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witchywithwhiskey · 1 month

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andy barber + "you don't need anything, you want it"

optional scenario: assassin/mercenary

undone by a pretty spring sundress

pairing: dilf!andy barber x babysitter!female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, unspecified age gap (but reader is def out of college), thigh riding, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, light bdsm, pet names (sweetheart, angel), some bratting, referenced spanking, fluffy ending

word count: 2,100ish

a/n: instead of assassin/mercenary Andy Barber, may i offer you dilf Andy Barber? 🫣 lol let's be honest, Andy is always a dilf 🤭 but i've already done ex's dad Andy and dbf August so i wanted to do a different trope and i've never done a babysitter fic so i gave it a shot!! hope you enjoy, Aspen!!

The sounds of shrieking laughter and childish games filtered into Andy Barber’s kitchen while you stood at the counter, putting together a bouquet of spring flowers that would sit nicely on his dining room table. You’d retreated into the house because you’d needed a break from the party Andy was hosting—the one he’d hired you for the afternoon to help him host.

It was a little outside your normal duties, since you typically worked as Andy’s babysitter, watching his young son on nights the single father had to work late at his law practice. You knew some of the parents in the neighborhood thought you were a little old to be babysitting, given you were old enough to be married and have a family of your own.

But you ignored them because you enjoyed babysitting for Andy. It helped supplement the meager pay you received from your day job, and you liked spending time with Andy’s son Jacob, who was a sweet kid. More than that, though, you found yourself really enjoying spending time with Andy.

And if you weren’t mistaken, Andy liked having you around as well.

In the months that you’d worked for Andy, you’d grown increasingly aware of the way he stared at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

His crystal blue eyes would drift down to your tits when you were looking something up on your phone. And more than once, you could’ve sworn you felt his gaze on your ass when you’d bent over to pick up some toys on the floor. But each time, when you turned to the older man, he was innocently looking elsewhere.

Altogether, you’d gotten the impression that Andy might want you to be more than his babysitter, but he hadn’t yet acted on the heated looks he gave you. So you may have taken matters into your own hands and worn a skimpy little sundress to the party he was hosting for the neighbors and all their kids. And you were delighted when it had the intended effect.

You hadn’t been in the kitchen for more than a few minutes when Andy cornered you, using the moment when everyone else was distracted by watching the children play a game they’d made up to approach you. His body crowded you into the counter, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him brushing against the swaths of bare skin not covered by your sundress.

“I need to speak to you upstairs,” Andy murmured in your ear. His warm breath ghosted over your cheek and bare shoulder, causing goosebumps to raise all along your arms.

But you stifled the shiver racing down your spine and continued fluffing the flowers in the vase in front of you, pretending you didn’t notice the demanding edge of Andy’s voice or the way he crowded into you. After all, he’d waited months to approach you, and you decided you wanted to have a little fun with him before you gave in to the tension crackling between the two of you.

“You don’t need anything, you want it,” you responded cheekily, your tone light and playful. “Isn’t that what you’re always telling Jacob, Mr. Barber?” You tossed your head to the side and gave the older man a sly smile over your shoulder.

Andy’s expression darkened, his soft mouth pulling down in a frown that was framed perfectly by his neatly trimmed beard. He looked particularly delicious in a simple blue t-shirt and jeans—though you also appreciated all the suits he wore for his job as a lawyer. You’d spent many a night imagining Andy undressing you entirely while he stayed all buttoned up in one of his suits, making you hump the bulge in his slacks…

Andy’s big hand wrapping around your upper arm brought you back from your distracted thoughts.

“I assure you, sweetheart, what I’m feeling is a need—not a want,” Andy growled, dragging you away from the counter and forcing you to abandon your bouquet. You didn’t protest, though, as he led you toward the stairs and up to the second floor of his suburban Massachusetts home.

Andy had only just pulled you into his bedroom and closed the door when he spun you around and crowded into you until your back hit the door. Then, with a muttered curse, Andy ducked down and captured your lips with his own, kissing you so passionately, your head spun.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back just as fervently, your mouth parting and allowing his tongue to twine with yours. He groaned into your lips as he tasted you, the deep sound of his pleasure making you hot all over, wetness gathering between your thighs while your mouths slid together. You squirmed against Andy’s hard body, pressing your softness against him as your body yearned for friction.

Andy shoved one of his legs between yours, his big hands gripping your hips tightly and shifting you so that your pussy rubbed against his thigh. You wrenched your mouth from his with a sharp gasp, your body rocking against his as pleasure shot through you from the tips of your fingers to the ends of your toes. Andy watched you with hooded eyes as you humped against him, hands sliding down your sides.

“Wish I could watch you ride my thigh all afternoon, angel, but I need to be inside you,” Andy groaned, reaching beneath your dress and hooking his fingers in your panties, moving you back to pull them down your trembling legs. You let out a little whine at the loss of friction against your pussy, but Andy only hushed you. “Shh, I know sweetheart, you’re needy too, aren’t ya? Need daddy to fuck you, huh?”

Your head fell back against the door with a thunk and you let out a breathy, surprised, “Daddy,” tasting the way the word sounded on your tongue and enjoying it far too much.

“That’s it, angel, call me daddy,” Andy murmured fervently before capturing your lips in another kiss. You could feel his hands working his jeans open and pulling out his cock, but you couldn’t move your arms from around his shoulders; you were pretty sure if you did, you’d collapse to his feet. “Christ, I knew ya would be perfect—been wanting this for so long, but that pretty spring sundress of yours was my undoing.”

A pleased smirk curled the edges of your mouth at Andy’s confession, and you decided you’d tell him later that had been your intention with wearing it. For the moment, though, you simply leaned up to whisper some teasing words in Andy’s ear. “If you need me so bad, then take me, daddy.”

Andy hooked an arm around your waist and spun you again, walking you back to his bed and easing you down onto the plush softness of his blankets while his hips settled between your thighs. His cock rested against your bare pussy, making you moan with desire.

“Gonna have to make this quick, sweetheart,” Andy murmured as he brushed kisses to your jaw and cheeks, his hips grinding his length against your soaked folds, getting himself drenched in your arousal. “But next time I’ll fuck you soft and slow like you deserve, alright?”

“OK, daddy,” you said on a moan, tilting your hips to grind your bare pussy against his cock. Andy buried a grunt in your neck and reached between your bodies, adjusting his cock until the tip pressed against your entrance.

Then, all at at once, Andy pushed inside you, both of you moaning at the feel of his thick, hard cock stretching out your tight, warm pussy. It was better than you ever imagined, having him inside you, your body taking his entire length and joining you to him in the most intimate way.

“Feel so good, daddy,” you murmured breathily, your mind spinning with pleasure. You cupped Andy’s face in your hands, your nails raking through his beard gently, as you stared up at him. You hoped every bit of the pleasure you felt was clear on your face, so he could see how good he made you feel.

Andy seemed to, his smile filled with affection and arousal of his own. He leaned down and brushed a kiss to your lips, teasing you with the flick of his tongue before pulling away and catching your eye.

“Ready, angel?”

“Yes, daddy,” you answered sweetly, more ready for him than he could even know.

Then Andy took what he needed, and gave you what you needed, too. He fucked you hard and fast, pumping his thick cock into your tight channel with a ruthlessness you’d only ever glimpsed when he’d take work calls at home. He was brutal, and you wanted to scream your pleasure, but Andy’s hand covered your mouth, keeping you from being overheard by all the neighbors crowded in the backyard.

When he seemed to be getting close, Andy reached between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight little circles until you shattered apart around him. You came so hard, you bit down on the flesh of his palm to keep yourself quiet.

Andy didn’t seem to mind, grunting through the sting of your teeth and the delicious clench of your pussy, fucking you harder until he pressed deep and came inside you. You shivered when you felt his load leak out around his cock, in awe when you realized just how much come he must’ve pumped you full of that it was overflowing.

As you caught your breath, Andy peppered your face with light kisses, praising you. “Such a good girl, sweetheart, so fucking good for daddy.” He kissed the apple of your cheek, his beard tickling you and making you giggle softly. “Now, I need you to keep my come safe inside you for the rest of the afternoon, can you do that, angel?” Andy asked, catching your eye and giving you a serious look. His hand pressed against your lower belly, making your pussy flutter while butterflies took flight in your chest.

It was on the tip of your tongue to simply say yes, but a delightful thought took hold of your mind and you found your lips forming the same words they had earlier in Andy’s kitchen. “You don’t need anything, daddy, you want it,” you said, giggling when Andy’s face turned stormy.

“You’re lucky we have to get back to our guests, angel,” Andy growled pressing his forehead to yours while he glared at you, though there wasn’t much anger to his gaze—only desperate arousal. “Otherwise I’d put you over my knee and show you what I do when you’re a bratty bad girl.”

You were helpless to your body’s reaction to his words, your cunt clenching hard around Andy’s cock and making him chuckle. “I need it, daddy,” you cried, hands fisting in his t-shirt and trying to hold him close.

But Andy was already moving away, pulling out and stuffing his cock back in his pants. You watched him with a pout while he grinned down at you. When his appearance was presentable enough, Andy hauled you up from the bed and smoothed your dress down over your curves, fixing it for you.

“Be a good girl and help me get through the rest of this party and we can have some fun later,” Andy promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then, like he couldn’t help himself, he caught your mouth in one last deliciously sinful kiss.

You returned to the party with Andy, finishing your bouquet of spring flowers and putting it out on the table. Then, you helped him wrangle the kids and their parents for dessert, everyone enjoying the beautiful spring evening.

If anyone from the neighborhood noticed that, after you returned, Andy treated you more like his partner than his babysitter, they didn’t say anything. (In fact, in the weeks and months that followed, when it became clear the two of you were together, each of your neighbors would try to take credit for setting the two of you up.) When everyone left, they thanked you just as much as Andy for hosting the wonderful party.

Once everyone was gone and you’d helped Andy put Jacob to bed, he delivered on his promise of rewarding you for your good behavior. Later that night when you told him you’d worn your skimpy little outfit just to see if he’d finally make a move on you, Andy chuckled and murmured that he’d forgive your naughty trick just that once. Then, he made sure to show you just how undone he was by your pretty spring sundress.

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x you #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #buckets-and-trees

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thatsdemko · 7 months

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maybe I’m crazy - m.verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x ricciardo!reader

warnings: slightly unedited

he doesn’t believe in love at first sight. it’s too tacky and Hallmark-y to ever happen to him. but he believes in something at first sight, because the way he feels right now might not be love, but it pierces it’s way into his head and all the way down his heart.

your smile is warm and inviting, similar to the one of your older brother, Daniel. he had a way with the people, and you seemed to be just about the same. you’d looped max in at first sight, and he felt safe under your gaze. it was something he was so unfamiliar with.

the way he was able to talk for hours and you were there to listen and piece his puzzle together, he’ll never forget that. especially years later, when he’s won three world championships and the only thing he cares about is making you proud.

the world championships didn’t matter to you, in fact, formula one didn’t even really exist much in your little bubble with max, but you couldn’t turn down his invitation. he had his own ways of pulling you in as well.

it was his bright lost eyes. the ones that you could swim oceans deep in and still be able to find your way home. max verstappen was complicated to many, but he was never more clear with you.

his arms fling around his team. it’s first instinct, after all these years he knows who he has to acknowledge first, and while his father waits beside you for his moment, he skips right past him.

“proud of you.” the whisper is so soft you’re sure you’re hallucinating, but it’s max. anything that falls from his lips tunes your ears in. you’re dialed into his station, you’re his number one listener.

“me?”

taken by surprise, you point your finger into your chest, he nods. it’s all he gets out before being whisked away by Red Bull team members.

there was nothing you did to contribute to this race. but your presence makes max fight for your attention. with Daniel out, and Liam in, it was much easier to win.

not that he ever felt the need to fight his brother-in-law, but max verstappen never got the better end of the stick with childhood validation. even just a glance his way, he’s struck by gold.

“you’re crazy.” you whisper into his chest. the silence fills the room, but his heartbeat is all your ears can hear.

“me?” he asks. lifting his head up, he has a view of your curly hair fluffed over your face, “you’re crazy for me.”

“yeah, maybe I am.”

a soft chuckle rumbles through his chest. your ears heat, and your heart flutters in a way it always does when you make him happy.

“you make me crazy, ricciardo.”

“we agreed on verstappen. I’m your family now.”

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix @leclerc13 @goldenalbon

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lilibethwrites · 2 years

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Head that Wears the Crown

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader

There is only one woman in the whole of Westeros who can get inside Aemond’s Targaryen’s head. On the night of Aegon II’s coronation, Aemond’s beloved wife, Y/N Targaryen is not happy with who wears the crown, and she seduces her husband into making a move that might change the order of succession in a mere turn of the moon.

Warnings: smut, incest

A.N: Reader is Rhaenyra and Daemon’s daughter and married to Aemond. This is somewhat darker than what I usually write, but it’s also something I’ve been meaning to write while I’m still working on the requests I’ve received.

Word count: 1958

You were at the Dragonpit earlier, standing tall and proud with your husband by your side as Aegon was crowned as the true King. Within you, however, the fire of a dozen dragons burnt bright and tall. The same fire also burned inside your husband as he grunted and scoffed, your hand in his was squeezed to the point of discomfort—pain, even, as he tried to restrain himself.

It should have been you. It should have been Aemond. The legacy of Aegon the Conqueror was insulted when his crown was placed upon the head of the disgraceful, reproachable man you had the displeasure of calling your brother-in-law.

And Helaena? Old Gods and new had to band together to save your family from doom if she were to rule alongside her brother.

What you devised required a clear head on your part and Aemond’s both to blossom. You allowed him to take a flight on Vhagar to clear his head, and spar with Ser Criston afterwards until his arms and knees threatened to give out.

Then you knew where to find him as if you’d placed him there by your own hand. In the new, spacious bedchamber in addition to yours, gifted to you as Aegon and Helaena vacated it. You suspected it was a consolation gift from Alicent. A mere room for the Seven Kingdoms.

The room was spacious. The floor was tiled with veiny marbles imported from Dorne between smooth stones and the walls were covered in rich tapestries; and it was dark, illuminated by what seemed like a dozen candles and the fire from the fireplace alone. In the middle was a tub partially obscured by a silk curtain left ajar, and within it was Aemond with his arms hanging out on each side, his slender fingers drumming on the side of the cold tub with a servant carefully scrubbing his broad shoulders.

Your entrance did not go unnoticed, and you relieved the servant of the frightful duty. She had heard the tales from other girls who’s heard them from others: Aemond was cruel and short-tempered. He’s beaten and maimed people on a whim. On an evening like this in particular, it was easy as a pie to get on his nerves.

“Leave us,” you ordered, and she set down the rag and scurried away eagerly. Aemond’s face was turned away from his Princess wife, you, and towards the fireplace that extended all the way up to the high ceiling. It gave his face a soft tinge of warmth, he almost looked less intimidating.

“My love.”

Only a hum.

You took a fluffed-up pillow from the bed and kneeled on it beside the tub, to which Aemond finally turned his head. You only hoped it was washed thoroughly. Even through heavy stockings, you were revolted to kneel on only Gods knew what touched before. Knowing Aegon, it was nothing decent.

“What a day we’ve had,” you whispered, dipping the rag in water.

“Hm.”

You began with his arm, scrubbing gently and slowly before moving up to his shoulder, following the muscular curve of it in circles.

“Talk to me, husband,” you whispered again, much closer to his ear this time, and sealed your seduction with a kiss to his neck.

From the way his chest rose and fell, you knew he was giving in to you.

“Aegon is…” he sighed. Aemond shared your dislike for Aegon but his sense of duty and his commitment to his family tied his tongue. You, however, were also his family, and you were determined.

“A drunkard and a charlatan, yes. Not at all the knight and the scholar you are. The heirloom of Aegon belonged to you and you alone, my love.”

You dipped the rag into the water once again, this time rubbing his chest. He caught your heavy-lidded eyes and licked his lips like a man starved before a feast.

“Aegon is the king, now. This is treason,” Aemond spoke through gritted teeth. The words of his older brother’s coronation were heavy on his pride and difficult to speak.

“So be it. Then we shall hang together.”

You trailed down from his chest to his abdomen. His muscles under your rag tightened. He could foresee your next move as with shaky breaths that bordered on sweet mewls and moans, you let go of the rag and pressed your palm on his skin.

“Hand in hand in death as we are in life, my love,” your fingers travelled down a patch of light hair that led to his manhood.

He was growing hard already and twitched in your palm when you gave his cock a light squeeze and a pump. Aemond’s hips shifted as he slid down the tub, his legs spread wider to accommodate your conduct.

His breath was heavier also, shaking with each up-and-down slide of your hand around his shaft and with kisses pressed to the corners of his lips.

“Aegon cannot hurt you, love. No one can while I am around,” he grunted. His head was thrown back in pleasure though his eye was trained on your face still.

“Mmm, husband. What would I do without you?” You purred in his ear, scratching with your words the spot that pleased him the most.

Aemond wasn’t a man to be manipulated, but you were a woman not to be underestimated. Your hold over him was stronger than most knew. Perhaps even Aemond himself didn’t always know just how much of his decisions were placed in his head by his dear wife.

“It was not right,” his lips loosened up between grunts as you picked up the pace with your strokes. “He—he should not have—” he stuttered between gasps and huffs.

“We can make it right. My dear husband, we can make it right,” You could tell he was close. A hand on the curved corner of the tub clutched the marble so tight that veins on top of his hand and around his forearm popped up. He hissed through gritted teeth with each stroke you gave him from the hilt to the tip.

He was burning up, too. When you pressed quick but wet kisses all over his neck and jaw, your lips felt as if you’ve kissed hot coals.

“How?”

You knew the signs all too well. You knew when to press on, and much to your husband’s dismay, you knew when to pull back. With a disappointed groan from Aemond’s throat, you pulled your hand out of the water and began slowly to loosen up the bodice of your dress.

He watched you with a heavy-lidded eye and a heavier heave of his chest. The heavy silk of your gown slid down from your shoulders and bared your naked breasts to your husband. He cupped one, massaging and squeezing, desperate to feel more of you.

Aemond’s wet hand raised goosebumps on your skin. There was the familiar, sweet building up of heat and ache between your legs, as well. You needed him just as he needed you. Though before you allowed yourself to indulge, the matter at hand needed Aemond to be resolved on a particular solution—and who better than you, his darling wife, to make it happen?

You cupped his cheek and brushed your lips against his before sliding your tongue between his parted lips. It was more of a promise of things that might come, so you pulled back when his hand tangled in your hair to deepen the kiss.

“There is a way, my love.”

You had Aemond just the way you wanted then: panting and gasping, trembling, silently begging to be touched, to be inside you. Your thumb caressed his lips, and he watched you expectantly.

“Though some might say it shall visit a curse upon us—”

“You are asking me to… to—”

“Not quite. Not a slit throat, or a sword through the heart. But… you do fly together occasionally. Above the clouds, above even where the Gods cannot reach you. If a dreadful accident were to happen…”

“It would be—”

“It would be the only way to ensure there would be no protests to your coronation,” your hand wrapped around his neck gently, your thumb stroking the vein that ran from the side of his sensitive flesh. You could feel the flow of his hot blood when you pressed your finger down on it.

Aemond leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. If it wasn’t an immediate no, it was a yes. A reluctant one, maybe even an afraid one—and could you blame him considering the weight of what you just asked of him?— but it was a yes.

Your hand dipped into the water and down between his legs again, and you started stroking his already-stimulated cock, this time to bring him to his peak.

“Leave Helaena to me. I know you are fond of her,” Though the idea that Aemond was keen on her made it all the more alluring to do away with her in a more permanent manner, you had to tread carefully and make your calculations precisely. Your plan was as delicate as it was dangerous. If you turned greedy, it could collapse.

“I shall ensure she disappears without damage. This, I promise to you, my love. But Aegon,” you squeezed him, and he reached down to grab your wrist, making your hand resume its movement.

“Aegon must…”

“I will do it,” he finally agreed to your plan. The hesitation in his voice was palpable, but you knew your husband to be a man of his word. He would do it if he promised he would.

So you kissed him one more time as he guided your hand around his cock, only a few more strokes away from release. You didn’t resist when he bit your lip and swirled his tongue around yours.

“I shall be the kinslayer to put a crown on your head, my dear, wicked wife,” he murmured against your lips. It took one to know one. And that was all you needed to hear, so you worked his cock just the way that he liked—the way that drew out ragged moans from his trembling lips.

He came panting, chasing his pleasure with erratic and desperate jolts and rolls of his hips. You let him, and he fucked your hand until the last drop of his load.

Aemond’s head was thrown back, his eye shut tight with tremors still going through his hips and groin. He only looked at you when he heard the rustling of your skirt on the stone and marble floor. He watched you—exhausted and having barely caught his breath— as you stepped out of your dress and joined him in the tub. Bubbled bath water splashed on the floor as you straddled him.

“My king,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and his breath hitched in his throat. If he wasn’t convinced of the plan before, hearing the words from your mouth certainly sealed the deal for him.

“My cruel, cruel queen.”

“Only to our enemies, my love. Only to those who would do nought but menace to us.”

“Oh, whatever would I do without you?” Aemond teased, mockery laced with playfulness. You could let him entertain any notion he liked as long as you got your wishes.

He was growing hard under you again with each roll of your hips. As his head bowed down to take your nipple in his mouth, you guided him inside you.

A shared moan escaped your lips as he filled you to the brim and your walls fluttered around him.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” he pleaded.

You had no such plans. Not for the night, nor for the future.

Aemond Tag (let me know if you’d like to be added to it):

@cherishedauthor @schniiipsel @verycollectivecreator @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @aemcndtargaryen @m1ndbrand @iorveth-scoiatael @let-love-bleeds-red @imakeangelscry @midnightindiewolf @queereddie @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @nighttwingg @mllemarianne @lomllino @tinykryptonitewerewolf @mirandastuckinthe80s @loverandqueenofdragons @fultimefangirl @lenasvoid @leilani788 @theekinslayer @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @m00n5t0n3 @paprikaquinn @dearbaji

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon

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0oolookitsme · 5 months

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But Baby, It's Cold Outside

Type - One-Shoty Blurb!

Verse - Singer!Harry x Ceo!Y/n

Word Count - 1.2k

Warnings - None, just some tooth rotting fluff ;)

A/N - Y/n blushes so hard in this one I was legit smiling while writing the ending lmao. Hope you guys like it just as much! <3

MASTERLIST | Please rb to share!

Y/n was on her knees on the carpeted floor, her hands stacking things up on the Christmas mantel that she had been set on decorating since she'd opened her eyes this morning. Her knees hurt because of the hardwood floor, but it was better than having to bend down while standing up, nevertheless.

They were surprisingly late to decorate for Christmas this year because of their prolonged stay over at Anne's for a while. After all, Anne wanted the see her daughter-in-law who was pregnant with her grandson or granddaughter -- and Y/n was starting to feel more and more deprived of a mother's love by each day, making Harry take her to Anne.

She had put Harry to work currently with fluffing up the Christmas tree's leaves, and to decorate it with the string lights they'd bought just the day before. He was crouching just about beside her, facing her with the tall tree standing between them.

"I swear, this tree has got me working the hardest I ever have," Harry joked, wiping the sheen layer of sweat on his face. He chuckled when Y/n shook her head, laughing at him and not at his joke -- but he didn't need to know that. "So dramatic," he heard her murmur under her breath, knowing that she meant for him to hear it.

"I'm the one who's dramatic?" He questioned her with a touch of accusation to it. "You're the one who's been up my arse this whole month with 'let's do this, let's do that'!" Mimicking her, Harry smacked his hand on the tree and hissed in pain when a thorn pricked his finger.

A smirk appeared on Y/n's face as she continued to mess with the order of stuff she'd stacked up on the mantel. Shrugging, she said, "that's what you get for teasing me."

Herry scoffed instead of saying anything and went back to fluffing up the tallest bit of the tree. His armpits were moist with his sweat but he wouldn't even dare to think about putting out the crackling-fire in the fireplace. He might be a naturally warm body, but Y/n definitely wasn't.

Whether it was summer, or winter -- her body was never found to be hot. Hell, even when she took off her fuzzy socks last night her feet were freezing cold. And, with the baby growing in her body, Harry wouldn't even let Y/n remove the thin blanket he had wrapped around her frame when he woke up at the first ray of sunshine and realized that it had started snowing.

"H? Will you please bring me those mini-Christmas trees?" Y/n asked him, turning to give him some puppy-eyes but caught him watching the snowflakes on the windowpane instead. Tilting her head and joining him in looking outside, her lips stretched in a smile.

The snow fell soundlessly, drifting down like white and fluffy cold crystals. It brought an essence of magic in the world, falling softly into blankets that cover the landscape.

"...'course," she heard him mumble, and turned just in time to catch the smile he passed her with a glint in his eyes that she'd come to recognize as admiration. Though she wasn't sure if what he was admiring then was the snow, her, or the 7-month baby bump.

In the time that Harry went to pick up the set of trees from the kitchen island, Y/n dropped the blanket from her shoulders, feeling too hot suddenly. The room had grown too warm for her current liking, and as she sat down cross-legged on the floor to give her knees some rest, she wished for Harry to be back by her side.

She slipped back on her bottom until her aching back hit the leg of the sofa and rested there. Patting the spot next to her, she invited Harry to sit beside her and whined internally when he passed her a knowing look and brought back the blanket with him. "Open the window if you're going to make me wear that blanket again," she told him pointedly, passing him a smile to tell him she didn't mean that behaviour seriously.

"But baby," Harry looked at her with a desperate look on his face. "It's cold outside!" he told her, wanting to open the window himself but he simply denied to because he couldn't have Y/n catch a cold. He sat down, spreading his legs and crossing them at the ankles.

He draped the blanket over both of their legs, making sure her bump is also covered. Leaning in, he pressed his lips on her pouted ones, smiling in the midst when she wouldn't back away.

Y/n reached for one of the kid's books that she'd been reading to learn some stories she could tell her little bundle of love when they were old enough to whine to her for just one more story. With some trouble, she caught the book on the sofa behind her and opened it, keeping it tilted just in case Harry wanted to join her.

But Harry was rather busy idly playing with her free hand, and as she continued to read, she felt him raise her hand up and press a kiss into her palm. Her cheeks, that were already rosy because of the cold, had now turned a shade of raging red and Harry couldn't help but cackle at that.

Y/n slapped his arm, an embarrassed smile dressed on her lips. "Stop it," she hissed, unable from removing the bashful smile on her mouth when Harry kisses the back of her hand the other time around. She turned her face away so that he couldn't see the cherry-red tint on her face, her mouth trembling because of the shy-giggle she was working hard to keep in.

Harry loved seeing the smallest gestures affect her in ways that she couldn't even control. Sputters of laughter kept falling from his mouth and when she didn't turn to face him after some while, he couldn't help but grab her chin and make her look at him.

Although she had shut her eyes tightly, the apple of her cheeks still suffused with a shade of pink that he decided was his favourite from now on. "C'mon!" He laughed when she wouldn't open her eyes.

He had only started getting such exquisite reactions out of her since he put a baby in her, and God, he would put another one in there if she would keep making him lose his mind like this.

Suddenly, a yelp flew out of his mouth, and he flinched away when she pressed her icy foot flat on his calf.

"Oh my god," he laughed with a surprised expression on his feet. "Baby, how the fuck are you so cold, still?" He shouted with laughter, his heart bursting with love when she started laughing profusely with her head thrown back. He, somewhere in the midst of it all, had stopped laughing, gazing at her instead.

But when Y/n didn't hear him laughing along with her, she opened her eyes only to find him looking at her as if she'd had hung stars in the room for him; and Harry swore her eyes were genuinely glittering and shimmering with something he was sure the poets would call love.

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agirlcandream84 · 2 months

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hi!! i literally can’t get your last frank hc post out of my head!! the one where he’s fussing over you having a little scrape or a scratch OMG

Because he so would! As far as murderers go, he's actually a nurturer! You have so much as a splinter as he's at you with a pair of tweezers, your hand cupped in his as he furrows his brows and works at the skin muttering, "Hold still for two damn seconds sweetheart. I know it doesn't feel good but it could get infected."

And you're not even the needy type about it. You've been independent since you've been a kid so you're used to a little struggle now and then so when you try to lug a chair you found at the thrift store up three flights of stairs, he's pissed as hell and stompin' down the steps towards you like "You're gonna break a fuckin' ankle. You call me when you need help, understand?" He easily grabs the chair with one hand and assesses you saying, "See, ya got a bruise on your arm where you were lifting it. Go sit on the couch sweetheart and I'll grab the ice pack."

And if you were actually injured?! Then he loses all the sass and is just concerned about you. Like when you were moving one of his enormously heavy kettlebells out of the way and dropped one on your foot. You let loose a scream and felt to the ground clutching your foot. Frank is there in 3 seconds flat, kneeling beside you with, "Shssh ssshhh honey. S'ok. Lemme take a look yeah?" before assessing your foot and then easily scooping you up and carrying you the whole damn way to the car where he promptly ignores all the laws of traffic to get you to an ER for an X-ray. For the next 6 weeks he's basically your nurse-- fluffing the pillows, refilling your water, having Curtis stop by when he's not around. You actually have to beg Frank just to let you go to the damn bathroom by yourself because otherwise he's your human crutch at all times. You make to stand up from the couch and he's all "hey hey hey, easy. Whadya need? I got it sweetheart"

🫠 🫠 🫠

#frank castle x reader #frank castle #frank castle fanfic #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff

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fayes-fics · 2 months

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When The World Is Free: Epilogue - Peace Ever After

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: None… the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed. Also, our pair have some news for the world.

Word Count: 0.7k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl . Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is the neat little bow I wanted to wrap this fic up with. I hope you have enjoyed this story; it's been a pleasure to write. Thank you for reading, and many thanks as always to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Wiltshire, UK, 8th May 1945

Benedict’s arm is curled securely around your back as you dance together, Vera Lynn warbling from the wireless in the corner of your living room.

There'll be bluebirds over, The white cliffs of Dover, Tomorrow, just you wait and see…

His breath is warm on your hairline as you sway gently. A spontaneous, uplifting and tender moment to celebrate the end of the war. A lightness in your heart that this dreadful era is finally over and the overwhelming gratitude that all your loved ones have survived. This dance is also a peaceful, romantic interlude from the whirlwind your lives have become in the last few weeks.

There'll be love and laughter, And peace ever after, Tomorrow…

The shrill ring of the telephone echoing from the hallway of your cottage interrupts your reverie.

“Ignore it,” Benedict whispers in your ear.

“But we just had it installed! It’s only our third call. How exciting!” You lean back and shoot him your best pleading face, and he sighs and, with an affectionate eye roll, gestures for you to go answer it.

You rush over and pick up the heavy bakelite receiver, a crackle on the line that is an operator.

“Overseas call for the Bridgertons from Madam DuLac,” the operator announces primly.

“Oh wonderful, yes, please put her through!” you enthuse.

“Salut y/n!” comes that familiar voice from the past after a short delay.

“Solene! It’s so wonderful to hear from you! How are you? How’s Paris?”

Benedict walks over at the mention of her name, hovering nearby to partially eavesdrop.

“I am wonderful. Paris is finally free and as beautiful as ever. On this monumental day, I wanted to check on the lovebirds who didn’t invite me to their wedding,” she jibes good-naturedly.

You can’t help but giggle. “We are very well, and yet again, sorry.”

“Tu connais, there is one way you can remedy this,” she singsongs.

“Name it.”

“Your daughter shall be Solene oui? At least a middle name.”

You laugh heartily, then shoot Benedict a sultry look that makes his brow crease, intrigued.

“Why don’t you nag my husband about that?” you challenge lightly as he draws nearer.

He crowds into your back and takes the receiver from your hand, tilting it between you so you can both hear.

“What is my darling wife roping me into now?” he inquires dryly.

“Giving her a daughter that must be named Solene…” your ex-landlady chimes cheekily.

“Is she now?” his voice drops to a throatier register that immediately has you flustered. “And what is wrong with the son I just gave her?” he queries casually as he raises a flirtatious eyebrow at you.

“Vous avez un bebe?!?” Solene gasps. “Felicitations!!”

“Oui!” You grin happily as Benedict's lips ghost over your temple lovingly. “We were about to send out telegrams with the news. Louis Jerome Bridgerton,” you pronounce proudly. “He is three weeks old, and he is our whole world…” your sigh so contented as you lean into your husband's attention.

“You named him after my brother-in-law?” Solene protests with mock indignance. “Then I definitely get the middle name for the girl!”

“It was after the man who married us,” Benedict points out laconically before conceding, “who, yes, coincidentally is also your brother in law…”

“And I shall expect a visit when petit Louis is a little older to see the wonders of Paris,” she hints unsubtly.

“Of course! His first trip will be to the Louvre,” your husband pronounces. “It was the very first place his parents went on a date, after all,” he adds, shooting you that trademark lopsided grin.

You elbow him mildly. “That was not a date!”

“It was for me, mon amour….” he side-eyes you heatedly. It makes you want to drag him upstairs and start on those daughter plans immediately.

“I should go and make my next call… to your sister and Phillip indeed; I just wanted to wish you a very happy Victory Day!” Solene interrupts your amorous moment.

“Et toi aussi,” you both answer in unison.

“Vive la France! Vive L’Angleterre! We won mes amis! Le monde est libre!”

You and Benedict’s eyes meet, a poignant moment, as the call disconnects.

“The world is free indeed,” he echoes softly, putting down the phone and sweeping you into his arms for a stirring kiss.

FIN

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#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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cheapshrimpysheep · 1 year

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First Date - Heartslabyul

SUMMARY: What would your first date with him be like? I know first dates might not go so well, but let's pretend these are different. ;)

CHARACTERS: Riddle Rosehearts; Ace Trappola; Deuce Spade; Cater Diamond & Trey Clover

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WARNING: Spoilers from Ace SSR Suitor Suit (Vignette); Book 5; end of book 4; Cater SSR Birthday Boy (Vignette)

WORD COUNT: An average of 570 words per character.

Heartslabyul / Savanaclaw / Octavinelle / Scarabia / Pomefiore / Ignihyde / Diasomnia

COMMENTS: Damn, making this for 5 characters is hard. And I still want to make it for all characters! What am I doing to myself? XD Tho, this is fun to write. I hope you have fun reading too. ;)

Riddle is an extremely Lawful person (Like in Lawful Neutral Character it's what I mean). And in this context, to be extremely lawful would mean to be extremely cliché. Then a Candlelit Dinner will be!

He asked Trey to cook. First: because Riddle knows he's not a good cook and your date had to be perfect, and for that the food should be too. Second: Trey's food and especially sweets are incredible! Perfect for a date! Riddle probably blushed asking Trey that favor, because Trey would tease him a bit too. But just a little bit.

He decided to use a smaller room for your date. Still, it had a large window overlooking the beautiful maze. If anyone even dared to think of interrupting your date it would immediately be OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!

Trey was the one who made the food, but who would serve you would be Riddle himself. He didn't want anyone else in that room with you. Mainly because he was still a little embarrassed and nervous.

He will enjoy talking to you. Know more about yourself and your world. Tell you more about the Queendom of Roses. The two of you praising Trey's cooking. And since you're being cliché, why not do the same with dessert?

Strawberry Tart was the dessert. You insist that you cut the tart yourself. You cut a slice, put it on the plate, take the fork and take a piece of the slice. And before Riddle can ask why you only took your slice, you hold your fork out to him. He is slightly confused.

You just say "Aaaah" and he finally realizes what you're doing. And blushes. He sighs, more to calm himself a bit. and opens his mouth without being able to look you in the eye. His cheeks were starting to match his hair.

“Next time, I'd like to be the one cooking you a strawberry tart.” you say, after seeing the delight in Riddle's smile after eating from your fork.

He blushes a little more, but answers in a soft and sweet voice: “That would be wonderful.” And he quickly pulled the rest of the tart close to him, to cut a slice and feed it to you as you did to him. Who was blushing now?

“Rule 53.” He says with his little smirk. “You must replace anything you steal. You made me steal a piece of your tart. In other circumstances, it would be off with your head for making me break a rule you know?” He was smiling nonetheless, so you smiled back and ate the tart he offered you.

Before leaving for Ramshackle Dorm, you remembered that rule. And you dared to be cheeky. Riddle was accompanying you out and you took advantage of his low guard to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He stopped, astonished.

“Oh no!” you say with fake concern “Did I just steal a kiss from you? And according to the rules I must replace anything I steal correct?”

He should be mad at you, but he couldn't. He was trying so hard not to smile, he just gave up. And that smirk of yours, took its place. “In fact. What you just did was a tremendous infraction.” He gets closer to you. “Because it wasn't just a kiss you stole from me. A long time ago, you stole my heart as well.”

Since his Personal Story from SSR Suitor Suit, I can only think of one thing: Amusement Park Date! Ace will not treat this like a date date. It's better for him if you just have fun together without worrying about being on a date.

You'll go with him on thrill rides. Mainly because you would challenge each other. And then you would try to convince each other that the other was the most scared.

When you're already tired of so much adrenaline, it will be time to eat something. You'd going to eat hot dogs and laugh at each other for dropping the straw potato through the other end of the hot dog. If you get sauce on the tip of your nose, he might kiss it to lick the sauce off. And he will be pleased to make you blush. If you guys eat dessert, like ice cream, be careful. Because he'll try to nibble on your dessert just to mess with you.

Even though you're having so much fun with Ace, you still wanted to do some date stuff. Like, for example... Oh! That baby flamingo plush is so cute! I remember you from the ones of Heartslabyul. And what a coincidence (or maybe not), it’s one of the prizes of a basketball game stall. But when you mention it to Ace...

“So why don't you try to win one? Your throws are pretty decent.” He smiles with fake innocence. You look at him sullenly. “Ha ha ha. I know, I know. I haven't completely forgotten that we're on a date. But if I get you the plush, what do I get from that?”

You give him two options: bragging about how good he was on the game and how cool he looked like when he got you that plush. Or a kiss.

“Are you telling me I can only choose one of those? Not fair! That game could be really hard, you know~” You laugh and end up saying that if he really got that plush for you, he could have both.

Are you surprised that he failed on the first tries? Probably from overconfidence? Being fair, the hoops are also different from real basketball hoops. Eventually hitting those hoops becomes a matter of pride. But before he keeps trying, he starts talking to the stall guy. It looks like a normal small talk, but Ace is actually trying to take the trick to win out of the guy. When he gets the information he wanted, he tries again. And wins!

The stall guy give him the baby flamingo. Ace extends his arm to give you the stuffed animal, but, oops, too high. He raised the plush high above his head. You’ll not jump, you’ll play dirty, like he would too. You start poking him around the belly making him tickle. And get your baby flamingo!

The day was already ending and it started to get dark. You heard that the view from the top of the Ferris wheel at night is very beautiful, and it seemed like a nice, and chill way to end an amusement park date. He agrees, he was tired too.

“I thought you were tired.” You comment as he starts trying to swing the Ferris wheel carriage. Then he stops, really tired, he can't even do that. But he’s smiling a lot. The Ferris wheel was very tall, and only one lap took some time. You already had your prize in your hands, but you still hadn't given Ace his.

I got this idea after book 5: a Magical Wheel ride somewhere. “It's a surprise” he tells you, when you ask where you two are going. One of his lines from his PE card is "Are you free? Then why don't we go for a ride on my blastcycle? No, wait, I almost forgot—we need permission to leave the school grounds."

Either he got that permission or just went YOLO like he did with Epel. And since this is you first date, he would be very capable to do that if he didn't get the permission.

He would already be extremely excited to drive a Magical Wheel freely. But with you behind him, that enthusiasm multiplies. If you like speed as much as he does, he'll be over the moon. So happy that he can make that for you. Feel the same excitement he feels.

If you don't like speed and maybe even fear him going so fast in such an unprotected vehicle, you'll probably hug him even tighter and maybe squeeze his coat. And he'll be able to take that as a sign to slow down. He won't be sad that you don't like speed as much as he does. He’ll be disappointed in himself for forgetting your limits and scaring you. He'll apologize to you for that later.

For this, let's assume he used the Dark Mirror to get you somewhere. Because I imagine him taking you on a ride through green plains or mountain range.

And using this last example, where does it take you anyway? How about a river beach, perhaps near a waterfall, to have a somewhat improvised picnic? This because he didn't have the picnic stuff like a picnic blanket or food, so you would need to buy it in the little nearby stores. He was more excited about riding a Magical Wheel with you, so he ended up forgetting about the rest. Sorry.

It was such a beautiful sight. And the sun began to set. “Deuce” you say “Do you remember when you got on a Magical Wheel and took Epel to Sage's Island beach?” he nods “I got a kind of jealous, you know.”

He spits out the soda he was drinking. “Of what? *cough* *cough*” you are both sitting by the water.

“I mean, you take a Magical Wheel that isn't even yours, break the rules about whether or not you can leave the school grounds, and still take someone to the beach at sunset? Epel rode with you on a Magical Wheel before me.” you take your drink to your mouth “And sunset on the beach?” you murmur “That's romantic stuff.”

“Whoa, what? Wait! First of all my intentions were never romantic! I have no interest in him, just to be clear! I just wanted to help him. I would have done exactly the same for you. Maybe even more.” and speaking of which, he remembers: “Hey, wait a second, I've already done even more for you! Do you remember when you got stuck in Scarabia on winter break? Ace and I made it all the way from the Queendom of Roses to Sage's Island without using the mirror. just because you sent that message and we couldn't talk to you afterwords. I'm pretty sure that’s more than taking someone to the beach.”

You smile. “You’re right. And I never thanked you enough for all that work. Or for everything you've done for me since I arrived in Twisted Wonderland.” You put down your drink and hug him. Will your first kiss be enough thanks for now?

Cute Cafe Date! Why? Cater SSR Birthday Boy - Vignette: “I love visiting cafes, but we all know the most photogenic thing on the menu is dessert. Well, I can't take a picture of something without ordering it, and how am I supposed to order something I can't eat? It's a real pickle! ...Wait, I've got it! (MC), what if YOU ordered something and I posted it to Magicam? That settles it. We GOTTA hit up a cafe sometime soon. I know all the hottest spots for 'cammable desserts! And don't worry--food's on me. Deal? Deal!”

He dressed for the occasion, just like you. Everyone could see that you were a couple. And you would be the cutest couple in that cafe. If you're already shy, you'll probably be even more shy. Because someone like you and the handsome young man with you will catch some eyes.

And to make it worse if you're already a little embarrassed by your shyness, Cater will find you so cute that he will put his arm around you and pull you closer. Maybe even give you a few kisses on the cheek.

He will take so many pictures that it will look more like a photo shoot. Photos of the food, of him, of you, of the two together, of the place, everything! You two will talk A LOT. About NRC, about your colleagues, about Magicam gossip, etc.

He already talks cute to most people. So with someone as special as you, not only does he talk in that cute and affectionate way, but also becomes very touchy with you. He'll want to hug you and kiss you on the cheek a lot. If you like PDA, that's perfect. If not, he'll respect that, but still try to at least hold your hand.

You will be there for so long that only when you start to see the space becoming empty, with fewer and fewer customers, will you realize that closing time is approaching. As he promised, he paid for everything.

When you left, the sun was already setting. “Hey, (Y/N)-chan.” He tells you, in a whisper “Before we go back, There's one last place that I would like to go with you~.” And his fingers touch yours, like an invitation you could refuse. But you accept and he intertwine your fingers.

You walk a little until you reach a park. You walk along the dirt path, through the trees and the lawn with flowers. its a pleasant walk. And as night came you could hear the crickets. He stops by the lake, the two of you sit on a bench and he takes another selfie with you. To next giving more attention to his Magicam than to you for a long moment.

You sulk a bit and you decide to go to your own Magicam to see what is taking his attention away from you. You see that he didn't tag you in the photos and that the comments on the photos with you were disabled. “I wanted to show you off but...” Cater says, looking at you with his phone's screen off. “I wanted to make sure no one spoiled this day. You... know...?” He tries to keep his smile.

You put your hands on his face “You don't need to show me off. The best things in life are offline, you know? I don't need to be part of your feed to be part of your life.”

He smiles at you, his most genuine smile, as if to say: this is why I love you. And he can't stand not having you in his arms and kissing your lips.

A Picnic with the best food: his. He’ll carry the basket and picnic blanket in one hand and your hand in the other. He’s the one who usually plans the Unbirthday Parties. Planning your picnic date is a nice change of pace. Plus, he loves seeing your delightful face when you try and like his food and pastries. He would take you to a quiet and peaceful place to enjoy yourselves and each other.

This is his opportunity to rest from his Vice-Houseworden duties. And you can take a rest from Ace, Deuce and especially from Grim's shenanigans.

He would definitely feed you his cooking, mainly to see your smile better after you taste it. He's more of a giver than a taker. So if you did something for him and you were able to sneak that in the basket until he takes it of the basket surprised and feed it to him, he will hesitate at first, flattered. But happily eat it.

He chose a place where hardly anyone would casually find you, so he’ll feel comfortable lying on the blanket and inviting you to lie down with him. You two will probably keep snacking while chatting. He’ll let you rest your head on his chest and play with your hair.

Deep down he can be cheeky. But he doesn't show that side to everyone. You are one of the lucky few.

Your picnic was being peaceful. Maybe so much that that's why he decided to play a little prank on you. You were feeding each other cherries. He puts one in your mouth, but when you bite into it and taste it, it tastes like banana. “TREY!” You complain with the cherry in your mouth without knowing whether to spit it out or not. You even raised to sit down.

He bursts out laughing. You were caught so off guard. “Hey, look on the bright side, I could have been a little meaner. I could have done it with a sour taste.” he smirks.

You couldn't use magic like him, but that didn't mean you couldn't get your revenge. You look into the basket and see the cake you ate a few slices earlier. Cake that was decorated with whipped cream on top. You get some whipped cream on your finger and attack Trey while he's still lying there laughing at you.

But he is faster and manages to grab your wrist and deflect his nose from your finger. You lose your balance and end up on top of him. And to make you blush even more, he licks the whipped cream off your finger. And instead of you getting your revenge, you gave him another reason to laugh: your pinkish face.

He wanted to be cheeky? Well, two can play that game. Why not give him a taste of his own prank? You were close enough and you kissed his lips. You feel his lips twitch into a smile.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

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Beyond - s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Five: Somewhere in the Crowd There’s You

a/n: here’s chapter five of my purely self-indulgent fun — a little later than i anticipated because i was sick and got a little derailed. we are half way now and things will be heating up in the next few chapters, haha. wanted to play around with one of my favorite tropes, so here we are with modern day!rich!fake husband!steve harrington x afab!reader.

warnings/tags: (10k words); mentions of alcohol; parent loss, both parties; r has a sister and father; smut in later chapters, so 18+, minors dni; additional tags to be added.

masterlist

“You sent too much money.”

It’s your father’s voice that spills down the other line. Gruff in a way that alerts you your fears aren’t for naught, as he’s likely had many sleepless nights since the last you spoke. You recall days as a child, when your mother had been sick, and your father would stay awake all hours of the night, if only to clean up the house so she didn’t have to. To make sure that her worries were only meant to be on getting better and resting.

“I…have a business and it’s going well,” you explain, chewing on your bottom lip.

Across the room, Steve’s fluffing pillows and putting a champagne bottle on ice. Your guests will be here soon, likely within the next few minutes, though when your father’s name flashed across your screen you knew you needed to answer.

“Only a few clients now, but I’m hopeful I’ll pick up more,” you continue, exhaling deeply. “I want you to have it. I know Caroline mentioned needing new shoes. Please let me do this.”

There’s a long pause. “Okay, okay. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Clinical year at school, newly married, and now a businesswoman. How is my son-in-law?”

“He’s…”

Steve rushes into the kitchen where you’re standing, hands curling around either of your hips to shift you away from the refrigerator so he can pull out the charcuterie board you had commissioned for the evening’s gathering.

“He’s really great. He’s been busy since we got back from our honeymoon, but he’s doing really well.”

Ever since your moment days ago in the kitchen, after Steve had pushed aside picking you up and opted to send Hopper in his stead, your relationship has taken new form. True to his word, Steve started a new habit of not answering his phone after you're done with your clinicals for the evening. Afternoons now had been spent watching your shows together on nights you didn’t have prior engagements with his coworkers, merely existing in the same room together, becoming…friends.

Literal friends, in the truest sense of the word. And it’s more than you can ask for, though you can’t lie that even the slightest touches leave you a little breathless. There’s also the kisses to the back of your hand at dinner, the way he curls his palm around the top of your thigh while his coworkers regale a particularly interesting story, the lingering press of his mouth against your forehead when he’s feeling especially doting in mixed company.

Progress.

You’re making progress.

“I actually should go and help him. We have company this afternoon. His cousin and wife are visiting us for the first time since the wedding. Still getting used to hosting gatherings as a couple, you know?” There’s a chuckle on the other end, and you know him well enough to imagine the slow shake of his head. “I love you so much and I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

The line clicks, leaving you to witness Steve elbow deep in the sink, washing your coffee mugs from earlier that morning. Your eyes slide to the perfectly operational dishwasher on his right side, though you can’t deny that the sight of your husband, bare arms shifting and moving as he works, is a lovely one. None the wiser of your ogling, you step forward to him, elbow leaning down against the counter.

“You know, the dishwasher is empty,” you point out.

“I am perfectly capable of cleaning a few dishes,” he grouses, rinsing a cup and settling it in the drying rack. “I also need to keep moving. Getting antsy now that they’re running late.”

“Hey, Steve?” You step closer, your front brushing his hip. He shakes his head as you do so, a laugh breaking free from his mouth as you grip his arms and still him in his frantic movements. “Put the sponge down. And the plate. The fork, too.”

The three items plunk down into the sink, a loud clatter in your otherwise silent home. Fingers curl around a hand towel and he reaches over to grasp his wedding ring, pushing it back into place against his knuckle. One thing you’ve found, and you particularly enjoy, is the fact Steve’s never taken off his ring. Not once. Even under the false pretenses of marriage, seeing him wearing a symbol of your union, of the vows you shared some time ago now, erupts dozens of bees into your bloodstream. Humming, buzzing, igniting your every nerve ending with electricity.

“Are you okay,” you ask, hand coming to rest against his back.

It’s the softest brush, and yet he turns his head all the same, hazel eyes meeting yours, and then trailing up the inside of your arm to where you’re touching.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says unconvincingly, shifting to face you now. That arm drops as he does so, but is replaced by his two large hands cupping your biceps. “Just want to get through this afternoon and then I’ll be much happier.”

Your mouth opens to speak, to ask him why the stress over this afternoon, when his phone rings and the doorman lets him know Theobald and Cami have finally arrived. It’s not the first time you’ve met them. The first had been at your wedding, where introductions to most of Steve’s friends and extended family were done so in a rapid fire manner. They’d been kind enough; as much as one can be in a two minute conversation wherein you welcomed them and thanked them for coming to celebrate your “special day” with the love of your life.

But now, seeing them there in the flesh, brought a new wave of nervousness into your belly. Theobald Cletus, with his dark hair that resembles Steve’s, with tan skin and the beginnings of wrinkles that crease his forehead and around the corners of his mouth. And beside him, his stunning wife with silky red curls that fell to her waist in ringlets, delicately freckled cheeks, and impossibly green eyes. Ethereal—she looked ethereal and, by your guessing, quite a bit younger than her husband standing with a hand against the smallest point of her back.

As your mouth opens to speak and welcome them into your home, Cami rushes forward, curling her arms around your shoulders in a frighteningly tight hug that has you wincing and peering over your shoulder to your husband. Steve only shrugs as he steps forward and cups his hand around his cousin’s, only to be tugged forward into a hug of his own.

“Theobald, you’ve met my wife,” Steve finally says once you’ve managed to extract yourself from Cami long enough to sidle back up to him, his arm settling around your waist, palm curling affectionately around your hip. One of the appropriate touches you’ve discussed, and yet it has your head spinning all the same.

Just as it does every time.

“Ah, yes.” His eyes flicker to yours. Darker than your husband’s, corners twitching as his lips curl into a smile. “The new Mrs. Harrington. How could I forget that whirlwind affair?”

Head dipping uncomfortably, you press your palm against Steve’s where it rests against your hip, sliding your fingers between his to lace them tight. “It was pretty crazy, wasn’t it?” Awkwardly laughing, you turn to look to Steve for support. “Should we take this into the living room?”

“Please!” Cami exclaims, flicking her hair over her shoulders. “I would love to hear all about the honeymoon. I want all the details. Should we be expecting any little Harringtons soon?”

Just as you say, “Absolutely not,” Theobald echoes, “My cousin loves kids. Always wanted a brood of them.”

It’s expected, you think. It’s a common question after marriage, no matter how inappropriate. Society says once you’re married you’re to obviously have children next. Frankly, it’s archaic and a ridiculous practice. And even so, Theobald’s words strike a sudden sadness into your chest. This thought that Steve so deeply wants children. A thought you could completely see come to fruition based on his interactions with El and Will alone. They’d been immediately endeared to him. All wide eyes and bright laughter, vibrant conversation, his endless bantering with them.

Steve Harrington would be a good father to his future children one day with his real wife. Not the woman you are to him for the next three years.

However, it’s at this moment you rationalize the error in your plans. A real couple would have had these conversations about future children already.

“Not now, at least,” you giggle airily, curling your arm around Steve’s and tugging him close. His brows furrow as you add, “Right now I’m just enjoying spending time with my husband. I want to be a little selfish for a while yet.”

“Understandable,” Cami agrees, settling down on your living room couch, crossing her legs and revealing a stunning pair of Gucci pumps that likely cost your half of the rent while still living with Robin. “I love our two little gremlins, but they take up all our free time. Constantly running them around to school events, dance classes, sporting events.”

“Sweetheart, the au pair does all of that,” Theobald chuckles, earning a whack in the arm from his wife. “Enough about that. Tell me…how did you two meet? It all happened so fast.”

“As you already pointed out,” Steve warns, hand around yours growing tighter.

Cami moves to open the champagne bottle, easing the tension in the room with the echoing pop. Glasses are poured and passed around the table, glasses coming together in a soft ‘cheers’ before you bring the champagne flute to your lips and take a large swallow. Bubbles burst against your tongue, eyes training on Theobald’s, just as he passes a look your way.

A battle of wills then, you think.

“We met at a party,” you begin, removing your hand from Steve's and gripping the bottom of his chin, shifting him enough that he’s looking at you. “We’d known each other for a bit through our mutual friend, and we’d always kind of danced around one another. In the same spaces always, yet too nervous to make the first move.”

Steve watches you carefully as you weave your tale that isn’t really a tale. It’s mostly the truth, with the romance added in. But it comes naturally. Pours out of you with an unexpected ease that has Cami leaning into her husband’s shoulder, green eyes twinkling as you speak.

“And then one afternoon, Stevie bought me a drink and walked it over to where I was standing by myself. My friend had just left to use the restroom, and here he stood…all tall, dark, and handsome. We started talking that night and just realized how easy it was to be around one another. I’d never talked so much on a first date, and yeah—I considered that our first date. After that we spent nearly every day together. It didn’t take long for us both to realize we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Some might think it was rushed, but there’s that saying, right? When you know, you know. And with my school starting up again, and us wanting so badly to get married, we thought no time like the present. Now here we are.”

For emphasis, you lean forward. Close enough that Steve’s eyes cross, his mouth dropping a hint at the corners, before twitching upward when your lips press against the corner of his mouth. A tentative press of your skin just barely against his. You linger with your forehead against his, trying not to focus on the temperature in the room, or how it feels it’s creeping higher and higher with every passing moment you remain connected to him.

“Here we are,” Steve echoes, breath fanning against your bottom lip.

Were you to even move an inch, your mouths would connect. A thought he must have as well, because he brings his thumb up and taps your bottom lip gently, nuzzling your nose until you hear the excitable clapping of Cami’s hands where she’s sitting on the living room touch. Pushing the hem of your summer dress down back around your knees, you shift and take in the older man sitting across from you. His eyes are narrowed on your face, a twitch not unnoticed in his cheek as he jolts to his feet and suggests Steve and him have a little bit of time as ‘cousins’ on the private patio. Noticing your hesitance at him leaving your side, Steve brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead, pours you another glass of champagne, and promises he’ll be right back.

With the door closed and the men left to their own devices, you look over to Cami. Cami, the picture of beauty. An image of a woman who walks in this world of the elites and has no qualms about it; steps into it and commands it, whereas you’re still walking around on wobbly legs like a baby deer. Even her clothes look like they were made for her. Luxurious fabrics that ebb and flow with her every movement, high neck of her summer dress leading to a gorgeous diamond necklace falling to the hollow of her throat.

Across from her, your dress suddenly feels too tight. Gifted by your mother-in-law who insisted she owned her own fashion line, and therefore absolutely must dress her only daughter. A quick phone call wherein you protested her suggestions ended with a ring from the doorman alerting you a delivery of multiple garments had arrived for you. Various dresses for each occasion, pants, shoes, blouses and anything you could imagine ever needing were added to your closet. All elaborate in design, and becoming for a new wife to the CEO of a major contracting company. The biggest the city touted, if you were completely honest with yourself.

Today you wore an off the shoulder floral patterned dress and the diamond earrings gifted by your mother-in-law as a bridal shower gift. You’d pushed aside the thought of heels for the afternoon; instead opted for a comfy pair of sandals that were maybe in their last season of use, but now they only looked garish in the light beside the Gucci pumps on Cami’s feet.

Comparison, this ugly weed of a thing, grew up within you against your better wishes. Robbed you of what little air fell in and out of your lungs as you sat there, sipping your champagne. You didn’t care for these preconceived ideas of what a Harrington wife should look like, right? You were your own person, had been long before him, and would continue to be so after him. Yet sitting there, watching her gracefully move about the room, and commenting on the pictures you’d added from the wedding, reminds you of how some people were meant for this life. Some people were raised for it.

You were not.

“He looks so in love with you,” Cami trills, fingers running along the silver edge of your photo frame, lifting it nearer to her face for inspection. You know exactly which one it is. Jonathan had told the two of you to look one another in the eyes and press your foreheads together. He’d draped your veil over the both of you, the setting sun basking you both in a golden hour halo. It’s dreamy. A shot so dreamy it’s easy to believe it is of a man deeply in love with his bride. “That new love look. Cherish it. You know how these Harrington men are.”

Actually…you don’t.

You’re not interested in even asking her what she intends by her words, but when she places the photo back down and turns your way, there’s a glimmer of something wet on her lower lashes. Awkwardly, you clear your throat, reaching over and offering to refill her glass. She heartily accepts, fingers combing through long amber locks as she settles back down on the couch across from you, crossing her legs once more. Again, she’s the statuesque image of perfection; cracks visible in her foundation, yet devastatingly beautiful all the same.

“You’ve got the best one,” she sniffles, grasping a piece of cheese and a cracker within her index and pointer. “Stevie is a sweetheart. Always has been. Theobald is hard on him, and I always try to tell him to ease up. The late Mr. Harrington was always so rough on his son as it is without Theo breathing down his neck.”

The late Mr. Harrington.

You knew very little of him. From what you’ve gathered—the very scraps of things here and there, as Steve never really mentioned him—their relationship, while his father had been alive, was a strained one. His parents had him later in life; a quick Google search would show as much. The heir to the company born with a silver platter before him, wanting for naught, pushed into the limelight.

Still, hearing Cami talk about Steve…with pity—grief tightens like a vice around your heart. Envisioning those hazel eyes of your husband, staring up expectantly at a man who never saw his son’s achievements for what they were. And now, at his young age, trying to make his late father proud at the expense of his own self.

Long hours, constant meetings, coaching calls. Pushing, striving, hustling.

With a long sigh, you glance toward the outside patio, where you can see your husband with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. His left hand curls around the stem of his glass, hand gesticulating wildly in the air as he talks with Theobald, hair in disarray. Like he’s been raking his fingers through it. Eyes trail his shoulders next, along the contours of sinewy muscle, then further up where you can visibly see the rigidity in his form.

“Steve is…”

Your voice breaks, eyes tipping downward to your bubbly drink in hand. Cami’s fingers curl around your wrist, a sympathetic frown lining her pristine features, and you know she’s thinking you’re caught up in your emotions. But in reality, it’s because there are so many things he is, all of which swirl like a muddied mess in your hazy mind.

“Steve is a good man. He’s the best man. I’m really lucky to have him.”

When you glance up, there he is, grin gracing his features. It’s plain as day he’s heard you; those stiff shoulders slacken. Tension eases from the curve of his mouth, as well as in the grip of his fingers around his glass. Instead his face morphs into elation, feet carrying him over to where you sit so he can once more slide an arm around your waist and tug you close.

Theobald regards you carefully in the distance, taking in the way you slide into the crook of your husband’s chest, seeking the warmth of him. The comfort of someone in your corner, seated in a room ripe with scrutiny.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers against your ear, just as Cami dives into conversation about her and Theo’s children, revealing photo after photo of their adorable faces on her iPhone screen.

“We’re the Harringtons, aren’t we?”

He chuckles brightly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

Day shifts into evening.

Conversations drift around lighter topics. Talks of your schooling, your plans for the future, the business you’ve started. A fact which, to your unamusement, Theobald finds more than mildly intriguing when he later corners you in the kitchen as Steve and Cami flip through the photos she had taken at the wedding on her phone (despite Steve’s pitying gazes for you to rescue him). Instead, you’d offered to start cleaning up, knowing your husband and you had dinner plans with another couple from the office.

“A dog walking business…” He mutters, elbow dropping down onto the counter. “How quaint.”

“It’s extra money,” you say simply, placing a watery glass into the drying rack. “You’re a businessman, aren’t you? Isn’t it better to make all my money now while I’m younger?”

“That I am. And I would agree,” he murmurs, eyes trailing your profile. “It’s just curious since you know how wealthy your husband is. He’s CEO of the company now, and that’s not even counting the hefty inheritance he got as the sole Harrington son. That kind of money is generational. He could never work another day in his life and be well off.”

“My husband is supportive of my endeavors,” you grumble out, training your eyes on the kitchen backsplash.

“Obviously,” he agrees goodnaturedly. “He loves you. Everyone can see it. All of a sudden our hard working golden child is leaving the office at normal times, running home to his lovely wife. I just hope he knows what he’s doing.”

Heat flashes like lava in your gut over the revelation that your ruse is working. It’s hindered by Theobald’s latter statement, mind stuttering over his blasé persona. The question as to whether or not Steve knows what he’s doing. Trying to hide your piqued interest, you harden your expression into one of neutrality.

As your mouth opens to speak, Cami cuts you off with a shrill, “Theobald, they have to get ready for their dinner. We’ve overstayed our welcome. But I would absolutely love for us to do this again!”

Uncertain if you’re happy or sad about this latest development because you still needed further clarity over Theo’s words, you place the remaining glasses into the drying rack and slide your rings back into place, pressing yourself into Steve’s side as he approaches. For a dramatic flair, you even press your left hand to his abdomen, rings glinting in the light, head leaning against his chest as you wish them a wonderful rest of their evening.

Theobald gives you one last fleeting look just when his wife nearly strangles you in another bear hug, and claps a hand against his younger cousin’s shoulder. “We will definitely have to do this again. It was nice officially meeting you, Mrs. Harrington.”

The doors slide closed and a sigh spills from your lips. Against you, Steve relaxes, hand rubbing up and down the length of your spine idly, eyes still fixed on the doors across from him. Slipping away from him, you quickly gather the rest of the snacks and glasses from the living room table and drop them down into the sink, pinching at the bridge of your nose.

“Is he always like that?” You wonder out loud, whirling around to face Steve.

His head jerks at your words, mouth pulling southward. The solidness of his right hip rests against the kitchen counter. You try to not dawdle on the way his bicep twitches as it rests on the surface beside him, nor as his fingers sprawl around the base of his jaw, keeping his head propped up.

“He’s usually worse,” he admits. “What did he say to you?”

“Just commented on my business,” you tell him, deciding to ease in with that before asking what his cousin had meant by ‘hoping Steve knows what he’s doing’, moving to place a plate in the drying rack. “He couldn’t seem to fathom how I would resort to the life of a peasant, when I should be rolling around in your endless buckets of money.”

Snorting, he teases, “Someone’s angry.”

“Yeah, and for once not at you, so I’d be thankful.” Your nose wrinkles as he barks out a laugh, head tipping back in his glee. Mirth bubbles up within your belly at the lyrical sound spilling from your husband, the way his cheeks stretch wide on his face, how the corners of his eyes crinkle in his happiness. “I told him I liked what I do. Is that so wrong? I like having my own thing. Just like you have your own thing.”

Without a warning, he turns the water off. Grips your shoulders lightly, turning you to him. “Theo is an entitled idiot, okay? He thinks he runs the company and the world, and anyone who doesn’t live like him is beneath him. Notice how he’s got this constant look on his face of disgust?”

At that, your lips twitch. Steve coaxes it further by shaking you slightly, earning a giggle. “He does kind of look like he hates everyone around him. It’s a wonder he married Cami. She seems sweet.”

“She is sweet. A saint for putting up with him for all these years, honestly,” Steve says, giving you one last shake until you’re wiping your hands off and slouching against his frame. “What?”

“I want a selfish hug,” you grumble against his shirt, face pressing into a sternum.

“A selfish hug?” You can hear the questioning lilt, the probing in his kind voice.

Nodding, you step closer. The tips of your sandals meet his leather shoes, hem of your dress spilling over the dark material. Your head shifts just the slightest, ear resting over the curve of his chest, relishing in the warmth of another body. This. Hugging? It’s not new. You’ve been practicing. As odd as that sounds, and though you don’t want to unpack it, since your argument with Steve he’s come home every day and greeted you with one. You’d say you’re pros at this point.

“And what might a selfish hug be?” He muses, hands coming up to rest against the center of your back.

“I just stand like this,” you begin, dropping your arms to your sides, letting them dangle at your hips. “And you hold me.”

You can feel the vibration of his laugh against your ear, but his arms tighten around you all the same, holding you in place. Melting into him, you rest in the comfort of his embrace. Merely focus on the sound of his breath pouring in and out of his lungs, the gentle beat of his heart beneath your ear, the brush of his thumb against your skin, soothing you.

“You’re too much,” he says, but there’s no weight behind the words. Can feel his mouth curling upward against your ear.

“Thanks, Steve.”

For the evening. For helping you in a time of need. For holding you now. For holding you tomorrow. You’re not really sure you know what you mean. But all you do know for certain is that, when his arms tug you closer, you loop yours around his waist, and your selfish hug becomes a real one.

Lightning streaks the sky. Bright white illuminates your bedroom, then settles into dark once more. A loud boom echoes, rattling the foundations of your home. Jolts your bed, and thus your body out of it. Grasping at your chest, you try to tamper the frantic rise and fall. The rush of breath forcing itself in and out of your screaming lungs, ejected from your dreams into waking so suddenly.

Another flash sparks your room in a moonlit glow. Falls dark a second later as you brace for the crack of sound that pierces your ears after. Groaning, you grasp the edge of a fluffy blanket on the foot of your bed and curl it around your shoulders, padding through your home in search of the living room, sights set on watching Netflix until you fall back asleep from reruns of your favorite shows.

Only upon entering, you find you’re not alone. Already doused in colorful light from the episode of New Girl playing on the screen is none other than your husband. Where you’re standing you can see the frames of the thin glasses he wears, the unkempt bed hair at the top of his head, the hoodie pulled over his body to block out the air conditioned chill in the living room.

“You’re awake…” It comes out hoarse, the rasp of your voice drawing your husband’s attention. “And you’re watching without me?”

The mock gasp has him moving over on the couch to make space for you, your rear dropping down into the couch cushion beside him. There’s another blanket across his lap, impossibly soft and a pretty navy color that pops against the pale fabric of your carpet. Getting comfortable, you unloop yours from around your shoulders and drape it across your bare thighs, sleep shorts doing very little to block out the chill in the air. Once satisfied, you lean back and watch the chaos between Jess and Nick unfolding on the television screen.

“What are you doing awake?” you ask after some time. Wince as another boom of thunder rattles the walls of your home.

“Couldn't sleep,” he says, breaking off into a yawn. “Had a lot on my mind.”

“From dinner or…?”

Dinner itself hadn’t been stressful—at least nothing that occurred would have alluded to as much. You’d met up at an Italian restaurant with a business partner of Steve’s and the business partner’s husband. Two older men in their fifties, with graying hair and a kindness that radiated from them. Most of the conversation had been of things outside of work, so you’re uncertain as to what might be bothering him.

“Not dinner,” he confirms, pausing the show on the TV screen. His head rolls back to rest against the plush cushion, hands coming up to press into his face. Slides his palm down the contours, exhaling deeply. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh,” you mutter softly, picking at a nonexistent thread on the edge of your blanket. “That’s fine. I just figured—”

“It’s nothing personal toward you. I just don’t want to bother you with it. Why are you up?” He queries, head turning to look in your direction.

“You never bother me.”

Steve levels you with a blank stare and you laugh. “I’m not afraid of thunder…but it definitely woke me,” you admit quietly, sounding more than a forlorn without meaning to. “My room gets really dark at night with the curtains, so when it lit up from the lightning I was a little spooked.”

“Understandably,” he says. “Want me to grab you coffee or tea or something?”

Head perking up, you ask, “Do we still have the camomile? If it’s no trouble, I mean…”

“I wouldn’t be asking you if it was,” he says, but there’s no hint of any condescension there, only his increasingly familiar thoughtfulness.

You lean your chin over the top of the couch to catch the retreating form of Steve’s back swathed in his dark hoodie. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, starting up your warm drink. “Want anything else? We still have those chocolate covered strawberries from dinner.”

“Do you want the chocolate strawberries from dinner?”

His grin turns wry. “Maybe.”

“Bring them over, you grown up baby,” you tease, extending a hand so he can place the covered plate in your awaiting palm.

Peeling back the tinfoil, you rest the tray on the coffee table, hiking your blanket higher around your thighs. Steve’s pouring hot water into a mug that says ‘Future Veterinarian,’ humming a familiar tune as he works.

“You usually do honey and…a bucket load of sugar, right?”

Eyes roll. “I like a spoonful of honey in my camomile and nothing else. The sugar is for my iced coffees, thank you very much. Also thank you for making sure Hopper always has it on standby lately.”

“What’s that thing you said to me when we first talked about us getting married?” He taps his chin mock thoughtfully, his other hand twirling a spoon around the inside of your cup. “Happy wife, happy life starts with always knowing her coffee order.”

It’s true, and you hide your lips behind your palm at the realization he’d been listening as he crosses the space between you and rests the steaming mug in your hand, muttering quickly, “Be careful, it’s really hot.”

“Thank you,” you say as he drops back down into the couch and plucks a chocolate covered strawberry off the tray. “I know you didn’t want to talk about what’s bothering you…but I figure…I don’t know. It’s storming out, we’re both not getting much sleep tonight, we could play a game or something.”

“A game?”

Nodding, you add, “An icebreaker. I know we talk more now, but we could try and get to know each other better. A little look into the person we married.”

Your husband shifts on the couch beside you. Presses his back into the arm rest and stretches out, arching a brow pointedly. Smirking, you do the same. Shift just enough so your back is up against the opposite end, your socked feet just barely brushing Steve’s.

“Okay. Night out or night in?” you ask.

“Before…night out.”

“Before?”

“Well, now you force me to watch Gilmore Girls.”

“I don’t force you! And it’s only been a few days. I’m sure it’s an absolute horror of spending time with the woman you fake married,” you gasp, feigning terror. “Just admit it. You like spending time at home.”

His eyes are set on yours as he says, “I like spending time at home.”

“I’d agree for myself as well. Life is so busy as it is lately, it’s nice having a space to come back to.”

One thing you’re very grateful for on a growing list is the space your new bedroom has given you. Sure, it can get lonely, but it’s an escape from the long days, a haven from stress, a bed to crawl back to when your eyes can hardly stay open any longer after a particularly hard day at clinicals.

“My turn,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his middle. And no, you don’t allow heat to crawl across your chest at the mere sight of his chest and arms flexing from the motion. “Would you rather go forward or backward in time?”

“And what would be my purpose of going forward or backward? Am I rectifying my mistakes? Seeing the future? Looking to see how my life pans out?”

“I…it’s whatever you want it to be.” He blanches.

“I don’t really have a lot of regrets in life. I make a choice and however the cookie crumbles is how it crumbles. Exhibit A,” you say, holding aloft your left hand, where two rings glint in the dim living room. “So I probably would want to go forward. But that’s dangerous, because if you go too far forward, you might see things you don’t like. I definitely wouldn’t want to know how I, uh, you know? Check out of here. What about you?”

Steve pauses for a moment, brows drawn in thought. “Honestly? There are things I’d want to change about the past, sure. But I think I’d want to see the future. See if all I’m doing is worth it, you know?”

“You don’t think what you’re doing right now is worth it?” You wonder if he’s talking about the business. Assume he must be, but don’t press any further.

“I wonder sometimes, yeah,” he admits.

“Well, what would you be doing if it weren’t what you’re doing right now? To see if something else would potentially be worth it.”

He rubs a hand along his neck, shrugging. “I thought about being a teacher once. My dad thought that was a silly idea. But I’ve always been good with children, and I think I could have been good at that.”

“You are good with children,” you tell him, thinking to Will and El. To the friends you’d met at dinner in the past weeks who brought their little ones. “I don’t think that’s a silly idea at all. Not in the slightest, and I’m sorry if anyone ever made you feel that way. Like your interests were inconsequential.”

“Thank you.” Clearing his throat, he asks, “Movie night or date night?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” His eyes grow wide at that. Cheeks darken visibly in the moonlit living room. “I’m teasing you, Harrington. I think there’s a case that those can be one in the same. I would say broader…I love the idea of going out for a date, but I love those inside sort of dates more. They’re more intimate, there’s the comfort of your shared spaces, the fact there aren’t any crowds around you. Only that important quality time with your partner.”

“I don’t have much to contribute there, seeing as I haven’t dated much in the past year. And now I won’t be for another three years.” He chuckles, combing fingers through his hair.

“Okay, this question is super serious.” You fold your hands across your midsection, inhaling deeply, eyes shut. “Would you rather have a third nipple or an extra toe?”

“Seriously!”

“I’m very serious, Steve.”

“Extra toe.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck again, wincing slightly as he presses into a spot between his shoulder blades.

Your lips tug southward. “Are you hurting?”

“Just my office chair, I’m sure,” he grumbles, nonchalant.

“Get on the floor.”

His brows arch. “Huh?”

“On the floor,” you repeat, tapping the space in front of you on the carpet below. “In front of me.”

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, long limbs slip off the edge of the couch and settle down where you’ve asked. You move to tuck his hoodie in as best as you can, fingers moving to spread across the slope of his shoulders. He exhales deeply at the first press of your hands in the muscle wrought with tension. A low sigh spills free, head tipping back to rest on the cushion nearest to your knee. Fingers crave to brush the hair along his scalp, to see if he’ll make that same, soft sigh once more. But instead you continue, pressing slowly into his flesh, listening to his cues, figuring out what works and doesn’t.

“Would you rather have a big family or a small one?” You ask after Steve has gone quiet, thinking back briefly to the moment earlier with Theobald and Cami.

Steve, with his wishes to be a father. Steve, who wants a huge brood of Harrington babies. Steve, who wants a family.

And yet it’s not even that. Not the questions as to what he sees for his future. It’s the tangible worry of slipping up in your facade. Of revealing too many cracks in the foundations of your dynamics. That had been the first, and you know if this relationship is going to hold up for three years, communication is a must. Absolute transparency at all times, so as to not muck it all up and land yourselves both in some hot water.

“Growing up, it was just me. My parents had me a little older in their life. They were already further into their careers by the time I was born. So…it was often just the au pair and myself,” he explains, letting go of another deep breath.

His body slackens against your knee caps. Warm flesh of your husband pliant beneath your fingertips.

“I always had this dream of giving my kids the opposite of what I had. Always knowing love, family outings, doing everything with them. Dance class, football, acting—whatever they wanted. And I’d wanted as many as possible. A silly dream of six of them, running all over the world together as a family.”

“It’s not a silly dream. None of your dreams are ever silly, Steve.”

Warmth pools as Steve slides his hand up and covers yours where it rests against his shoulder. Heart stuttering, you continue, “Your family will be lucky to have you some day. I, for one, haven’t given much thought to that aspect of life. I hope Theo and Cami didn’t find that suspect. I just…”

“Have been busy with school. You’re becoming a doctor, that’s time and hard work. No one can fault you for that.”

“Right. Yeah.”

You resume your kneading, fingers stroking at shoulders, down the sides of his neck, attentive to all the tension. He grows softer beneath your fingertips, head against your knee, his eyes closed. Where you’re sitting you can see the moles on his face, the length of his lashes, the lines of his nose. Pretty. He’s pretty, and it’s always something you’ve known, but being so close—

“Sunrise or sunset,” Steve asks.

“Hmm, sunrise.” You poke at the middle of his forehead, and hazel eyes meet yours. “That one was simple.”

“I could tell you were overthinking,” he says simply. “We’re not going to be perfect at this marriage thing. But no one expects us to be.”

“I still think we need to get our stories straight at the very least. And I sorta messed that one up with the honeymoon baby thing.” You shrug, palms sliding down a bit onto his upper chest. He’s still sitting there, taking you in with his stare, hand around yours. “Kind of why I suggested this game.”

He offers you a gentle smile, saying, “Then let’s keep going.”

The conversation continues until the sun begins to change colors. Until the rain has since stopped, voices carrying above the television playing low in the background. You learn Steve’s a romantic; loves movies like the Titanic and The Notebook. And will also admit to enjoying some of the same romantic comedies you do.

He prefers rainy days, because he enjoys the respite they give from a constantly busy city just outside the walls of your home. He’d rather have happiness than wealth; enjoys chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven for dessert (and you make a note to pick up some stuff to make them on your next planned night together); he’d never had any pets growing up, but he’d love a dog.

And you tell him about yourself. How you love cozy socks and would prefer scrubs over real clothes; how you also never had pets growing up and would love to adopt and foster as many as possible one day; how you enjoyed fantasy over romantic movies; how you’d watched Titanic about a hundred times in your life and you still cried.

How you wanted to watch it with him next, and he agreed, stating it would be the next thing you do when you cook together.

Before long he’s yawning and your eyes are closing. His fingers remain around yours as you knead his muscles, prattling on about your plans for the week, school, your friends. And he talks about his own schedule, his meetings, proposes dinner for the both of you that upcoming Saturday. A cooked meal in, with a movie and some wine. Maybe you tease him a little, because he makes it easy when he blushes that pretty pink, and maybe he grins up at you fondly, eyes hooded in his sleepy daze.

Eventually, you lay on your side and he remains in front of you on the floor. You’re hardly awake as he drapes a blanket over your form and tucks a pillow under your head, whispering to one another as the sun starts to come up over the city.

Eventually, both of you fall silent at last, comforting sleep there to find you.

“I want to make it very clear before we go in there that we are not getting a dog. We are donating all the things we bought earlier, and then we are going home and having dinner together,” Steve reiterates for the umpteenth time that day.

“We are not getting a dog,” you repeat, mock stonily, looking your husband dead in the eyes.

Clearly unamused, he shoves at the arm you have jokingly curled around his forearm, but there’s no malice there. Only a gentle huff of laughter as he opens his car door and rushes around the other side to help you out. You never need him to, but he insists every time. Even offers an arm for you to grab as you hop onto the sidewalk. Once back on solid land, summer dress dancing around your kneecaps, Steve walks around to the back of the car and lifts the box of pet food, blankets and toys you’d picked up while at the pet store. Today, you decided, you wanted to give back to the local shelter in your new town.

And maybe you had an ulterior motive of trying to realize a dream of your husband’s by making him fall in love with a shelter dog in a way where his only option is to bring them home to live with you forever. But he’s been adamant all morning—so certain today’s events will not lead to four legs becoming part of your odd little family.

Inside, you’re greeted by one of the workers. A woman named Chelsea rushes around the counter to collect your donations and asks if you’d like to walk around a bit. Steve’s reluctant at your side, sunglasses peeled off and tucked into the neck of his shirt, but he comes along all the same as you grip his palm within your own and drag him along behind you.

You pass dozens of kittens and cats. Young and old all alike as you go. Some who meow as you pass, and others who linger in dark corners of their confines. It breaks your heart seeing so many, wanting to adopt them all, knowing you’re unable to. Sensing your unease, Steve squeezes your hand tighter and listens for the both of you while Chelsea speaks and your mind wanders.

“Down here are all our adoptable dogs.”

It’s a sight you never get used to. Dogs barking as you pass, bodies brushing against their cages, yearning for attention. You linger by Chelsea as you walk, rubbing noses and ears and backs. Tongues glide over your palm, wet noses brush your skin, dark eyes hold yours through metal bars. Somewhere in the midst of introducing yourself to all your newest furry friends, you find Steve’s hand is no longer in yours. Turning on the heel, you find him crouched low to the ground, fingers curled inside metal bars, softly speaking to the animal hidden within.

“Oh,” Chelsea mutters, shock evident in her tone. Steve looks up to her imploringly, then glances back at the dog inside. “That’s a new arrival. A ten month old male Bernedoodle. He’s a black tricolor puppy. His previous owners got him as a gift, and turned him over when he started getting bigger. They’re a smaller breed, but have a lot of energy and unfortunately you see a lot of this happening. People buy luxury pets and drop them off when they become too much. He’s been very timid since he arrived.”

“He just lost his family,” Steve says to no one, swallowing thickly. The woman at your side doesn’t speak, only watches as your husband continues to gently coax the puppy forward. “Hey buddy. I’m Steve. Wanna come over here? No?”

“Should we…” the woman beside you begins.

“Yeah, let’s give them a moment,” you mutter, a little breathless as you turn around and face the other direction, quiet footsteps carrying you further away.

But you still hear it.

Still hear Steve’s voice in your ears. A sad, “I know what it’s like. Feeling left behind, left alone. Especially from the people you want to love you most. But you don’t need to be afraid of me. I get it.”

There’s an echo of soft paws padding against a tiled floor. And the soft exhale from Steve. “There you go. See, I’m your friend. I’m here. You don’t have to be afraid.”

And when you and the shelter worker turn around, you find Steve with his fingers in the puppy’s fur, that pink tongue of his brushing over the inside of your husband’s wrist. That resolve in Steve’s eyes crumbles, your heart shattering along with it as you press the heel of your palm to your sternum.

He turns to Chelsea and asks, “Can we take him out? Just for a minute?”

Chelsea passes you a knowing look and that minute Steve requests turns into an hour in the yard outside of the shelter. The puppy seems hesitant at first, lingering near Steve’s thighs as you stand nearby. But once Chelsea hands Steve a frisbee and ball, it’s as though the puppy is sparked to life once more. Soon enough he’s frolicking around the field, playful yips streaking the summer silence as he retrieves his toys and rushes back over to Steve, paws pouncing playfully against your husband’s designer jeans.

But he doesn’t care.

No—you haven’t seen him light up like this in the nearly three months you’ve been married. The joy illuminated his features. The crinkle of his eyes at the corners. The belly laughs as the puppy eventually knocks him to the ground and demands belly rubs on the grassy floor below. He falls in love before your eyes. With no warning, impossibly fast, and so suddenly it comes as no shock to either you nor Chelsea when he asks about adoption.

As you sit in the lobby with the puppy on a leash on the floor, you turn to Steve, grinning widely. “You said we weren’t getting a dog.”

Steve pats his new fur son’s head and grins as the dog tips his head back to look longingly into his new father’s eyes. It’s sickeningly sweet, and does things to your insides that makes you feel hot all over. You chalk it up to the shoddy air conditioner system, tugging at the neckline of your dress to let the air chill your slick skin.

“I couldn’t leave him,” he says, brushing fingers along a furry ear.

“He picked you.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Fond. Smitten. He’s so in love it’s ridiculous, and all you feel is affection.

Affection.

Towards your husband.

New. But maybe not so scary.

You lean down to pet the puppy’s neck. He jumps up and scrambles up with his front paws against your lap, licking a broad stripe along your chin. “Steve, we have a puppy.”

Your first pet.

His, too.

“Yeah,” he says, but he’s only staring at you. You swallow. “I guess we do.”

A few questions and references and a small adoption fee later, and you’re both the newest proud parents of your still presently unnamed new puppy who pokes his head in the front seat as you drive to the nearest pet store in search of all the things you’ll need to make his transition as simple as possible.

Steve, ever doting as he is, grabs the leash as soon as he helps the little guy out and greets you as usual on your side of the vehicle. You spend the better half of the afternoon purchasing things for him. A dog bed, food, toys, a new collar with his name and address engraved into it.

Charlie Harrington, you both eventually decide, when the cashier asks how you’d like it engraved.

Charlie Harrington, who the doormen at your apartment building immediately fall in love with as you later walk in, you holding the puppy’s leash this time, and Steve trying his hardest to carry all the things you bought.

Charlie Harrington who bounds happily into your home and immediately starts sniffing around in his new space, excited to simply be around people who love him in such a short span of time and want to play with him like he deserves.

“I’ll get started on dinner, if you want to show your fur child around the house,” you tease, laying out Charlie’s shiny new bowls on the floor, and the basket of toys and bones you got for him in the living room, right by his bed beside it.

“You are a sneaky woman,” he jokes, coming up behind you in the kitchen.

Heat blooms where he rests his hand on your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek like it’s something he’s done before in the confines of your home, with no one looking. So casually, and yet stark in contrast to the riot of butterflies that stir to life in your stomach.

“And why might that be?”

“Played that ice breaker game with me, found out I never had a pet, and then brought me to a shelter…where I then got a pet.”

You shrug, turning on the stovetop to let the water boil. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But you’re welcome. Now go—play with him. I know you’re itching to. You’re like a little kid on Christmas right now. It’s kind of cute, Harrington.”

“Thank you.”

He smacks another kiss to your cheek, his face pink from your compliment, before rushing into the living room where you hear Charlie barking as he’s once again joined by his new best friend. You reach over to tap Steve’s phone, where Spotify is already open from the car ride, and hit ‘play,’ Leon Bridges the background music to your cooking in the kitchen and Steve’s laughter as he crawls on his hands and knees to rub Charlie’s stomach on the floor.

Perfect.

It’s about as perfect as a day could be.

And later, as you sit together in the dining room, with Charlie sitting patiently in the corner, and talk about the evening, you start to think maybe being married to Steve Harrington for three years will be a little more difficult than you imagined it would be.

Because the feelings stirring in your chest are beyond that of friendship.

No—there’s a suddenness to the clarity of your realization that you like your husband. And the sinking reality that this is merely transactional.

In three years you’ll go your separate ways. Just as you both intended months ago at that coffee shop table.

“You’re overthinking again,” Steve points out, reaching over to center your engagement ring on your left hand. His thumb lingers over the diamonds. “I was telling you about the benefit gala in a few weeks.”

“Oh,” you mutter tiredly. “Sorry. Yeah, uhm, I’ll go. Obviously. It’s part of our arrangement.”

“If you don’t want to go with me…”

“No, I’ll go,” you say, taking a sip of your wine glass. “Black tie dinner event, I’m assuming?”

“Buy yourself a new dress kind of event, yeah.”

“Okay, yeah.”

You nod.

It’ll be October.

Approaching four months into your agreement. Time is already flying.

“Our first big event as a couple outside of our wedding,” you state plainly, gathering your things and Steve’s as you rise to your feet. He grabs the wine glasses and follows you down the hall to your kitchen, dumping all your dirty pasta plates inside. “Anyone I should know or be aware of when we’re there?”

“It’s a lot of partners in the company. Some celebrities, actors, musicians, models. Eddie will be there—he’s been invited. It’s a little bit of everyone. This time they’ve organized donations for a shelter for homeless youth in the city.” He hands you your wine glass, peering into your eyes. Noting your lingering hesitance from your overthinking once more, he continues, “I can cancel you as my plus one. Say you’re not feeling well—”

“No,” you place a hand on his sternum. Pause when you realize what you’ve done. He trails his eyes south where you touch. You don’t move away. “I love the purpose of the benefit. I want to be there. I-I want to go with you.”

“Good,” he says, stepping closer. You could reach out and touch the outline of his jaw like this. The lines of his perfect nose. “Because I want you there with me.”

You don’t miss the way his stare lingers on your face, or the timber of his voice. The darkness in the depths of his eyes. How the weight of his chest against your palm as he pushes forward has it stuck as a barrier between the two of you. Mere inches of separation.

It’s confusing, maddening, and terrifying all the same.

Two years and nine months.

You’ve got this.

#lunalovessteve #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington x reader #fake husband!steve harrington #steve harrington modern au #modern!steve harrington #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

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heavyhitterheaux · 6 months

Note

“jackman i will beat your ass if you dont quit playing with me.”

🌸

It was around 11 in the morning as you were sitting in front of your vanity applying your make-up and about to get started on your hair since you were going out with Maggie later in order to start shopping for Christmas gifts for everyone when you briefly heard Jack say something about going live on instagram.

You said a quick “Mm hmm.” in response to him as you were finishing applying your lashes and you assumed that he went to sit on the couch in your bedroom to finish the live.

Your hair was just about done as you were fluffing out the curls when you heard Jack’s voice behind you.

“Are we going to have another baby? I mean to be honest, we’re trying to go for ten. We have six now so four more to go.” Jack replied while shrugging and your eyes went wide.

Your head whipped around so fast to turn towards him and you looked at him in disbelief.

“What, baby girl? Why are you looking at me like that? Are you okay?” Jack asked while smirking at you and doing his best not to laugh.

“Jackman, I will beat your ass if you don’t quit playing with me.”

“What did I do?! The people want to know, so I answered the question!” Jack said as he now had the camera on both of you as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“And don’t let the answers to some of these questions get your ass kicked out of our bedroom tonight. MY VAGINA IS CLOSED FOR BUSINESS.”

“Correction, your vagina might be closed for babies, but definitely not closed for business.”

“It’ll be closed for business too if your ass doesn’t start acting accordingly.”

“Now why you on live lying? We know that’s never going to happen. I’ll get you to fold one way or another.”

“I’m returning you to Maggie with the receipt.”

Just then your phone went off indicating that you had a text and it was none other than Maggie herself.

Momma-In-Law- No. Finders keepers. Your warranty expired more than ten years ago.

“Look at what your mom sent me!” You exclaimed while laughing and showing Jack your phone.

“I… well damn mom. Tell me how you really feel.”

“Not her saying my warranty expired.”

“So since you can’t give me back, how about we make that baby?” Jack asked while wiggling his eyebrows.

All you did was stare at him before turning around back towards your vanity and starting to put your make-up away.

“Baby, is that a yes?”

“It’s a ‘Jackman better get out of my sight before his wife makes him sleep in the crate with the dogs’.”

“I see you’re in a mood, so I’ll just ask you later after I feed you.” He replied before leaning down to kiss you.

“You get on my damn nerves. I have to ask Maggie if there are any loopholes in the warranty.”

“BABY!”

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concepts #first lady of pg concepts

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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 1 month

Text

Torn Apart- Final Chapter

So this is the final chapter of my little series. It's a little ambiguous, but focuses on the reader's freedom to do as they like, which is pretty much the main thing Luffy cares about. Remember, you can commission alternative endings.

Warnings: Conflicted emotions, talk of leaving family, lots of crying, missing people, conflict with Zoro.

WC: 9.6k

The next morning you woke to a gentle knock on your door. It was Sanji bringing you breakfast, as he’s done every day for the last week.

“Mon Ange, I’m here with your breakfast!”

You sat up with a yawn, blearily opening your eyes. You blinked at him as he set up your breakfast at the small table.

“Mornin, Sanji” you murmured. Law’s proposition swirled back into your half-asleep thoughts and you sighed deeply. You could tell Sanji was looking at you curiously but with also a little bit of worry.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, pouring some coffee and juice. Law finally allowed you to have your caffeine fix when he was certain it wouldn’t cause harm to you, which was 4 days after the surgery. You shook your head honestly.

“No, not really.”

Sanji’s curled eyebrows drew together slightly, creasing the smooth skin.

“Bad dreams?”

“No, just restless” you said. It was a half-truth. You were actually restless and part of the issue was that you just felt like you’ve rested too long, but the other part was because of Law’s proposition. He brought you the steaming cup of coffee and helped you sit up with a hand between your shoulder blades. You couldn’t help but notice how warm he was, and how you didn’t feel any callouses scraping over your shirt. He was so different compared to Law and Zoro. You knew you shouldn’t compare people, but you just couldn’t help it.

“Thanks” you murmured as you settled upright.

“It’s only natural,” he said with a smile. He handed you the coffee and fluffed the pillows supporting your back. He seemed to notice that you were distracted, but didn’t push the topic so soon after you waking up. You leaned back into the cushions and took a deep breath, smelling the rich scent of coffee, prepared just the way you liked. You stared into space as you took a few sips, letting your body wake up. Your attachment sites were stinging, but less than before when you were learning to eat. You had enough control now to use both hands to tip the large, half-filled mug to your lips. You still occasionally clacked it harshly against your lips and teeth, but it was better than not having arms.

“Law says that I can have Chopper help give me a bath today” you said quietly. Sanji looked at you from fussing over the place setting with an inquisitive look.

“Yeah? You must feel relieved. I still think you are just as lovely as any other day,” he said flirtatiously. You smiled a little at him.

“Always the flirt” you teased. He smiled back, hands clasped in front of his chest.

“Especially for you, mon Ange,” he said with a dramatic bow. You giggled, and he looked up at you with awe. You stood, and he held a hand out to help you up. You placed your cold, metal one in his, and he kissed it lightly before taking his other arm and placing it in the middle of your back. He didn’t really need to help you up, but you savored how warm his hand was in yours. You could also feel how hot the coffee mug was, clasped in your free hand. You were starting to feel more heat-like sensations, but you knew you couldn’t get burned. It was really rather strange.

Once you were standing, he pulled out your chair like a gentleman and then sat across from you. He kept you company while you ate, eating his own breakfast with you. It almost felt… domestic. You loved it. He began chatting about various topics, but he slowly brought up the idea of you coming back to the ship. You swallowed hard.

“Sanji… I want to ask you something,” your tone was serious and he looked at you with surprise before becoming serious as well.

“Anything, my dear.”

You took a deep breath and let it out, looking down at your half-finished plate.

“What if I were to live somewhere else for a while, just while I was healing? Do you think that Luffy would allow that? Do you think I’d have to learn how to live with Zoro again? I haven’t seen him at all… and I don’t know how to go back to the crew with him there,” you said in a hushed voice. Sanji froze after your first question. You kept your eyes on his hands, resting on the table. He finally raised them and folded them under his chin.

“Would you want to live somewhere else while you were healing?” he asked. You shrugged, and winced at the action that pulled at your surgery scars.

“Maybe. I love you guys and I’ll miss you so much if I do, but Luffy can be chaotic. I’m scared about getting into a situation that I can’t handle because I’m not healed enough yet. I’m not strong like you, Luffy, and Zoro. I don’t heal as fast as you guys,” you answered honestly. After you finished speaking, you finally looked into Saji’s visible eye. He had a soft expression on his face, but it was unreadable. He sighed and sat back in his chair.

“Luffy will tell you to do what you need to do. He’ll tell you to do what you want, because you’re free. If you want to live somewhere else, then do it. I’m assuming this is about Law?” he asked. You flinched at how accurate he was.

“He invited me to stay here while I heal, but also said I could join the crew,” you said quietly. Sanji only nodded.

“You should do what you feel is right. You’re not tied down to any of us. We love you and will miss you should you choose to stay here. I think you should talk to the crew about it. If you’re ready, talk to Zoro, and see what’s going on. He’s an idiot marimo, but he’s still a crewmember. Take your bath on the Sunny, and spend some time there. That might make your decision easier.”

You nodded at his advice. He smiled at you.

“But in the meantime, get your energy up by eating the rest of your breakfast” he said kindly. You smiled at him as well.

“Thank you, Sanji” you said. He smiled at you happily.

“I’ll do anything to see you smile like that at me,” he said softly. It was different from his usual over-the-top flirting, and was sincere. Your breath hitched and you felt your face warm as you met his gaze shyly. You didn’t answer, feeling too flustered. You ate the rest of your breakfast, much more at ease now that you had a plan for your day.

Law came to your room soon after you finished eating. Sanji was stacking plates and was back to his old self, pining after you the same as he does Robin and Nami. Law didn’t even react to the cook, simply choosing to interrupt the blond.

“Do you want to try walking there or do you want me to teleport us to the Sunny's deck from here? I’ll have to teleport us from our deck since I don’t want you climbing anything yet” Law asked. You thought briefly.

“I haven’t really had a chance to see your ship. I want to walk and see it!,” you say excitedly. Law only replies with a grunt, ignoring Sanji’s immediate lecture on how that was no way to treat someone of your beauty. The door opens and he walks out, looking at you expectantly. You take a few steps, excited to finally get out of your room. The hallway is mainly plated with silvery metal, and bright lights shine down. Being a submarine, you expected it to be somewhat dark and wet, but this was a pleasant surprise.

“It’s brighter than I thought” you noticed. Law side-eyed you. He acted completely different when he was in front of Sanji.

“The lights are ones often used in winter islands, and they provide artificial sunlight basically. It provides vitamin D and it also simulates the time if it were to be a bright, spring day. No short days and long nights” he said with a tinge of pride. You blinked up at the lights, before looking immediately away, their shape singed into your retinas for a brief second. He lead you through the bright halls, and you greeted the crew you ran into with a smile and a wave. The hallways were narrow, but not horribly so. You went up some stairs, and the exertion was catching up with you. Sanji was behind you, and you knew he was staring at your ass but you also knew he had his hands hovering behind you to catch you in case you stumbled. At the top of the stairs, you paused, breathing heavily. Law’s clinical gaze swept over your body, and placed two fingers on your neck to feel your pulse. Your stomach swooped. His brows furrowed.

“Take a little break and get your heartrate down. Are you hurting?” he asked as he pushed up the sleeves of your short-sleeve shirt to look at your surgery sites. They were stinging in time with your heart rate, and you nodded slightly.

“Just a little. It throbs with a sting in time with my heart rate” you answer honestly. Law checked your other surgery site, and ended up brushing Sanji out of the way. He side-stepped with an indignant huff that brought an amused smile to your lips.

“They’re fine, but rest them once you get to the Sunny, okay? Let Chopper-ya do most, if not all, the work.”

You nodded, breathing easier now. It was another minute before Law allowed you to walk again, and you spent it wavering between frustration at your weakened body and daydreaming about the bath on the Sunny. You heard the two men speak a little, but tuned them out. Law finally started walking again, and Sanji brought you back to reality with a hand on your arm. You smiled a little to yourself at the realization you could feel his touch. You followed after Law, and it was a short walk to the deck of the submarine. You squinted a little against the sunlight, but it wasn’t much of a difference between the light in the halls and outdoors.

“Ready?” Law asked. You nodded, nervous and excited to be back on your ship.

“Find your own way up, Black Leg-ya” Law said quickly. Sanji rolled his eyes, but leapt onto the ship easily. Law took the opportunity to pull you closer to him by the waist, and held out his hand, summoning his power. Butterflies erupted in your stomach and your face felt a little hot.

“Room. Shambles.”

You had closed your eyes, figuring that it would be less vertigo-inducing to not see the transportation. Your eyes opened as soon as you felt grass beneath your feet, and you looked up excitedly. Law let you go, and you ran up to your crew as they yelled your name. You hugged everyone, even if your attachment sites ached. Some tears were shed by Frankie, Usopp and Brook when you showed them how much you’ve improved. You didn’t know exactly how Brook could shed a tear, but you didn’t think too much about it. As the crew settled down, you finally could see that the entire crew was there. Zoro was sitting quietly to the side, looking at the waves. Your heart dropped, and your adrenaline spiked. The apple you had grabbed to hand to Luffy erupted in your strong fist, and he laughed in surprise at the trick before seeing your expression. Everyone soon grew quiet, unsure whether to intervene. You began to panic at the anxious attention, and Zoro looked up with the lack of chatter, but met your gaze instead. He froze at whatever expression you had. Your breathing came faster and faster, your heart pounding. Voices were muffled and you thought you saw a blue dome expanding over your vision before your vision blurred. You thought you were fainting, but your surroundings changed and snapped back into focus. You were in the changing area outside the Sunny’s bath area. You were sitting on a bench, and Law was crouched in front of you.

“Hey… listen to my voice. Can you hear me?” his deep voice washed over you, and your gaze snapped to him. You were still tense, and you swore you could smell blood and smoke. Law continued to speak.

“Good. Listen. I’m going to walk you through a breathing exercise. We need to get your heart rate and blood pressure down.”

Sudden searing, white hot pain made you jolt with a scream, and your arms felt useless. You didn’t have arms. Cold hands grabbed your face, and you blinked away tears. When did you start crying?

“You're safe. It hurts because of your heart rate, okay? You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. I know it hurts” he said softly. You looked into his eyes, and could finally breathe enough to start hyperventilating.

“Good. I’m going to count, and you’re going to breathe, okay? Breathe in for me- 1…2…3… and breathe out- 1…2…3… Again. I know it hurts but it’ll get better. Follow me. Breathe in- 1…2…3… and out 1…2…3… Good. One more time” he walked you through the breathing efficiently, his voice calm and soft, yet with an air of authority you couldn’t disobey. His thumb traced your eyebrows, and though it was odd at first, it brought a feeling of calm and comfort. You finally could breathe normally, and you huffed out a wet laugh.

“I’m such an idiot” you murmur. Law shakes his head with a sigh.

“You’re not. Did you know he would be here?” he asked softly. You shook your head.

“I should’ve. This is where he lives. I just haven’t seen him since the night he… you know.”

Law traces your eyebrows one more time before smoothing your hair down, then trailed his fingers to your shoulders. He didn’t say anything.

“What’s with the eyebrows thing?” you asked. He looked at you with a soft smile.

“It’s something that soothed me as a kid, and it even works on my crew. I don’t know why it does though” he said with a slight blush. You smiled a little. You heard a little knock on the door. Your body tensed, thinking back to when Zoro used to knock on your doorframe like that

“It’s Chopper!” the small reindeer called. You slumped in relief, and Law went to open the door. Chopper bounded up to you, giving you a hug with his arms thrown around your neck. You nuzzled his fur a little out of habit.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think Zoro would scare you like that” he babbled. You pressed a small kiss to his cheek.

“It’s okay. I should’ve known he’d be here” you murmured. Chopper pulled back, eyes watery.

“Do you want your bath now?” he asked. You nodded, feeling grimy and exhausted.

“Yes, please” you whispered. Law took this as his cue to leave, clicking the door shut behind him. You looked back at Chopper, taking in his adorable look of concentration as he ran gentle hooves over your surgery sites. You flinched a little at the sensitivity, and he pulled back immediately, looking at you with wide, concerned eyes.

“Sorry! Did that hurt?”

You shook your head, a small smile on your face.

“No, it’s just really sensitive,” you answered honestly. Chopper breathed a sigh of relief, and you smelled candy on his breath. You grinned at him.

“Have you been eating too much candy again?” you asked teasingly. The poor little reindeer looked at you in shock before sheepishly smiling at you.

“It’s just my daily limit. I’m a doctor after all” he answered with a giggle. You laughed with him.

“Let’s get me ready for the bath. Do you mind going to fill the tub while I try to get undressed?”

Chopper nodded, jumping off the bench and ran into the bath area to start filling the large tub with hot water. You sighed, and looked down at your shirt. Law had given you special shirts so you wouldn’t have to pull them over your head. There was a zipper down the front, much like the boiler suits that his crew wore. Earlier, you had changed from your pajama version of the shirts into a normal one while Sanji had cleaned up from breakfast in your ensuite bathroom. You were also clothed in loose fitting pants with an elastic waist. It was easy to pull down the pants off your hips, letting them pool to the ground, and you unzipped your shirt. Your underwear was the trickiest part, and often you had to have Nami or Robin help you change into new ones. You pulled your current ones down and stepped out of the pile of clothes. Your attachment sites were throbbing from all the movement of your arms after your panic attack, and there was no way you’d be able to unhook your bra. You heaved a sigh of frustration.

“Need any help?” Chopper peeked out from the bathing area. You looked at him, a defeated look on your face.

“Just my bra” you answered. He nodded and morphed into his human-like form so he had thumbs, and walked behind you. He struggled for a second, but then managed to unhook it with a sound of triumph. You giggled at his sound of triumph and stood, leading the way into the bathing area. You took in the familiar surroundings. A large, tiled bath sat near the window, more the size of a hot tub than a bath. There was a low shower head and a small stool to one side, so you could wash before soaking. You stood before the small stool, looking down at it cautiously, and you looked up at Chopper’s tall form.

“I don’t think I can sit down that far without falling,” you said. Chopper hummed in thought, and then put his hands on your waist, as if to lift you.

“Just let me lower you down then” he said. You looked back at him, and he nodded once with an air of confidence. You slowly began to sit, and your legs suddenly gave out, but Chopper’s hands kept you from falling. He sat you down on the stool.

“There. Easy!”

You looked cautiously at the showerhead.

“And you're absolutely sure I can get these arms wet?” You asked, looking down at your intricate metal arms.

“Absolutely. I had Franky test it more than he said he needed to, so I’m absolutely sure you can get them wet. You can go for a swim with them with no issue too!” Chopper assured you. You looked up at him, and watched as he sat on a spare stool behind you. He reached over to remove the showerhead from its place on the wall and turned on the water.

“How hot do you usually like your showers?” He sprayed the water on your foot, and you hummed at the warm water.

“A little warmer” you answered. Chopper adjusted the hot water and you let out a pleasured sigh as it reached the perfect temperature. He brought the shower head towards him and let the hot water run over your back, and you moaned at how good it felt. Chopper giggled.

“I bet you feel really dirty after not having a shower for so long.”

“I do. This feels amazing.”

You let Chopper wash your back, front, and legs before you took care of your intimate areas yourself while he turned around for your privacy. Once you finished, you let him wash your hair. His hands were big in this form, but he was still gentle with them as he scrubbed your scalp and gently untangled your hair. You sighed in pleasure at the relaxing feeling of him washing your hair, and at the warm water cascading down your back again as he rinsed the shampoo and conditioner out. He turned off the water and helped lift you up so you were standing. He chatted mindlessly about what had been happening on the ship while you were recovering, and it tugged painfully at your heart. He helped keep you balanced as you stepped in the tub, but noticed your expression.

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” he asked, his eyes scanning your arms. You shook your head with a wobbly smile, and sat in the water. Chopper returned to his usual small form and looked up at you. He looked so different without his hat, sitting on the side of the tub.

“I miss you guys, but it’s so hard to come back. I don’t know if I can stay,” you whispered. Chopper’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

“If you miss us, then come back. We love you! You’re part of our family!”

You shook your head, chest clenching in guilt at his plea.

“It’s complicated, Chopper.”

He looked at you, tears dripping down his face.

“Why? It doesn’t have to be!” his voice rose a little with his emotions. Your throat burned as you swallowed down your own tears.

“I love you guys so much, but I need to heal. I need to heal from Zoro and the accident. I can’t look at him without remembering what happened. I can’t be in a situation that I can’t handle because of Luffy’s recklessness. I don’t want to- can’t be- a burden. I’m still your family, Chopper. I’ll still see you. I just need to talk to the rest of the crew about it. I need to heal, and… maybe leave the Strawhats so I can start a new chapter of my life,” you spoke with a wavering voice, tears springing to your eyes as you tried to explain. Chopper looked distraught.

“But… you can heal here! I can take good care of you, and Franky will be here too so he can fix your arms, and with Luffy, Nami, Sanji, Robin, Usopp, and Brook, we’ll take care of you! Please stay? Maybe you can be friends with Zoro again!” he started sobbing as he spoke, and your wall holding back tears crumbled. Hot streaks rolled down your face, and you put your hands on Chopper’s cheeks.

“I know. I know you’d take care of me, that you all would. I want to come back, but I just can’t bring myself to do it when Zoro was so… you know. And honestly I have something going on with Sanji, which is a terrible idea. I want to see Luffy grow and become the King of the Pirates, but I don’t feel like I can belong to this crew the same way anymore. I love you guys. So much…” you trailed off as your sob took your breath away. You continued after a few seconds, “I need this for myself, because it’s my life. I don’t want to become strangers, but I can’t come back here. I can’t bring myself to, not when the Heart Pirates have accepted me and made me feel like one of them so quickly-” you broke off with another sob, and dragged Chopper’s shaking form to your own shuddering chest.

“Please forgive me, but I can’t come back. Not yet. I’ll still see you guys, and call and write though!” you promised, throat burning as you murmured into Chopper’s ear. He pulled back to look up at you with big, watery eyes and sniffed.

“I think… I understand, but I’m still sad. I don’t want you to leave, because I’ll miss you. I know for you to be happier in the long run, you need to leave, but…” he hiccupped and sobbed before continuing, “I just love you lots!” His little face nestled into your neck, and his breath tickled over your neck as he cried.

“I’ll call often, and write and send pictures, okay? The Heart Pirates is a better place for me during this time in my life, and Law is a kind person” you rambled a little. Little hooves wrapped around your neck and you felt his tears drip onto your shoulder. You held him against your chest, feeling his back shudder as he cried quietly. You held him until you both stopped crying, lingering sniffles echoing through the bath, and wet cheeks pressed against each other.

A soft knock at the door to the bath startled you both, but you heard Nami’s voice calling to you.

“Can I come in?” She sounded like she was crying, and your heart clenched in guilt.

“Y-yeah”

The door opened, and she stood with tears in her eyes, looking at you pleadingly.

“I heard everything,” she admitted. You let your body sink in defeat, and you looked down at the water guiltily.

“I’m sorry” you whispered. Swirling emotions choked your throat. Nami shook her head with a wobbly smile on her face.

“I get it. We’ll miss you, and you’ll always be a part of this crew, but… we’ll be heartbroken to see you go, even if it’s what you need to do for now” she answered in a wavering voice. She grabbed your towel and held it out.

“Here. You guys have been here for a while. Sanji made lunch” she said. You stood, and looked at Chopper. He looked back at you with sad eyes before realizing your silent ask for help. He transformed into his human-like form, and held your waist to keep you balanced as you stepped out of the tub. You walked towards Nami, who wrapped the towel around you. Once you were covered, she hugged you tightly.

“You need to tell the rest of the crew, and talk to Zoro. I think he’s finally come to his senses,” she whispered. You nodded against her shoulder. With two helpers, getting dressed was much easier, and you exited the changing area quickly. Law was leaning against the wall casually, looking up from a textbook he had borrowed from the library.

“Did the water hurt your surgery sites at all?” he asked casually. You shook your head, and he grunted in approval.

“Good. It shouldn’t have but I wanted to make sure,” he answered. You smiled a little at his rough exterior that hid his soft, caring side. He held his hand out to activate his powers, a blue glowing dome enveloping all of you.

“Ready to go down?” he asked. You took a deep breath, eyes closed to calm yourself. You almost nodded before your eyes flashed open in worry.

“Is he down there?” you asked. Nami and Law traded a look, but they both nodded.

“He is, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?” Nami said, rubbing her hand up and down your back soothingly. You nodded once, and took another deep breath to calm yourself.

“Okay.”

Law looked at you for one final confirmation, and with your nod, shifted his hand to teleport all of you down to the deck. You blinked and squinted in the bright sunlight, almost flinching at Luffy and Usopp’s screeching as they argued playfully with each other about something. Luffy’s voice called out your name, and you felt the vibrations on the deck of someone running towards you. You finally regained your vision right as he skidded to a stop in front of you, wrapping his arms with extreme care around your middle. His tongue was poking out slightly with concentration at controlling his monstrous strength on your recovering body. You could only laugh at him, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly to you. He let out a squawk when your arms accidentally tightened too much around him, and you loosened your grip a little.

“Hey Luffy,” you said, smiling. He grinned at you, and it filled you with warmth that made your heart clench painfully. Your smile wobbled. He looked at you as his smile faded a little.

“Oi, why are ya crying?” he asked with a giggle. You glanced at Nami, who bit her lip to try to stop her own tears. The rest of the crew, except the swordsman, had gathered around you, and you looked at the rest of them, meeting their eyes before looking back at Luffy.

“I… I think I might go… temporarily at least.”

You could feel the way everybody’s heart dropped at your declaration, even though Sanji, Chopper, and Nami all knew before. Luffy withdrew his arms from around you and stepped back to look at you properly.

“Go where?” he asked gently. You clenched your new hands into fists, and bit your bottom lip. You could feel tears forming, but didn’t want to let them fall.

“With Tra-o” you said simply. Luffy glanced at Law, who was standing away from the conversation, looking at the sea.

“Tra-o!” Luffy called. Law looked back, for once not looking pissed off at your captain, and walked towards the group. You looked back at your crewmates, all fighting back tears. Robin’s beautiful blue eyes were wet, but her small smile said that she understood. Sanji was lighting a cigarette, a tear sliding down his cheek. Usopp and Franky both looked shocked and devastated, and it hurt to meet their eyes. You could hardly tell what Brook was thinking, but from his body language, he seemed devastated as well. You heard Law stop beside you.

“Mugiwara-ya” he answered. Luffy stared at him, a strange aura of menacing, protectiveness, and resignation emanating from him.

“Did you offer?”

Law nodded.

“I offered for them to join my crew to heal fully, and left it up to them whether they wanted to join permanently or go back to you.”

Luffy nodded once, arms crossed over his chest. He stood still a moment, before sighing, and looking at you with a grin.

“You’re free to do what you want. You always are. You’ll always be part of our crew, and will be welcome back anytime, for any reason. You’re family, but you’re free.”

He stepped forward and put one hand on the back of your neck, and lightly bonked his forehead to yours. You suddenly remembered him doing the same action before, with the whisper “This is how we promise now, okay? You and me. No hands or arms necessary.” Your chin wobbled at the action, and you nodded.

“I love you guys in a way I can’t put into words. I can’t tell the future, so maybe someday I’ll be back-” you choked off the end of your sentence with a sob, and let your arms hold Luffy close to you. The rest of the crew surged forward in a hug, everyone careful about your arms. Tears and snot dripped, and wails from almost everyone echoed on the ship. It took you a few seconds, but you realized that the wriggling form next to you was Law, who had gotten caught up in the hug unexpectedly. You laughed wetly at his scowl and his demands to be let go.

“I’ll call and write and send pictures, okay? I just need to do this for myself. I love you all though-” A sob broke off your sentence again, and a fresh round of tears appeared on everybody’s faces. It lasted like that for a few more minutes, and Law had finally given up on having tears and snot wiped on his clothes from your crew.

A deep, uncomfortable cough broke you out of your haze, and the crew parted to reveal a defeated-looking Zoro. He sat on the grass, slouched over and looked at the group guiltily. You swallowed hard, looking at him. Franky grabbed your hand in assurance, and you glanced up at him gratefully.

“I’m… I’m sorry” he said. His steely gaze seemed cracked from guilt and despair, and he met your eyes steadily. Your grip tightened around Franky’s hand, and you were glad it was his, because your grip may have broken bones. You swallowed hard.

“For what?” You asked quietly. He looked surprised, and glanced at the rest of the crew. They filtered off to the other side of the deck, giving you all space, but still watching closely. Law took the moment to escape and shed his now-dirty coat, but watched your interaction with Zoro intensely. Franky stayed by your side, holding your hand. Zoro took a few steps forward, and it took all you had not to back away.

“For everything. For not listening to you when you said we should run, for being weak enough to be unconscious when you needed me, for…” he trailed off, shutting his eyes and running a hand through his hair, as if the next words were poison on his tongue, but he looked back into your eyes and continued with an unwavering voice, “for abusing you when you needed me the most. For leaving you alone when you were going through the hardest time in your life. I’m so sorry. I’m glad that Luffy, the Cook, and Franky stopped me. I keep wanting to give you excuses, like I was also hurting, that I felt weak and angry at myself and I took that out on you, but honestly, I don’t have an excuse. I was upset, traumatized, but I should’ve worked through that with you, together. I’m a better man because of you, and I tossed you aside,” he stopped talking, finally looking down at the ground. You watched him closely. Emotions swirled in your heart and mind. You were angry that he was apologizing, and that he did what he did in the first place. You felt guilty that you didn’t see he was suffering, even though you had every right to not feel guilty. You felt relieved that he hadn’t changed for the worse forever, and also sad that he was even capable of the actions. You shook your head and sighed. You were shaking, and you gripped Franky’s hand a little harder. He looked down at you, making sure you were alright. You didn’t look back at him, instead focused on replying to Zoro.

“I can’t lie and say that I’m not leaving because of you. Mostly, I am. I don’t think I can be around you without sacrificing my happiness, which is the last thing anybody here wants. I don’t-” Your answer was cut off by Zoro’s interruption.

“Shhh. You don’t have to forgive me, but if you do, let me know. Please.”

Your anger flared white-hot at the shushing and interruption. You let go of Franky’s hand, and took a step forward, fists balled so tightly your surgery sites throbbed.

“You don’t get to shush me. You don’t get to interrupt me, and you don’t ever get to tell me what to do, especially when it comes to me forgiving you! You still have a long way to go, Roronoa Zoro. I am free to do whatever I want. I’m leaving this crew to go to the Heart Pirates, and I will miss everyone except you. I’m not something to be won, and I’m not a goal to reach. Now, please, if you wouldn’t mind, can I have just one lunch with the rest of the crew?” angry tears spilled down your cheeks, making you more pissed off. You saw hurt in Zoro’s eyes, a depth of aching and hurt that reflected your own that one fateful night. He looked down at the ground, crossing his arms over his chest. You were breathing heavily, and guilt clanged with sharpened edges around your heart, even though you knew you had every right to say those words. You looked down at the ground as well, using your shoulders to wipe away your tears. From the edges of your vision, you saw his boots turn as he walked away. You turned back to Franky, looking up at him, eyes full of regret and questioning.

“Franky…” you whispered. He only held his arms out and you ran into his body, desperate to feel safe again. He held you to his chest tightly. Your body was shaking, and your breathing was erratic, but with his comforting presence, your breathing exercises began to come to you naturally. It took a few minutes, but your breathing calmed and your shaking sputtered to nothing.

“There ya go, sis. Good job. You did so well talking to him. You did everything right. I promise,” he soothed you gently, quietly. You were glad for his rumbling voice that pushed aside your fears and hesitation. You finally pulled back enough to look up at him.

“...was I too hard on him?”

Franky looked at you softly, and smoothed your hair.

“Unfortunately, that’s not for me to decide. If it were though, I’d say that you weren’t. He’ll be upset for a while, yes, but that’s because of his own mistake. He’ll grow from it slowly,” he said gently. You let out a deep sigh.

“Why did I have to be the lesson?” you mumble softly. Franky sighed as well.

“People say that bad things happen for a reason, that it’s for you to get stronger or learn something. Me though… I think bad things just happen. I think they happen and it’s up to you to decide what to do. You can fall into the bad, or you can rise above it. You’ve risen above it,” he said. You finally pulled back, holding both of his hands in yours. You give him a wobbly smile.

“Only because of you guys though.”

Franky shakes his head.

“Well, we helped ya, sis, but you’re the one who fought. We just gave you support.”

You can’t help but laugh a little at his words.

“...thank you” you whisper. He smiles broadly at you, then looks over to the picnic blanket set up on the lawn.

“C’mon. Let’s getcha fed, okay?”

You nod, and hold his hand as he leads you to the blanket, sitting down. Nami, Sanji, Robin, Brook, and Usopp join you, and you look around for your captain. He’s standing on the Sunny’s lionhead, looking out towards the sea. A jolt of guilt washes through you. What was he going through? Zoro is his first mate and best friend, but he loves everyone on his crew. Having a fallout on his crew must be tough. You sigh, and look at Sanji.

“How’s Luffy doing with all of… this?” you wave your hand uselessly at yourself and the general direction Zoro had taken off, towards the Crows Nest. Sanji hands you a plate and looks at you, surprised.

“Luffy… is leaving it up to the two of you. He loves you both dearly, but understands how serious this is. He understands that Zoro messed up and hurt you, but also knows that it’s his burden to deal with,” Sanji puffed on his cigarette, loading another plate with amazing food and handing it to Nami. Nami nodded at his words.

“Sanji-kun is right. Luffy understands,” she said carefully. You nod, and look back towards the masthead but don’t see your captain anymore. Your hands suddenly feel lighter as the plate is snatched out of your metal grip and Luffy’s cheerful laughter rings above you.

“Gotcha!” he crows loudly beside you. You jump a little and look at him in shock, clearly seeing the moment Sanji’s foot connected with the captain, sending him sprawling back. Your plate was delivered to your hands again, not a single piece out of place. You couldn’t help but laugh at the usual antics of the crew, silencing Sanji’s yells at the rubber boy, who sat sheepishly on the grass. Nami, Robin, and Usopp joined in your laughter, the others following quickly. You heard everyone laughing except… Chopper. You look around for him, and finally catch his little form crawling down from the Crows Nest. Your smile dimmed from a grin to one that was softer as you connected the dots in your mind. Chopper went to check on the swordsman, and probably brought him some food as well. Your heart ached at the thought, but you were glad that he would still be treated normally by the rest of the crew.

You began to eat, but at the first bite of the heavenly food, tears pooled in your eyes. It tasted like home. Luffy was the first to notice you crying, and immediately began yelling at Sanji for cooking you bad food. Sanji began wailing and apologizing to you, creating a fuss that was only stopped when Nami whacked them both upside the head with a merciless fist.

“Both of you! Stop it!” she barked. Both Luffy and Sanji turned to her, pouting for two very different reasons.

“You’d be crying too if it was your last lunch with everyone for the foreseeable future, okay? Now both of you shut up and eat!” She sat back down with an air of finality, and the two men looked at each other and then looked at you, understanding on their faces.

“So… your food tastes good?” Luffy asked. You laughed and nodded.

“Amazing, as always.”

Sanji looked to be immensely relieved, and Luffy turned to the cook with a bright grin.

“My bad!” he exclaimed before inhaling an entire cut of meat. Sanji loaded his plate with another portion as an acceptance of his apology, and you smiled at the interaction, your lip wobbling a little. Someone shifted on your other side, and you turned to look. Robin smiled back at you, a cup of steaming tea in her hands. It smelled flowery, like lavender and roses.

“You can still stay, you know,” she said quietly. You bit your lip and looked down at your food, tears finally falling down your cheeks. You shook your head.

“I… don’t think I can. Not right now,” you said, tears thickening your voice. She put a hand on your shoulder, and that spoke volumes.

“I understand, and we’ll miss you, but we want your happiness and safety over anything. Tra-o is a great man, and you’ll find who you’re growing to be with him. But, you’ll always have a home here. You’re our family,” she said softly. The rest of the crew was quiet, having heard her words. You looked at each of them fully. Robin gave you a smile, and tightened her hand on your shoulder. Franky gave you a grin, somehow managed to do his signature ‘Super’ pose while sitting, clashing his forearms together above his head. Usopp gave you a thumbs up with a grin and a confident chuckle, and Brook whipped out a violin and began playing for you. Chopper had joined and heard everything, giving you a confident smile that made his eyes sparkle. Nami’s eyes were watering, but she looked at you with a kind smile. Sanji lit his cigarette, and looked at you softly, a smile on his lips. Luffy grinned at you, and wrapped his arm around you a few times, holding you tightly to his side. His other hand took off his hat and plopped it on your head, tilted over your eyes to hide your falling tears. You let your wet face fall against Luffy’s neck, sniffling.

“I’ll miss Zoro. I know I said I wouldn’t, but I will. I love and will miss all of you. I promise,” You pulled back enough to tap your forehead gently against his, your special way of promising. His bright laughter was all you could hear for a second, before he spoke.

“I know. We all do. We’ll miss you too, but for now… let’s party!” He announced. You couldn’t help but smile. Brook began playing an upbeat song, and Nami dragged you up to dance with Chopper and Robin. Franky joined in, and Sanji disappeared into the kitchen, bringing back drinks for everyone.

All of you partied until sunset, when Sanji brought out dinner. Law had mostly stayed out of the way, but was dragged into festivities by Luffy, who said he was being a wimp for not enjoying the celebration of the new addition to his crew. Their argument devolved into something that led to the Heart Pirate crew joining the festivities on the Sunny, much to Law’s chagrin about them being exposed to “Straw Hat idiocy”. Luffy declared he “won”, which led into them bickering, until Luffy laughed freely and called Law and his crew “honorary Straw Hats”, which both crews cheered at, leaving Law to pout and brood in a corner with some beer. You giggled and approached your new captain, your surgery sites aching from drinking and eating so much. You sat next to him, and he spared you a glance before muttering under his breath.

“Honorary Straw Hats my ass. Then the Straw Hats should all be honorary Heart Pirates.”

You couldn't help but snicker at his annoyance.

“With your desire to keep the Straw Hat’s off your ship, it might be better not to go there” you say with a smirk. Law rolls his eyes.

“Why did I ever have to meet him,” he groaned, gesturing to Luffy. You looked at your captain- previous captain?- and smiled at him, watching as he was somehow managing to shovel food in his mouth while also dancing around the fire, ignoring Sanji yelling at him that it would make him sick. You giggled at the sight.

“That means you're blessed by fate, I guess,” you answer with a chuckle. Law looked at you, face unreadable. He grunted finally, and glanced down at your arms.

“You’ve been moving around a lot today, and eating and drinking more. How are your arms?”

You looked down at the surgery sites with a grimace.

“They don’t feel great, that’s for sure. They’re throbbing and stinging,” you answer honestly. Law’s brows knit together briefly, and he exhaled sharply.

“Okay. It’s to be expected but just give me a second,” he said as he stood. A blue dome appeared, expanding quickly, and Law disappeared with a flick of his hand. He appeared a few moments later, and the blue dome disappeared. He sat next to you, shifting through the first aid kit he brought back with him.

“This is your arm first aid kit. I made it for you with the help of Chopper and Franky. Hmmm… where did I put it?”

Your breath caught with gratefulness, and your eyes flicked between Law’s face and the box a few times before he pulled something out of it. He looked at you briefly before doing a double take, annoyed concern on his face.

“What the hell is that look? Why do you have the same look as Bepo? Stop being cute!”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, trying to give him a hug even though your arms were in too much pain. He grunted and tried to gently push you off, but you pushed against his hand, keeping yourself glued to his shoulder. He huffed a sigh of annoyance.

“Get off me. I need to look at the attachment sites. And here, take these.”

He held two pills in his fingers, and you recognized them as regular pain medicine that reduced inflammation. You sat up properly and held open your mouth, and Law dropped them onto your waiting tongue and held up your glass immediately to help you take a sip. It was a familiar routine by this point, when he would feed you medicine when you couldn’t lift your arms yet. You took a sip of your drink and swallowed the pills easily, and he put your drink down between you. He plucked another package out of the box and you looked at it curiously. He answered your silent question.

“It’s a sort of wipe that will ease the stinging. At least I designed the solution the cloth was soaked in to do that, but we’ll see if it works,” he said factually. He said it so casually that it took you a second to register his words, but by the time you did, he was already wiping the tiny piece of cloth over your skin. You yelped and shut your eyes tightly, waiting for something to happen.

“What the hell are you doing? It’s not going to hurt you” Law said with an amused lilt to his voice. You opened one eye cautiously, staring down at your surgery site. The stinging was slowly starting to ebb, and he finished wiping down the circumference of your arm.

“You can’t just experiment on me!” you whined. Law snorted and then smirked.

“I didn’t. I used the same solution when my tattoos were freshly done and I got into a fight. It stung like a bitch. I thought it would help you as well,” he explained. You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.

“You’re lucky it worked,” you pouted. Law raised a single brow.

“Do you seriously think Chopper-ya would allow me to put something in your first aid kit that he hadn’t tried himself?”

You paused.

“No, because I didn’t have time to think” you shot back. Law snorted and shook his head.

“Let me do the other arm,” he stood and moved to the other side, quickly swiping the cloth over your other attachment site. You blinked down at your arm. The stinging was subsiding from both arms. Not completely, but it was definitely better than before. You looked up at him, smiling.

“Thanks, captain” you said cheekily. Law blushed slightly and hid his face under the brim of his hat.

“...you’re welcome,” he murmured.

You leaned back against the side of the boat and looked up at the stars.

“How often do you get to see the stars on your ship?”

Law grunted quietly.

“It depends on the weather, but I surface and let the crew out as much as I can,” he says quietly. You nodded.

“Thank you… for offering,” you mumble. You felt Law’s golden eyes on you, and after a moment, you finally met his gaze. You couldn’t decipher the emotion that was shining brightly in his eyes.

“You’re free to do as you wish. You’re free to follow your heart, and that can take you to surprising places. I’m almost jealous that you’re free to do that, because I don’t feel like I can trust my heart to take me to good places,” he said softly. You blinked in surprise, but said nothing. Law sighed, then stood. He offered you a hand as he stood above you to help you up. The orange from the fire was gorgeous on his black hair, and it highlighted the definition of his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. You let a small smile curl your lips.

“I’m scared, but I trust you,” you said after a moment. Law smirked at you. Your hand rose to grasp his, but you both knew the casual gesture was a promise. A promise of trust in each other and in the future to bring good to you. You stood, and he pushed you gently in the direction of the party.

“Go. I’ll be here. Come back if you hurt,” he murmured. You cast a smile over your shoulder and went to join the party, letting various people (and animals) from both crews hug you and fold you into the celebration.

—------

2 Months Later:

You let the salty breeze trail incandescent fingers along your skin and through your hair, and you breathed in the scent of fresh air. It had been about a week since the sub had been able to surface, and you were desperate for the breeze. Footsteps thumped on the deck behind you, approaching your form.

“How are your arms?” he asked boredly. You snorted.

“Do you really have to ask multiple times a day, every day?” You turned to meet him, his golden eyes matching his double earrings, glinting in the sun. He frowned.

“I’m a doctor,” he said as if that were an answer. You giggled. He pouted.

“Captain, you know that's not an answer. You can just admit that you have a crush on me~” you teased slyly. Law’s cheeks darken with a blush that he tried to hide under the brim of his hat.

“Shut up and get back to work. Bepo is over there shedding again, and I want the deck clean,” he ordered. You laughed.

“Yes sir!” you saluted him mockingly and picked up the broom again. You let your mind wander over the last few months, recalling how you’ve healed. Physically, you would still get twinges and pulls when you moved the wrong way or when you worked too hard. Some days when there were storms, your surgery sites ached, and some days the phantom limb pain hurt like a bitch. Through it all though was Law. He was a steady rock that gave you answers and honesty when you needed them the most, and comfort that was only for your eyes and ears. Your PTSD from the accident hadn’t gotten much better, but Law told you that it could take even years for you to fully recover, if you do at all. He held you through your panic attacks, opening his door to you without question in the middle of the night when you were shaking and crying. Sometimes, Bepo was there too and the three of you would cuddle together, finding solace in sleep. When someone raised their voice even slightly at you, you still reacted. You started shaking and stuttering, fighting back tears, even as they lowered their voice and talked to you soothingly to provide a distraction for your adrenaline-driven mind.

Law was basically a casual boyfriend. He refused to commit to anything deeper than cuddles, kisses, and soft words until he knew that he wasn’t a rebound or someone that you bonded with through trauma. You respected his decision, and was happy with the current relationship the two of you had. He was always busy anyways, and you were busy trying to heal. You kept sweeping the deck, flinching when your arm twinged the wrong way. You looked down at your metal arms with a frown. You didn’t wear your sleeves today, deciding to allow the sun on your scars. You could feel echoes of touch, like if you were wearing a pair of thin gloves on your hands. The crew had learned the upkeep of your arms quickly, and were pros at fixing anything that went wrong with them. You paused and wiped the sweat off your cheek with your shoulder. Your eyes landed on the resident polar bear peering through binoculars, focused on one particular spot.

“Hey Bepo, whatcha lookin at?”

“Sorry, I just saw something in the distance. I think it looks familiar… sorry I can’t see it clearly yet,” he said, bowing as he apologized. You frowned a little, then took the binoculars from him. Your eyes focused on the dot on the horizon, and a wide smile cracked your face.

“Go tell the captain- the Strawhats are going to visit!”

Bepo ran off and you giggled a little with excitement. You suddenly saw a small figure shoot off of the ship, and you laughed with delight. You heard one of your favorite voices whooping with joy. You jumped in place and waved your arms, guiding Luffy to the right spot of the ship.

“Luffy! I’ve miss- OOF!” your greeting was cut off as he slammed into you, sending the both of you tumbling to the deck. The wind was knocked out of you, but Luffy laughed loudly.

“I’ve missed you! Have you been having good food? Do you have adventures? Have you eaten good meat on the adventures?!” Luffy questioned you rapid-fire, and once you got your breath back you pushed him off you.

“One thing at a time, Luffy. Law is going to yell at you for boarding his ship without permission,” you warned with a giggle. Luffy grinned with a chuckle.

“Yep, but I get to see you. Everyone else is coming on the ship, and then we can have lunch and dinner together, okay?” he said excitedly. You nod with a laugh.

“Of course!”

“Oh are you coming back yet?” he asked with wide eyes. A jolt of fear and guilt went through you, clenching your heart.

“N-no. I’m not healed enough yet,” you murmur. Luffy nods, then is suddenly gone, a piece of Bepo’s fur floating down where he sat.

“MUGIWARA-YA!” you heard Law yell. You looked over, and he was holding Luffy over the railing of the ship by his shirt. Luffy only laughed.

“Hey, Tra-o! Let’s have lunch and dinner all together, yeah?” Law snarled and was about to drop Luffy into the ocean but you called out.

“I’m not leaving yet, I just miss them!”

Law looked at you with what you knew to be a pout, but to anyone else looked like a glower. He tossed Luffy back onto the deck, who sprawled next to you easily.

“So… Tra-o, huh?” he said in a whisper. You blink at him, shocked that he actually picked up on the relationship between you and the surgeon.

“Not yet, but maybe,” you whisper back. Luffy frowns a little.

“Hm. Well eventually I hope you’ll come back when you’re ready. We can even have Tra-o on our crew if you want to stay together. I’m still the captain though,” he said firmly. You snorted and then giggled.

“You’re going to be King of the Pirates, Luffy. Of course you’ll still be the captain.”

Luffy grinned and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, then lowered his face so his forehead bonked against yours. It hurt a little, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’ve missed you."

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@blue-rae18 @metonimia-de-bellota @perilous-pasta @thesleppybitch darkartincub0-blog @letssayless @brokenangstyheart @stachelrose @fluffybunnyu @yunho-leeknow @admoonchild @lakkiiii @khjcoo @chhyuengkai @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction

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spectersgirl · 7 months

Text

So like... truly not a single individual asked for even anything remotely this but I've had it sitting partially unfinished in my drafts since the day I started this blog. I'm debating turning it into like a 3ish part mini-series but please do let me know if you guys think I should just leave it alone or keep going! If I did continue this, know that future parts would be juicier and likely include a bit of angst as it would kind of work perfectly with a request I have in my inbox!

Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy :)

Something More

Harvey Specter x Reader

--------

You were in such a rush to get to work that you hadn’t bothered to check your phone until you were already on the train and headed to your office. If you had, maybe you would’ve put a bit more attention into your appearance on that particular day. Once you were in your seat, you finally pulled out your phone and noticed a rather… compelling message from none other than Harvey Specter. Your heart nearly beat out of your chest.

You’d very recently become a junior partner at the firm, which meant you’d be working just a bit more closely with him than when you were simply an associate. This thought both excited you and also freaked you out just a little. Harvey was the biggest of the big dogs in corporate law, and to say you weren't intimidated would simply be a lie.

The message Harvey had sent you was simple, as he didn’t tend to beat around the bush or waste any time when it came to much of anything.

“Come see me when you get in, I want to chat. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. Oh, and there’s something waiting for you in your office.”

You pictured the smirk he had while typing out that message, knowing he'd made you nervous.

You fluffed up your hair a little and checked your lipgloss in the reflection of your front camera and before you knew it, you found yourself pressing the elevator button up to Pearson Specter, and clicking your heels as you walked to Harvey’s office. You decided to go straight there, wanting to get whatever this was out of the way. You paused when you reached Donna’s desk, unsure of whether or not you needed to check in with her first. You'd never been summoned to Harvey's office before.

“You can go right on in, hon. He already told me he’s expecting you.” She said with a slight smile, not even needing to look up from her screen to see who was there.

“H-how’d you know it was me?” You asked, visibly thrown off by her skill. You didn't have a ton of interaction with Donna when you were an associate, only here and there and you’d heard she was good at this type of thing, but damn.

She looked up and gave you the “Do you really have to ask me that” face.

“Right. Thanks, Donna” you said as you turned toward Harvey’s office, only slightly embarrassed.

You knocked on his door, which sat slightly ajar. He was reading from a file folder, but closed it when he saw you enter.

“She Donna’d you, didn’t she?” He asked with amusement present in his tone.

“That she did. But umm, you... wanted to see me?" Your stomach was doing flips, despite him saying you weren't in any trouble, you felt like you were anyway.

He smiled, gesturing at the seat in front of him at his desk. You cautiously sat down, your guard still up.

“I told you, you're not in trouble. You can relax, Y/N. I don't bite. I just wanted to congratulate you personally on making junior partner. I know we’ve never really crossed paths much since you started here, but I really look forward to getting to know you. From what I've heard, you do great work, Y/N. It definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by me, or any of the senior staff. You’re going to do great things here.” He said earnestly.

You were floored. Of anything you expected Harvey to call you into his office for, this wouldn’t have even cracked your top 20 guesses. Up until your promotion, you weren’t even confident he knew your name let alone knew about and recognized the hard work you constantly put in.

“O-oh! Really? Thank you! That means everything coming from you.” You replied.

"Of course 'really', I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." He said with a chuckle.

You relaxed your shoulders and sunk a tiny bit lower in your seat.

Harvey opened his mouth to say something else, but as he did, Donna poked her head in to let him know he had a call from a client.

You quickly stood up and smoothed your dress out.

“I’ll let you take that, but thank you again, Harvey. I really appreciate it.” You told him.

He smiled warmly and stood now, too, walking you the few feet to his doorway. You mentally noted how gentlemanly this was, saving the thought for later.

By the time you got to your office you had completely forgotten the other part of Harvey's message from earlier, that he had left something on your desk. Neatly placed in front of your laptop was the most beautiful bouquet of flowers you’d ever seen, and a stack of business cards, embossed with your name and the new title. A post-it note sat on top of them with “Congrats!” written in Harvey’s handwriting. You smiled widely. To you, even these cards meant more than you could possibly describe. They were a physical manifestation of all the hard work you'd put in, everything you'd gone through and overcame. As for the flowers, well, they definitely were a shock to you. You didn’t take Harvey as a flowers guy.

You settled into your desk chair, smiling down at the stack of cards before signing into your computer, and getting started on the slightly mountainous pile of work you had to take care of. With a promotion of course came more cases and harder work, but regardless, you were still glad to have been promoted.

You were deep in your laptop typing up a brief for one of your cases when you noticed a presence standing in your doorway.

“Oh, Harvey! Hey, sorry I was just in my head. I was going to come by earlier and thank you for the flowers and the cards. They’re beautiful”

Harvey grinned and nodded his head.

“Of course, you deserve them! Though I can’t exactly take credit for the floral arrangement… that was all Donna.”

“What can Donna not do?”

“I’ve been asking myself that for the last twelve years."

"Did I hear my name?" Donna said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and making Harvey nearly jump out of his skin.

You smiled brightly, greeting the redhead and thanking her for the flowers. She lit up and told you all about her florist, telling you she'd get you a business card asap.

As the week went on, you found yourself having more run-in's like this with Harvey than you'd had in the entirety of your employment at the firm. Surely it was a coincidence, or at least that's what you'd convinced yourself anyway.

The remaining Harvey-free parts of your week didn't nearly live up to how your first morning as a partner had gone. You had been hitting dead end after dead end in all your cases and nothing was going the way you'd planned. The deposition you had scheduled for Friday got moved, so at the very least, you were able to head home a little earlier than you planned. You were wrapping up and grabbing your coat when a knock on your office door made you jump, the tension from your rather hellish week still rattling you.

"Hey sorry to scare you, I just wanted to see how your first official week as a junior partner went?"

You huffed a sigh in response, not wanting to make a big deal out of the tough day that surely you'd get over.

Harvey chuckled at this.

"That bad, huh?"

"I'll be fine, I’ll get it figured out it’s just everything I tried to do went exactly the opposite of how I wanted it to go."

"I would tell you we've all been there, but I wouldn't want to lie to you," Harvey replied, smirking as he straightened his tie. "Harvey Specter always gets what he wants"

"Mmm, I'm sure he does.” You mused. “Well Harvey, as much as I'd like to chat more, I was about to head home and have a very large, very strong drink."

"Funny, I was about to ask if you'd like to join me for a drink."

You paused for a beat, weighing the pros and cons of going for a drink with Harvey. On one hand, he was technically your boss and it wouldn't be the worst idea to get to know him better. On the other, it made you a little nervous having any alcohol in your system around him. For totally work-related reasons, of course, and no other reasons.

"Fuck it," you thought to yourself. "live a little."

“You know what Harvey? Sure. I'd like that.”

Harvey grinned in a way that made your stomach erupt with butterflies.

"Good, let's get out of here." He said, grabbing your coat off the coat rack and handing it to you.

You grabbed it from him, put your bag over your shoulder and flicked the lamp on your desk off.

Harvey stood by the door to your office, holding it open and letting you go first.

"Wow, and to think just yesterday I thought you were only a pretty boy with an ego. Harvey Specter is actually a gentleman?" You questioned teasingly. Harvey raised an eyebrow, smirking as you both walked toward the elevators.

"All I'm hearing is that you think I'm pretty"

"Not the point, Specter."

"It's the only point I caught. Did you say something else?"

"And suddenly I'm regretting saying yes to you"

Harvey chuckled now, pressing the lobby button as the elevator doors closed.

Not an hour later, the two of you were seated at a small table in whatever fancy bar it was that Harvey had taken you to. You'd forgotten the name, but apparently, it was somewhere Harvey frequented if the exceptional treatment from the staff and the fact that they knew his name was any indication.

You ordered the drink you always ordered, a whiskey ginger with a lime, and Harvey nodded approvingly before ordering his own drink.

Once your server walked away, he turned to you with an impressed look on his face.

"You're a whiskey girl?"

You shrugged. "I've become one, I used to be a vodka girl in college though." You said with a giggle, remembering all the nights stumbling home from parties with your college roommate after way too many vodka lemonades.

"I was a 'whatever gets me drunk the fastest' guy myself," Harvey said, making you both laugh. Your drinks arrived and you held your glass up to cheers before taking the first sip.

You were surprisingly having a great time with Harvey, he was really getting to know you and you were even able to squeeze a few stories out of him, too. As time passed and the more drinks you had, the more you let your guard down and finally admitted to yourself that Harvey wasn't the same cocky guy you'd heard about from the rest of the world. He'd already started to show this in the workplace, but now that all the stress of the office was gone maybe, just maybe, you were even starting to admit to yourself that you wanted something else between the two of you. You pondered this while Harvey ordered another drink for each of you, your fourth of the night.

"Okay that'll have to be my last one, I can assure you, you don't want to see drunk Y/N this early into knowing me. She can be a handful" You warned with a smile.

Harvey chuckled in response, nodding in understanding.

You each sipped your drinks as you chatted some more, giving him some more bits and pieces about your life.

Harvey flagged down the server when you were both finished and before you could even offer to pay for your drinks, Harvey had already handed over his Amex.

"You didn't have to do that, I'm more than capable of buying my own drinks." You stated, standing and draping your coat over your arm. The heat from your slight intoxication warming you enough as it was. Harvey followed your lead, standing from his own chair before responding. He stepped slightly forward, much closer to you.

"I know you are, I just wanted to celebrate you making junior partner and show you that I really enjoyed your company tonight," Harvey said softly, a genuine smile on his face.

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire at his admission, and at the lack of distance.

"I happened to enjoy your company too."

You knew it was risky, and likely unrequited, to feel the way you felt right there in that busy yet intimate bar. You rationally knew that he probably was just being nice because he wanted to get to know you better for working purposes, but the drinks you'd had were starting to catch up with you and you didn't know how long you'd be able to take this closeness.

Harvey spoke, interrupting your train of thought.

"Look, I know it might cause some talk around the office, but I'd like to have something more with you. So, if you're feeling what I'm feeling, I'd really like to see you again. I mean, I'll see you at work obviously. But I'd like to take you out again, more planned this time-" He stammered, making you smile.

"Harvey?"

"Hmm?"

"Stop talking."

Before you could think twice you were pulling him close, planting your lips on his, and he wasted no time returning the gesture. When you finally pulled away, slightly out of breath, Harvey tucked your hair behind your ear.

"So is that a yes?"

"That's definitely a yes."

#harvey specter #harvey specter x reader #suits fics #harveyspecter #harvey specter suits #suits #NOT A REQUEST omg who am I

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