. Why don’t you come over here and clean it off for me,” Harvey spoke dangerous words. I raised my eyebrow in question, but he merely scooted his chair back in response, palms turned upward. 

Now or never, I thought. 

I stood, my bare feet padding quietly to Harvey. This is where I had confidence. Could use his own game against him. Because up until this point, all Harvey knows about me is that I am a nervous wreck in front of him. 

The cards have no longer been dealt in his favor. 

I swung my leg over his, perching on his thigh. I took my thumb and ran it across his face, collecting the decorative icing off his cheek, licking my thumb clean. His eyes tracked my movements, especially when I stuck out my tongue and showed him the mess.

His throat bobbed, and his eyes darkened. 

“Where did that shy, blushing Claudia go?” Harvey’s voice sent a chill down my spine. 

“Away, for now,” I smirked. “There are plenty of versions of Claudia you haven’t met before.”

“And who exactly is this version?” He asked.

“That depends,” I huffed. “Are you going to let me have what I want or are you going to make me earn it?”

Harvey’s hands crept up my thighs, cupping my ass gently. “You’re gonna let me choose?”

“You better choose carefully.”

“And why is that?”

“Because,” I said. “You can either let me take what I want, or try to take what you want. But I’ll let it be known, that isn’t possible. You won’t be able to resist me long enough to uphold that promise.”

“Oh, you think I’m that easy?” Harvey countered, tightening his hold on my body. I let out a whine, enticing him into my game further. 

“I don’t know, Harvey.” I ran my hand down his chest, grinding back and forth on his thigh. I leaned close to his ear, “I can be your every fantasy or your worst nightmare.”

I pulled away from his body, taking a few steps back and towards another hallway. I assumed that’s where his bedroom was, and judging by the screeching of the chair against the floor, I was heading in the right direction. 

The first door I pushed open was, thankfully, the right room. His clothes were hung up neatly in the closet on the opposite side of the room, the city below shining onto the walls. Harvey shut the door quickly, turning on a lamp beside his bed. 

Harvey grinned like the devil and crushed his mouth to mine. I didn’t waste any time letting his tongue tangle with mine. Harvey kissed like the god he was, like a true emperor. He tasted like pure sin, like the cake we were just sharing.

My hands went to the buttons on his shirt, fitting them through the tiny holes and pushing it off his shoulders. 

“Mmm wait, sweetheart,” Harvey broke our lips apart. “I don’t wanna do it this way tonight. Let me take care of you. Please.”

Well, when he sounded like that, who was I to resist him? I let him lay me down, his body between my legs as he placed the most tender kiss on my lips. He moved down my chest, slowly lifting my shirt and placing his mark on my stomach. Up my chest, and my neck. 

“You are so beautiful, Claudia. And I can’t believe I get to have all of you to myself. I can’t wait to make you feel so good.”

I sighed out, letting my eyes close as he explored my body. He was forward with his choices, but he wasn’t ever harsh. He was so soft. So loving and so caring. No one had ever made me feel equally nervous or excited as Harvey did. But now… I wasn’t afraid of him. I don’t think I could ever again. 

“Is it okay if I take these off?” “I wasn’t sure you knew how to ask for permission,” I giggled. He just scowled, but I nodded. “Of course, Harvey. Do whatever you want.” “Don’t-” he swallowed. “Don’t say things like that when I am trying to be sweet and nice to you.”

“I think you’re forgetting that I like it when you manhandle me,” I smiled up to the ceiling before looking at him between my legs. “Sorry, carry on.”

He laid a not so gentle tap to the inside of my thigh before removing my skirt. The chill of the air spread goosebumps across my skin, even more when he placed kisses from my ankle to my hips bone. 

“God I could spend all day between your legs. They’re so perfect,” he praised, spreading them wide so he could fit his torso between them. “You’re so fucking hot, Claudia.” I flushed, beet red, and turned away from him. But his fingers brought me right back. 

“You don’t get to be shy now, sweetheart. Not tonight, let me see all of you.”

“I’m all yours Harvey.” Our eyes locked, and the sparks flew. His lips were on mine, hurried, but not starving. It was intense and passionate and everything I could’ve asked it to be. He lifted my shirt over my head and slipped off my bra from behind. Thankfully his chest was warm against mine.

From one second to the next, Harvey swooped me on top of him and rolled, tugging the sheet with him. When they were freed, he laid me back down and put them over his body. 

“Oh, guess I should get these off,” he grinned, pushing his jeans down his thighs, his briefs going with them. Man… what a sight to behold. Harvey wasn’t shredded, but it was clear his boxing habits kept him in good shape. 

There was something about him that just made me want to crumble and fold. 

Harvey’s lips were hot as they moved all over me, nipping and biting and leaving tiny marks here and there. Before he could lose all his resolve, he reached over to his bedside table and plucked a foil packet from a little jar. Classy. 

“Doing okay, sweetheart?” He smoothed down my hair. 

“Yes, Harvey. I’d be better if…” I locked my legs around his middle, pulling him to me. “You just got on with it.” “Such an impatient little thing,” his grin gave away his facade. 

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re not craving this as much as I am.” “You’re right,” he smirked, lining up and pushing all the way in. a low groan escaped his flushed lips. “But I know you can’t get enough of this.”

I breathed heavily, clinging to him. His hips stirred, slowly pulling back, and sinking all the way in. Harvey rested his head on my shoulder, tongue making patterns on my ignited skin. I tugged at his hair, lips working on their own to find all his sweet spots. 

I raked my nails up his back, not missing when his hips slowed and he moaned. So I did it again. His thumb found its way between my legs and circled around where I wanted it most. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to take care of me. 

Harvey took his time, making sure that I was feeling good and got what I wanted. This was so different from the feverish moments we’ve had in the office. But it was somehow way better. Well, it could use one thing.

As he laced our fingers together, I moved our hands up. He stopped kissing me for a moment to give me a puzzled look. But I slipped his grip from mine and placed his hand on my throat. 

“I don’t need you to go all ‘sir’ on me tonight, but just give me this. Please.” I did the best I could with my eyes to lure him in, and it worked. It tightened, but it was never tight. It was just there, a reminder of the part of him I was going to get to see whenever I wanted. 

He started to let his control slip, and I knew it was hard for him to be so gentle. But I appreciated it so much. I let some of my control slip as well, just because I wanted to rile him up. His breath quickened, and so did his hips. His thumb was relentless between my legs and I could feel my high approaching.

“Come on, sweetheart, let go. Make yourself feel so good for me.” There it was, the Harvey that kept me up at night. That has plagued my dreams for the past few days. 

I met his hips with mine, and my release crashed over me when I wasn’t expecting it. I shook in his arms as he continued to move, chasing his own time. 

“Fuck, Harvey,” I gasped. “Let go for me, you did such a good job making me feel good.”

He cursed, tucking his head down momentarily before crushing his mouth to mine, not shy about how I was making him feel. His body went rigid, and the praise streamed out of his mouth.

“Fuck fuck Claudia… god you feel so good. You are so perfect for me. So soft and warm.”

My lips would surely be bruised tomorrow morning, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was being here with Harvey. About carrying him through the aftershocks of his release. I rubbed at his back, kissed his neck and cheeks. When he lifted his head, he had this dreamy look on his face. 

“You look so hot,” he ran his thumb across my cheek, bringing me in for another kiss. “Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

“I’m glad I decided to do it. I can’t decide which Harvey I like more. This one or the one who calls me sweetheart.”

“Did I not call you sweetheart tonight?” “You did, but not the way you do when I call you ‘sir’.”

“Ahh, I see,” he smirked. “As much as I would like to think that I could flip a switch right now, I don’t want to spoil this moment with you.”

“If you don’t want to spoil it, then you should take us into the shower.”

And then I was in the shower. Hot water streaming between us from the rain shower head. His hands were soft as he kneaded my body; they particularly felt nice on my ass, especially when he added his lips to the mix. 

“You are so amazing, Claudia. I cannot stress that enough.” “You’re doing an amazing job,” I smiled, kissing him. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“I know,” he grinned, smacking my ass before lathering up his hands and running them through my hair. It was hard to not fall asleep standing up. “Sweetheart, if you keep making those noises it is going to be very very hard to not take you right here.”

My eyes flew open, his very apparent arousal pressing into my backside. Well, alright then. Go Claudia, you sexy son of a bitch!

“And who’s to say that I wouldn’t want that?” “I am trying to hold back, you know. I wanted tonight to be different, to be special. I didn’t want it to be heated and rough and-”

“Harvey,” I turned, pressing a hand to his chest. “I know.” “I wanted to ‘make love’ or whatever they call it in those cheesy romance books you read.”

I laughed out loud, picturing Harvey curled up on the couch with a book in his hand, a fire in the fireplace. “Nobody says ‘making love’ any more, babe.” “Babe?” “Yeah, babe. I figured you wouldn’t like sugar, or honey bun, or baby for that matter.”

“Don’t make me sound older than I am, please. For fucks sake I passed the Bar when you were in highschool.”

“It doesn’t bother me all that much anymore,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I thought it would, but it doesn’t really make a difference to me.”

“Good, I’m glad it doesn’t freak you out,” he smiled. “And, for the record, I hope it doesn’t freak your folks out.”

“It won’t.”

He lifted up a brow, “How could you know?” “Because I already told them about you.” I felt him go tight. “Relax. They knew who you were already and they couldn’t have been more excited that I found a caring, respectful, well respected man.”

He let out a sigh, “and your brothers?” “They don’t know yet, but don’t worry about them, either. It will be okay.”

“When did you become the consoling one? It’s weird.” “I know, right?” I giggled. When I looked into his eyes, there was a fondness to his gaze. He was looking at my body, but not in a way he had before. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Harvey shrugged, “I just love you so much, Claudia. And I am so proud of how far you’ve come in just these first couple of months.”

My heart hitched in my chest, then beat so wildly I wasn’t entirely sure it didn’t burst through my skin and land in his hands. I froze. Mike had been right. Harvey wasn’t just some cock, high strung New York attorney that couldn’t decipher his own feelings. He seemed incredibly in tune with his emotions and that couldn’t be more attractive. 

I just kissed him. I didn’t know what else to do other than kiss him. He had to take a step back to support our combined weight. Harvey’s arms were strong around my waist, his lips reassuring and just as firm as his grip. 

“I love you too, Harvey. So fucking much.”

____

The comforters pulled tight, Harvey's body pressed behind mine… I couldn’t think of a more relaxing way to end the night. Especially after I slipped to my knees in the shower and showed him just how much I loved him. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming about having you in my arms one night. All night long.”

I hummed, scooting back so his chest met my back, his legs molding with mine. “I may have fantasized about it once or twice as well.” “Have you now?” “Again, there are several versions of Claudia you haven’t met before.” “And I look forward to coaxing every single one of them out with my mouth… my tongue… my hands… my-”

“Tomorrow,” I whispered, letting my eyes lull shut. “We can do it all again tomorrow. On the table, on the counter, on the couch-” “You’re not helping the situation here, you know,” he tugged at my half-dried hair. “Don’t get me started, sweetheart. I just might not let you get any sleep tonight.”

I clenched my thighs together. This was going to be such a sweet, tortuous game to play. And I got to play it every day. Every night, if I wanted. He wouldn’t be able to resist me. I had a secret weapon.

“Whatever you say, sir.”

His hand was wrapped around my throat, forcing my head to turn back to look at him. He clicked his tongue, eyes more awake than they had been a few minutes ago. “Oh sweet, innocent little Claudia. I guess you haven’t learned your lesson yet. It’s okay, I’d be happy to give you more instruction. I think I recall saying that eventually I would break you down over and over again until all you could remember was my name and how to breathe. Well, sweetheart. What do you think? Because I think you can still form coherent thoughts. I think it’s time we change that, don’t you?” I nodded, “Yes.”

His grip tightened and tightened and tightened. “Yes what?”

I smirked, climbing into his lap and taking him into my hand. “Yes, sir.”

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

shhhh pretend you do not see what day of the week it is (dear brain, please get back into a routine!) Happy Frunday? Back again with another round of the fic I've been reading this month. Deep in my 'Chris' away, now what' feels. You can find previous rec lists here.

14 July 2024

not a demon, there's a reason by @ithilien-writes oooooh my god I love 'kid learns about their parent's past' fic, and the Chris season 8 set up is just a gold mine for it. Here's an absolutely incredible entry into the fic canon, in which Chris, bored and lonely in Texas, stumbles upon Eddie's teenage diary. He reads it as a conduit to learning more about Shannon than his Dad has ever told him, and in doing so comes to understand Eddie like he never did before. (I would also recommend reading other fic from this author for some lovely interconnected story telling and further insight into some of Eddie's teenage secrets.)

kid, you better come home by @wildehacked is a short one shot with Buck's POV on Chris being away, navigating calls to him, established but relatively new bucktommy, and how Buck copes with all that whilst looking after Eddie and nurturing their queerplatonic family set up. A really interesting exploration of Chris and Buck's relationship with the basis that 'Every other time Chris has fought with Eddie, he’s gone to Buck.' I love Chris' voice in this, it's so well captured.

i’ve seen a couple suns that set forever by @cal-daisies-and-briars '“So?” Chris asks. “You’ve said things are going to change before, and it always ends up with people leaving, and me feeling terrible all over again. How is it different now?”' in which Chris and Eddie go to family therapy, and Eddie comes out. Really wonderful exploration of how not everything is fixed so easily, and Eddie working to repair the damage whilst Chris works on understanding his Dad and coming to a place of forgiveness, whilst dealing with his own abandonment issues. Luckily a conversation with Bobby helps him look at his Dad in a new light.

my home is your body by @coldbam 'This is Buck’s first Pride. Sue him, he’s excited. He’s going all out.' After Buck and Tommy have a rather acrimonious split during Buck's first pride out, he discovers Eddie has had a very different night. There as an ally, Eddie embarks on some steep self discovery learning curves. Exploring grindr leads to a serious friends with benefits situationship, but of course there's no miscommunication over feelings here...right? Oh Buddie...what are we gonna do with you. A delightful comedy of errors whilst also being hot. Loved this!

let the world have its way with you and thousand times (which isn’t half enough) by @shitouttabuck in which Eddie convinces Buck to seize the day post-lightning strike by making a bucket list and helping him make his wishes a reality, from the smallest hopes to the biggest dreams. With a heaping of Buckley-Diaz family and firefam time, so much pining and longing and heart...and the most sweetly loving tree root metaphor I've ever read. Now with a gorgeous follow up fic to answer some of those lingering questions!

so far away but still so near by @exhuastedpigeon yes, yessss Eddie and Lucy and Ravi bestieism. In which, based on Frank's advice, 'Eddie Diaz learns who he is outside of being a father, builds some new friendships, and loves his best friend.' I really loved the dynamic that Eddie built up here, his tentative steps into finding friends outside of the support system he'd previously relied on, and the way it peeled back new facets of himself in order to love his loudest. Gorgeously written as always! Ravi and Lucy are just absolute bestie goals.

I know the words, I know the sounds by @try-set-me-on-fire in which 'Buck and Eddie dance at Tommy’s wedding.' Oh yeah, I see you SalTommy shippers, and I absolutely get it. As does Buck...sometimes the heart just wants what it wants, and what are you gonna do? Exploring the 'what if Tommy's the one to run off with his best friend' prompt to hilarious and heartwarming ends.

good pretender by @likeshipsonthesea an oldie but a goodie circa season 5, in which Buck and Ravi are secret fully platonic friends with casual sex benefits, Eddie pines A LOT, and everyone is just failing to communicate. I love the introspection here, what each character learns about themselves along the way, and how everything is eventually worked out. Give me season 8 Ravi main please show, I'm begging.

That's it for this week but I'm once again putting out a call for any Hen POV or henren ficrecs (please feel free to self rec), buddietommy, and canon compliant Tommy POV because I've fallen out of the loop!

[scarlet-fangs]

For the protective prompts: "You’d defy the gods, only for me?” "! would destroy the gods for you." 🤍🦢

Thank you for the ask my darling friend, I hope you will like this 🦇🖤 I’ve wanted to write for a while some forbidden romance thing for Felix, and this is perfect for it! This is some kind of Black Swan related because it fits perfectly with their dynamics. The music they listen to is from my Black Swan Spotify playlist (under the black swan tag!) Some warnings are very much needed – But it’s Felix after all so it has to be expected: Cullen bashing, Size kink, some nswf talks, mention of blood (kink) Felix’s very lovely hands…

Fic under the cut

Ever since I met him while driving my younger sister to the Cullens, they’ve been trying to keep me away from him. “He’s a monster, Black Swan! He kills people, Black Swan! He feeds of humans, Black Swan!” Who cares that he’s scary-looking and kills people? He’s tall and hot! He’s my mate! He complimented me about my patch jacket!

Carlisle was a little bit nicer about it than the rest of them. He felt maybe that it was his fault, because before Felix even said anything it was his “son” Edward who revealed the secret to me. On our second meeting, Felix himself admitted that he would not have told it to me this soon, he would have made things smoother even if I seemed to enjoy the vampire part. It was quite intriguing to him; how much I was fascinated by his fangs and the terrifying gleam his skin had in the sun, but it relieved him when I didn’t run away. When I did not pull back from his touch.

He had quite the reputation, my mate, and the Cullens, especially Edward and Alice made sure I was aware of it, how cruel and brutal he was, how he was not called the executioner for nothing. But it did not scare me, because I knew even if he was that, he wasn’t only that, my Felix was so much more! So I texted him every time I had the time, called him at night if he was available, we could stay on the phone for hours, even if his voice did not sound exactly the same it was still enough for me. All of this was rather easy to hide from the Cullens, Alice wasn’t really focused on Felix in Italy, rather on a decision of him visiting Forks, with what it would entails for Bella. Because if Aro trusted my fate in Felix’s hands, it was clearly not the same kind of trust placed in the Cullens. So like in Romeo and Juliet that Bella liked so much, Felix and I had to hide, the Cullens even managing to make me miss one of his visits thanks to Bella’s help. I was really bitter, they caught us chatting one time in Seattle and now were watching us even more closely. They would even check my home once in a while, pretending to pick up Bella that was oh so conveniently spending the afternoon at my place, to smell if there was trace of Felix’s scent. But I was his, and he would not give up on me that easily. In facts, he would not give up on me at all, he told me one night over the phone. And I’d learned that he was quite stubborn, my Felix, when he wanted something.

I had come home late from work, that night. The Cullens weren’t there, they were visiting the Denali Coven, and Bella was visiting Renée to celebrate Phil’s birthday. She felt guilty about having to give up her human life, so she tried to make everyone happy as much as she could. It was nice, to not have them on my back this week. I quickly prepared and ate dinner, and took a shower, putting on a more comfortable attire. I’ve always liked some fresh air in the house, so I tend to keep some windows open. I was doing some cleaning downstairs when I heard some noise from my bedroom. I thought that it was maybe the neighbor’s cat that came again through the window by climbing the tree, he already did it twice. I liked having him around, the little ball of black fur and soft meows, even if I liked it more when he would enter the house by the windows downstairs. I climbed the stairs, really to scold the kitty when I entered my room and realize it was not a black kitty that I would be scolding, but a hulking vampire.

“Felix! What are you doing here?!” “I was expecting a little more enthusiasm from you little love.”

“You’re lucky the Cullens aren’t in town! They don’t want me to see you! They’d try to fight you if they knew you were here, sneaking in my bedroom like that!”

« These Cullens, they are nothing for me. You shouldn’t worry about them tesorina. They should be the ones afraid to put themselves between us. As if those vegetarian vampires could defy me! I’d defy gods if I had to protect you.

"You’d defy the gods, only for me?”  I looked at you, so softly.

“Oh darling, but I would destroy the gods for you” Felix answered, oh so sure of himself. And he was strong, very strong my mate, I knew he’d win a fight even against a god. My handsome mate…

“I lost you, didn’t I?” Felix said, having recognized that look on my face. “No!” I looked very much embarrassed, he knew damn well how to tease me and get a reaction from me. It did not make me love him less… I could only love him more, my darling Felix, that currently had a smug smile on his face.

“So what do you suggest?” “We could ignore everything that isn’t us, and I could spend the night in your bed…” “Felix!” “You belong in my arms little one, nowhere else. And if anyone decides against it, they’ll see the true definition of anger…” Felix answered me, menaces laced in his tone, so sure of himself. He looked particularly imposing, hulking figure with the backlighting of my bedroom.

He fits so well here, my Felix, with the band posters hung on the walls, the shelves full of dark movies and alternative music, leather jacket reflecting the dim lights, his shiny silver rings on his big hands…

“You’re staring at my hands again, don’t you? Do you know how they could look better? With my fingers buried inside you, my hand glistening coated in your…” “Felix please! Not that I wouldn’t enjoy it but…“ Now I’m very embarrassed, and I’m sure it’s very visible.

My reaction makes him laugh, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world, and it completely makes up for my embarrassment.

“I’m only teasing you amore mio. I know you said you wanted to wait, and I will respect your desire. Always. I’m up for anything with you as long as it’s within the boundaries you’ve set.”

Felix gets closer to me, slowly, and wraps his strong arms around me. He totally dwarfs me, and it’s no secret that we both are very into it, another proof that we were made for the other.

“Cuddles and metal?” “Cuddles and metal. But can you… take off your leather jacket please?” “Sure, if it makes my little darling happy…” With a smirk, he takes his time to remove his leather jacket, placing it on the back of my chair on top of mine. He’s only wearing an Iron Maiden tank top underneath, the logo a bit faded telling he’d own it for a while, that shows off all of his perfect muscles. Damn, to think that this man is all mine… He turns on the stereo, and then join me on the bed, the mattress digging with his heavy weight. He makes himself comfortable, setting up a few of my pillows behind his back, and then he opens his arms. I don’t need anything else, and nearly jump on him, making myself comfortable on his lap, his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer against him. I softly trace the muscles on his arms, looking at the scars that cover his skin. Most were from his fights as a vampire, but he told me while that some were from his human life, being a gladiator must have been a nightmare for he was a slave without a choice in the matter.

“This song makes me think of you, now every time I hear it, I see your face.” Felix’s voice shake me out of those dark thoughts. I focus on the song, and recognize Wasp.

Her eyes reflect like the rain on the pavement I take control, she explodes, sink into her depths I'm the tremble in her voice when she attempts to speak Fixate on the frailty

“Motionless in White sure has good love songs. I must admit that every time I hear Wasp or Eternally Yours, I think of you.” It makes the both of us smile, the songs fitting us oh so perfectly, especially the lewd lyrics of Wasp. Felix has always been… quite explicit.

 So come to me No sense of restraint So come for me I will wait endlessly

I will break you carefully So take me harmfully You fit so perfect I will wait

I let my fingers trace the scars on his arms again, I know how fond of physical contact my Felix is. I must admit that I am too… He grabs the remote of my stereo, and lowers the sound of the music to a cozier one.

“Lost in the shadows?”   I giggle. “What’s wrong with the Lost Boys? It’s a good vampire movie. I’m still bitter at the fate of the boys… Besides, you’ve got the vibes” It makes him laugh, but we both know I’m not wrong. He’s kind of got the look and music taste, and some of the brutality when it comes to protecting whom he loves. And he would look very hot and sexy covered in blood too…

“You’re imagining me covered in blood, aren’t you?” “How do you even…” “I know you, little love” “Too much, you know me too much…” “I could never know too much about you, not even after a few decades, centuries, never.”

It makes me smile, and I curl up further in his embrace. It’s getting late.

“We should listen to something softer to help you sleep…” “First, I’m not even  dressed for bed yet, and second, ,what’s heavy about L’assasymphonie?” “It’s about a man who can’t sleep and is drowning in despair because of his demons. Not really the type of songs that put you to sleep.” “Do you realized I used to fall asleep blasting Maiden when I was younger?” “Yes, and now you enjoy softer songs before going to bed. This is much better, get in your night attire now.” Felix has changed the music to eyes without a face by Billy Idol, and I must admit it’s a good choice. This man knows me too well. I strip of my black jeans, and take off my shirt. I put on a Black Veil Brides tee, one that’s a size too big and go back to bed. I slip under the covers, and realize Felix had taken off a few layers too so I would be more comfortable. He brings me close to him, his arms wrapping around my waist once again, pressing me against his muscular body.

“Sleep now, tesorina. I’ll keep you safe.” Felix whisper in my ear. “Goodnight my love”, I whisper back. No matter what these idiots Cullens say, nothing will stop me from wanting this, fighting to get this, my Felix. I belong in his embrace and nowhere else.

[bucketbender]

So, I’ve seen some criticism of the 5th season of Solar opposites. I would like to propose counter arguments in a disciplined and respectful manner. Don’t yell at me.

Spoilers ahead, of course :

"The dynamic is too different, it looks like a fanfic"

Okay. So, this one first. I see where you’re coming from. There’s cute nicknames all the time, they’re always banging, Tervo is a bit too "always there" in the episodes. I get it, it changes a lot.

But it didn’t just completely change because they got married. It completely changed because the Valentines episode broke everything they thought they knew about each other. At first, Terry and Korvo were friends. Then they became such good friends that they would kiss sometimes on the lips. They tongue kiss in season 4 (not before I think), because that’s how much they feel a connection with the other. But they still think that their species doesn’t have love. It’s just really strong teammate affinity, right ? Yeah. It has to be. What else ?

(Not to mention that they’re both morons AND cartoon characters. Give them a break, they’re as sharp as a declawed kittens.)

And when the Valentines episode happens, they finally learn that they can feel love. And that they love each other. Their stupid minds were blown to ash. If they’re in love, they can do everything they wouldn’t dare to do before, everything that seemed kind of taboo. They can get married, kiss tongue anywhere, give each other romantic nicknames, say they love each other as much as they want.

That’s why I think this season was so… intense with Tervo. The next season will probably calm down and focus more on the family, while still keeping the love and cute nicknames between the two.

"Cherry becomes evil out of nowhere"

It might seem weird, but when it happened in front of my screen, I wasn’t really shocked. I just thought "oh… well, there it is."

As Cherry said herself : she never once tried to take the power. All she ever did was trying to help people, survive and protect her daughter. The wall took literally everything from her and spit her out. The only good thing about it is her child (and Montez).

She did nothing but play the hero over and over and was just really happy when she was away from it all with Pezlie. But that’s not the wall/backyard works. It will always be there, this society full of tiny people led by tiny dictators. And it will always be a menace for her and her child.

So if she can’t run, can’t hide, can’t keep playing hero, what else can she do ? Lead. "What you need is a queen". And you know ? In a way, she’s right. This society needs something or someone that will bring order to it. Real order. Everyone will live in the same place, food will be rationed (for the sick people, for winter, etc), and there will be laws. It’s what this place needs so that there will be no more freaking wars and conspiracies to fight or run from.

And yes, she does look pretty evil when she says that, especially when she orders them to bow. Because she snapped, she’s done. She got thrown into a lego hole, betrayed, stabbed, heartbroken, abandoned, left for dead by this society, and the only thing that matters to her from now one is to protect her kid and makes sure she grows up alright.

Then again… the god status she unlocked when the grass grew back just when she took over might make her actually join the dark side. We’ll see.

"Glenn’s story is so uninteresting and I freaking hate Tomblr"

For this one… I can’t really blame you. I was pretty disappointed that Zy and Glenn didn’t reunite. But I have to admit that I kind of liked Tomblr.

Just like every other planet, his home was ruled and ruined by Silvercops. They abused him and his family his whole life. Yet, he still joined them to change them from the inside, make it better, make it good. He believed in this dream so much he joined the ones who ruined his life to help people.

Even though everyone around him probably said "they’re way too dangerous" or "why join them, because you actually like them ?" or "you won’t even make it through the first training". No one believed in him, everyone bullied him but he persevered. So I get why he didn’t want to listen to Glenn when he told him to give up.

Even though we saw him blow up, I just hope he’s not actually dead yet, because that would be disappointing.

[tabithatwo]

i humbly request some of your jackienat thoughts at this time

I am humbly providing many many days after you asked!

Jackienat in canon: god I’ve talked about them at length before but there two as individuals are my little sweetie snookums lovebug angels (I love all the yellowjackets but god god god I love them); they are the two girls who I believe are the most invested in the team as a whole. I think they would’ve been amazing co-captains side note (not me suddenly considering writing a short little au something about them being captains together GOD). I think that it’s been said very well by many people, but they are so tethered. They want what’s best for all the girls, they love hard, and they do NOT get that energy in return enough. I don’t really understand why people come to the conclusion that they hated each other. I DEFINITELY don’t get why people come to the conclusion that they hated each other PRE crash, because there’s nothing negative show between them when we DO see other girls be bitchy to Nat and make fun of Jackie’s earnestness, but it’s never these two against each other. Nat is very vocally anti freeze her out, everyone knows innately that Jackie would be without even asking. I’ve spoken about their fight at length before, so without getting too far into that I will just say I think the way it escalates and gets so emotional and personal is very very telling. I don’t think they’ve fought before, Nat is clearly more emotional than when the other girls are cruel to her which I think means she didn’t expect it from Jackie, Nat hits back with a threat/fights back instead of brushing it off like she usually does. I think it’s fucking tragic that they fought and never got to reconcile, because they both are the type to hold guilt and sadness over that shit. Them teaming up at doomcoming against the crazy, the way Jackie would’ve lived if Nat were home for her and Shauna’s fight, the eulogy Nat gives Jackie when she takes her bones to the plane. They are just tragic and beautiful and we’re robbed of the chance to be truly close friends, because I really do think that’s the trajectory they were on.

Jackienat platonically: oh GOD do I love them. I can’t wait to explore their dynamic in we practice resurrection every night. I talked a lot about how I think they’d be close above but I also heavily hc that jackienat and shaunalottie each made out at least one party in high school respectively. They are so special to me. Sweet girls with huge hearts and very curated protective exteriors beloved beloved beloved.

Jackienat romantically: I love it so much. I am a jackieshauna and lottienat at heart (clearly lmao) but I LOVE them as a stop on the way to those endgames. I think they’d be surprisingly soft and sweet as a pairing and I think that they’d be able to help each other through the ummmm tougher times of shauna and lottie’s less than ideal behaviors lol. (I LOVE BOTH SHAUNA AND LOTTIE DEEPLY but they have some very rough tendencies that would be hard as their partner and I think some commitment issues/stumbling blocks to get to a healthy (healthy for yj) relationship status, just objectively lmao). Jackienat is hot and fun and kind and loving and the type of young dyke relationship that leads to really close lifelong friendship no one can ever change my mind on that <3 they should kiss <3

[crystcllise]

cursed child london year 7 cast

the other week i got to see the year 7 london cast of cursed child and i am AMAZED!!! such a strong cast of wonderful performers across the board and i was absolutely blown away with their performances! you can tell they really understand their characters and have really worked on the dynamics and relationships with each other to create a realistic interpretation of these beloved characters!!

as always, i’m always watching the scorbus duos to see the little things they do with each other and i just want to say that ellis and harry’s scorbus is such a delight!!! they’re definitely my fav pair now hands down! such a sweet youthful portrayal of albus and scorpius and their dynamic on stage is so so pure i adored them sooo much!!

i got to meet ellis and harry after the show and ellis knew who i was and hugged me im fine

like broadway, i took some very unhinged notes so behold, read below all my unedited notes on (mainly scorbus) but the year 7 cast of cursed child!

ELLIS ALBUS IS SO SKRUNKLY AND SMALL AND CUTE HELP ME

james sings the end of his lines and it’s SO FUNNY

it genuinely looked like scorpius was leaning in to kiss albus after he tells him to come to the funeral

harry putting his legs up on the desk and trying to touch his toes while hermione is scolding him in his office and she just 😐

BREAD BREAD WHATS WRONG WITH BREAD??? scorpius was very excited about the bread

scorpius’ hand on albus’ chest when the train started

scorpius protectively putting his entire arm over albus’ chest in st oswald’s when amos pulled his wand out

scorpius as harry was the FUNNIEST SHIT EVER THE VOICE CRACKS AND THE LITTLE JUMPS david absolutely nailed the harry!scorpius mannerisms

“WIZZO!” (jump and finger guns) i love one skrunkly boy

scorpius looking so shocked and terrified when delphi grabbed albus’ hand and kissed his cheek

once delphi kissed albus’ cheek, she turned around to face scorpius and both of them look SO REPULSED like absolutely not get away from me

edge of the forest !!! scorpius looked so happy to call albus his best friend and albus was so shocked and so in awe (people in the crowd literally awwwed at it)

albus looking at scorpius so admirably at the triwizard tournament while he was geeking out

i’ve never seen such longing stares in the staircase ballet what the fuck

delphi’s ‘you two you belong together’ was just sooo knowing like jess!delphi is a scorbus advocate

ellis’ hair 🥰🥰🥰🥰

the collective gasp from the audience when albus said he wasn’t a loser before he met scorpius in the library… OUCH

hermione crying after ron said ‘my hermione’ and trying to hide her tears when ron kept talking to her

SCORPIUS AND THE DEMENTORS !!!! harry!scorpius absolutely devoured idk

scorpius’ scream when albus came up in the water SENT ME he squealed to the rooftops

ITS HARRYYY (the highest pitched scream i’ve ever heard scorpius was VERY excited)

hermione in tears after mcgonagall’s office and rose just running into her arms when she sees her crying oh i love them

intense staring in slytherin dorms holy mother of god

the massive scream cry delphi did in the owlery HOLY SHIT it like mimicked the cry of an augurey bird it was SO GOOD i was genuinely scared for a hot second

delphi’s “looOooooooOove” when looking at scorpius and pointing out albus’ weakness oh jess vickers my queen devours every time + albus unable to look at scorpius and scorpius in utter shock

WAIST GRAB WAIST GRAB AND SCORPIUS’ HAND ON ALBUS’ IM COMING UP when albus and scorpius had to hide from lily with the blanket, albus literally just stood behind scorpius with his hand on his waist and scorpius had his hand on top of albus’ it was sooooo adorable

harry crying in his office after talking to the dumbledore portrait and draco walking in, giving a ‘i ain’t dealing with this’ face and turning to walk out LMFAO

“ugh, is that a farmers market?” steve!draco HATES FARMERS MARKETS HELP

scorpius jumping into draco’s arms when reunited :’)

albus and scorpius literally sitting on each other in st jerome’s, their legs against each other and albus leaning into scorpius’ shoulder they’re so :((

hermione and albus are definitely close and i live for it she was so warm and comforting to him in st jerome’s this is all i’ve dreamed of

“and now i think you’re finding wonderful clarity” and GINNY LOOKING OVER AT SCORPIUS GOD SHE KNOWSS

the staring in the final staircase scene and ROSE WATCHING WITH UTTER SATISFACTION

albus’ hand on scorpius’ chest after rose interrupts and brushing it off with a fake yawn HELP

“you good albus?” “mhm” ROSE GIGGLING AND SKIPPING OFF STAGE AND LOOKING AT ALBUS AND SCORPIUS SO KNOWINGLY MY BEST GIRL

the closeness after the hug when scorpius says ‘new version of us’

SCORPIUS DOING FINGER GUNS ON NEW VERSION OF US THEY BOTH DID FINGER GUNS AT EACH OTHER ALBUS DID THEM BACK THEY ARE SO SILLY

scorpius waving, albus waving, scorpius turning to leave, giggling and waving again I FEEL ILL

david!harry completely understands albus’ love for scorpius and you can really tell in the final scene when albus tells him scorpius is the most important person in his life. he catches on throughout the show and it’s really nice to see him fully accept his son’s bond with scorpius and be content with it!!

like mentioned before, such an incredible cast and i am so sad i won’t get to see them again!!! they are truly wonderful and i hope a lot of you get to see them bc they are fantastic <3