#harvey ten hearts

[stardewremixed]

First Kiss with Harvey

@nectar33n requested Harvey first so here goes. I’m not sure if you wanted canon or non-canon or if you wanted a female or male or nonbinary Farmer. I’m going with canon/female Farmer. I wrote a freakin’ novel so spoilers... haha! Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Hope you don’t mind. 

It was the morning of the surprise. Harvey set his alarm for 5am. He knew the Farmer was an early riser, but he wasn’t sure how early. The night before he tossed and turned in bed. He was nervous. Not because of the height of the hot air balloon ride, but because he hoped beyond hope that today would be the day. Today he would confess his true feelings to the Farmer, the woman who stole his whole heart. 

As a doctor, Harvey knew he could not survive without his heart. Logically. If she rejected him, he wasn’t sure how he would survive, except that he wanted her to be happy. And then it would be awkward at two thousand feet above ground if she said no. 

Argh! Harvey had been paranoid about missing his alarm, and so he woke up at a half past four. It was much too early, but he slipped his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. Laying his head back against the pillow, he tried a self-soothing technique that had worked for years. Deep breath in. Hold. One. Two. Three. Four. Exhale. 

After ten more deep breaths, his heart rate slowed. Still, when he tucked his arm behind his head, he saw only five minutes had passed. The time mocked him, the little red digital light aggravating his brain. Grunting once more, he resolved to get up, and mustered strength to swing his legs over the bed, one at a time. 

It was too late to take it back. His invitation. He scribbled a note on a piece of memo paper from his doctor’s pad, asking the Farmer to join him right before dawn for a surprise. If he went back now, he would look like an idiot. He already felt stupid staking out her place to make sure she was in for the night before he timidly slipped the note in the mailbox. 

Perhaps he should have thought it through more and used pretty stationary. Like the kind she always slipped in with her homemade jar of pickles. His heart always skipped a little beat when he saw a fresh jar waiting for him outside the Clinic in the morning. A sign she was thinking of him. 

Or when she dropped by on blustery afternoons to bring him coffee, always when he was fading the most. The little hearts she drew on the cup sleeve brightened his days and mindset. Somehow she just knew he needed a pick-me-up. It was a sixth sense. As a man of science, he didn’t always trust the mystical, what others described as “gut feelings.” And yet, Farmer made him want to believe in a deeper connection to the soul, and to a Higher Power. 

Farmer always checked the mail first thing. He liked that about her. She had her routines. He had his own. Predictable, and yet open to surprises. She shared with him once. With that same little head-tilt and charming smile that could sweep a man off his feet. Or in Harvey’s case stumble over his own two feet. He winced as he tripped into the bathroom and flicked on the light, wishing he had the sense to slid his toes into slippers before padding around in the dead of night. 

Reaching for the shower handles, he turned the water to scalding hot. The heat would relax him. He liked it to feel like a sauna. His apartment above the office was modest, small, just big enough for him. No space for a bathtub, but he didn’t mind. He was usually in a hurry. Harvey yanked his black tee shirt over his head. The mirror was already fogging. He stared into the glass after wiping away some of the steam. His eyes looked tired. His hair was wild. And he could have sworn he saw a wrinkle near his forehead. 

Perhaps he was selfish to ask her to be his girlfriend. She deserved someone younger. Someone who could keep up with her endless energy. Someone who wasn’t so preoccupied and could help out more around the farm. He wasn’t a “spring chicken.” He hoped the age gap wouldn’t bother her, and he assured himself that it never had before. She even confessed once that she was attracted to older men after one too many pale ales at the Saloon. 

Removing his pajama bottoms and boxers, Harvey stepped into the shower before he changed his mind. He was older, but he was no slouch. He worked out once a week with the ladies - good cardio at Caroline’s studio. And he took walks once a day all over the village, sometimes twice a day if he was facing a particularly challenging medical problem. Sometimes Farmer joined him, and he grew to like her company. No, he ruffled shampoo through his hair, he grew to love her company. 

Even with doctor-patient confidentiality in a tiny town where everyone knew everyone, Harvey could still vaguely discuss different issues he faced. She listened intently, engaged in the conversation, offering an encouraging head nod or smile as needed. He could tell she liked to listen to him talk, even when he felt like he was rambling. Her eyes shone. 

Harvey puffed his chest out a little with pride as he soaped up, thinking about his mother’s insistence that he take vocal lessons as a teen. Learning Latin for mass (which helped in medical school) and singing tenor (for the ladies) paid off. His patients often said he possessed a soothing voice and kind bedside manner. Or one very special lady. He smiled to himself as he stepped from the shower and wrapped himself in a towel. 

A half hour later, dressed, everything packed into a picnic basket, Harvey padded over to his kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. Even the particular brand of beans reminded him of Farmer. She grew a coffee plant just for him in her greenhouse so he could have his favorites year-round, and roasted the beans with the help of Gus at the Saloon. Her thoughtfulness knew no bounds. 

A steady rap at the door downstairs startled him. Harvey glanced at the clock. Almost 5:45 a.m. He had checked the paper so he knew the sun would rise at ten after six. Was she early? He plucked his cell phone from his shirt pocket, but it did not reveal a text message. Harvey slid into his familiar brown loafers and walked downstairs. 

“Evelyn?” 

His eyes widened with surprise to see his elderly neighbor standing on his doorstep. She was bundled up warm in her typical red coat and the pair of black leather gloves her husband George had purchased to help her poor circulation. Her smile told him he had nothing to worry about, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“Is everything okay with George?” he asked, stepping aside so she could step into the clinic. 

George was one of his most temperamental patients, and frequently didn’t listen to his advice. It had taken almost two years for George to trust Harvey as a doctor. And even then, he grumbled about asking for help. 

“Yes, yes,” Evelyn said. “He’s still sleeping like a log. The machine you suggested though does cut back on his snoring. I barely hear it anymore.” 

She removed her gloves. Harvey nodded. 

“I’m glad it was useful for him. How can I help you?” 

“I saw your light. And I was up anyhow.” 

She reached into her bag, revealing wrapped hot bread. Freshly baked. Evelyn told him she often rolled doughs when she had trouble sleeping. 

“I thought,” her blue eyes twinkled. “You and the Farm Girl would appreciate this.” 

“How?” he ran a hand through his hair. “...did you?” 

She smirked. “I’m not psychic, Doc. I just know you. And you were running all over town this past week making special preparations for a ‘special’ date with a ‘special’ someone.” 

Harvey’s face relaxed into a smile. “Oh I was that obvious?” He chuckled ruefully. “I guess, I was.”

“Relax, Doc, she’s going to say yes,” Evelyn said, reaching up to tap his shoulder. “After all, you’re quite the catch.”

At her words, Harvey felt his cheeks grow hot. Evelyn meant well. She truly was a “Granny” to the entire town. He managed a meek “thank you” and waved, watching to make sure she made it back to her home across the square. When he saw her residence light turn on, Harvey returned inside the clinic. Reaching for his coat, he buttoned up, grabbed his basket of goodies, and tucked Evelyn’s bread inside before stepping back out. 

A quick twenty minute jaunt up the hill, Harvey reached the railroad crossing in no time. His heart felt light, even if his stomach felt full of knots. Evelyn wished him well, but could she really know the Farmer would say yes? As he was twisting the toe of his shoe in the dusty ground, wondering if he would “chicken” out, Harvey heard a gentle, familiar voice calling to him. 

Instantly, he felt his shoulders relax. He turned to wave at her, then wondered if he was grinning like an idiot. If he was, she didn’t seem to mind. She walked toward him briskly, smiling brightly herself. Today she wore a soft green blouse and jean skirt, matching jacket, and her famous knee-high brown boots. As she drew close, he could even tell she had applied makeup - a little mascara, eyeshadow, and eyeliner. Perhaps even a light lip gloss. His heart skipped two beats. She always looked good, no matter what she was wearing, but he could tell she made an effort for him. 

“How’s my favorite doctor?” she asked, reaching his side. 

“Good, and you’re right on time,” he cleared his throat, hoping she couldn’t sense his nervousness. 

“Oh for what? What is this surprise?” she inquired, eagerly, rubbing her hands together. 

Without thinking, he reached over and took her hands in his own to warm them. He grimaced, almost immediately regretting it. His palms were sweaty. She would know he was anxious. 

And yet, she looked up at him, surprise registering in her eyes, but her expression was welcoming. “Oh thank you. I should’ve worn gloves.” 

“You can wear mine,” he offered, starting to remove them one at a time. 

“No,” she grinned, shaking her head. “This is better.” Her fingers interlocked with his, and she squeezed gently. 

He straightened and cleared his throat again, knowing with almost certainty that pink had breached his cheeks. “Look here it comes,” he pointed to the sky. 

His anxiety levels skyrocketed as he realized this was the moment as the hot air balloon descended into the open field. However, her excited grip around his fingers and the look of pure joy on her face made him so happy. Harvey wanted her to be happy. 

“Are you surprised?” 

“Oh my! Yes!” she exclaimed, temporarily releasing his hand to clap her own. “But aren’t you afraid of heights, Harvey?” 

YES! He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t exactly be manly. And he would never live it down. His heart pounded wildly. The way she said his name, with kindness and concern, helped him catch his breath. Harvey somehow managed to express himself, sharing about how he wanted this to be special for her as she had never ridden in a hot air balloon before. And he had seen the ad and knew he just had to surprise her. She was always doing things for him, going out of her way, and he wanted to repay her consistent kindness. 

Marcello, their guide, gave detailed instructions about where to stand, how to operate the balloon, what to do in case of emergencies. Harvey had stayed up nearly all night three nights in a row last week researching rental companies with the highest safety ratings. He muttered this, and to his dismay, the Farmer heard, but she just smiled and told him how much she appreciated his thoroughness. 

Harvey offered her a hand as they stepped into the basket. He thought his heart would leap out of his chest. Her grip was reassuring. She didn’t let go until he was securely in the basket and by her side. She flexed her fingers and he realized perhaps he had been gripping too hard. 

“Oh sorry,” he mumbled. 

“No, it’s okay,” she said. “I am happy to be here with you, and I know you’re nervous. To be honest...” she tilted her head to the side. “I am too.” 

“Really?” he hated how his voice squeaked. He cleared his throat and repeated. “Oh really!” 

“Yes, but I’m excited too, like...” she grabbed his hand again and laid it against her chest around her left breast. 

He flushed, realizing this was the closest he had ever been to them. 

“Butterflies!” 

They both said in unison, and then laughed awkwardly. He dropped his hand quickly, feeling it improper to linger, even though her heartbeat felt nice. 

“You ready?” she asked. 

He gulped and nodded. “Yeah, I’m determined not to let my fears hold me back. I want to experience this with you.” 

“Me too,” she nodded. 

As they lifted off the ground, his jaw dropped open and his eyes widened. This was really happening. They had left the safety of earth behind for the unknown expanse of the sky. He couldn’t take it back now. He coughed and rubbed his jaw a bit, hoping she thought he was trembling because of the cold and not fear. 

“I’ll... uh... try... not to get scared,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair, and flushed hard, realizing he said the words aloud.

“Wow... you can see so far into the Valley already!” she exclaimed. 

He had squeezed his eyes shut during take-off and ascent. Nervously, he released his hands from the sides of his head. In the distance, the sky faded from black to blue to a soft purply-pink. 

“I thought I’d be scared too,” she shared. “But then I saw this view and relaxed.” 

Harvey wished that was all it took for him to calm down. He held the sides of his head, feeling like his heart might burst through his temples.  Then he remembered that he forgot the basket of breakfast... 1700 feet below. Could he be any more absent-minded? His fears... (or was it her hand?) had distracted him. He swallowed, thinking about her hand.

As if on cue, she looked up at him.

 “Here,” she reached for his hand once more and squeezed. “I promise I won’t let go.”

He could kiss her. He wanted to. So badly. But he wanted his pulse to slow down first so he wouldn't trip into her mouth. She always knew just what to do or say to make him feel at ease. A kiss wouldn’t be appropriate yet. We’re not even dating really. I need to tell her how I feel if I can bring myself to look at her. 

“Harvey?” she said, her voice sounding worried.

He squeezed his eyes open and looked down, but the terror flooded right back in. Before he could stop himself, he closed the few feet between them and dropped into her arms for a hug. A hug was okay. Right? This is okay? I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. He repeated to himself.  

“You’re more than okay,” she whispered. 

He almost wondered if he actually heard her right. Did he actually say “I’m okay, okay, okay” aloud? “Wha? What? We’re up so high,” he gulped. 

He felt so dumb. A man of a his age unable to handle heights, clinging to the woman he wanted to be his girlfriend like he was a baby. She’s gonna think I’m such a wimp. He felt dismayed. He could handle blood, guts, puke, sweat, and all sorts of bodily fluids, but heights? Why did I think this was a good idea? 

“Harvey?” she lifted her arms to hug him in return. 

Whether intentional or not, she was stroking the back of his coat. 

“I wanted to impress you with this, but look at me!” he exclaimed burying his head in shame on her shoulder. “I’m a trembling coward.” 

“Harvey?” she repeated his name with such tenderness. “You’re not a coward.” 

“I’m not?” he pulled his head back, shock registering in his eyes as he connected with her gaze. 

He saw nothing but admiration there. 

“You’re definitely not. Harvey, I’ve seen you rescue injured people from rock slides and descend into unstable mines to pull out lost hikers. That’s not cowardly. That’s really brave.”

“What? I... uh...” he stammered.

“And you dove into the sea to rescue those little kids who got swept away by the waves during a sudden summer storm. You didn’t stop to think about your own safety. You just took the plunge.” 

“I... I... guess I did. You helped too. And you frequent the mines way more often than I do. You have more than enough bravery for the both of us.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Doctor Harvey. You do a lot of things that most people wouldn’t because you care about your patients and about the safety of the lives of those around you. It’s a really admirable quality about you,” she encouraged sweetly. 

“You do such nice things for everyone too, like helping bring supplies to the Shadow People camps deep in the underground. That’s really brave. It’s part of why I like you so much,” he continued, and bit his lip, trying desperately to stay focused on the sky in front of him rather than the slowly disappearing ground below. “I’m just not sure...” 

“And today you planned this romantic surprise for me even though you are clearly terrified of heights.”

“Romantic?” he squeaked.

She furrowed her brow. “Oh am I misinterpreting?” 

Harvey squeezed her hand. “No,” he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t let go.” 

She leaned into his shoulder, not only returning the hand squeeze, but wrapping her other arm around his from the side. Her hair smelled like jasmine. They stood side by side, and little by little, he felt his pulse slowing. He began to enjoy the peacefulness, the quiet of the air, the coolness of the breeze against his cheeks, the comfort of her presence. 

“I think I can enjoy it now,” he said after a few minutes of silence as he tried to think of what to say next. 

To tell her how he felt. He wasn’t a poet like Elliott or a songwriter like Sebastian and Sam. He didn’t have the adorable chickens she loved like Shane did, but he did enjoy a good fried egg every once in a while. And he definitely didn’t have the physique of the semi-pro athlete like Alex. He wasn’t the most eligible bachelor in Pelican Town. That alone nearly prevented him from planning this surprise for the Farmer today. He needed to stop comparing himself to others. He conquered this fear. He took the step into the basket and managed this far. Maybe he could manage the next step too. 

“Oh... this is incredible,” he laughed nervously. “I think I can even see Mayor Lewis standing in town square.” 

“Where?” she asked, leaning forward a little. 

Without thinking, Harvey yanked her back to his side. He wrapped an arm around her, and snuggled her against his chest protectively. He couldn’t see her face because he was blushing hard. Why did I do that? He opened his mouth to speak when she suddenly shushed him. He frowned, only momentarily, but then saw what captured her attention. A flock of geese flying in a V flapped in unison by their balloon. It was a majestic sight against the backdrop of the rising sun. Oh! He found the courage to speak from his heart. 

“Uh... Farm Girl?” 

“Yes, Doc?” 

He gulped. “Uh... we’ve known each other for quite a while now and uh...” 

It’s now or never, man. Times almost up! 

“I...” he could feel the sweat pouring down the sides of his face, even if it was cold at altitude. 

She gave him the sweetest smile he had ever seen. Her eyes were full of admiration, encouragement, and dare he hope? Love? She leaned forward, removing any semblance of space between them, placing her hands against his chest. He felt a lump in his throat where the words were stuck. 

“I... love... you too,” she whispered, finishing the words for him. 

With two hands firmly placed on her upper arms, he leaned down, closed his eyes, and kissed her for the first time. Her lips were sweet, slightly chapped from sun and wind, but she tasted like... strawberries. His favorite fruit. He wondered if that was intentional. His senses grew hazy as he heard her sigh “finally” and he nearly lost all control. Her hands found their way behind his back and she pressed her torso against his, and his own hands slid further down her arms and around her delicate waist. He could hardly believe this was happening. 

“I’ve... loved you... for so long,” he managed between kisses. “I... never dreamed...” 

“Neither did I,” she said sweetly, reaching up for his neck, pulling him back to her lips eagerly. “I’ve wanted to kiss you... for so long.” 

“I...” he couldn’t think clearly. 

She was showing him new heights. His kisses deepened. He nearly forgot where they were as he continued with fervor. She seemed to enthusiastically return his desire, matching his speed and intensity with her own. Her legs brushed against his, and he felt weak. It had been so long since he felt this way, if ever. His knees threatened to buckle under the fog of passion, but he pulled back first, as the gentleman in him realized he needed to do something first.

“Will you... be... my girlfriend?” Harvey wanted to make it official. 

“Yes, will you be my boyfriend?” she asked, her eyelashes fluttering happily. 

Harvey never expected to feel so touched by hearing those words. “Yes.” 

He sealed his answer with a kiss. “Yes,” he repeated. 

“I love you, Harvey,” she sighed dreamily and leaned her head against his chest once more. “I am so happy right now.”

Harvey felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to swat them away, as the heights still unnerved him and he didn’t want to let go of her. He didn’t want to let go of her ever. He calmed himself with a deep breath or two before replying. After a tender kiss to the top of her head, he said, “Me too.” 

❤️

[borom1r]

boyfriend hours

[glitterhoof]

raging at junimo cart on shane’s bday today

[fingertipsmp3]

Me in the Stardew Valley co-op: Oh I probably shouldn’t just marry Harvey for the fifth time right, I should pick someone else

My mom & my best friend: ???

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Old Friends

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to losing people. He has lost them to death or to madness within this city he is desperately trying to save. With each person, the void within him grows darker and darkeruntil he feels like he is still trapped back in that alley next to cold bodies and a broken heart.

That is why he tries his best to not overthink about them as they were in their final moments. He tries to remember his loved ones for who they were in the better days before tragedy struck.

Once in a while, even those memories he desperately tries to suppress because he can't handle the pain they bring. Bruce is aware it's not healthy.

He's seen plenty of men who are allowed their passions to become violent obsessions- he thinks of Harvey often- but being Batman was the one time he was actually making a difference instead of just allowing more and more tragedies to continue.

As Batman, he is at least putting up a fight.

Maybe that's why, on the night of his two old friends' deaths, Bruce sees them standing under a light post in Old Gotham as he is swinging by dressed as Batman. The very same one he would meet them at back as a teenager, scrambling to sneak out after Alfred would do his rounds.

He remembers his heart beating a mile a minute as he hurried out of his manor's caves, using the forgotten paths to meet the type of youth Alfred warned him against.

They would greet him with crooked smiles, sharp teasing voices, but soft, kind eyes. Despite how the older generations would wrinkle their noises at their appearance, they weren't bad people. Sometimes Bruce thought of them whenever people asked if Crime Alley was ever worth the effort to reform.

He knew they deserved someone to at least try.

Bruce, had meet them when he was ten and angry. They had both come from bad homes- at the time he hadn't realized just how bad- but they had been willing to help the privlage rich boy find his way home. They invited to linger when he neeed quite nights, listen to his woes and encourage his desire to be more.

The three were the same age, but sometimes Bruce would think he was the youngest one there. He grew up fast after his parent's murders, but not as fast as they had done.

They would rather spend their nights sleeping around the center of a small plaza in front of an old movie theater than going to either of their family houses, told him.

They were his best friends, a comfort that someone his age understood pain even if it wasn't the same one he had.

Maybe that is why he hadn't told them to stay when they told him that one had finally saved enough money for a motorbike, which the two were planning to use to run away. Bruce thought that they needed to get away until they were all adults and the system would no longer hold the power of them.

He had only given them a big hug, and well wishes.

Bruce never saw them again.

The light post hadn't been fixed in all those years, so the flickering light fell on the two figures casually leaning against it just as it did the very last night. They stood side by side, chatting lowly, lips cured around cigarettes.

Even the smoke floating around them is the same, and for a second, Bruce wonders if he is looking at a photograph. The same crooked smiles, taunting body language as if daring anyone to try to make them sad, and the same kind but so lonely eyes.

Even the blasted motocycle that stole them from him is propped up next to the pair just as it did the last night he saw them.

Bruce swings to a stop on the rooftop overlooking the two he had outlived. He remembers when he found out. Alfred had just turned on the TV to watch the daily news, and their pictures were flashing across the screen, the words Deadly motorcycle accident under their image.

Bruce had thrown up the meal Alfred had made him. No one else came to their funeral, fitting as it had been the girl's father that orginized their deaths.

All because his daughter would not follow her mother's footsteps and thus he would be out of a worker. Not that anyone belived him, even though Bruce had orginized thier funerals and been one of the four attendees.

Even though she had told them both with a shaking voice that her father wanted her to start wearing the clothes she was in to attract customers.

It was one of the first few cold cases he solved as Batman. He owed them that much.

"B?" Nightwing calls, noticing that his father had stopped following. He comes to stand next to him looking down to where Batman is staring. He sees nothing. "What is it?"

"Just some old friends," He mutters, turning away from Johnny and Kitty. He swears he can almost hear Johnny calling his name but Bruce can't bring himself to look back. If he does he'll fall into the void instead of staring. He aims his grabbling hook and swinings away.

Down below, the pair of ghosts watch the heroes go with wishful smiles.

"He's grown."

"He has." Johnny takes a long puff of his cigarette "I think the idiot can see us. He's had too many close calls if he can spot ghosts without the crazy levels of ectoplasm Amity Park has."

"He better not die. His kids need him." Kitty scoffs, but she leans on Johnny all the same, staring at the city they had tried so desperately to escape in life. They had passed by the street corner her father had controlled the working girls in, and she had burst into tears to see that Bruce had turned it into a women's shelter named after her. "This city needs him."

Johnny, for all his faults, and his flirtatious nature had allways been her rock. That's why when she had been sixteen and scared, she had gone to him to try to run away with.

He had gone with her to their deaths. Sometimes, she wonders if her boys ever blamed her for the end of their stories. She certainly did.

Johnny glances to the sky, spitting a swear. "Come babe, the glowing brat is back. We should try to split before he shoves us back to the Zone."

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Clumsy and frantic

~ Harvey/GN!Reader

~ Romantic

~ 1.1k words

ib: @the-spookington

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“What were you THINKING, Y/N?? I- I told you not to go in there..! It- it’s dangerous and- and I can’t–” Harvey speaks frantically, practically stumbling over his words as he gently holds your face in his hands. His eyes were blown wide underneath his glasses as they rapidly dart across your face. Frowning as you lie in one of his hospital beds.

He wasn’t at all trying to be mean, he was just terrified for your safety. He was always hyper-conscious of other people’s health, but especially you. He was so overwhelmed with a mixture of anxiousness and exhaustion that his words left his mouth before he could grab ahold of them.

Truthfully, you were fine..at least, you felt so anyway. You had collapsed on your way back to your farm from Elliott’s shack on the beach, needing to deliver him something on Leah’s behalf. Only to be found by Linus shortly after and dragged down to the hospital before leaving again. 

It was a little past two am, a few hours after his usual bedtime at ten. Upon seeing you get dragged in, he had no time at all to get properly dressed before his anxiety hit him like a Joja train. His hair was disheveled from its usual combed down state, similar to it’s unkempt state after a rough shift at the end of a long day. Wearing a white shirt with a small front pocket, underneath a long, forest green, wool cardigan. The fibers of the thick fabric frayed and standing up every which way. His legs only covered by his green, pinstripe briefs, yet he had hardly noticed. He was too worried about you to care about his own shame.

“I’m fine, Harvey.. Really..” You try to say, only for Harvey to shake his head quickly. Muttering nervous plans to himself as he steps away from you, his cardigan swaying behind him. His sleep addled brain pushing into overdrive to make sure you’re one hundred-ten percent okay.

His hands scanning over his cabinets before his eyes ever properly read anything. Knowing his place of work like the back of your hand, not his. He pulls out a large variety of items of which you’re unsure on how most of them are supposed to be used.

“What hurts?” Harvey asks, but it comes out as more of a concerned demand. Setting his various equipment down on a metal cart next to your bed. You can’t help but feel at least a little guilty for making him so worried, but at the end of the day, you knew it was probably inevitable. You have a small bruise on your shin after tripping over a shovel earlier and a sore spot on your head from hitting the ground.

Instead of responding, you carefully sit up and take both of his hands in your own. Your thumbs gently caressing over his knuckles as you look into his worried brown eyes. “Deep breath..” you say quietly, taking a few deep breaths yourself as an example. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

The Adam’s apple in Harvey’s throat bobbing as he swallows thickly with a slow nod, following your breathing pattern to calm his rapidly beating heart. His hands slowly tighten around yours as he sighs heavily. A sad smile crossing over his lips before he leans down and places a small kiss onto your forehead. The coarse hairs of his mustache tickling your skin, though you pay it no mind.

“Thank you, honey. I- I’m sorry.. I just– you scare me sometimes..” Harvey murmurs, pulling away to look down at you with the same concern. It’s obvious he’s still looking for any sort of damage he could fix.

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You whisper, pulling his hands to your lips and kissing the back of both, right on the knuckle of his middle fingers. Your eyes still up on his own as you shift on your hospital bed again, slinging your feet over the edge to put your muddy boots down on the clean floor. “I promise- I’m fine. Just a small headache is all”

Harvey nods slowly in acknowledgement, feeling his cheeks turn a rosy pink at your gentle treatment. Leaning down again to place a peck onto your lips before he parts from you once more. Calmer this time, he pulls his cart back over to his cabinets, putting away all of his unnecessary equipment he grabbed in his freakout.

“I’ll have to make sure you didn’t sustain a concussion with your fall, but otherwise, I can provide you an ice pack for any soreness. Anything else feel wrong? Headache, nauseous, confused…” He trails off, just giving examples on things you could be feeling. Finishing up putting away his supplies, he glances back over towards you, tugging his cardigan closed.

You slowly shake your head with a light chuckle. “No- no.. nothing like that.” you deny honestly, interlacing your fingers with one another and setting your hands in your lap. Your eyes practically glued to the doctor.

He heads right back to the side of your bed with a mere penlight in hand. Putting the tips of his middle and index fingers underneath your chin, he lifts your head up to be able to see you entirely. He takes in your features appreciatively for a long moment before snapping himself back into his work.

“Just a small light..” Harvey murmurs in clarification, showing you the penlight before clicking it on. You keep your eyes straight into his own to allow him to check up on you. He slowly brings the light to the edges of your eyes, watching the way your already dilated pupils expand and contract without issue. 

While he doesn’t comment on it, he finds it incredibly adorable. The knowledge that oxytocin and dopamine are making your pupils expand when you see him makes his heart swell with affection. Clicking the penlight off and setting it into the front pocket of his plain, white shirt.

“You’re all good, honey. Do you want an ice pack?” Harvey asks gently, to which you shake your head, prompting more confusion from him. “Just another kiss from you.” you grin cheekily. Harvey feels his cheeks burn as he leans down and places another kiss onto your forehead.

“I feel better already.” you remark sarcastically, though there was a hint of truth in your words. Even without doing any sort of medical procedures, Harvey always manages to make you feel better, with the added trait of getting all giddy like a schoolgirl.

Harvey laughs softly as he carefully helps you up from your hospital bed, treating you as if you’re glass. “Then I suppose you’ll feel even better when we go upstairs.” he teases, knowing good and well he’s just going to bear hug you until the two of you fall asleep. He’d be crazy to send you home tonight.

..................................................................................................

he's so real

(Thank you to Spooki for the idea !!! again !!)

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Bad Faith Part Two

Part One | Masterlist

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+. Minors, kindly get off my lawn.

Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever. Read this over six times but there are probably twenty typos that I'll spot the second I hit post, so. Anyway! Welcome to part two of two!! Thank you for reading 💖

Length: 14.2k

Warnings: Angst; fluff! Huzzah!; Reader’s married surname is Hayward; reader is depressed for swaths of the chapter; unhealthy coping mechanisms; lovers to enemies to allies to lovers; explicit sexual content - vaginal sex, oral sex, hate sex, safe sex

Summary: Your life was four walls, a cruddy bed, rickety furniture. You spent too much time awake when you should’ve been sleeping; too much time reminiscing when you should have been moving on; too much time dwelling on the time that you spent with men in your life that probably wouldn’t spare you another thought. 

“Ross. Mike Ross.” 

“Cut the Bond schtick.” 

“I’m a contender.” 

“Not a chance. Besides, we’ve been over this; you’re Q at best.” 

“Could do a lot worse than Desmond Llewelyn or Ben Whishaw—Hang on, you think you’re Bond?” 

Harvey stopped, gesturing over his body sweepingly before scoffing, “Please.”

“Please is right,” Mike muttered, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You always go to this thing?” 

“...I’ve been once or twice.” In truth, Harvey hadn’t been to the New York City Estate and Properties gala in years. He hadn’t had occasion or reason; the last time he had, he’d made sure that she wouldn’t be there before he’d agreed. Tonight his purpose was manifold—drink good champagne, eat good food, and warn Hayward off of pursuing his lawsuits against his client’s property. 

His client. It wasn’t as simple as all that, but these days, he’d managed to separate her from the work. It was clinical—and clinical was exactly what he needed. 

“Did you see the menu for dinner? I didn’t see a menu.” 

“Get your fill of canapes. I’m talking to Hayward and then we’re going.” 

“What?” Mike pouted. “But I thought we were staying for the ceremony.” 

“You thought wrong. Keep your eyes peeled. Sooner we get this conversation over, the sooner we can get away from this den of cobras.” 

“Never have a mongoose when you need one.” Mike nodded over Harvey’s shoulder. “Found Mrs. Hayward.” 

“Thought she didn’t like you calling her that.” 

“She doesn’t, but around here, it might be better to use that rather than use her maiden name and have someone ask me who the hell I’m talking about…You gonna talk to her?” 

“What for?” 

“So she at least knows what suit to look for when she wants to avoid you.” 

Harvey’s chastising glare was met with a wide, smug grin. 

“Come on,” Mike groaned. “You haven’t spoken to her in weeks.” 

“And have you considered that that may be why things have been going so smoothly?” 

“Fine—I’ll give you another reason you should say hi to her.” 

“You better make it a good one this time.” 

“Jessica is catching on to the fact that you haven’t touched this case with a ten foot pole.” 

Harvey winced slightly as he swallowed the last of his champagne. 

“Fine,” He grudgingly conceded, setting the empty champagne flute on a passing waiter’s tray. “Point me.” 

“She’s at your two o’clock.” 

Harvey turned accordingly, pushed out an annoyed sight—and then felt what breath he had left catch in his throat. 

‘Stunning’ was the first word that came to mind, but in his heart, Harvey knew that it didn’t do her justice. For his lingering, abiding annoyance with her, and with them—with the whole goddamn situation—there were moments when Harvey remembered why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place. 

She didn’t want to be there. Harvey didn’t need to ask to know that—it was common sense. But that didn’t stop her from showing her face, from being impeccably dressed, and maintaining what had to be a meticulously constructed poker face. 

“...You do know what staring isn’t talking, right?” 

Mike’s amusement cut into Harvey’s reverie, and he cleared his throat to refocus himself. 

“Keep an eye out for Hayward,” Harvey ordered before he forced himself forward, slowly weaving through the crowd. 

What the hell was he even going to say to her? Hi wasn’t going to cut it; Come here often? Was almost as stupid. How about something about her dress—Whether or not it was new? That had to be safe, neutral ground— 

Harvey had been so focused on what he planned to say that he hadn’t clocked her turning to face him. He chalked it up to panic radar—her hype-sesitivity given the current situation. He stared. She watched. And then—

“Come here often?” 

Damnit. Stupid, sure, but at least it wasn’t hi. 

-- 

“...Annually, at least.”

Was it your imagination, or was Harvey…Nervous? At the very least, he seemed as confused as you were at the fact that he was talking to you. 

“I’m a little surprised that you made a showing,” He admitted. 

“I could say the same for you. Does Jessica have you prospecting clients to get back in the good graces of the real estate department at the firm?” 

Harvey’s eyes narrowed with playful intrigue,and for a moment, you saw a flash of the man that you used to know—the man who gave you that same look when you slipped your panties off and tucked them into his jacket pocket to find later. 

“What did Mike tell you?” 

You shrugged nonchalantly, glancing around. 

“Nothing impor—...Tant.” You trailed off, falling still and quiet as your eyes landed on Steven. 

Well, he was hard to miss. 

Standing at 6’3, with a manufactured tan, swimmer’s build, full head of gracefully graying hair, and veneers that made his smile look like a neatly arranged row of chiclets gum, Steven Hayward was the very picture of the kind of health that only wealth could buy. With the stress of the last few weeks, you knew that you weren’t looking your absolute best. You’d had so many sleepless nights; you’d swapped out your favorite catered meals in favor of cheaper alternatives, or dollar slices of pizza, or ramen from the bodega down the block from your apartment, pulled gently from beneath the cat that seemed to always be napping on the exact flavor that you wanted. 

You were certain that Steven lost no sleep over the decision to divorce you, or to pull the rug out from beneath you. You expected him to be in tip-top shape—but you saw hints of his rage as he grew closer. 

“Oh—Hell,” You mumbled, tipping your head toward Harvey. “You might wanna clear out.” 

“You kidding? I’ve got a front row seat to the prize fight of the century.” 

“Target acquired.”

You frowned at the sound of Mike’s voice, but you didn’t turn to look at him as you muttered, “Target?” 

“Darling.” The term of affection oozed past Steven’s bleached-white teeth. He stopped just a couple of steps from you—not near enough to touch, but close enough to see the anger sparkling in his dishwater gray eyes. A pulse of vindication swept through your chest at the tense smile, and the tight pull of his jaw. 

“Steven,” You greeted cordially.

“I’m surprised to see you this evening.” 

“If I had a nickel.” 

“Oh, but you do. Putting all of those properties up for sale, I expect you plan on having more than a few nickels.” 

“What can I say? A girl’s gotta get by.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” 

“Have you considered unfreezing our joint account?” 

He chuckled humorlessly. “Anything but that.” 

“Then wire me half.”

“You haven't earned half.” 

It was meant to cut you down and lay you out, but you refused to bow to this man publicly when the other attendees must always hold you in such low regard as it was. 

“I agree,” You offered, and before Steven could preen in his false superiority, you clarified: “I deserve more.” 

Steven bristled, shoulders bunching tight. 

“Perhaps I should just take this evening’s expenses out of that half.” 

You furrowed your brow pointedly, shaking your head. 

“Mmm…I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” 

“Really.” 

“Mm…N—...No—?” 

“Perhaps you’ve been so busy hocking your clothes like a dog snuffling for scraps—” Your face flared with embarrassment as Steven pressed on: “But there was meant to be a reception at my penthouse this evening.” 

My penthouse. If it had only been the two of you in that room, you may have slapped him. How had he been able to detach, to force you from his mind and his heart so quickly? Had he ever loved you? Had any man? 

The heat of Harvey’s body suddenly seemed to flare just behind you. 

“Ah!” You nodded sagely, “It’s all coming back to me.” 

“What could have happened there, I wonder?” 

“You must not have taken care.” 

“Of what?” 

Of me. “Of anything.” 

Steven took you in for another long, cruel moment before he jutted his chin over your shoulder. 

“Friends of yours?” 

Ah yes. Your personal legal peanut gallery. You glanced back to confirm their positioning before raising your hand to gesture: 

“This is Mike Ross.” The name seemed to knock something loose in Steven’s mind as he shook Mike’s hand. 

“Ah, Mr. Ross. I saw your name on some documentation this morning.” 

“You’re about to see it a lot more, Mr. Hayward.” 

“And this is Harvey Specter.” 

Your stomach lurched as Steve’s eyes widened slightly, lips curling into a smile. 

“This is Harvey Specter?” He didn’t bother to hide his amusement as he proffered his hand. ”I didn’t realize I sent you the worst possible port in this storm.” 

“You didn’t,” Harvey insisted, grasping Steven’s hand firmly. “You sent her to the best.” 

“Try not to drop her this time. My arms aren’t open anymore.” 

Your hands tightened where they were clasped around one another. You forced yourself to keep your gaze set stalwartly on Steven, rather than watch the contentious (and no doubt, painful) handshake that the two of them were sharing. 

“Well,” You chirped. “This was a lovely little catch-up.” 

“Yes,” Harvey chimed in, finally extricating his hand from Steven’s and tucking it into his pocket. “We must do it again sometime. Preferably at a deposition.” 

“Maybe in court,” Mike added. You had to fight down a smile at the sudden swell of support, and a wave of warmth that swept through you. Steven’s eyes narrowed just a touch more before he nodded. 

“I do hope you’ll stay for my speech.” 

“Who’d you have write it for you this time?” You asked. 

“I took a crack at writing it myself.” 

If that was true, it was sure to be a mess and a half. You always had been the one to draft his speeches or remarks—or you paired down any drafts sent over by the agency’s PR department. 

“I look forward to it.” 

Steven gave you one last look before he turned away, slapping on his businessman smile as he went, and raising a hand to signal someone like a politician trying to garner votes. 

“...Why didn’t you mention the forgery charges?” Mike asked. 

“It’s too soon to tip our hand...What table are you sitting at?”

“Thirteen,” You sighed. 

“Lucky number,” Mike muttered. 

“Go change our place cards,” Harvey ordered. “Put us on either side of her.” 

You whirled around to face him, stunned at the tight irritation pinching his features. 

“So we are staying for dinner?” Mike grinned. Harvey blinked flatly at him before reiterating: “Go.” 

You watched Mike duck through the crowd, heading for the dining room.

“Were you not going to stay for dinner?” 

“I’ve gotta eat some time. Come on,” Harvey nudged your arm with his, “Buy me a drink.” 

“It’s an open bar.” 

“Good. Then it won’t break the bank.” 

The press of Harvey’s warm hand to your lower back was far more steadying than it should have been, and it managed to dampen the enraged fire in your belly. 

“How’s that good faith deposit doing, anyway?” 

“I threw 98% of it into an HYSA.” 

“Smart move.” 

“I should’ve made moves like it sooner.” 

“Better late than never.” 

“I guess.” 

“...You don’t have to stay for dinner.” 

“We’re going to.” 

“On either side of me as well, I’m flattered. I wasn’t planning on having guard dogs this evening.” 

“As long as you don’t try to keep us on short leashes.” 

“Depends on whether you plan on doing more barking or biting this evening.” 

“I’ve barked enough for now.” 

“Biting?” 

“If you play your cards right, sure.” 

You didn’t bother to hide your open shock at the blatant implication, but when you looked at Harvey, you found him giving you a surprisingly warm smile. 

“Looks like speaking with Steven has put a little pep in your step, Mr. Specter.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” 

“What did?”

Harvey leaned heavily against the bar, focus set elsewhere as he tried to catch the bartender’s eye. 

“You and I both know that this is going to be a long road. I like a good fight.” 

“You don’t say.” 

“It’s important to me that you’re ready for it, too.” 

You nodded a little. “It may also be prudent for us to keep that fight directed at Steven, and not toward one another.” 

Harvey took the two proffered champagne flutes, passing you one and holding it up to cheers: 

“I’ll drink to that.” 

-- 

It wasn’t perfect right away. You and Harvey still butt heads from time to time. On the purchases that the judges ruled that you were able to move forward with, you disagreed over terms—purchase price, contingencies, negotiations. But the knots unpicked sooner and sooner, and you reached resolutions faster. Mike hardly had to intervene anymore. Harvey gave Jessica status updates openly, and you abidingly ignored the smug, self-satisfied smiles that she gave you as you left her office. 

With the service and tenancy contracts, the two apartment building sales that aren’t mired in paperwork still chugged along slowly. You knew that it was protocol, but it was excruciating. You felt ill every time you got an email from Mike or Harvey, expecting correspondence that spelled disaster. Every little bit of good news only brought marginal relief. 

You spent most of your days in your apartment, packaging clothing or jewelry that you’d sold online. You got your packages sent off by five in the evening, and the rest of your night was your own—though it often ended similarly. Your logical mind often gave over to your emotions in the evening, and you allowed yourself to slip into quiet, depressed oblivion. The methods varied—slurping down two packets worth of dollar-pack ramen, and chasing that with a few bottles of beer as one of your favorite shows played in the background; curling up in your bed and staring at the ceiling at 8 PM, and laying wide awake with your mind racing until the sun came up; hunting through property listings online and plotting a comeback that felt like it would never come.

You never had visitors. Aaron was so entrenched at work that you  only got the odd text from him. Your former friends seemed to have further aligned themselves with Steven after his triumphant speech at the gala—during  which he had gone out of his way to omit any mention of you from his historical record. You had avoided seeing much of Jessica outside of the office, certain that she would council you on a good divorce lawyer, or encourage you to begin dating, or level another lecture about the stupidity with which you had bungled your last marriage.

For as well as you knew she meant, you didn’t have the time or patience—and some little part of you, some stupid, naïve part that knew well enough that the war was already lost, was convinced that Steven would change his mind.

It was unlikely, considering the magnitude of his cruelty over the last couple of months, and further exacerbated by your actions before the gala. Steven would not let you back into his arms, his home, or his heart. You didn’t truly want to be let back into his arms, or his heart, but you missed his home. You had taken such care in the planning, the curation, the furnishing, the upkeep. You were proud of it. You had been happy, and comfortable, and so goddamn foolish.

Now you were tired, and lonely, and you spent so much of your day feeling stupid. 

Sometimes, when the wind blew just a little too hard and rattled the flimsy windows, you let the sound of it cover your sobs against the paper-thin walls that connected you to your neighbor’s apartment (you’d learned just how much sound bled through when you first became privy to your neighbor’s light argument, which had then turned into a full-on shouting match. They’d sounded like they were in the same damn room with you, wall be damned).

It was one such sob session that you managed to hear someone knock on your door. You sniffled, shifting on your bed. You were certain that the sound was from next door, or that you’d misheard the rattle of the window. But when you heard the second, insistent round of knocks, the source couldn’t be mistaken. You sniffled, setting your beer aside onto the bedside table crowded with empties and pushing yourself off of the bed. You swiped haphazardly at the tears on your face as you walked over to it, calling out, “Alright, for fuckssake!” When a third round of knocks rapped against the door.

You threw it open, finally, wincing at the invasive flash of the flickering fluorescent hall light. You weren’t sure what was worse: the flickering, harsh strobe, or Harvey’s stunned confusion.

It may have been a tie.

“…What is it?” You mumbled.

“Have you been crying?”

“Little bit.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Getting there.”

“…Get dressed.”

“What?”

“Get dressed,” Harvey insisted, nodding over your shoulder. “We’re going out.”

“Harvey, I’m really not in the mood,” You sniffled.

“We won’t go far.”

“Then why are we going at all?”

Harvey opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a sudden crash! and the swell of yelling voices from next door. His eyes darted toward it before he nodded.

“I’m not listening to that all night.”

“Who the hell says you’re going to be here more than five minutes?”

Your heart stuttered as Harvey’s hands planted firmly on your hips, steering you back into your studio before he nudged the door shut with his foot.

“Get dressed. And hurry up.”

You weren’t sure what it was—his touch, his firm insistence, or your own distaste for your screaming neighbors—but you turned around and began dutifully rifling through one of your remaining trash bags of clothing.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a diner around the corner.”

“A diner? How down heel of you, Mr. Specter.”

“I can appreciate the simple things.”

You snorted, straightening with a pair of jeans and a sweater. “Since when.” You glanced guardedly toward him before you nodded him toward the door. “Turn around.”

--  

“You can afford better than that place, you know.” 

You didn’t answer him. Instead, you shoved a handful of cheese fries in your mouth and leaned back to chew with laborious slowness. You expected Harvey to fill the silence, but he didn’t. He just watched, and waited, and stared at you until you swallowed. You nudged the plate toward him, offering: “Want one?” 

 You avoided his openly chastising gaze, tired of the fact that it was the only look you get from most of the lawyers in your life these days. 

“You have that good faith deposit.” 

“I told you where it went.” 

“The brownstone payment is on the edge of clearing escrow. Look for somewhere else to live.” 

“Not yet.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s not a good idea.” 

“Steven isn’t going to weasel into every potential deal and hold it up.” 

“Forgive me for my skepticism, but I don’t exactly have many friends in this city anymore.” 

“...Are you planning on going somewhere else?” 

You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t crossed your mind. There were cities here you could rebuild your life and your practices, places where you were sure Steven wouldn’t bother to try and strike down your attempts to rebuild your life. 

“Maybe,” You admitted. “I liked Cambridge.” 

Harvey’s lips twitched with a gentle, regretful smile. It was his turn to reach out and swipe a few fries and chow down. 

“Realty up there is pricey,” You added. “Could make a polite killing on student housing.” 

“How does one make a polite killing?” 

“Decent rent and coin-operated laundry. Maybe some paid parking, a few overpriced but conveniently placed vending machines.” 

“Redbull?” 

“I was just thinking about snacks, but you know what, Redbull isn’t a bad idea.” You reached out, picking up a fry and drawing it through the splodge of ketchup remaining at the edge of the plate. “Why did you come over?” 

“I wanted to let you know that the inspections are finished.” 

“On which?” 

“The properties that you didn’t know about.” 

“Anything stand out?” 

“A foundational issue on one of the apartment buildings, but it doesn’t cost enough that it should’ve stopped work.” 

“What about the others?” 

“Nothing that popped as catastrophic.” 

“You have the print-outs?” 

“In my car.” 

“Why are they in there?” 

“I was going to offer to take you for a drink, but you seemed to beat me to it.” 

You scoffed, shifting in your seat. “Don’t get all high and mighty on me, Specter.” 

“You do that often?” 

“What, drink?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you accusing me of having a problem?” 

“I’m asking if you do that often.” 

“Once in a while.” 

“New for you?” 

“Relatively.” 

Harvey eyed you critically for a few moments before he nodded. “Call me the next time you want to have a drink.” 

“So you can talk me out of it?” 

“So you at least don’t do it alone.”

“I’m usually not in a talking mood when it happens.” 

“We don’t have to talk.” 

“Oh, please. As if you don’t love the sound of your own voice.” 

“Call me anyway.” 

You were quiet for a moment before you nodded. “You know, the thought of you dropping by may just be an effective suppressant.” 

Harvey’s smile widened a little. “Do you want to put the other houses on the market?” 

“I want to walk through the apartment buildings myself before I go through them.” 

“What about the ones in the Hamptons and the Cape?” 

“I’ll drive up.” 

“And Gstaad?” 

“A little trickier.” 

“Could bill it.” 

“I doubt it.” 

“You could, under discovery.” 

“This would not be covered under discovery.” 

“How would you know that?” 

“I’m sorry, remind me who used to quiz you for the bar?” 

Harvey scoffed softly, averting his gaze to the diner counter. “Well, this may surprise you, but a few laws have changed since then.” 

“And this may surprise you, but not only am I aware of that, I’ve also been pretty deeply entwined with lawyers since then. So I’m pretty comfortable making that assertion.” 

“And this? You think I’m not billing for this?” 

“Oh, I hope you are. I hope you bill for every second that it took you to walk up the steps to my apartment. I want Jessica to pay for my cheese fries. You know why?” 

“Because it would kill her?”

“It would drive her nuts.” 

“I can’t wait to give her the itemized total.” 

“I await the enraged phone call.” 

-- 

“You don’t have to walk me back up, you know."

“Sure I do. Gotta work off those fries. Besides, I’m billing for this until I officially drop you off.” 

You rolled your eyes, nudging Harvey’s shoulder with yours. Your depressed, tear-ridden, sobbing buzz had worn off over the course of dinner, and you didn’t think that the mood would creep back in once you were alone again. 

“I’ll walk through the apartment buildings tomorrow and see if I can get up to the Cape at some point in the next couple of weeks. The pictures and notes from the inspection look promising. If I dip into the good faith deposit, maybe I could get the Cape Cod house fixed up and sold before the summer.” 

“Or you could keep it as a rental property.” 

“Mm.” “You always liked the Cape in the winter…For some reason.” 

“I kinda like when it’s all grey and gloomy…and quiet.” 

“Be a good base for your Cambridge operation.” 

“Oh, please,” You chuckled. “It’s not even close. The red line doesn’t exactly go all the way to Hyannis.” 

The two of you slowed as you neared your landing, listening closely. 

“...Think the coast is clear?” Harvey murmured. 

“For now, at least.” You fished into your pocket for your keys. “Thanks for dinner.” 

“Sure. Remember what I said.” 

“I will.” 

“Call me if you need anything.” 

Anything. That was new. You nodded, gaze set on your keys as he turned to go back downstairs. 

“...Harvey?” 

“Yeah?” He stopped just a few steps away, and you had to scrounge up your courage to turn and look at him again. 

“I don’t, um…” You swallowed thickly. “I’m gonna wanna talk about it.” You watched Harvey’s face shift with grim understanding. 

“I don’t want to litigate that.” 

“Isn’t that your job?” 

“Not like this.” 

“Not tonight,” You reiterated, “But…Sometime. Please.” 

Harvey’s jaw went tight, but he gave you a short, firm nod before he turned away. You watched him round the corner, and listened until his footsteps faded and the front door opened downstairs. 

--  

The apartment buildings weren’t anything special. Stripped of most of their insulation, and with several of the windows already removed, the wind that pushed through them made the buildings sound like they were breathing. It was eerie, and chilly. You tightened your coat around yourself as you went from floor to floor, eyeing damaged pipes, areas where someone seems to have come in and rooted around for copper wiring, and the billowing plastic that marks off some doors that have been removed. 

The paperwork on this building listed the purchase date as nearly a year ago. 

A year ago, you and Steven had been discussing expanding your current operations. Maybe he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. Maybe he’d bought you the buildings as a present and stopped work when things turned sour…Whenever that had been. 

There had been signs, sure, but Steven always had been temperamental. 

You pushed the thought away as you drew in a deep breath, turning toward the stairs. It wouldn’t do to overthink this just now. If needed, you could panic looking at the Hamptons, or Cape Cod…Or Gstaad, if you ever found a way to get to Gstaad. 

You reached into your pocket as your phone buzzed, drawing it out to find an incoming call. You groaned, stomping your foot petulantly before you raised it to your ear. 

“Jessica, I’m a little busy—” 

“I need you to come into the office.” 

Your fingers tightened around your phone as your palm began to sweat. 

“What happened?” 

“I’d rather discuss this in person.” “Jessica.” 

“Come to the office.” 

She hung up without another word. You swallowed thickly, lowering your phone and watching her call blink and then disappear. If she wasn’t willing to discuss it over the phone, whatever it was had to be very, very bad. 

-- 

“Cheese fries?” 

“Jessica,” You groaned, “Come on, there is no way that that’s why you called me here.” 

“No, it isn’t. But I’d like to remind you that you should remain fighting fit and cheese fries are not the way to do it.” 

“My life has fallen apart and dipped into a moderately humiliating place. I think I’m allowed to have a few cheese fries. Why did you tell me to come in.” 

“I have someone that I would like you to meet.” 

“I’m not going to start dating anyone now.” 

“Well, we can attack that another time. This is for your defense.” 

“Harvey’s on that.” 

“Your divorce.” 

“You know that I can’t afford a defense right now.” 

“I don’t mind getting a start while you get the pieces in place.” 

The man’s voice caught you off-guard, and you turned to find a man leaning in the doorway. Your brow furrowed a touch as you took him in—the long lean of his body, the neatly fitted charcoal suit and sky-blue tie, the curl of his dark hair, the twinkle of his warm chestnut eyes, and his small, intrigued smile. 

“Well that’s very kind of you, whoever the hell you are, but I don’t exactly have anything on the board right now.” 

“The fact that you even have a board is encouraging.” 

“...This metaphor is beginning to exhaust me.” 

“This,” Jessica stepped past you to gesture the man deeper into the room, “Is David Alford.” 

“Alford?” You repeated. “Like the plea?” 

“No relation. What would you know about an Alford plea?” 

“I know of it.” 

“How’s that?” 

“Well, I used to date a lawyer.” 

“Lucky guy.” 

“I don’t think he’d agree with you, as evidenced by the fact that he is no longer my boyfriend.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

You shook his hand lightly, still wary from the ambush. 

“Look, Mr. Alford—” 

“David, please.” 

“—I don’t know what Jessica’s told you about my situation—” 

“She didn’t have to tell me much. Forgive my bluntness, but your name has come up in our circles over the last couple of weeks.” 

“Well, forgive my bluntness, but it’s not my circle anymore.” 

“It could be again.” 

“Are you going to get me a circle back in the divorce?” 

“I’m gonna get you whatever the hell you want in your divorce.” 

You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, unable to help yourself. 

“O-kay,” You lowered your hand. 

“Why don’t I see what we can do about getting some coffee,” Jessica offered. “You two talk.” 

Your brows furrowed as she waved the two of you more deeply inside. Jessica, at least pretending to get coffee? Damn, she really did want the two of you to talk. You gave David a polite smile as you lowered yourself to sit.

“I’m sorry she dragged you in here.” 

“Wasn’t much of a drag. My office is a block away.” 

“Well, then I’m glad you haven’t come far for nothing.” 

“Nothing?” His brows jumped as he sat beside you. “I don’t understand.” 

“I’m not currently looking for a divorce lawyer.” 

“You need one.” 

“That is beyond the point, Mr—” 

“David.” 

“...Mister David,” You bit out pointedly, and fought back a wave of annoyance at his amused smile. “I’m not sure how much Jessica has told you, but there are a lot of things up in the air right now. I’ve socked away some money for my defense, but not enough.” 

“How would you know what’s enough?” 

“...Let’s pretend that I don’t know anything about the law, or the legal quagmire that I’ve gotten myself into. Let’s pretend that all I know about my soon to be ex-husband’s business is that he has a lot more money than I do. The two of us went into our marriage with about 600 bucks and a dream held together with tape and spit. I have watched, and I have helped my husband build up his business for the last eleven years. I have signed contracts, I have signed purchase orders, I have signed mortgages, I have signed deeds. Even if I wasn’t paying attention to what I was signing, I would know that Steven has amassed a lot of cash, a massive legal team, as well as a significant number of holdings—in both our names. He has a lot of power in this equation, and I do not. Whatever comes down the pike, it is going to be a protracted legal battle. If I was optimistic, I would figure that this would take about a year, but I’m not, and I know that it could take a few.”  

David’s dark eyes darted fascinatedly across your face before he offered: “But you do know a lot about Mr. Hayward’s business.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Because it was your business, too.” 

You averted your gaze from him as that washed over you. His acknowledgement made your heart knock hollowly against your ribs, and it took all of your strength not to slouch dejectedly in your chair. 

“...Yes,” You agreed. “It was.” “I understand that you’re discouraged. I would be, too, a lot of women are in your position.” 

“Exactly what position is that, Mister David.” 

His smile flattened with nerves, and he let out a huffed, joyless laugh. 

“I mean, having been served—” 

“A piping-hot plate of out on my ass?” 

“If that’s what you’d like to call it—”

“I call it that because that’s what it is, not because I like it that way.”

“I understand. Look,” David shifted in his seat, twisting to face you a little more. “I think that regardless of when you get your pieces in place, you have a real case here. I think I can get you half.” 

If you had a touch less decorum, you would have jumped out of your seat and screamed—both from the excitement, and the certainty that David Alford was out of his mind. Instead, you blinked twice, and once you managed to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, asked:

“Half?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“There is no way.” 

“You’d be surprised.” 

“I don’t think I would, because I’m almost certain that’s impossible.” 

“Well, it certainly would be before.” 

“What exactly has changed?” 

“You didn’t know me. You do now.” 

You smiled in spite of yourself at the brash, almost fearless way that he said it. As skeptical as you were, you knew that this was exactly what you needed: someone as bold, confident, and fearless as—

“What a cozy little conference this is.” 

You turned back at the sound of Harvey’s voice, smiling a little. “Looking to join the fun?” 

“If I can hazard a guess at Jessica’s matchmaking, Alford is the one joining the fun.” 

“Specter,” David greeted, pushing himself out of his seat. “Haven’t seen you at the squash courts recently.” 

“I’ve been trolling the back nine,” Harvey offered, shaking David’s hand. “Nice to see you, Pleas and thank you.” 

Your brow furrowed at the term. “What?” 

“It’s what some of the guys at the club call me. You know, my name—” 

“Alford pleas and thank you.” You scrubbed your hand across your brow. “God, that’s dumb.” 

“We can’t all be queens of quip.” 

“You poor things,” You shot back scathingly. Harvey shot you a wink before turning back to David. 

“So, David, whaddaya say?” Harvey plied. “You filling the gap?” 

“Yeah, I’d love to fill ‘er in.” 

You didn’t miss his innuendo, nor the speculative, open, sweeping gaze that David leveled at you. Your brows inched toward your hairline, stunned at his brazenness. Surely you hadn’t seen it right—

“Coffee?” 

Your focus was broken at the sound of Jessica’s voice, and the sight of a coffee tray being wheeled in behind her. You let yourself be busied by it. You focused on your coffee, made it the way you liked, and let Jessica and David and Harvey talk about what you could reasonably expect out of the divorce battle. 

Reasonably, as if this entire situation hadn’t been insanely unreasonable. 

But you let yourself sit, and listen, and save your speculation for the train ride home. 

You must’ve read his look wrong, or misunderstood. He didn’t mean it like that. 

And even if he did, finding that look intriguing was incredibly appropriate. But it didn’t matter! Because he didn’t mean it like that. 

…And even if he did, it was probably just something that he tried to bring you on board. But it didn’t matter, because he did not mean it like that. 

…

Though if he did, it really wouldn’t matter, because it would be grounds for him to be disbarred. Nothing was going to happen…Even if you did find him attractive, and found his blunt approach and self-assured nature very, very hot. 

But you were not going to fuck him.

--  

“Don’t fuck him.” 

You had expected the warning to come from Jessica, but to hear it from Harvey of all goddamn people made you gape at him in shock. He just gave you a knowing look before he turned back toward the beer that he was opening. 

Your urge to have a drink that evening hadn’t been strong, but it had been there, and it had made you think of Harvey’s offer from the day before. You hadn’t expected such a quick response to your simple text of ‘Beer?’, but he had turned up a mere half hour later, a fresh six pack in hand. He had shrugged off his jacket, tossed it on to your bed, and walked over to your kitchenette—where he proceeded to say the most heinous thing.

“Excuse me?” You finally managed. 

“You heard me.” 

“I don’t think I did, actually, not properly, because it sounded like you just gave me an order that you had no business giving.” 

“I have plenty of business.” 

“No—” 

“Don’t—” 

“No no no, you do not, not here, and not like that.” 

“I’m just saying,” Harvey turned from the counter, planting his hand on the cruddy formica, “That I know—” 

“Do not say that you know me.” 

His expression darkened, and you watched as he drew in a deep breath. “I know him.” 

“...He has to be good, or Jessica wouldn’t have pulled him on to my case.” 

“He’s a good lawyer, but he’s a scuzzy asshole.” 

“I know the type.” 

“You think I’m a scuzzy asshole?” 

Your gut dropped at the hint of anger seeping into his tone. 

“I meant Steven.” 

Harvey turned away, hand curling into a fist and knocking lightly on the counter. 

“Just…Be careful with him.” 

“You are the last person that has any right to lecture me on the care that I ought to take with the men in my life.”

“I’m not lecturing you—” 

“No, you’re warning me off, like a little kid that’s playing too close to an electric fence.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Fine by me, as long as you don’t fuck David.” “Alright, you know what,” You pushed off of your bed, striding over to your door. “Get out.” 

“We’re not done talking about this.” 

“Yes, we are. Get out.” 

“We’re not done until—” 

“We’re done when I say we’re done!” You began to yank your door open. Harvey was across your small space in a moment, palm flat against the door as he shoved it shut behind you. 

“And what the hell gives you the right to decide that?” 

“Because it’s my turn!” You barked. “I get to decide when we’re done now.” 

“It stopped being your turn when you stormed out of my office.” 

“Then make the damn decision yourself and get the fuck out of my apartment!” 

“If you want to ruin that man’s career and your chances of getting anything that you want out of your divorce, you go right ahead.” 

“I am not going to fuck him, and I’m not going to get him disbarred, you ass.” 

“Good.” 

“And I deeply resent the implication that I’m so sex-starved and desperate that I’m willing to fuck anyone who gives me any goddamn attention.” 

“I did not—” 

“Yes, you did, you did the second you opened your mouth. By rights, if that’s your view of me, I should’ve tried to not only fuck Mike, but you, of all people.” 

“I never implied that you were sex starved, but if you were, you could do a lot worse than Mike—” 

“Oh, really—” 

“And a helluva lot worse than me.” 

“Oh, please! There is no way that I could do worse than you. There are dictators that I’d sooner fall into bed with.” 

“If all you’re cutting out is the bed, I can work with the rest.” 

You could’ve slapped him. He was close enough, and you could just imagine it—the way the flush of red would look spreading across his cheek. 

“What makes you think I’d ever allow you anywhere near me again, Specter?” 

“I’m pretty damn close now.” He shifted closer, stopping as the tips of his shoes brushed your socked feet.

“Against your better judgment.” 

“You want to put me in my place, sweetheart, you go right ahead.” 

“Don't call me that.” 

“Why not.” 

“Don’t you dare call me that.” 

“Give me a good reason not to.” 

“You haven’t earned it back.” 

“Any idea of how I might do that?” 

You bit him. You grasped his tie, tugged him in, and sank your teeth into his lower lip. You expected an argument, but Harvey just groaned, grasping you by the hips and shoving you back against the door. You released his lip, groaning as he swept his tongue into your mouth. Your hand unwound from his tie, breath leaving you in harsh puffs as Harvey’s smearing kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck. You arched up into his touch as his hands slipped under your t-shirt, palming and squeezing whatever skin he could reach. You reached down, hands fumbling with nerves and heat as you worked off his belt. 

Every time your mind began to race, Harvey managed to quiet it, with his teasing tongue, and nipping teeth, and grasping fingers. For all of his big talk about getting David disbarred, Harvey suddenly seemed to not give a damn about his own career—

You whined as Harvey yanked down the cup of your bra, knuckles toying with your pebbling nipple. You palmed his hardening cock through the soft fabric of his trousers, thrilling in his moan, and the press of his hips up against your touch. His fingers snaked beneath the band of your sweatpants, sweeping against your clit before swiping slower. 

“You’re already so goddamn wet,” He growled, easing a finger into you. You pressed into his touch, gritting your teeth as he goaded: “You like pissing me off this much?” 

“Condom?”

“Left pocket.” 

You reached into his pocket, brushing against his cock as you drew out the foil packet. Why wasn’t it tucked somewhere discreet, like his wallet? You pushed the thought away as you ripped the foil packet open with your teeth. Harvey let go of you just long enough to shove his pants down around his thighs, then push your sweatpants. 

“Turn around.” 

You passed him the condom before doing as you were told, leaning heavily against the door. You expected a stretch, but slick heat pressed between your spread thighs. Your mouth dropped open in a moan, eyes squeezing shut as Harvey lapped and laved your slick, heated skin. You reached back, fingers scrabbling to grasp the neat coif of his hair. 

“Harvey, damnit,” You gasped. “Just fuck me already.” 

He groaned in dissent, giving your lips one more sucking kiss before straightening fully. You felt one palm smooth over to your thigh, and saw the other rest against the door as he eased into you. Your lips parted with a gentle whine at the pleasurable throb of his cock stretching you. You planted your hand on the door beside his, steadying yourself as you adjusted.

He didn’t give you long. Harvey drew back before his hips snapped sharply. You pressed your cheek to the door, skin growing clammy between the flimsy particleboard and the hot panting of your breath. The harsh slam of his hips forced your body uncomfortably against the door. You let your eyes slide closed as Harvey’s hands covered yours, drawing them just above your head as he intertwined your fingers. The door rattled in the frame with each thrust. You whimpered as Harvey pressed his face into your neck, felt his hot breath and the rumble of his groans against your skin. 

Your thighs ached, and your heart pounded, and your cunt throbbed, and goddamn it felt so fucking good. 

The swell of your orgasm rose and crested sharply, and you didn’t bother to hide the shuddering of your moan, your grip tightening on Harvey's hands. He followed close behind, hips pounding and juddering before he slowed. The two of you stood still for a few long moments, listening to one another’s panting and coming down. Harvey carefully extricated your hands from yours, drawing away and leaving you half-bare and chilly against the door.

“...I need a beer,” Harvey muttered, voice hoarse.

“You left one on the counter.” 

“You want one?” 

“Yeah.” 

You reach down, tugging up your sweatpants as you gently peel yourself back from the door. 

“It’s probably going to be lukewarm,” Harvey warned.

“I don’t care.” You drew in a shaky breath as you walked back toward your bed. You’d already sworn that you wouldn’t let him into it. You lowered yourself to sit beside it, looking at the door as the swirl of confused thoughts shifted back to the fore. You watched Harvey tie off the condom and drop it into your trash bin. You tracked his movement—from cleaning up, to doing up his pants, to washing his hands. You didn’t bother to hide your open speculation as he opened another beer, then took the two up. You drew your legs together, biting your lip as your slick cunt pulsed.

Harvey lowered himself to sit beside you, holding a beer out and lightly knocking his against yours before you each took a drink. You winced a little at the taste. You should’ve listened to him—the taste of lukewarm beer was not appetizing. You saw Harvey reach up out of the corner of your eye as he loosened his tie. 

“...What was that about getting someone disbarred?” 

“Shuddup.” There was no heat to how he said it, and that was probably why it made you snort a laugh. 

“Harvey?” 

“What.” 

“Did you come over planning to fuck me?” 

“What?” 

“Why was there a condom in your pocket?” 

“I had a date.” 

Your brow furrowed as you took that in. 

“...When?”

“Tonight.” 

“Why aren’t you there?” 

“Because I’m here.” 

Harvey Specter broke a date. Harvey Specter broke a date for you. You leaned back against the bed again, biting the inside of your cheek to quell a wide grin. 

“Don’t read into it,” He added. 

“I’m not reading into anything…Apart from the fact that you seemed pretty sure you were going to get laid.” 

“I was.” 

“Arrange for that, did you?” 

“No need to arrange anything. I’m just good like that.” 

“Well. Can’t argue with that. For the record—” 

“What.” 

“You really have no say over who I do and don’t fuck.” 

“I know.” 

“Good.” 

“...You going to the Hamptons next weekend?” 

“Yeah.” “How are you getting up there?” 

“I was going to take the train.”

“I could give you a ride.” 

“You already have.” You cast Harvey a knowing smile, grin widening as he shot you a sidelong, unimpressed glance. Your smile turned to giggles as Harvey seemed to smile in spite of himself. 

“You really think we could stand to be in the car with one another for more than twenty minutes?” You prodded. 

“If not, we could always pull over and work out our differences.” 

“Pfft. No other weekend plans?” 

“Nope.” 

“Didn’t promise a rain check?” 

“Didn’t specify when it might happen.” 

“Mm. And why would you want to come with me?” 

“Steven could be watching those properties, waiting for you to turn up. You could benefit from having back up.” 

“You make it sound terribly sinister. Have you figured out how to bill Gstaad yet?” 

“I’m working on it.”

“Keep me updated.” 

“Sure.” 

“I don’t mean for, you know—I don’t want a vacation.”

“You’ve earned one.” 

“Whatever, I just don’t like to put something on the market without doing a walk-through myself.” 

“I understand.” 

You leaned back against the bed a little more heavily, gaze wandering toward the door, where a little bit of your makeup was smeared from the press of your cheek. 

“...Harvey?”

“Mm?” 

“Can we talk about it?” 

“The sex or the other thing?” 

“The other thing.” 

“I’ve already had one fight with you today. I don’t think I have the capacity for two...Do you?”

You shook your head. 

“Some other time,” He promised. 

“Sure.” 

-- 

You had seen the paperwork and the inspector’s notes, but to see the house in the Hamptons was a whole other story. The long gravel driveway was lined with a horse fence on the left, and a plain wood fence on the right. You didn’t bother to hide your open, stunned stares as you passed the stables. It was hardly the first time you’d seen a home like it, but it was unfathomable that Steven seemed to have not only put the house in your name, but completely forgotten about it. 

Harvey pulled the car into the neatly manicured lot. 

“Do you want to start in the stables, the house, the pool, the tennis court…?” He shut the car off, waiting for your reply. You shook your head. 

“I only care about the house,” You admitted. 

“So we won’t be walking the expansive lawns? I brought my sneakers.” 

“Do I even want to know how expensive those sneakers are?” 

“They’re worth more than your apartment.” 

“I’m willing to believe that.” You climbed out of the car, eyeing the inspector’s report as you rounded toward the front steps. You turned from the paperwork to take in the house’s appearance more clearly. It was…Ugly. The large, L-shaped, gray-brick building had the modernistic development of the fast-casual apartment buildings in the city, with some of the gauche touches of your penthouse, like the expansive floor-to-ceiling covering nearly the entirety of the bottom of the floor. You could see a balcony on the left side of the house, and another around the other end of the L. 

“...This is different.” 

“It’s criminal,” You muttered. 

“Are you saying that because he forged your signature, or because it’s ugly as sin?” 

“Both. Come on.” 

You walked up to the front door, punching in the code that the realtor had given you to get the door open. 

The foyer was as flat and uninspired as the outside of the house—white marble floors, grey walls, and sterling silver furnishings. You grimaced as you looked around. 

“Are we doing a complete walk through of this millennial grey gulag?”

“If you’re going to hate it, you can wait in the car,” You offered, glancing toward Harvey. “Apparently there are fifteen bedrooms and nine bathrooms, and I don’t know how much of your cute commentary I can deal with today.” 

“Seemed to handle it fine in the car.” Harvey turned left before you could say or do anything else, and you followed him, looking down at the property’s map. 

“This place oughta have one of those fricking mall maps with a star labeled ‘You Are Here’,” You grumbled. 

“Now who’s making cute comments.” 

– 

“My feet hurt,” You groaned, plopping onto a boxy, stiff-cushioned couch. 

“You’d think after the last couple of months of living in that walk-up, you’d be in better shape.”

“You’d think.”

“It’s all those cheese fries.”

“Oh—shut up.” 

“So, what do you think?”

“I think we throw it on the market for 18 million and I forget that it ever existed.”

“Why list it in your name, though?”

You shrugged, looking around. “Maybe it was in both our names when he bought it and the outcome was such a disaster he decided to leave my name on it. I think he designed it.”

“Really?” Harvey’s brows rose as he looked around. 

“Oh, god yeah. Steven can be smart, but he’s never really had any design sense. I wound up taking charge on some of our early flip projects because he just didn’t have the eye for it. He always tried, but I kinda wound up following behind and fixing his messes. If I had to guess, he bought this place to show me that he really could do it, and he just…Can’t.”

“Do you think Cape Cod and Gstaad will be the same?” 

“Doubtful. The report for Cape Cod said that the house was originally built in 1950…what. Four?”

“Something like that.” 

“It looks like he gutted it like he did the apartment buildings and realized how much of a project it would be. Gave up on it.” 

“And Gstaad?” 

“Work out how to expense the trip and we can talk.”

Harvey chuckled, wandering closer. “Should we christen it?”

“Christen what?”

“This house.”

“How?”

Harvey’s brows waggled salaciously, and you laughed, pushing yourself off of the couch. “Oh no, Specter. No way—”

“Why not?”

“You wanna christen every room? You don’t have the stamina for that—And I don’t have the patience.” 

“What about just in here?” He curled his arm around your waist, drawing you closer. “On that stupid couch, over the piano…How about up against the windows?” His voice dropped to a murmur. “There’s no one around for miles.” 

You rolled your eyes despite your amusement. 

“If you said that with the Kubrick stare, I’d think you were going all Jack Torrence on me.”

“Heeeeeeeere’s Harvey.”

“Ugh! God, let’s just go,” You pushed out of Harvey’s arms, heading for the door. “It’s kinda creepy being here, you know. Like Steven’s watching.” 

“The house can’t be haunted, he’s not dead.” 

“He is to me.”

–

“When are you planning on going to Cape Cod?” 

“Mm…Probably next week.”

“Driving up?”

“Taking the train.”

“Again with the train.” 

“I don’t have a car and I’m not going to rent one.”

“Are you staying overnight?”

“No.”

“You’re going to go up and back on the train in one day? That is a long day.”

“I can handle it.” 

“You’d be more comfortable in a car.” 

“Yeah, obviously—Eyes on the road, Specter.” You reached out, poking his cheek as he glanced over at you. He batted your hand away lazily before turning back to the road. 

“Why do you always insist on doing things in the most difficult way possible?”

“Because in most cases, the most difficult choice is also the most cost-effective. Efficiencies can be cruel, Harvey.”

“Cruel is an understatement.” 

“I can handle a day on the train.”

“If you say so.” 

“I do say so, thank you.” 

“Stubborn.” 

“...Do you wanna come up when we get back to my place?”

“What for?” 

You tipped your head to the side, waiting for Harvey to glance over before you teasingly waggled your brows.

“Oh, so now you want to?” 

“I wanted to then! But I couldn’t do it if I felt Steven looming over me. C’mon, Specter,” You reached out, gently teasing your nails along the back of his neck, and grinning as he shifted slightly in his seat. “See if you can get me any more out of breath than walking up six flights of stairs.” 

--  

“Hey, there you are! Jessica needs to—What’s that face for?” Mike’s concern fell away at the sight of Harvey’s self-satisfied smile as he stepped off of the elevator. Harvey gave a dismissive shrug. What the hell was he going to tell Mike? That he’d spent the weekend somewhere other than his place? That he had fallen asleep with her, and remembered how serene it used to be to wake up with her? That they’d hardly left her cruddy apartment—hell, they’d hardly left her bed? 

“Nothing. What were you saying?” 

“Jessica needs to see you.” 

“Right now?” 

No sooner had the words left his mouth did Jessica step out from around the corner, drawing him up short. 

“Yes,” She insisted firmly. “Right now.” 

Harvey had the strange sense of a child being marched to the principal as she led her way to her office. She shut the door behind the two of them, striding past him to her desk. 

“Can this wait?” Harvey hedged. “I’ve got coffee going cold on my desk.” 

“Well then, I’ll make this quick. Did you have a nice time this weekend?"

That should've been his warning. It was a solid leading question, and one that, on any other Monday, he would not have hesitated to answer. His eyes narrowed slightly, before he decided—Yes, she must have known that he drove to the Hamptons. Someone would have told Jessica: Mike was still in the habit of offering updates when he thought they would be helpful.

"Yes," He finally answered.

"Was it a productive trip?"

A second warning. Jessica was a strategist, and Harvey knew that any lawyer worth a damn didn't ask a question that they didn't already know the answer to. Still, he chose a carefully middle-of-the-road answer:

"She was happy to go through the home herself, set a listing price. Hopefully we can get it on the market and on its way as soon as possible.”

Jessica took that in thoughtfully, lips set in a placid smile.

"Were there any outstanding features?"

A third and final warning, but Harvey couldn't help but lean into it:

"Are we talking about the tennis court, the pool, the stables, or the thousand lawns?"

Jessica let out a tepid, flatly amused, "Hm," Before beckoning him closer. "Well if those all caught your eye, it would explain why you missed the cameras."

Harvey froze in his step, blood running cold. There was no way—Cameras? His gaze dropped to the laptop that she turned to face him. The black and white footage was grainy, but clear enough. Harvey watched as he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her into his chest. He could still feel the heat of her body, and the plush slide of her sweater beneath his fingers. He could see the gentle, adoring way that she gazed up at him before she nudged him away, leading the charge out of the house. 

‘It’s kinda creepy being here, you know. Like Steven’s watching.’ He didn’t know how, but she had felt it. 

"Where did that come from."

"I'll give you three guesses."

"Let me explain—"

"Explain what!" Jessica slammed the laptop closed, rounding the desk with self-righteous strides. "Explain what idiotic idea led to you putting on a show?"

"We didn't know that there were cameras."

"How long has this been going on?"

"We only went to see that one house."

Jessica's expression darkened as she shook her head.

"Don't play dumb with me, Harvey," She warned lowly. "How long have you been sleeping with her."

It hit him low in the gut. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak.

"She told you?"

"No, she didn't tell me. She didn't have to. It'll be plain as day to anyone who sees that footage."

"That’s not true, we were just—"

"Just what?"

"I was teasing her! It didn't mean anything."

"If I call and ask her, she'll say the same thing?"

He was certain of it. "Yes."

"Would she swear to it under oath? At a deposition? In court?"

His surety faltered, and his mouth worked wordlessly before he pursed his lips tightly. Jessica shook her head again.

"I am not the only one with access to this. Luckily for you—for both of you—she still has a friend or two on the inside. Aaron Delaney sent this to me before he deleted the original. He works closely with Steven, and has access to a few property accounts. He got an alert on his phone that someone had used the keypad to open the door."

"Has Steven seen it?"

"He isn't sure, but I'm not willing to take that chance. Louis will be taking over the Hayward case, and Mike will be assisting him."

"No, Jessica, that's not happening."

"It is, because I'm telling you that it is. You should be relieved. You never wanted it in the first place."

"Things are different now."

"You're damn right they are! What the hell were you thinking? Both of you?"

"Let me see this case through."

"If you see this through and Hayward does have access to this footage, you could be disbarred. You're going to hand the files over to Louis by the end of the day. He is expecting them. Mike will bring him up to speed and assist him until this mess is cleared up."

Harvey lowered his gaze to the floor as Jessica stepped around him, opening the door and waiting beside it. He curled his hands into fists in his pockets as he strode resignedly from the office.

"And so help you," Jessica warned as he passed, "If I hear that you are holding Louis up in any way."

Harvey only made it a few feet from the office before he pulled his phone out of his pocket, hurriedly dialing her number. It rang once...Twice...Three times...And went to voicemail.

"Damnit," He hissed, lowering the phone to redial. "C'mon, c'mon..." It rang once, "Pick up." Twice...

"Hey you."

"Where are you?"

"What do you mean?" She laughed, "I'm on my way to see Jessica for our check-in."

Fuck.

"How close are you?"

"I just got off of the elevator. Why?"

Harvey whirled around, eyes desperately searching for her through the gaggle of associates, paralegals, and lawyers going about their business.

"She knows."

"What?"

He could hear her frown. Harvey took three steps toward the elevator bay before he saw her come into view—and lock eyes with Jessica. He saw her body go tense, before her shoulders sagged with dejection.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Hell," She sighed before hanging up.

--

"I'm not going to even begin to approach what you may have been thinking—"

"Jessica—"

"—Putting not only your future, Harvey’s future, and the future of this firm in jeopardy."

"I wasn't thinking."

"Clearly."

"We didn't even do anything at the house!"

"That doesn't make the slightest bit of difference."

You slid down in your seat as Jessica paced in front of you, her pace and turn reminiscent of a caged tiger.

"I did you a favor and this is how you repay me?" She finally stilled, nailing you with a cold gaze. You folded further under the crush of her look, so similar to the disbelief that she had leveled you with at her apartment not too long ago.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be." Jessica strode around her desk. "Your case has been reassigned to Louis Litt. Mike will stay on, provided you haven't fucked him, too."

Christ. "I made a mistake, alright? I told you I was sorry, and I meant it," You insisted. "Don't bring Mike into this when he hasn't done anything wrong."

Jessica bristled as she lowered herself into her seat.

"I don't want you associating with Harvey until this is over."

"Oh—Come on."

"If this footage were to come out, Harvey's conduct and ethics will be called into question. He'll be dragged into your divorce proceedings. Is that what you want?"

Your stomach churned uneasily as you considered it. You knew she was right. You shook your head a little, trying desperately to swallow past the lump that was forming in your dry throat.

"Louis and Mike will be in touch."

"Okay." You turned, heading for her office door, and stopping just before you opened it.

"...Is now a bad time to remind you that bringing Harvey onto my case was your idea?"

The chilling glare that she leveled with answered for her: Yes. It was a very bad time to remind her.

--

“You slept with—” 

“Shut the door and keep your voice down,” Harvey warned stonily. Before either of them could move toward his office door, Donna hurried into view, reaching for the handle. 

“You don’t wanna hear this?” Mike’s brows rose. “You of all people?” 

Donna waved him away, offering, “Intercom,” Before she shut the door. Harvey sighed heavily, lowering himself into his chair. 

“What happened?” Mike stepped closer to the desk. “I’m just—You two hate each other.” 

“Thank you for the reminder. I forgot about that.” 

“Harvey, c’mon,” Mike shook his head as he tried (and failed) to keep from smiling. “What happened?” 

“I went over to hang out.” 

“At her apartment?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, and? Instead of hanging out you…Let it all hang out?” 

“Get out of my office.”

“If that was at her apartment, what happened in the Hamptons?�� 

“Nothing happened in the Hamptons. The footage just…We got close, that’s all.” 

“That’s not enough to disbar you.” 

“Because you’re the expert on being disbarred? It’s enough to call my ethics into question…And Jessica’s right, no one needs that headache right now.”  

“So I’m stuck with Louis because you got close? Where’s the Specter spirit? No way are you going to watch this one from the sidelines.” 

On any other case, no, he wouldn’t. Harvey would insist on backseat driving. But on this one…He grimaced, dropping his gaze to his desk. 

“I want regular updates,” He insisted. “That’s all.” 

Mike nodded slowly, conceding: “Okay. But I’ll be ready when you change your mind.” 

-- 

"I'll come over."

He sounded so positive about it—like nothing had happened, or changed. You eyed the remaining trash bags, trying to scrounge up the conviction of an excuse. 

"I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"Why not?"

You know why. You shifted your phone from one hand to the other, tucking it between your shoulder and your ear as you reached out, gripping a bag to make it crinkle loudly.

"I've still got some sorting to do."

"I'll help you."

"Not tonight, Harvey."

"...She's not in charge of us, you know."

You tipped your head back against your wall, closing your eyes. "She's actually very much in charge of you."

"At work."

"I know, but I just..." You winced. "I think she's right. We should lay low for a while. If Steven did see that video before Aaron sent it to Jessica, we're both going to have a whole new mess that we're stepping into."

"I'm ready for it."

"...I don't know if I am."

His silence on the other end made you want to crawl out of your skin. "I can only fight one battle at a time, Harvey—And right now, I'm barely managing the big ones."

"Fine."

You knew that fine coming from him. It wasn't fine. It was I'm shutting down. It was I'm finished with this conversation. It was I'm finished with you.

"Harvey—"

You lowered the phone from your ear as the line cut off, watching the inevitable flashing and darkening of his contact. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. How, after all this time, was Harvey Specter still able to make you cry?

-- 

You became solitary again. Life narrowed. You saw Aaron a time or two, but he was so busy either working or gathering intel that you were hardly able to keep up with him. For as much of a lifeline as she had been, Jessica was still pissed, and you hardly spoke more than you needed to. Mike was a dear, checking in to see how you were doing, but most correspondence led inevitably to discussing closings, proceedings, contracts (and you couldn’t blame him for it; he was only doing his job). 

Louis was…A lot. He was very eager, that was clear, and had been working hard to push the sales of the apartment buildings and the home in the Hamptons through. David and his firm were digging into discovery, and were making headway. 

But you had so little life outside of your divorce. Most of your pieces were sold off, so you hardly had any day-to-day tasks to keep you busy—and everything in New York was so goddamn expensive. It felt like you spent $50 just stepping out your front door. There were days when you simply didn’t. It was cheaper to stay in, and quieter (so long as your neighbors didn’t have a screaming match that day).

Your life was four walls, a cruddy bed, rickety furniture. You spent too much time awake when you should’ve been sleeping; too much time reminiscing when you should have been moving on; too much time dwelling on the time that you spent with men in your life that probably wouldn’t spare you another thought. 

--  

Walking back into the firm was uncomfortable. You’d avoided it for as long as you could, but Mike insisted that there were a few documents that absolutely had to be seen and signed in the office. You’d made it an entire three weeks without so much as getting anywhere near the building. You found yourself avoiding even glancing in the direction of Jessica’s office. It was alright, though—Donna was a smiling, comforting presence the second you stepped off of the elevator. 

“Find the place alright?” She teased. 

“I did, thank you. I’ve only been here a dozen times in the last couple of months.” 

“It’s been a few weeks. We thought you’d forgotten where we were.” 

You smiled tightly. You were certain that she knew everything that had gone on—she was the eyes and ears of the place. 

“You know, it’s the funniest thing,” You drawled sarcastically, “I kept coming to the right building and getting off on the wrong floor.” 

“Happens to the best of us. C’mon.” 

You frowned as she led you away from the usual conference rooms, and even further away from Louis’ office. You couldn’t imagine where the heck she was taking you—and your confusion deepened as she opened the door to a room lined with files. She nodded you inside, a knowing smile on her lips as she warned: 

“Two minutes.” 

Two minutes? Until what?

“Thanks, Donna.” Harvey’s voice made you freeze, and you could do nothing but watch Donna close the door behind herself. You looked down at the floor, your hands wringing as you heard Harvey come closer. You felt him stop close behind you, close enough to feel the heat of him.

“...Are you going to look at me?” He hedged softly. 

“No need. I know what you look like.” 

He sighed softly, stepping around to stand in front of you. You watched as his shoes and pant legs came into view. 

“...And you’re just going to look at my shoes now?” 

“They’re nice shoes. Look expensive.” 

“They are.” 

“Figures.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

You looked at him fully, finally, stunned. You were surprised at how drawn he looked. Sure, his suit was impeccable, and his hair was frustratingly perfect, but you could see tiredness around his eyes. 

“You’re going through hell right now,” Harvey went on, “You don’t need me to pile on to that. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” 

You nodded slowly as you took it all in. “Well. We should never have, um…” You cleared your throat, averting your gaze again. “It was stupid.” 

“You regret it?” 

“It’s not worth risking your career over.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” Harvey closed the space between the two of you, and you had to force yourself not to lean into him the way you wanted—the way you’d missed for weeks. 

“Harvey,” You warned softly. “I can’t keep playing tug of war with you like this. I’m already at the end of my damn rope.” 

“I know.” 

You closed your eyes at the feeling of his palms sliding warmly over your arms, trailing down until he could gently intertwine your fingers. 

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” He promised, “Until we’re on the other side of this, and your business with the firm is closed out.” 

“And then what?” 

“And then I’ll give you hell.” You spluttered a laugh, unable to help it. Harvey chuckled softly, his nose nudging yours gently. 

“I should go,” You warned softly. “Louis will come looking for me.” 

“Donna will keep him at bay.” 

“She said two minutes. It’s been at least three—” You hardly had time to finish your protestation before Harvey kissed you. You swayed into him, lips slipping tenderly against his as he used his grasp to draw you flush against him. You wiggled your hands from his, curling your arms around his shoulders to keep close. You startled at the two knocks on the door, and smiled as Harvey groaned in irritation. 

“I should let you go,” He mumbled. You nodded, murmured,

“Probably.” 

But neither of you rushed to move. 

-- 

“I'm sorry to see you go. I've enjoyed our time together."

You sort of believed it, given the pinched, almost pained look that Louis leveled you across the desk. And, for all of your work with him over the last three months, you'd gained a sort of affinity for the man...Even if he was a little intense in a way that sometimes confused you. You smiled, taking up the final few documents that you would need for your record.

"I appreciate that, and thank you for all of your hard work, Mr. Litt. It's been..." You weighed your words carefully, "Interesting."

"For me, too. Reach out if you need anything else—doc review, mover recommendations, tickets to the ballet. Anything."

"Tickets to the ballet? I'm impressed." You held your hand out, smiling as he stood and pumped it enthusiastically. "Thank you again."

You were hardly four steps out of Louis' office when you found yourself flanked in the hallway.

"We should celebrate," Harvey insisted.

"And how would we do that?"

"Dinner at La Belle Vache."

Your brows rose as you glanced toward Mike.

"’The beautiful cow’?"

"Harvey's idea."

"With a restaurant name like that, it would have to be."

"Hey, that is not fair! I could be posh."

"It wouldn't suit you, Mr. Ross."

"Is that a yes or a no to dinner?" Harvey plied.

"When?"

"You busy tonight?"

"If I told you I had plans, would you believe me?"

"Not for a second."

"Well, I do."

"Cancel 'em."

"It's with my divorce lawyer."

"And here feels like a good stopping point for me." Mike wheeled around, striding back in the direction that he came.

"What the hell does David want with you after hours?" 

"Deposition starts next week. We're drilling testimony."

"As long as that's all he's drilling."

"Watch it, Specter." You reached out, jabbing the down button on the elevator before turning back to Harvey. He pouted contemplatively before offering: "What about this weekend?"

"I think I could swing this weekend. Is dinner on the firm?"

"It's on me."

"Do you think..." You trailed off, glancing toward Jessica's office, "That the powers that be will approve?"

"Honestly?" Harvey lowered his voice,"I don't give a damn. It's been months. Your business here is wrapped. If Jessica wants to give me a good reason why I can't see you, she's welcome to try—but it won't work."

You bit the inside of your cheek to quell a smile as you reached out, gently straightening Harvey's tie.

"Very forceful, Mr. Specter."

"You like it?"

"It's kinda hot." You turned back and stepped onto the elevator as it chimed.

"This weekend," You finally agreed. "Invite Mike—He's earned several dinners."

"He sure has."

The doors began to close, but Harvey darted in, catching them before they could shut all the way. He darted in, pressing a swift, warm kiss to your lips before he drew away again. You grinned as he stepped back, allowing the doors to close.

--

"As long as that's all he's drilling."

The memory of Harvey's teasing warning was on your mind throughout your time with David, and you found yourself fighting back smiles all evening.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?"

David watched you from beneath his lashes as he asked, and where that look had intrigued you once, you knew better. You gave a short, firm nod, and insisted: "I have a date."

Your battle with Steven was far from over. You still had forgery cases pending, and your divorce case had hardly begun. But things felt a little lighter these days.

You had a direction, you had cash flow...But you didn't quite have the plan that you once did. You had told Harvey months ago that you were considering moving to Cambridge. It hadn’t completely ceased to be true, but it wasn’t your only consideration anymore. 

There were moments when you could see the glimmer of a life to carve out for yourself: a smaller real estate firm with a few employees—maybe Aaron, if you could lure him away from Steven; a more comfortable apartment than where you were now, but you could live with where you were for a few more months as you got things in order; and, at the very least, a friendship with Harvey. You didn’t know if what the two of you were doing would be sustainable, and you weren’t sure whether either of you really wanted to know—but after all this time, you thought that maybe the two of you deserved another chance. 

--  

“Impressed?” 

It was a fair question, but you were doing your best to school your expression. You didn’t want Harvey to know outright how much you did like his apartment. It was nothing less than you expected—large (though not quite in the palatial way that your old penthouse was), tastefully decorated, with a gorgeous view. You knew why Harvey had brought you up, of course, but now he was just showing off. 

Dinner had been its own round of grandstanding. You and Mike had watched, bemused, as Harvey had gone out of his way to pronounce all of the dishes in a French accent to the clearly not French (but feigning awe) waiter (who you were sure had to deal with this multiple times a day). Harvey had also taught you and Mike a thing or two about wine—or he had tried to, until Mike seemed no longer able to help himself and corrected Harvey on multiple facts about the Rhône valley in the south of France. 

It had been a far more pleasant evening that you had expected to have, and far more jovial than you’d had in a long time. Mike and Harvey were close; you and Harvey had a history; you and Mike had become friends over the course of your time working with him. When Mike had insisted that you all had to do this again sometime, you believed that he meant it. And when Harvey had invited you both up for a nightcap, Mike had politely declined with a smile and a shake of his head, offering:

“I think I should let you two have some time to do…Whatever it is that you need to do.” 

You hadn’t been entirely sure what he’d meant, or what Harvey had told him. You were almost certain that he would’ve been told why Harvey had been taken off of your case in the first place. And sure, now and again, over dinner, you and Harvey had caught one another’s eye, maybe shared a smile. Maybe he’d rested his hand on your knee a time or two, given it a squeeze—because he could. Because the two of you were close and on even footing for the first time in a while. 

“It’s…” You trailed off, shrugging. “Certainly an apartment.” 

“Oh, please,” Harvey scoffed, taking two wine glasses down from the cabinet. “You’re impressed.” 

“It’s nicer than I thought it would be.” 

“You’re dazzled.” 

“I like the kitchen.” 

“You’re helplessly turned on.” 

“‘Helplessly’ is pushing it.” 

“So you admit that you’re turned on?” 

You rolled your eyes, no longer bothering to fight your smile off. 

“Maybe,” You offered, settling onto the couch and kicking off your shoes. Harvey joined you moments later, passing you a glass of wine and gently clinking his against yours before you each took sips. His gaze remained heavy on yours, and he leaned in for a gentle kiss as soon as you lowered your glass. You hummed, raising a hand and cupping his jaw. You leaned back just a touch, smiling as he crowded closer, dipping his head to brush kisses along your neck as his warm palm gently smoothed up your thigh. 

“...Harvey?” 

“Sure, I can show you the bedroom.” 

You laughed softly, shaking your head a little. “Can we talk about it?” 

He groaned, forehead dropping heavily against your shoulder. “Why do you always insist on ruining a perfectly good time?” 

“Like when?”

“Like when we were in the Hamptons.” 

“You thank your lucky fucking stars that I put a stop to that.” 

“Yeah,” He grumbled, leaning back. You watched him swirl his wine in his glass. 

“Please,” You pleaded softly. 

“...I didn’t write the note.” 

Fuck. 

“Okay.” 

“I wrote a note, but…Not that one.” 

“Who wrote that one?” 

“Scottie.” 

“...Okay.” 

“I couldn’t find the one I’d written, she insisted that I couldn’t leave you with nothing.” 

“Well, she was right.” 

“Yeah.” 

You that that sink in for a moment before you pressed: “Why did you leave?”

“I had doubts.” 

“About me?” 

“About us. You know how my parents were, you know…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You know what I saw.” 

“And you thought I would do that to you?” 

“I was afraid of it.” 

“If you were afraid of it, then you thought I was capable of it.” 

“—And when you got married to Steven so quickly—” 

“Oh—!” The heavy, stunned, indignant laugh was pained as it left you. You pushed off of the couch, standing and walking out of Harvey’s reach. You heard him sigh heavily behind you, chased by the clink of him setting his wine glass down as he muttered, “This is why I didn’t want to talk about this.” 

“Do you know why I got married so quickly?” You whirled around to face him. 

“Because you loved Steven?” 

“I never said that. I thought I loved him a bit, sure, but I was afraid that this,” You waved a finger between the two of you, “Would happen again. I thought he would leave. I was afraid that I would spend my entire life being left. So when Steven showed me the slightest bit of attention, I latched on. We eloped. He wanted a big wedding, but I just,” You waved your hand around, “I couldn’t do that a second time. Any of it. I didn’t get a new dress, neither of our families were there, because I knew that they would all watch me, and him, and they’d be thinking it: Is it going to happen again?” 

“You’re saying your entire life with Steven was my fault?” 

“I’m saying that I made a choice, and that what happened with you was a factor—Not a fault, a factor. And why!” You let out another harsh hysterical laugh as tears welled in your eyes, “Why didn’t you just talk to me? What did I do then to make you think that you couldn’t talk to me?”

“I wasn’t ready!” 

“And we could have talked about that! What made you think that I wouldn’t have been alright with moving the wedding back, or going to counseling with you, or whatever you would have needed to get us there?”

“You wanted to get married.”

“I wanted you, Harvey! I would have waited, I—” You turned away, sniffling heavily as tears slipped from your eyes. “Fuck. Ugh.” You raised your glass, draining it before striding over the counter, desperate to put some more distance between the two of you. You set the glass down and yanked a paper towel off of the roll, swiping at your under eyes to clear away any running mascara. You blew your nose as well before balling up the tissue and lobbing it toward the trash can. You heard Harvey’s approaching footsteps, and you pulled in a deep, stuttering breath as he rested his hands on your shoulders. 

“...There’s no way for me to take back or change what I did.” 

“Would you if you could?” 

“Yes.”

“...Okay.” 

“Do you believe me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the back of your head as his hands soothingly rubbed over your arms. You sniffled again, swiping away a stray tear before resting your hands on the counter. 

“You changed the way that I love, Harvey,” You shook your head. “For better or worse, whether you meant to or not, you changed it.” You glanced back toward him. “I can’t get those bits of myself back. You took them from me.” 

“I know. I took them from both of us.” 

You nodded, slowly letting yourself lean back against him. His arms curled around your middle, and you heard a soft, almost relieved groan leave him. You let your eyes close as he pressed a kiss to your temple. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments, allowing yourselves to settle. 

“...Stay tonight?” He murmured after a few moments. You nodded, smiling as his hold tightened on you again, as if wary that you would change your mind. 

-- 

He had a few more smile lines. His hair still mussed the same; he still made little mumbling noises as he slowly rose from sleep to consciousness. He was still a furnace to sleep beside, and he still held you through the night. It was almost a relief that none of that had changed. 

Waking up in his arms made you feel like it had when you were younger: safe, and loved, and wanted. You hadn't appreciated it when you'd had it just a few months ago, but you were desperate to catch on to every little bit of him now.

You were never going to be able to turn back the hands of time—to go back and warn him, or yourself, or someone that your first wedding day would be a disaster, that it would set you off on a path that you could never have anticipated for yourself. Discussing what had happened hadn't truly healed any of your old wounds.

But as the sun began to creep over the Manhattan skyline and seep into Harvey’s bedroom, you felt closer to peace than you had in a long, long time. 

Harvey snuffled, nuzzling your shoulder as his fingers curled in your borrowed nightshirt. 

“You awake?” He mumbled, the same low, gravely murmur that you had once loved, and missed. 

“Mmmhm.” 

“Want coffee?” 

“Yes.” 

He yawned widely, pressing his face into your shoulder and warming your skin through the fabric. “Bagels?” 

“Sure.” 

“‘Kay.” 

Neither of you made a move to get either. Instead, you combed your fingers through his hair, closed your eyes, and listened to the steady rise and fall of his breathing as you both fell back asleep. 

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @gina239 ; @technicallykawaiisoul ; @coldheart-lonelysoul ; @kathrinemelissa ; @jacxx2 ; @pillowjj ; @chanaaaannel ; @avampirescholar ; @kmc1989 ; @mythical-goth ;

[brucewaynehater101]

I do have a few more examples! Tim offers Mister Freeze unlimited funding to help his wife on the condition that he sometimes helps with other projects. He hires Harvey Dent to be his personal lawyer (not that he needs one). Blood Sport, Death Stroke, Dead Shot, and many other mercenaries are hired to "break into" Drake Industries to hunt down and "kill" Tim or "steal" important information in order to test his companies defenses and tell him exactly how they got in so that he can patch any holes. He hires one to break in every 2 to 3 months but never the same person in a year. Like if he uses Deathstroke in August he can't use him again until January.

Tim also doesn't want to force these rouges to move far away from their homes so he opens up branches in Metropolis, Central City, Star City, and others too. Anywhere he opens an office for Drake Industries, crime rate always plummets thanks to him hiring all the Henchmen and giving them stable jobs that pay at minimum double the minimum wage of the area plus really good health insurance and other benefits. They even have dental and 4 months paid maternity *and* paternity leave! The desk work may not be as exciting as their previous jobs but boy is it safer.

Also I would like to make one note. DI is one of the few major cooperations in America that openly does *not* donate to the Jusitce Leauge. Tim is still salty about Bruce Quest and during an interview where someone asked how much he donates to them, Tim said, "oh I don't. At all. It's not that I don't believe in them, I do, uts just. There's already so many places funding them they don't need me. But you know who does? The younger generation of heroes. Did you know that The Teen Titans only get funding through the Justice Leauge? I don't think that's very fair so I donate to them. I donate to Young Justice. I track down and do research on dozens of younger heroes who aren't part of any organization and check to make sure they're doing good in their community and then I directly donate to them. Superheroing is expensive, just look how much the JL spends on it! Could you imagine? Being fresh out of high-school, working a minimum wage job, and having to make your own suit and gadgets while also paying for *college*? The stories I have heard from some of them! This one poor kid, he told me that he had to use this roll of regular fabric he found in a dumpster because buying a roll was to expensive! Of course I sent him to a super hero tailor on my own dime, after all he just wanted to help his community saving kittens from trees and stopping local mugging. But still, small heroes like him are important. After all, didn't Superman start by saving cats from trees? Didn't Green Arrow start by stopping a mugging? Didn't Batman himself start by stopping a purse snatching? You never know who the next big hero will be in 5 or ten years."

I might have gotten a bit to into that rant. Listen. Listen this is a subject close to my heart. Small Time Heroes Are Important!

My gods, I love this so so much. You combined two tropes I love: Tim using Business to fund social programs/decrease crime/hire ex felons and criminals, and Tim turning his back on the JL after the BruceQuest.

Added with Tim funding small time heroes???? This is phenomenal

[artists-ally]

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The infamous closer at Pearson-Specter-Litt. 

____

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

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

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

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

“It’s Harvey, isn’t it?”

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

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

“A total jackass?” She finished for me. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, what do you say?”

“Thanks, Donna,” I smiled sweetly. 

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

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

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

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

I hate the corporate world. 

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

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

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

“How can it be gone?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nodded.

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

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

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

Welp… here goes my career. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.” Was all he gave me.

____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

He didn’t have to tell me twice. 

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t think so?”

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

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

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know how to do that.”

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have my word.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think that everyone does tha-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know, a jellyfish?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Claudia-”

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

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

“Mr. Specter I really should-”

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

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

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

“Do you really want to leave?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir, what are you-”

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

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

“How does it feel?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Open.”

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

“Good girl, Claudia.”

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

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

“Realize…what?”

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

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

“I wouldn’t say that I was confi-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harvey?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[leighsartworks216]

On The Count Of Three

Harvey x FTM!Farmer

I've been thinking about this idea for days, but I've only just been able to write it sort of like how I want it. I'm not 100% happy with the ending but trying to expand it out made it worse so I chose the less worse option (in my mind). Slightly inspired by my fear of needles and my third-degree yearns of wanting Harvey to take care of me

Warnings: needles, injections, mention of fear of heights, anxiety, references to Harvey's ten heart event, slight hurt/comfort, semi-implied transphobia (not addressed)

Word Count: 1,002

Masterlist

AO3

Harvey washed his hands in the bathroom sink. He wasn’t even thinking about it, so second nature to nearly everything he did at work. Instead, he thought mostly about what he needed to grab from the medicine cabinet.

A bandaid, disinfectant, a fresh needle, and the bottle of testosterone. He repeated them in his head like a mantra as he dried his hands off and began grabbing each item in turn. With everything secured in his arms, he leaves the bathroom behind and heads into the bedroom. 

The farmer fidgeted anxiously as they sat on the edge of the bed, watching him intensely as he set everything aside and ripped open the disinfecting wipe.

Harvey couldn’t help but feel honored to be trusted with this. Yes, he was a doctor, but it was nearly a year after their arrival in Pelican Town that they told him about their plans for medically transitioning. They’d admitted to him later that they were afraid of the people in this small town rejecting them or worse. They were so alone in Zuzu City for so long, they’d hate to feel that way again here.

This had become a sort of ritual after that. When the prescription first came in, they’d held it in their hands, staring down at it as they sat on the exam table, like it was an alien baby they were holding. He asked if they needed help the first time, to know what to do. But it quickly became abundantly clear when he tried handing the prepped needle off to them that they couldn’t do it on their own.

As he knelt down on the rug by the bed, he looked up at them. They were looking away now, staring hard at the wall. Their hands shook in their lap, fingers tapping uneven patterns against their thighs. The cold shock of the disinfectant startled them, but they just closed their eyes and tapped another rapid pattern against their skin. He set the used wipe aside and removed the guard off the needle, drawing the proper amount of the hormone into the reservoir before setting the bottle aside.

Each sound made them more visibly anxious. He could hear them swallow thickly, hear the slight tremor in their breaths. If he was any closer, he’d hear the rapid beating of their heart against their ribcage.

He took one of their hands in his, and kissed the slightly sweaty palm with deep fondness. He thought this was one of the bravest things he’d ever seen them do. Nevermind going down into the mines, every single week they faced their fear, trusting in him to get them through it. And every single week, he did, and every week after they were ready to close their eyes, grit their teeth, and get through it again.

“It’s alright, dear, I’ve got you. Take some deep breaths now, alright?”

The first inhale was shaky. The exhale was squeezed out like somebody trying to get air out of a bag before they closed it. He waited patiently as they repeated the doctor’s orders a few more times, each subsequent one becoming smoother and easier. He hummed his approval, encouraging them to keep going.

He kissed their palm again reassuringly before setting their hand aside with a comforting squeeze. When he let go, their next exhale was choppy and nervous. There was nothing for it; the sooner he got this over with, the sooner they’d actually be able to calm down.

“Okay, ready?”

They nodded, eyes shut impossibly tight as they prepared for the sting.

“On the count of three. One… two… three.”

He slid the needle into the appropriate depth, drew some blood into the needle, and pressed down on the plunger to inject the dose. Their hands clenched into tight fists, clutching at nothing or the blanket underneath them. They remained that way for a moment after he removed the needle and clicked the guard back in place and set it safely aside. He peeled open the bandaid, removed the two pieces protecting the sticky parts, and expertly planted it over the injection site.

“All done! How are you feeling?” He took both their hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over their knuckles to smooth out their fists. They sighed deeply as they finally opened their eyes to look down at him, blinking spots from their vision.

“Exhausted,” they admitted. Harvey was no stranger to how much energy being scared ripped out of a person. He kissed the inside of their wrist. “Thank you for helping me with this. I know it’s kind of stupid.”

He squeezed their hands. “Hey, it’s not stupid. I think being scared of needles is a very justified fear.”

They huffed. “I know, it’s just… We’ve been doing this every week for how long now? I shouldn’t be so scared, but even just thinking about it…” They shuddered. “Which is dumb because it just happened, and it barely hurt at all, so why am I still so freaked out by it?”

He stood up from the ground, letting their hands go to brush some hair from their face, cupping their cheek sweetly. “You remember our first date?”

A bubbly laugh erupted from them. They didn’t expect this to be brought up again after so long. “Yeah, I remember.”

He smiled. “I was terrified of going up in that hot air balloon. But I still did, because…” He chuckles bashfully. “Well, because you were so brave, I felt like I could do it anyway, if you were there. But I’m still terrified of heights!”

“So, you’d go up in another balloon if I was there?”

“In a heartbeat. I’ll always be scared, but if you’re there, I can be a little brave. Or at least try to be.”

They grinned, leaning into his hand. “I love you.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to their lips, mustache tickling their upper lip in an oh so familiar and pleasant way. “And I love you.”

[chelseachilly]

i watched it begin again

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: ever since your last relationship ended badly, you've lost all hope in love. until your best friend convinces you to go on a date with her bf's friend ben warnings: none word count: 2.7k

author's note: this is just a short little something inspired by one of my favourite songs, begin again by taylor swift ❤️ and bc the thought of a first date with ben is just so perfect to me 😌

-

As you sit in an Uber on your way to Marylebone, fidgeting nervously with the hem of your dress, you can’t help but wonder how you got here.

It took a lot of convincing - to be precise, three glasses of white wine, some chocolates, and the agreement to watch your favourite movie on Netflix that night - for your best friend to convince you to go on this date last weekend.

Mia, one of your closest friends since you were kids, knows better than anyone how reluctant you’ve been to return to dating life ever since your last relationship ended catastrophically. Your last boyfriend, Jack, who had also been your first serious one, had completely broken your heart eight months ago. 

After two years together, just when you were beginning to think about taking the next step and move in with him, you caught him cheating on you with in his flat with a coworker he had sworn was just a friend. You were so completely devastated by this betrayal and the sudden end of your relationship that you haven’t so much as downloaded a dating app or talked to a guy at a bar since. 

Your friends have been loving and supportive of your decision to stay single for a while, but ever since Mia started seeing her boyfriend Harvey a couple months ago, she’s been pestering you to meet one of his friends. She’s told you several times that his mate Ben is perfect for you, but based on the little you know, you’re not sure you agree.

She showed you his Instagram a while back and, although there’s no questioning that he’s quite attractive, you don’t know if a fancy, famous footballer is the right choice to ease back into dating. You doubted that you would be his type, either, but when Mia insisted that Ben was interested and free this Thursday, you finally gave in. 

You figured the worst that could happen is you realize you’re not ready to date again or that there isn’t a connection between you and you wasted one evening having dinner with a stranger. 

But now that you’re sitting in this car, about to go on an actual date for the first time in forever, you feel like you might explode with nerves. You don’t remember how to flirt, how to tell someone about yourself, how to act cool and composed. You could be totally awkward and weird and he might never want to see you again. 

Or, even worse, you could fall madly in love, only for him to end up breaking your heart. That’s the far more terrifying possibility.

You have half a mind to ask the driver to turn around and take you back home, but you force yourself not to. Mia would be upset with you, and you figure you owe it to her not to stand up Harvey’s friend for no real reason.

Your hands are shaking slightly as you get out of the car and enter the restaurant. You consider waiting outside for him, as you’re a couple minutes early and he probably isn’t here yet, but it’s freezing out right now, so you decide to head in. 

“Hi, do you have a reservation?” the hostess asks you, and you nod a bit shyly. 

“Yes, it should be under Chilwell? But I’m early, so I can just wait-"

“Right this way,” she says with a smile, motioning for you to follow her. 

It’s a small restaurant, with no more than ten tables, most of them occupied. There are candles burning and soft music is playing, the atmosphere somehow romantic without being cheesy. 

You feel slightly more at ease knowing it’s not some insanely posh place like you were half-expecting it to be, and then you lock eyes with your date. 

Your stomach erupts with butterflies - something you also weren’t quite expecting - when you see him, immediately realizing that the photos Mia showed you did not do him justice. 

He’s gorgeous, with bright blue eyes that light up when he sees you and wavy dark hair that you could spend hours running your fingers through. He quickly stands up as you approach the table, smoothing out any wrinkles in the dark blue trousers he’s wearing, paired with a black knit jumper and Nikes.

You can hear Mia’s words echoing in your ears: “Harv swears he has a heart of gold. He had a bad breakup last year too, so you’re in the same boat. Just give him a chance and see how it goes!”

“Y/N!” Ben smiles, greeting you with a quick hug. “It’s good to finally meet you, Mia’s talked a lot about you.” 

Oh, god, you think to yourself, hoping your best friend hasn’t overhyped you too much. 

“Good to meet you too,” you say, returning his smile. “And that sounds like Mia, she talks a lot about everything.” 

“That’s probably why she and Harv work so well,” he quips.

Ben is still standing quite close to you, and it takes you a moment to realize he’s pulled out your chair for you to sit down. You’re not sure if a guy has ever done that for you before. 

You oblige, taking the seat and letting him push you in before sitting across from you. Something your mum told you when you were a kid about how a gentleman behaves comes to mind, but you try not to let your mind wander too much. It’s been about twenty seconds, there’s plenty of time for him to prove right your current theory that all men are trash. 

“Thanks for choosing the restaurant,” you say to fill the silence, glancing around you. “It’s really nice.”

“Yeah, I come here a lot,” Ben replies. “It’s low key, which I kinda like. Mostly old people and stuff. I was actually just starting to worry you’d think it was a bit lame for a first date.”

“I don’t,” you say quickly. “I’m good with low key.”

Ben smiles at you, and you’re not sure if it’s him or the candlelight making your face feel warmer all of a sudden. 

“You look gorgeous, by the way,” he says a bit shyly. “I should’ve said that sooner.”

“Oh, thanks.” You’re certain now that you’re blushing. “So do you. I mean, you look very - not that you’re not gorgeous, men can totally be-"

You meet Ben’s gaze, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you find no judgement in his eyes - he’s smiling at you even more now, the kind of smile that makes you feel completely at ease.

You just met this man, and yet you feel completely safe with him. 

“Sorry, this is my first date in nearly three years, I’m a bit rusty,” you admit. 

“No, you’re good,” Ben says gently. “Mia mentioned you recently got out of a long-term relationship.”

“Not that recently anymore, but…yeah,” you say. “It was a bit of a shit show. We were together two years and then one day I walked in on him sleeping with another girl. Not exactly an amicable breakup.”

Ben’s face falls. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Y/N. What a piece of shit.”

“Yeah, he really was,” you say, nodding your head. “Obviously, it was for the best, though. Better I find out he’s a lying cheater now than ten years down the line, right?”

“Definitely,” Ben agrees, “you want something to drink?”

After a couple glasses of wine and the most amazing pasta dish you’ve ever had in your life, you feel like you’ve known the person sitting across from you for years, rather than hours. 

You talk about everything - your job, his football career, your families, your friends. You talk about your ex a bit more, and then he opens up about his. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you’re sharing too much with him, but a far stronger one telling you that this is right. It’s a feeling you’ve never had before, not with your ex and not on any other first date you had before him.

You don’t even realize how much time has passed until you look around and realize you’re the only ones left in the restaurant.

“They’re probably closing soon,” you comment, though you don’t really want to leave. 

“Twenty minutes ago, actually,” Ben says. You raise an eyebrow, and he scratches the back of his head and smiles. “Uh, I may have offered the owner a hundred quid to stay open a bit longer while you were in the loo. I’ve been having a really nice time talking to you.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, your eyes nearly beginning to water at the gesture. 

“I’ve been having a really nice time with you, too.”

After you finish your drinks and Ben pays the cheque, not even hearing out your offer to split it, you head back out into the chilly London night together. 

“I’m just gonna call an Uber,” you say, pulling out your phone with one hand and rubbing your shoulders for warmth with the other. 

“I’m parked right around the corner, I’d be happy to drive you?” Ben offers. 

You remember that he declined a second glass of wine earlier, stating that he was driving - a stark contrast from your ex, who would frequently call you to pick him and his car up from the pub after he got too pissed to drive home. 

“You really don’t have to, it’s pretty late,” you protest.

“It’s no big deal,” Ben assures you. He then shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders without hesitation, putting an end to your clearly obvious shivering. “So you don’t freeze on the way to the car.”

You smile gratefully, unable to articulate with words how much this simple gesture means to you. 

As you walk side by side, you can’t help but admire the Christmas lights already strung up on the shops and houses you pass. 

“I love this time of year,” you say. “It’s so magical.”

“Same here,” Ben smiles. “Christmas in London is the best. Do you have any plans for the holidays this year?” 

Your brain briefly flits back to the ski trip you and your ex went on the past two years right before Christmas. A week ago, you were dreading that time coming, knowing you would end up being nostalgic for those trips and start missing him again, but somehow, that feeling seems to have vanished. 

“Just going home to see my parents,” you say. “You?”

“Yeah, we always have games around Christmas, so my family usually comes to mine and we do a big dinner on Christmas Day, then they come see me play on Boxing Day,” Ben tells you. “After the game, we always go get hot chocolate and go ice skating. My little sister suggested it when she was a bit younger, and it sort of stuck.”

The combination of Ben’s coat over your shoulders and the way your heart is melting at his sweet words makes your entire body feel warmer. 

“That’s a great tradition,” you say, looking over at him with a smile and gently bumping your arm against his. 

You arrive at Ben’s car and he opens the door for you to get in, his hand brushing against yours as you do so, and the brief touch is enough to drive you crazy. 

The drive to your flat isn’t too long, and conversation continues to flow easily between the pair of you. You can’t help but steal a glance at Ben from time to time as he drives, admiring the way the streetlights reflect in his beautiful ocean blue eyes. 

There’s a bit of a pang in your chest when he pulls up in front of your building and you know this is the end of the most incredible night you’ve had in ages. 

“Walk you to your door?” Ben offers, and you nod without hesitation.

He once again comes around to open your door for you - you know you have a low bar right now, but you’re seriously in awe of what a gentleman he’s being. 

Once you’ve arrived at the door to your flat, you turn around to face Ben, and he has a bit of an inquisitive expression on his face.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” he says softly. 

“So did I,” you say sincerely. “Thanks for dinner, and the lift home, and…just, erm, for being so wonderful.”

His cheeks now flushed with red, Ben takes a small step closer to you, and your gaze automatically falls to his lips. You want him to kiss you, you’re sure of it, but some part of you is still completely terrified of where this might go if you do. 

“Can I…” Ben murmurs, tenderly reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and once again, you don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.”

He slowly leans in until his lips are pressed to yours, one hand gently cupping your face and the other resting on your waist. You hold his hand that rests on your cheek as you kiss him back, your lips slowly moving together in perfect harmony.

It’s fun and new and exciting to kiss him, but mostly, just like everything has this evening, it feels right.

When you pull away, it takes a moment for your eyes to remember how to open. When you do, you’re met with an awestruck grin on Ben’s face that you’re pretty sure you’re mirroring yourself. 

“Wow,” you breathe. “Been a long time since I’ve done that.”

You’re not sure if you mean kissing or falling for someone - perhaps both. 

“Me too,” Ben whispers, kissing you once more. “I think we’re pretty good at it.”

You nod, grasping at his shirt as you find yourself swaying slightly, intoxicated by his kisses and his gaze. 

“Maybe we should do it again to be sure,” you joke.

He wastes no time leaning down to kiss you again, and again, and again until you’ve lost all track of time. 

Eventually, he pulls away and takes a small step back, and you miss his lips already.

“I should probably get going,” he says, though you can tell he doesn’t really want to. You have half a mind to invite him inside, but you know it’s better to take things slow, especially when there’s a chance this could really be something. “Can I - erm, would you want to-“

“Yes, please,” you cut him off with a grin. “Text me when you get home?”

You’re already eagerly anticipating a second date - the sooner the better, honestly, despite your wishes to take it slow. 

“Definitely,” Ben says, nodding eagerly. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

He begins to turn to walk away, and you watch him get halfway to his car before fumbling for your keys and entering your flat with a giddy smile on your face. 

You realize you haven’t checked your messages all night, so you quickly return Mia’s texts. 

You flip down on your couch, still smiling like a fool, and it’s only then that you realize you’re still wearing Ben’s jacket. After panicking for a second, you quickly reach for your phone again.

You nearly throw your phone with excitement, counting down the seconds until you get to see him again and thanking your lucky stars that you agreed to go out tonight.

You thought that love died that terrible day eight months ago, that your chance at happiness was over, but now you can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason things ended the way they did. 

Maybe to make way for something better to begin. 

-

please let me know what you thought, i hope you liked this story! i have some more in the works, including a super fluffy christmas one-shot 💓

[valley-of-headcanons]

hello hello!!!! I just have to say, your writing is so lovely and I’ve really enjoyed going through what you’ve written for everyone <333 !!!

how about some hcs about how Harvey would handle a pretty bold farmer? not a downright flirty farmer who winks at him and teases him every second of every day with suggestive remarks or anything— rather they don’t do anything to hide how fond they are of Harvey! Such as, very earnestly telling him how charming they find him, how they deeply admire his kind heart, even offhandedly mentioning how he has really nice eyes, etc.! basically, just a really, really blunt farmer, lol.,

and y’know. . . maybe farmer transforms into a more traditionally flirty person after getting together/marriage. . . so, does poor Harvey wind up short-circuiting a bit? if that’s not too bothersome!

thank you :)!!!!

harvey with a bold!farmer || headcanons

what happens when the shyest doctor around meets a bold farmer? will he stay calm or will he unravel?

warnings: mention of a suggestive comment but not described, so basically nothing :)

requested by: anon! hi, thank you so much for the request! you are so incredibly sweet, thanks for all the compliments! i hope that i wrote something good for you, and i heavily encourage you to request more! you're such a sweetheart :) hope you enjoy! <3

• Harvey is known as being the calm and collected doctor around town. He's put together, he's smart, and he knows how to have relatively simple conversations with people. He's never thought of himself as anything super notable, and he's not used to compliments that aren't profession related. But when a certain farmer came to town with an incredibly bold attitude ... Harvey wouldn't have a clue of what to do.

• It started pretty small, you two would share small greetings if you pass by each other on his daily route. You would always say something like “you look nice today” or “that coat looks pretty good on you.” Of course, he'd stutter a little bit with a small blush, but he didn't think too much of it. It lingered on his mind, but he doubted that it was anything too serious. Just simple greetings.

• “Oh- good morning farmer! Make sure to stop by the clinic if you need anything, I know you're always on the run- oh? My ... my coat? Uhm- this old thing? Thanks ... hope you have a good rest of your day,” he'd say with a nervous smile before walking away. Just small things daily, but it was enough to put a smile on his face.

• He noticed that you stopped by the clinic more and more to chat with him. Varying hours of the day, but at least once everyday. Your friendship steadily inclined, and your bold comments were more and more evident. As you learned more about him, the more that would come out. You'd comment on how nice he is when he offered to do you a favor, or how charming he was in conversation. This would always catch him off guard, no matter how many times it happened. Like clockwork, his face would grow red and you could see the small twitches of his lips due to his mustache.

• “Oh- uhm- thank you? I really appreciate it, I- ... pardon my reaction, I just wasn't expecting it ... no one's ever commented on, much less compliment, that before ... am I really charming? ... why, thank you, farmer. I could say the same about you ... you're awfully kind by saying all these nice things about me. You're uh ... definitely a highlight of my day. Don't stop coming by ... but that's not an excuse to get hurt!”

• As you two gradually start progressing in your relationship, you two end up dating. The bluntness seems to turn into traditional flirting overtime. This results in Harvey's reactions being turned up to a ten. Making even one suggestive comment turns Harvey into a stuttering tomato. He loves it, though! He just doesn't know how to react to it.

• “Wh-What? You ... you think I'm ...? ... wh-what makes you say that? ... I-I didn't expect that out of you! M-Maybe I shouldn't underestimate you ... th-thank you? For thinking that ... about me? B-But uh- ... I think that about you too, I promise! I'm just all ... flustered ... y'know! I- ... I love you, and you really know how to make me basically braindead ... I really do love you.”

• Harvey is a mess in general. He's never really been romantically involved with anyone, so this was incredibly new to him. He loved the feeling of being flustered though, he found it new and sweet. Harvey was just in love with you in general, and he couldn't get over the fact that you made him feel so good about himself. Everyone needs a little ego boost once in a while.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

"You could have warned me!" With Harvey? 💛

Finally trying my hand at writing the doc <3

......

"There are monsters in the volcano that spit fire??? You could have warned me! Had I know you were going to venture there I-!"

"Harvey, honey, it wasn't that bad-"

"Then what's this second degree burn I am treating, hm?" The doctor simply gave you a semi-scolding look as he bandaged your bicep. You got a nasty burn from a mischievous Lava Lurker who caught you by surprise while exploring the volcano dungeon on Ginger Island.

You thought you deflected all of the beast's fireballs, but alas one managed to slip by your defenses and nearly scorch your skin off.

At the time it didn't hurt, although of course when your boyfriend asked if you were okay after leaving the dungeon....it began hurting like a bitch, and he had you rushed back to town to get it fully examined.

It made you feel a little bad, knowing Harvey just wanted to spend a relaxing day at the resort--even though you had to remind him that his worry over people stepping on glass or not applying sunscreen defeated the whole purpose of his "vacation."

You helped ground him, but at the same time became the reason he was gonna get a few extra grey hairs pretty soon. He learned you went to the volcano and found not only Slimes...but more monsters like flying fireballs, living mushrooms, and other creepy creatures.

He doesn't know how you could face any of them. He surely couldn't and wouldn't.

This was the first time you've come to his clinic with burns this severe.

"First the mines, then the skull caverns..and now this?" Harvey shuddered, overlooking your other injuries with profound worry. "And here I was..worried that you'd be coming out with heatstroke. What's in that volcano anyways?"

"A forge to enchant my weapons." You answered, gesturing to your weapon propped against the wall. "The dwarf living there told me all about it. I had to get past all ten floors to access the gate, slay some magma creatures for the guild, use my watering can to make bridges across the lava...oh, and I found a dragon tooth made of iridium among...."

"......"

"Harvey, I know that look..." Sighing, you brushed a hand over the bandages he placed on you, before gazing back at him. "I promise I don't let monsters go after me on purpose."

"[Y/n]. I just...I want you to be safe out there." He wringed his hands together, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. "All these injuries will add up...and they will take a toll on your body. And if it happens when you're in a bad place where I can't help you, then I...I-I just....I don't know what I'll-"

"Harvey."

You rested a hand on his knee, causing your poor boyfriend to jolt out of his ramblings in fright, seeing his wide-eyed stare and hints of tears gathering behind his glasses.

It made you feel all the more guilty for stressing him out this much. You honestly don't mean to.

"I know my limits better now thanks to you, and I always pack life elixirs before going into any monster-infested cave." You gave him a reassuring smile, taking his hands into yours. "I won't let anything bad happen to me, okay?"

"...okay, as long as you're keeping your word, I..I trust you." Harvey shakily returned the smile, his ahoulders relaxing. He was glad you were taking his advice.

Of course, he couldn't convince you to abandon spelunking and monster hunting altogether. He'd feel terrible for even suggesting that when it's been such a strong passion of yours since moving into the valley.

He only hopes that whatever you do in that scary dungeon, you carry it out with extreme caution.

Yoba only knows how devastated he'd be if you winded up in the emergency room again..in worse shape than last time.

[butcherlarry]

Weekly Fic Rec 40

It's been another ten fic rec lists, so you know what that means! A random list of recommendations of something not Superbat/Batfam/DC related. This time, it's meat related! Tbh, I don't know why I haven't done that before, lol.

Anyway, on to the fics!

Latchey by goldkirk - Batfam, complete. Tim joins the family early fic! He also runs a blog full of all his batfam photos (secretly, of course).

Fears Unfounded by OdosBucket - Superbat and Batfam, complete. Jason has some worries about Bruce's new partner, Clark.

Mission: seducing Superman by Speechless_since_1998 - Superbat, wip. Battinson figures the only way to stop Superman is to seduce him. Shenanigans ensue. Selina, Harley, and Ivy help.

The Price of Blame by AlexaAffect - Batfam, complete. Jason finds out that his siblings keep blaming their fuck ups on him to Bruce. He decides to start charging for his services. Shenanigans ensue.

painted blind by IHadHimOnTheRopes (CarterReid) - Superbat, wip. More of the soulmates fic, but from Clark's POV.

non-disclosure agreement by pomeloquat - Banebat, complete. A very good, very smutty fic from the BBWO collection. Also it's a pomeloquat fic, which are always a delight to read.

all that he can hold by shipyrds - Superbat, complete. Another lovely, smutty fic, with a focus on breathplay/choking. It also gets very Soft at the end, which I also enjoyed.

Borrowing a Bed by Anonymous - Superwonderbat, complete. A short fic where they all share a bed at the Kent house. Bruce is in the middle, of course.

Behind Closed Doors by Taxi_Cab_To_Slowtown - Pennywaynes, complete. Ace Thomas and his lovely spouses, Martha and Alfred :)

(Love) Triangles Have Multiple Centers by frozenpotions -Superbat, wip. More of the identity porn fic. Dick makes an appearance and he is a Delight.

Gently in the Night by Internedionality - Cloisbat, complete. Bruce isn't doing to well after Jason's death. Clark helps, then Lois. More Ace Bruce, because I'm a sucker for that.

The Heart Grows Fonder by Yippekia - Superbat, wip. Another lovely smutty fic from the BBWO collection. Clark goes off planet, but leaves some company behind to take care of Bruce :)

a sky of honey by TheResurrectionist - Superbat, wip. More of the omgaverse Superbat fic. Clark finally meets Jason.

nocturn by TheResurrectionist - Superbat, complete. Part of a room full of coral series. What Lex is doing in 'a sky of honey' when Bruce is going through his heat with Clark. He has a big sad, Bruce and Clark help.

Custody Exchange by SalParadiseLost - Bruharvey, complete. A creepy fic, just in time for the holiday! Jason is the child of Bruce and Harvey. Bruce is a monster, and so is Jason. Bruce and Harvey share custody.

Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 - Superbat, wip. More of the mer Bruce fic! Also, Bruce is back!!

we shall be free; we shall find peace by mediant - Superbat (eventually), wip. More of Clark being a long time prisoner of Lex. Latest chapter was sad (not that that's a bad thing!), but Kon is a teen now!

And now for the meat recommendations! I grew up on a beef farm raising Angus, so most of these are going to be beef since I'm biased that way. But if you poke me, I could give you some recommendations of some other species too (except fish, not a lot of experience there).

Of steaks that come from the middle meats (ribeye, loin), I have a fondness of ribeye steak. BUT ONLY if it comes from the front of the ribeye roll. The reason why is because there is a cap muscle that wraps around the major loin muscle (longissimus dorsi) called the spinalis dorsi. It's so much more tender and flavorful than the actual ribeye muscle.

Below is an example of what I mean. It's that flat muscle wrapping around the oval shaped one:

Next is the Flat Iron steak! That muscle is called the infraspinatus, and is the second most tender muscle in the carcass! And also cheaper than the most tender muscle, the tenderloin (like, more than half the price per pound). It comes from the chuck, or shoulder of the beef carcass, and hangs out on top of the shoulder blade.

Below is a picture. Note, there is a thick piece of connective tissue that lays in the middle of the muscle. It has to be filleted out (sort of like fish), then you'll have two long strips of meat. This picture has the connective tissue out.

My finally recommendation is a more economic option, cube steak! It comes from the back leg, or round of the carcass. I tend to not like meat that comes from this primal because I always find it so dry and tough. Most of the time, my family just grinds it all for ground beef (adding fat trim so it's not so lean). But, we do request or make cube steak whenever we get one of our beef carcasses processed. Eye of round (this is the same muscle as your hamstring in your leg) is used, but top or bottom round can be used as well. Since those muscles are so tough, they are mechanically tenderized using a cuber, where you drop the meat through some blades a few times until it's tender. I like to bread mine in seasoned flour, brown them, and then drop in a crock pot with cream of mushroom soup or cream of chicken soup (sometimes both if it's a large batch). It cooks while I'm at work, and when I get home, I make some potatoes to go with my meat and gravy. I have fond memories eating this after a cold day of helping Dad with farm chores as a kid.

Below is an example:

Again, if you want any recommendations for other species, let me know! But to be honest, a lot of the cuts from a pork or lamb carcass is the same as a beef, it's just smaller with (maybe) a different name.

Happy reading (and eating)!

[bloatedandalone04]

Thief - Too Close Part 2

Series Masterlist

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 11.2k | Previous Part | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Oh, my God, Leon,” you gasp as you open the front door, the chilled air sweeping in and making you repress a shiver as you wrap your cardigan further around your body. “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you everything,” he mumbled, the metallic taste of blood consuming his mouth. “I just need you to help me, first.”

You nodded almost instantly, your hand grabbing his and beginning to pull him into your house. 

At his resistance, you glance back and give him a confused look. He just shakes his head. “Not here,”

Shaking your own head, you tried not to focus on the way his lips dripped blood and the black eye that had formed on the left side of his face. “Leon-”

“Please,” he cut you off, his voice muffled as he leaned against the doorframe, his body feeling like it could give up on him at any given second. His tone was harsh without him meaning it to be, something that had your brows furrowing at the unfamiliar sound. “Please, baby, just trust me. I need you to come with me.”

You chew on your bottom lip before reaching over and tugging on your converse, ignoring the way the back scratched against your ankles due to your lack of socks. You grab one of his arms and wrap it around your shoulder, your other hand closing the door behind you. 

Leon blindly reached in the pocket of his jeans, his fingers finding the keys to his car. He hands them to you while also trying not to put his entire body weight on you. He felt embarrassed at the thought of you seeing him like this, beaten and bloody and bruised. He hated that he showed you this side of him when it was the last thing he ever wanted to involve you in.

But he had no one else to go to. He hadn’t seen his family in years, and his few friends were miles away. He didn’t trust your father’s men and he sure as hell didn’t trust his boss. That only left you.

“Where are we going?” You asked as you helped him walk to his car, propping his weight onto one side of your body as you pulled open the passenger side door. 

“My place,” he mumbled before letting out a grunt of pain as he fell against the seat. 

Closing the door, you nearly sprint to the drivers side and climb in, your eyes immediately looking over at your boyfriend. He leaned against the window, his heavy eyes trying to stay open as blood fell from his mouth beyond his control. “I don’t know where you live,” you quietly point out, your heart dropping when you catch sight of the blood that covered the steering wheel. 

Leon groaned as his forearm pressed against his abdomen. “I’ll tell you,”

You cover your hand with the sleeve of your cardigan before wiping away most of the blood and starting the car. “Okay,” you shakily breathe out, looking over at his motionless form. “You need to stay awake for you to be able to tell me, you know that, right?”

Leon just nodded, waving you off and groaning at the pain that shot through him at the movement. 

Without another word, you back out of the questionable parking job done by him and leave the driveway. You pull out onto the dirt road that led to your house, glancing over at Leon, who was slipping in and out of consciousness. “Where am I going?” It would be at least a ten minute drive until you were on the highway, but you still wanted to be prepared when you got to that point. 

Leon huffed quietly, raising his hand to weakly point at the windshield. “Turn right when you reach the main road,” was all he said.

Hundreds of trees passed by in a blur, the setting sun making the dirt road a bit harder to see. “Where is Harvey?” You ask, knowing about Leon’s close bond with him. He was one of the few people on your dad’s side that Leon actually trusted and had been assigned to scout out many areas with him, resulting in a friendship forming. 

One of his shoulders raised in a shrug. “I don’t know,”

You tear your eyes away from your beaten boyfriend as you finally reach the end of the road, barely coming to a stop before turning right. “Where to now?” You question as you glance over at him. He was hunched over, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips parted. “Hey, stay awake. I need you to keep your eyes open, okay?” You tried not to sound panicked as you spoke to him, knowing that you needed to keep him talking so he wouldn’t pass out. 

“Keep going…it’s maybe a five minute drive until the next turn,” Your heart felt like it was beating a million miles per minute and you took a deep breath as you looked back at the road. He sounded so tired and on the verge of passing out before you made it to his house, something that wasn’t ideal as you would then be forced to take him to the hospital, something that would most likely do more harm than good because of his job.

In another attempt to keep him talking, you keep your eyes forward as you ask, “What happened?”

Leon just shook his head, a pained grunt leaving his mouth at the movement. His head was pounding and even the sound of your sweet voice didn’t seem to help it in any way. 

You curse under your breath, shaking your own head as you gripped the wheel tighter. “I knew we should’ve done this at my house,” you muttered. “Fuck whatever my dad would’ve said about it.”

Leon dismissed your worried tone with a wave of his hand. “I’m fine,”

“You’re not fine!” You felt like a mother scolding her kid on something they were told not to do but did anyway. “Why can’t you tell me what the hell happened?”

“Y/n, please,” he begged, something he had never done before. It had you shutting up pretty quickly. “Not now.”

You wanted to push him more, but decided against it when you heard the quiet whimper he tried to hold back. “Okay,” you mumble, reaching over to brush his hair out of his face with one hand. “Okay, just…tell me where to go next.”

It was considered a miracle when Leon somehow made it through the rest of the ride.

The highway turned into a road, and the road turned into a dirt path. It was dark out now, the sun had long since set and left you to turn the high beams on to be able to see even a little bit in front of you. 

With the mix of dust and dirt that surrounds the car, you were certain you were lost and that Leon had given you the wrong directions by accident. Just as you were about to ask him where you were, he sits up straight and nods his head to the right. “Stop over there,”

You reluctantly do as he said, stopping in the direction he pointed to. Before you could ask him where his house was, you look over and see a trailer. It looked empty and if you didn’t know any better you’d think it was abandoned. Looking back at your boyfriend, you see a look of embarrassment flash across his face before he moves his hand to open the door. 

Quickly getting out of the car after grabbing the keys, you reach him just as he falls forward, his hand gripping the door frame tightly as you wrap his arm around your shoulder. With Leon putting most of his weight on you as you stumbled towards the trailer, you took it upon yourself to fumble around with his keys before finding the one that would unlock the door. 

As you tried to lead him over to the couch, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the pained yelled he let out when you tugged on his arm. He pulled away from you and that was when you noticed the odd shape his shoulder was in. “Oh, God,” you say quietly, tugging on the bloody sleeves of your cardigan as you shift uncomfortably. “I think it’s dislocated-”

Before you could finish that observation, Leon grabbed the wrist of his injured arm and pulled it forward quickly. The sound of his bone snapping back into place had you covering your mouth with your hands, your eyes widening at the loud yell he emitted before stumbling forward and knocking a glass cup off the table. 

It shattered on the ground just as he fell forward and landed on the couch with a low groan, his eyes closing as soon as his body hit the cushion. “Leon?” You rushed over to him, caressing the sides of his face and lifting his head. You gently slap his cheek, your heart stopping when you get no response. “Fuck.”

You stand up quickly, looking around the unfamiliar room before making your way down the small hallway. Entering the bathroom, you pull open the cabinet and grab bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and a couple pill bottles. 

You throw the items on the couch beside him before rummaging through the small kitchen, grabbing a few dish towels in your search. Once you had everything you needed, you sat next to Leon, your heart loud in your ears as you wet the towel with the peroxide. Gently placing your hand under his chin, you lift his head as you use the cloth to wipe away the blood that covered his mouth.

Glancing at his still closed eyes, you found a small amount of relief when you notice the way they moved under the lids. Briefly, you wonder what he was dreaming about, before continuing to clean his face of the horrifying red substance. 

-

Leon huffed as he walked up the long driveway, any and all air successfully drained from his lungs once he reached the front door. His finger pressed down on the doorbell as he placed his other hand in his pocket, his eyes fixated on the marbled design that lined the frame of the door.

He will never understand why Clark had such a big infatuation for marble. Having been in the house more than once, Leon knew all about the marble countertops, marble flooring and marble fireplace. Fuck, was the man arrogant. 

A few seconds pass and Leon raises his hand to knock instead of ringing the bell again. Before his fist could come into contact with the wood, the door swung open and revealed someone he had never seen before. In person, at least. 

“Hi,” you say cheerfully, if not a bit hesitant. Leon doesn’t say anything as his hand drops back down to his side, making you shift from one foot to the other, a pair of fuzzy light pink socks keeping you warm from the cold marble tile that made up the front hall. “Are you looking for my father?” You ask quietly when he doesn’t answer, leaning against the door and half hiding yourself behind it. 

Leon nodded, standing up a bit straighter, trying to ignore the very little clothing that covered you. A light grey tank top and black sweat shorts left your arms and legs bare, exposing your smooth skin to him. 

He tried to keep his wandering eyes at bay as he cleared his throat, but he couldn’t deny that you were even prettier in person compared to the countless pictures in frames that were littered around your house. 

“He’s not here right now. He’s still out running an errand,” you say and Leon knew right then and there that you had no idea of what exactly your dad got up to in his free time. You were so innocent. 

“Oh,” was all he could say, shoving his other hand in his pocket as he stepped away from you. “Okay. Thanks.” Part of him curses at how short lived the conversation between the two of you was. 

Before he could fully turn around, you moved forward and opened the door further. “You can wait for him inside, if you want,” you call out to him, bringing your hand up and biting down on your thumb when he turns back around to face you. “Only if you want. I know how long the road to our house can seem sometimes, I’d hate for you to have to come back again later.”

Leon tenses up at your offer, something you notice. 

You step away again. “He should be home soon,” you mumble. “He said by six and it’s nearly five thirty now.”

You seemed intimidated, and he hated knowing he made you feel that way. You were just being nice, acting so differently from the way your father acted. Without even knowing you, Leon could tell that you and Clark were total opposites. 

Your dad was ruthless, mean and ignorant, only focusing on what he could do to get more money and have his perfect little town bowing down to his every need. He was dangerous, much like Leon was, and had more blood on his hands than you would ever know.

But you were sweet, had kind eyes and a curious smile. You welcomed him into your house with a small grin and a tilt of your head, only worried about him having to make the same trip twice in the same day. 

How could he turn up that offer from someone like you?

Turning back to you, he dropped the tenseness in his body and wiped the stone cold look he was so used to wearing off his face. “Okay,” he said again, stepping towards you and trying to ignore the scent of vanilla that filled his nose when he brushed past you. 

You close the door and move to stand next to him. “Um,” you play with the bracelet on your wrist, one Leon recognized as the one he was sent off to get a few weeks prior. The one that read ‘Daddy’s Girl’. “You can wait for him in here.”

Leading him into the den, you took notice of the way he moved as if he already knew the layout of the house. Seeing as this was your first time meeting him, there was a very real possibility that he had been here many times before without your knowledge, something that was made even clearer as he walked around the side table and avoided stepping on the area of the floor that creaks. 

He sits down on the leather couch and glances up at you, who was still standing near the doorframe. “So,” you trail off, looking at the various paintings you had grown up with that hung on the tall walls. “How long have you known my dad?”

‘Known your dad’? Fuck, you really are innocent. 

You had no idea that he was one of the many men who worked for your dad, had killed for your dad and had stolen for your dad. Leon was in disbelief that you really had no clue what was going on behind closed doors in your own house, the mansion that it was.

“A while,” was all he said, holding back a smirk at the way you refused to meet his eyes. 

“That’s cool,” you nod, your fingers tugging on the gold around your wrist. “What are you two planning to do once he gets home?”

Leon shook his head, leaning back on the couch and resting his arm on the back of it. “How old are you?” He asked, watching the way your face heated up at his question. “You seem old enough to figure that question out on your own, sweetheart.”

And what a sweet heart you had. 

You give him a playful shrug, daring to step closer to him. “I’m twenty one,” you answer him, moving to sit on the coffee table that was a couple feet from him. “And you seem old enough to answer a simple question without getting defensive about it.”

The way you returned his tone had him failing to hold back a surprised smile. “It’s just business,” he simply said, making you squint in confusion, but you didn’t voice it.

“Oh,” was all you said, matching the way he said it at the front door. A few seconds pass before you look back up at him, a small grin on your lips - the same lips Leon had failed to stop glancing at every time you looked at him. “How old are you?”

He shakes his head at your question, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. “Twenty seven as of this week,”

Your brows raise in surprise. “Oh, wow,” you trail off, discreetly crossing your legs and leaning back on the table. “You’re younger than most of my fathers friends. Better looking, too.”

Leon was caught off guard at your sudden burst of confidence, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel the tiniest bit turned on. But you are his boss’s daughter, there was no possible way that anything could happen with you. It just couldn’t. 

Still, he found himself returning the flirt with no hesitation at all. “You’re not too bad yourself,” he said casually. “You must get your looks from your mother.”

You shrug, a grin on your lips. “She was quite the pretty lady,” you agree. “So, what’s your name?”

The two of you talked for the next two hours before you were interrupted by your dad stumbling through the front door, the sound making you move away from your place next to Leon. You had moved off the uncomfortable wooden table and sat next to the man as your conversation went on, both of you noticing the way the space between you grew less and less, yet neither of you did anything to stop it.

Until your dad entered the room and you stood up quickly. “Dad! You’re back!” You hugged him, ignoring the way Leon’s eyes burned a hole into your back. “I was just keeping Leon company until you got home.”

Leon stood up as you pulled away, trying to keep his wandering eyes under control. “I hope that’s alright, sir,”

Your dad ignored your confused look, the whole ‘sir’ thing never making sense to you. “No problem,” he answered, placing his hand on Leon’s shoulder as he guided him towards his office. “Sorry I’m so late. I had some unfinished business.”

“That’s okay,” Leon answered, glancing over his shoulder and meeting your eyes. “Nice to meet you, Y/n.”

You gave him a small smile and a wave, watching as the two men disappeared down the hall. All you were left with was the small ounce of hope that filled you at the thought of seeing him again.

-

The few pictures that lined the walls of the trailer held unfamiliar faces, but you could tell by the appearances that they were Leon’s parents. His father’s striking blue eyes and his mother’s bright blonde hair were the perfect combination to make the man still passed out on the couch a few feet away. 

The photos filled you with a sense of happiness, knowing about his past with his family and how bad it was. The fact he still had their pictures made your heart swell as you never really took him as the family type, not after what he told you, anyway.

The one picture that had your heart skipping was one that was stuck to the fridge by a magnet. It was the smallest one, a simple polaroid that included the two of you. Only half of Leon’s face was visible in the photo while the rest of it was taken up by you, your lips pressed to his cheek in a messy kiss. It was slightly blurred as you had taken the photo when he was least expecting it. 

The small, half smile on his lips was what had your heart pounding loudly in your ears. It was a rare sight, and that was further proved when you compared the polaroid to the pictures with his family. His dad’s hand was gripping Leon’s shoulder tightly, the older man’s face stern and unfriendly while Leon looked uncomfortable. A hint of a smile was present on his face in the photo with his mother, his arm loosely hung around her shoulder, but neither photo showed him looking truly happy, like the one with you. 

Your hand reached up to absentmindedly touch your necklace, your finger running along the carved LK while you examined the small space of what you could only assume Leon considered his house. 

He had never told you where he lived or what his living situation was like, and you never expected it to be like this. All of the other men who worked for your father would always brag about how much money they had and how nice their houses were, so you knew Leon also had a fair amount of money to his name. It was odd that he was living in the middle of nowhere, but it also brought you the smallest bit of comfort knowing that it was quite the drive to get here. 

That means he’s as safe as he could be when he’s not with your dad, right?

Before you could get too lost in thought, you hear the sound of the couch creaking, the old springs squealing as Leon pushed himself into a seated position. The worn out blanket you had thrown over him fell to his lap, his body hunched over and mirroring the way he looked back in the car. 

You were rushing over to him and sitting down on the couch within seconds. “Hey,” you murmur, lifting a hand up to brush away the hair that covered his eyes. “How are you doing?”

Leon groaned quietly, his tired eyes fixated on the dried blood that stained the sleeves of your cardigan - something you had meant to take off and discard before he woke up, but forgot when you caught sight of the photos. “Sorry,” he muttered, holding your wrist in his hand.

 You shake your head, placing your other hand on his shoulder, gentle as to not disturb his sore arm. You try not to think about how loud the sound was when he popped his shoulder back into place, the sickening snap making you feel nauseous. “Are you seriously apologizing for that?”

He shrugged, withholding a wince at the pull of his muscle. “This was one of your favorites,”

“And I’ll get another one,” you wave him off, pulling your wrist away and tilting his head slightly, making him squint from the light of the lamp you had turned on. A somewhat sigh of relief leaves you as you observe his face, a small amount of blood that you missed still sticking to his skin. “It looks like the swelling has gone down a bit.” 

You reach over and grab the pill bottles, dumping one from each container into your palm and trying to ignore how you could feel his eyes watching your every move. 

“Here, take these,” you hand him the pills and narrow your eyes at the blood that still stained his hands. “I’ll get you some water.”

He shook his head, placing the pills in his mouth and grabbing your arm again. His free hand reaches beside the couch and pulls out a half empty bottle of whiskey and you watch as he sips a fairly large amount of the liquid before swallowing. 

You refrain from showing your distaste for the way he coped with pain and instead grab the wet cloth from before, the tan fabric now stained red. Wiping away the blood from his hands, you break the silence, “How are you holding up?”

Leon couldn’t meet your eyes, his face heated from both the punches he took earlier and from embarrassment at the fact that you had to take care of him when he wished you never saw him this way. He always came off as a tough guy, one who was careful and used violence as a last resort. He said he could take care of himself, and he could - the blood on his hands not actually being his own, but his attacker’s. Yet here he was, beaten and bruised, knuckles sore from the punches he threw back and shoulder burning with pain. 

“I’m fine,” he answered, looking around the room in shame. This was not how he wanted you to see this place. Actually, he didn’t want you to see this place at all. He only slept here, really. He was always with your dad, and by default, at your house. All this trailer was to Leon was his safe place, somewhere only he and Harvey knew the location of. Well, him, Harvey and now you. 

But you didn’t seem interested in where he lived. You seemed more concerned about him in general, your weary eyes giving away just how worried you were about him. He shouldn’t be surprised, you were never one to judge someone for their misfortunes and further embarrass them for things they had no control over. 

And it also didn’t come as a surprise that you looked past his secrets and discarded them as not being your business. “Are you going to tell me what happened now?”

Leon sighed before nodding and carefully sitting back, his hand lazily holding yours in an attempt to give himself some form of comfort. “Your father was getting really angry earlier. He was frustrated because he was tipped off of a potential outsider among his men. Something about missing money and information given to an old enemy. Whatever it was, he was pretty pissed when Harvey and I got to your place,”

You furrow your brow. “You were at my house today?” 

“Yeah, it was only briefly as your dad sent us away pretty much right after we got there since he wanted us to go interrogate this guy named Linus,” his free hand raised to give air quotes to the word ‘interrogate’. “It was a total setup. We were attacked as soon as we got there.”

“Where?” 

Leon’s tired eyes stayed fixated on the carpet as he answered, “Some old repair shop,” after you nod in understanding he continued, “Harvey took a crowbar to the face and I got a fist to the jaw and it was complete chaos after that. I don’t even remember what happened until I was nearly crawling out of there and covered in blood that wasn’t all mine. I don’t even know what happened to Harvey.”

You give his hand a comforting squeeze, inching closer to him out of habit. 

“I didn’t know where else to go. Thought about calling up your old man and saying some not-so-nice things that would’ve probably made him finish the job the guys at the shop started,”

You shake your head at that. “No,” you say. “No, you’re one of the few guys my dad actually trusts. He wouldn’t do that.”

He gave you a look, one mixed with pity and one that said ‘you’re delusional’. “He’s the one who sent us there in the first place,” he pointed out, his thumb stroking your knuckles. “He had to have known what we were walking into, it explains why he didn’t go with us. He wanted to make sure that if he was being betrayed, it would be us who faced the consequences. It’s his way of delivering the message.”

You look away, wanting to not believe that your dad was capable of sending off his best men straight into a trap that could’ve easily gotten them killed. But, then again…your dad was a very closed off man and never allowed you to be involved in this kind of thing. He wasn’t even aware that you knew about it and still thinks you’re his oblivious, obedient little girl. That girl was long gone, replaced by a woman who was completely in love with a guy who had seen things and done things she could never imagine. 

“He had you attacked so he could prove to the outsider that he wasn’t one to be betrayed,” you trail off in realization. Tears gather in your eyes and you bring your hand up to cover your mouth. “Leon, I’m so sorry.”

He quickly shook his head, pulling his hand from yours and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He presses you against his chest, pain be damned, and wraps his other, much sorer, arm around your waist. “It’s not your fault, don’t be sorry,” he says, his chin resting on the top of your head. 

Your hands wrap around his arm as you press yourself closer to him, finding that it was you who now needed a sense of comfort. “It is,” you cry. “All I’ve ever done is defend and ignore what he’s done. I acted like if I pretended it never happened, then he was still the same guy who raised me, who taught me how to be strong and to look out for others. I can’t believe he would do this.”

It was then when you realized that he wasn’t teaching you how to look out for others……he was teaching you how to look out for yourself, to hell with anyone else.

Leon tensed up as he debated on how to handle this. Should he tell you what you already know, but most likely won’t believe without confirmation from him? Or should he just shut up and provide you with the comfort and care you had given him since he showed up on your doorstep covered in blood?

His hold on you tightens and his jaw locks as he decides to go with the first one. “He’s not who you think he is, baby,” Leon hated that he was the one to tell you that, but at the same time was glad you were hearing it from the person who cared for you the most.

Lifting your head quickly, you roughly wipe away your tears and sharply inhale. “Tell me more,” you say. “Tell me everything.”

If your dad was a bad guy, you wanted to know any and everything he was capable of, even if it broke your heart in the end. You felt betrayed, like your respect for your father had been abruptly shattered and your trust was running thin as the seconds went on. 

How long had you been oblivious to his ways?

You had only recently been informed of what he did for a living, after years of suspicion on your part, and the person who told you was none other than your boyfriend of, at that point, four months. Leon had tried to hold off on telling you for as long as he could, in fear of your own safety and not his, but every time you looked at him with desperate eyes and a slight pout, he caved more and more.

Now, ten months into the relationship and you were only now finding out how truly cruel your father is. He sent his two best men into a trap to protect himself when he was having doubts about the loyalty of someone in his circle. Better them than him. 

Better Leon than him, actually. 

You were mad, upset and embarrassed, and your continuous flow of tears only added to that, but you couldn’t help it. 

“I can’t,” he hesitantly answered, hating the fact that he dropped this massive bomb on you but couldn’t say anything else without risking your well-being. Now that was something he refused to do. “You know I can’t, it’s too dangerous.”

Your shoulders dropped in disappointment, your lip quivering as you inched closer to him. Bunching his torn up shirt in your hands, you refused to meet his eyes as you begged, “Please,” you felt beyond pathetic at this point. “It’s not fair.”

“I know it’s not,” he agreed, caressing the back of your head as he held you against his chest. “I know it’s not, princess, and I’m so sorry I can’t tell you everything you deserve to know, but I won’t risk losing you like this. Not now, not ever.”

You nod in understanding, though your heart fell a bit at what else he was keeping from you. “Isn’t it risky for you to be telling me all of this, too, though?”

Leon felt his heart flare up at the fact that you were still so concerned about him when he had just completely flipped your world upside down. God, you were perfect. “It can be,” he confirmed, his hand running up and down your back, despite the ache that it caused to his sore fingers. “But I don’t care what happens to me, just as long as you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

Not knowing what else to say, the words “that’s sweet, but I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me and I would rather die than lose you” threatening to leave your lips, you settle on pulling away from him and standing up. “Come on,” you say quietly, holding your hand out to him. “You need to go shower, rinse the rest of that stuff off you.”

That stuff meaning blood. A lot of it. 

You stained at least two cloths with blood from just his face and his hands, so you were a bit more than terrified to see what was hidden underneath his clothing. 

Leon stood, his hand tightly clasped in yours. “I’ll only shower if you shower with me,” he towered over you, his height intimidating you in the best way possible.

“I don’t have any clothes here,” it was a poor excuse and you both knew it. You just didn’t want to see the bruises that surely covered his chest. 

“Well, I do,” he pointed out and tugged you along to the small hallway. “You’ve worn my clothes hundreds of times now, what’s so different about this time?” 

You keep your head down as he opens the door. “You’re hurt, Leon,”

“I’m fine,” he dismissed you, dropping your hand as he moved the curtain back to turn on the water. He hissed quietly when he felt the hot water seep into the various cuts on his arm, something he hoped you didn’t hear but you were right there.

“Yeah,” you bow your head, a small smile on your lips as he turns to face you again. “You seem it.”

He shakes his head as he steps closer to you, his hands tugging on the hem of his ripped shirt. You tried to prepare yourself, but who were you kidding? Nothing you did could’ve prepared you for the sight you were met with when he discarded the article of clothing on the floor near the sink. 

Scattered across his chest were various cuts and slice marks, both dried and fresh flood surrounding each one. The movement of his shirt ripping away from the wounds caused a new wave of blood to rush out, a bit beginning to drip and create trails down his skin. 

On his lower torso were multiple bruises, shaped like someone’s fist. The dark, purpled skin stared at you as you stepped back, your hand covering your mouth. There was a large bruise that was half on his front and half on his side, and you knew that was the reason he couldn’t sit upright in the car as his ribs were undoubtedly bruised as well. The scar from his bullet wound looked so painless now when compared to the rest of him.

Leon avoided eye contact as he turned away from you and discarded the rest of his clothes before disappearing behind the foggy curtain. 

You let out a shaky breath when you heard him groan out in pain as he tried to quickly wash away the blood in an attempt to make you forget about what he had endured. It was no use as the image of him being covered in the cruel markings of a sadistic man was now burned into your head.

Slowly, you shrug off your cardigan and kick off your converse next to his boots, your shirt and jeans following shortly after. When you were bare and in the same vulnerable state as Leon, it was then when you moved the curtain back and stepped in behind him. 

His back was to you, his hair soaked and the tiled floor gathering a pale pink hue of water. You reach your hand out and place it on his shoulder, feeling the multitude of knots beneath your fingertips. 

The skin of his back was no better than his front. More bruises littered the surface, but they were bigger than the ones on his abdomen. You knew right away that they were the result of him being kicked multiple times while he was down. 

Your heart broke further at the thought and you stepped closer to him, the water now misting over you as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. Your chest pressed to his back and the side of your face pressed to his shoulder, your touch feather light in fear - the thought of you hurting him even further nearly brought you to tears. 

His hands, which were placed flat against the wall in front of him as he stood under the showerhead, moved so they were holding yours. Your joined hands rest against his chest as his head tilts back and leans on yours. 

The water was now hitting his face directly, the dried blood you had missed now trailing down his chin in streams of red and pink, making the falling water a dark color before it got the chance to hit the floor. The black bruise around his eye burned just a bit as the water hit it and he was unable to fully open it as it felt far too heavy at the moment. 

The split in his lip probably would’ve had him cursing as he felt the water seep into it, but the painkillers had already kicked in and left him feeling numb all over. The sting of the water invading his wounds had faded to a stiff discomfort, his whole body feeling heavy with fatigue. All he wanted to do was sleep, preferably with you wrapped up in his arms as you helped wash away everything that had happened during the span of the day.

Sleeping right after taking a high dosage of medication was dumb, and he knew better, so he’d let you swoon over him for a little while longer before you were forced to return home to your father when he noticed your absence. 

“I’m staying here tonight,” it was as if you could read his mind and knew how to push his worries aside whenever he thought about them. It further fueled his theory that you were made for him.

It was late into the night, the sun had set when you were still driving over here, and he had been passed out for at least a good two hours while you cleaned him up, so the exact time was unknown, but neither of you cared. 

It was reckless, you both knew it. 

Your father was a smart man, and it wouldn’t take him long before he put two and two together. The sudden disappearance of his daughter, all the calls he made to Leon having been unanswered, the few drops of dried blood on the doorstep of your house.

Luckily, all it did was draw suspicion. As of right now, your father was sitting in the den, the room heated by the fire and a glass of whiskey in one hand as he stared at his phone, expecting a call from you at any second to explain your absence.

And you would call, after you were done taking care of your lover and making sure he was on his way to a decent recovery. Only then would you grab your phone from its spot on Leon’s dashboard and tell your father that you were staying at a friend’s house and apologize for the late call. 

“You don’t have to,” but man did he want you to.

You brush off his quiet words and place a kiss on his wet shoulder. “I’m not leaving you like this,” you answer. “I can’t.”

Leon turned in your arms, his own wrapping around your shoulders while his hands tangled in your hair. He pulls you against his chest and presses a kiss to the top of your head as you gently wrap your arms around his middle. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he murmured into your hair as the water cascaded down both your bodies. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

You shake your head and move closer to him. “Thank you for letting me in,”

-

Leon’s words from a couple of weeks ago sounded throughout your head as you wiped away angry tears from your face, your eyes staring into the cold ones of your father. 

“You can’t say anything about this to him. He doesn’t even know that you know about his job or mine. It’ll only make things worse. Promise me you won’t say anything to him, please.”

You cursed yourself for agreeing to that promise as you inhale a shaky breath, your built up frustration and betrayal rising the longer you stayed in the same room as him. 

Don’t say anything. Don’t yell at him. Don’t break your promise.

It was on repeat in your head as you pushed past your dad and made a beeline for your bedroom. “Where do you think you’re going?” He called out and followed you out of the den. “We’re not done talking about this.”

“Yes, we are, dad,” you seethed as you stormed down the long hallway. “I’m twenty two, okay? I’m not a child anymore. You can’t just keep me here.”

You weren’t sure how the argument started, but things had been tense between you and your dad ever since you found out about how he set up Leon and Harvey - who was fine, by the way. He showed up to the trailer the day after you patched Leon up, his body in the same condition as his partners and his clothes stained red. 

Still, he gave you a bloodied grin and asked if you could help him next. 

You could see why Leon liked the guy so much. 

“I don’t care how old you are, sweetheart. As long as you’re living under my roof, you’ll be following my rules. And I said no,” his words dripped venom, an anger you’ve heard from him that was often directed to others, but never at you. “So, there is your answer.”

You inhale sharply, annoyance quickly bubbling inside you.

“I wasn’t asking for permission, dad,” you muttered as you shoved open the door to your room. Of course he followed you in. “I was telling you. Giving you a heads up, that’s all.”

“You’re not hearing me-|

“No, you’re not hearing me,” you cut him off and grabbed the bag you had packed and placed on your bed a mere half hour before all of this. “I’m not a kid anymore. You can’t tell me what to do as I’m a grown adult. If I want to leave the house without telling you, then I will. But that’s besides the point as I actually did tell you this time. I can’t stay here forever. I have my own life.”

You thought you did a pretty good job at getting your point across, but clearly you were wrong as his sarcastic laugh met your ears.

“Not while you’re living here, you don’t,” he simply said and your eyes widened in anger and disbelief. “One day, sweetheart, you will see that my keeping you here is for your own good. It’s a cruel world out there.”

You were quickly becoming pissed off, your shoulders tensing and nose flaring.

He always treated you like a child, despite the fact that you hadn’t been for a long time now. This wasn’t the first time you had brought up wanting to leave and move away from the only house you had ever known, but every time it ended the same way. 

Your dad would brush you off and tell you that you don’t know how to take care of yourself, or you wouldn’t make it a week out in the real world and it’s better to let him take care of you a little longer. 

You feared that you would be pushing thirty by the time he deemed reasonable for you to move out. That was too late, you were ready now.

There was nothing left for you here. You had long since graduated high school, and even that you had to fight your dad on as he insisted he hire a teacher so you could be homeschooled. He said you didn’t need to go to college or university as people only go there to get a good job in the future. According to him, you would never need a job as he’d pay for everything you could possibly want.

It was too much. 

You wanted out. You wanted freedom.

Before you stop yourself, you mutter the words, “It’s a cruel world in here, too,”

Your father gave you a confused look and you could see a flash of panic in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“I know who you are, dad,” you say quietly, deciding to just get it over with. You blew it, that much was obvious. You never were good at keeping quiet about the things that pissed you off. “I know what you do. Maybe not all of it, but I know enough.” 

He looked beyond shocked and you had to silently applaud yourself for being able to keep quiet about your knowledge of his job for nearly a year.  It was a hard task, but you did it nonetheless. “Who told you?”

Leon flashed through your mind and you quickly bit your tongue. There was no way you’d throw him under the bus and tell your dad that it was him who told you damn near everything. “No one told me anything, dad,” you were lucky that you had always been a good liar. “I figured it out on my own. The late night meetings with those guys, the secrets, the random calls you can’t take while I’m in the room. You haven’t exactly been all that discreet about it.”

He looked speechless as his lips parted and his brows furrowed, a look of realization taking over his features. “So… how much do you know?”

“I know enough,” you mutter and push past him. “More than enough for me to not want to be part of your fucked up world any longer.” It was the first time you had ever used that kind of language with him, and he quickly decided he didn’t like it.

He grabbed your wrist tightly. “Y/n,” he said sternly, his hold not faltering even as you tried to pull away. “You’re not leaving this house. We’re not done talking about this.”

“I am,” you successfully pull your hand away and watch as a look of betrayal flashes across his face. His eyes narrow and his jaw locks as he looks you up and down with an unreadable expression. 

“Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She raised you better than this,” he spit and the anger in his voice had you stepping back.

You fall quiet at that, your eyes stinging at the mention of the person you missed the most in the whole world. It had been years since you lost the one person who made your childhood at least somewhat normal, and you believed a part of you died with her. 

Your father hardly ever talks about her, while you talk about her all the time. He never cried, never even teared up since her passing, making you believe that he really was heartless. 

Shaking your head, you turn away and head straight for the door. “I don’t think she would be,” you say without looking back at him. “In fact, I think it’s you who she’d be disappointed in, not me.”

“Y/n,” he warned again when you grabbed the doorknob. “Walking out that door might just be the stupidest thing you will ever do. If you leave now, I promise you it’ll be the biggest mistake of your life.”

His threat only fueled your need to leave, and with a final look at the man, you turn your back to him once again and open the door before slamming it behind you. 

-

It was late, and you probably should’ve left a bit sooner as the drive was still a bit unfamiliar to you. What should’ve been a twenty minute drive became a forty minute one, and by the time you turned the car off and got out, it was dark out and the only sound that filled the air was crickets. 

Your head was pounding and your eyes burned as a fresh wave of tears filled them. You raised your hand to knock on the thin metal door, your gaze fixated on the small window that was made up of frosted glass. 

A few seconds pass and you knock again, this time seeing a silhouette behind the glass. Slowly, the door opens and you step back when your eyes meet Leon’s. A huff of relief leaves his lips as he leans over to place his gun on the counter, not expecting that it was you who was at his door.

When he caught sight of your tear filled eyes, he pushed the door open further and gently grabbed your hand. He pulled you into the trailer, his eyes flickering all over the surrounding area before he shut and locked the door behind you. “Baby,” he said quietly, his hands caressing the sides of your face. “What happened?”

At the touch of his hands and the softness in his voice, you break down entirely. Loud sobs leave you as you press your body against his, your hands fisting his shirt while your tears dampen the fabric.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hand holding the back of your head as you pressed your face to his chest. Your cries caught him off guard completely, as did your entire appearance. He assumed he was about to get robbed or perhaps someone was there to settle unfinished business, hence why he had his gun ready. He didn’t expect when he opened the door to be met with the distraught sight of his sweet girlfriend. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head and bury your face into his shirt. 

“Talk to me, angel,” he murmured against the top of your head. You look up at him, a small bit of relief filling you at the faint bruise that was around his left eye. He had pretty much fully healed since the night he came to your house, covered from head to toe in blood, a mix of his own and someone else’s. His eye was bloodshot and the dark skin around it had lightened up considerably. His lip had scarred over from where it was slit, leaving it a lighter shade than the rest of his mouth. 

The cuts on his chest turned to scars, and the bruises faded back to his natural skin color, only a few dark marks left on him that had yet to heal fully. You’re still in awe at how he can go from beaten and bloodied to almost completely recovered within a couple of weeks. Part of you hypes yourself up at how well you took care of him on the first night.

A shaky breath escapes you and your teary gaze meets his, watching the way his blue eyes soften at the sight of you. “My dad,” you start, wanting to wrap yourself in his arms and never leave. You wanted him to take you away and give you the life you were robbed of while growing up. “It’s my dad.”

“Okay,” he trails off, keeping you in his arms as he leads you over to the couch. “What about your dad?” 

He gently pushes you into a seated position on the couch before sitting next to you, putting a few inches of space in between so he wasn’t crowding you. You look over at him with guilty eyes, your vision more than slightly blurred due to the tears that have gathered along your waterline. Still, he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, his dark brows pressed together in concern, his eyes glossed over with worry and his lips parted slightly as he waited for you to say something. 

“I’m so sorry, Leon,” you begin quietly, hating how shaky your voice came out. You wished you were as strong as he was. “I got into a fight with my dad and I told him that I know about his job and what he does, and….I’m sorry, I know I promised I wouldn’t say anything but he was getting so controlling and aggressive and he…brought up my mom, I just couldn’t stay there anymore.”

Your rant was cut off as a sob escaped your mouth and that was all it took for Leon to move closer and wrap you back up in his arms. He wasn’t mad, no, not at you. He’d never be mad at you when it came down to you and your father. Without any hesitation, he’d be on your side within seconds. 

He was mad at Clark, not only for making you upset, but also for bringing up the sore subject of your mom. You had cried to Leon on more than one occasion about how much you missed her and how you wished you could’ve said goodbye. It wasn’t fair for your dad to bring her up when he was the one who was responsible for her death, but you didn’t need to know that just yet.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he rubs his hand up and down your back while his other tangles in your hair, holding your head against his chest. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” you cry. “I promised I wouldn’t say anything to him but I did it anyway. What if he finds out about you? Or us? Or how you were the one to tell me, or what if something happens to you? I’d never forgive myself-”

“Y/n,” he softly cuts you off and you fall silent, the quiet beats of his heart against your ear filling you with a small amount of much needed comfort. He didn’t know how to calm you down, didn’t know what to say that would make things better for you. All he could do was hope that you’d believe him and feel even the slightest bit at ease. He couldn’t stand to see you so upset, so unlike yourself. “Nothing is going to happen to me, okay? Do you hear me? I promise.”

Your tears didn’t stop as you asked, “What about us? Did I just ruin everything for us? What if my dad finds out that we’ve been sneaking around behind his back for almost a year now? He’d make sure I never see you again,”

Leon’s jaw tightened at that. “That won’t happen. He won’t take me away from you,” his words were almost enough to convince you. “He won’t take you away from me.”

“But how do you know that? How can you be so sure?”

“Because I love you, more than anything else in the world, and nothing can come between that. Nothing can get in the way of how I feel about you, not even your dad,” he says and you feel your heart skip a beat at his words, your tears stopping as you gaze up at him. “I don’t care that you told him that you know about his job, okay? Whatever comes from that, we’ll deal with it together. I just care about you.”

You bring a hand up to wipe your tears away, inching your face closer to his so you could brush your noses together. “I love you,” you say quietly and press your forehead to his. “So much. Nothing can take me away from you.” 

Damn right he felt like saying but feared he was beginning to come off as too possessive - not that he isn’t afraid to tell you just how much he loves you and plans for you to be with him for the rest of your lives, but still. There are certain times and certain places for that. 

Before Leon could say it back you had lifted yourself up and placed your hands on his shoulders, your chest now pressed to his. You close the gap even more by connecting your lips in a kiss, all the stress, anger, frustration, guilt and sadness from the day being poured into it.

It wasn’t the first time you came to him to get your mind off things, and it surely won’t be the last. 

He didn’t mind one bit, though, as he, too, has gone to you to relieve his stress more than a couple times now.

It was just how the two of you functioned. You would always be there for one another and are each other’s safe space. Neither of you would want to have it any other way, the trust between you so deep and strong and right. 

It always felt right. 

Leon wondered if there would ever be a right time for him to ask you the question he knew you’ve been wanting to hear for months now. 

The thought had his ears burning, his shoulders tensing and his mouth pulling away from yours before things become too heated. 

What better time than now?

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but before you could ask why he stopped, he kept one hand on your waist while his other reached into the box beside the couch. It was his ‘junk box’, his own take on the standard junk drawer everyone seemed to have in their house. While they were normally filled with random things - junk, to be exact - Leon’s was filled with the few items he brought with him when he left his parents house back when he was only seventeen. 

His first hunting knife, a gold coin from the arcade he used to love going to as a kid, an old polaroid of him and his first pet -  a dog he considered to be his closest friend from the ages five to sixteen (eleven years was not long enough in Leon’s opinion, but clearly it was too long in his dad’s) - his high school yearbook, and perhaps the most important item; his grandma’s ring. 

It had been passed down to his mother and then to him and he remembered the exact words she said when she handed him the box with the ring inside of it, “Hold onto this for me, will you? Find a nice girl, one who makes you truly happy, and give this to her when the time is right. Don’t wait too long, the good ones never last. And when you find her, don’t ever let her go. Don’t be like him.”

He would never be his father. 

He remembered packing the last of his things and giving one last look at his childhood room when she had wandered in, her hands tightly clasped around the box. She had been crying, likely because her only child was leaving for God knows how long, but she also couldn’t blame him. Leon’s dad was a miserable man, and he still probably is. He drank too much, gambled, and verbally abused his son until it became physical. She almost wanted him to go, to leave and never come back to the house that was the cause of so much of his pain.

She gave him a final kiss to the top of his head as he took the ring from her and then he left. 

That was over ten years ago. And he hadn’t seen his parents since. 

His mother had tried reaching out to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to return any of her calls or letters. He was living with a friend for a couple years after he left, and that was how she was able to send him various letters asking him how he was doing, if he was okay, and telling him that she missed him terribly. 

When he took the job to be a carrier for some sketchy guy across town, that was when he completely lost contact with her. She couldn’t send him any letters as she no longer knew where he was, or if he was even alive. 

There’s nothing he regretted more than how he ended things with his mom. If he could, he would relive all that childhood torment from his father just so he could leave again, but this time he would take her with him.

Then she could’ve possibly met you. If he never got himself caught up in the world of mobsters and murderers, would he have even met you? He liked to think so. 

If he didn’t meet you through your dad, he believes you would’ve met some other way. Maybe on one of the days you were able to leave the house and go into town, maybe then you would’ve run into each other on the street. Maybe then you both could live a normal life together. 

He holds the box in his hand, his nerves beginning to eat him alive as he lifts his head so he is looking up at you. 

Meanwhile, your heart was in your throat as you stared at the black casing, your hands fisting the dark shirt he was wearing. “Leon-”

You weren’t able to finish asking him what he was doing before he took his hand off your waist and opened the box, the silver ring now being on full display. Your quiet gasp fills the air as you can’t seem to take your eyes off it, the lamp on the side table making it sparkle just slightly. 

“Leon…” You say again but are ultimately left completely speechless. 

“I’ve been thinking about how to do this for months now, but I never knew when the timing would be right,” he said and you are finally able to tear your eyes off the ring and look into his. “I know now that the timing will always be right when I’m with you. There will never be a dull moment between us. There will never be a day that goes by where I won’t want to be with you and see you wear this. I’m so in love with you I feel like my heart physically aches when we’re apart. Just one week of knowing you was all I needed to know that you’re the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

A teary laugh escapes you as you shake your head, your eyes following the movement of his hand as he takes the ring out of the box.

“You’re the single most important person in my life and I can’t imagine a future without you in it. You are my future, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you more than life itself, and that’s why I feel safe asking you this,” he takes your hand in his, grinning slightly at the way you began to shake with unshed tears. “I know I’m going to be okay as long as I have you to keep me on the ground. You’ve seen me at my worst, and I promise you that you will see me at my best every day for the rest of our lives, if I can help it.”

You laugh again and tighten your right hand on his shoulder as he holds your left one.

“So, with that being said,” he held the ring between his fingers. “Will you marry me?”

The tears have made their escape down your face as you nodded quickly, wrapping your arms around him before he got the chance to put the ring on your finger. “Yes,” you say and press multiple kisses to his face, the last one being on his lips. 

-

Meanwhile, back at your house, your dad was in the den, the flame of the fire casting an orange hue across the entire room. He was sitting in his chair, his arms flat on the armrests and a glass of whisky in his hand. 

He couldn’t believe you. How could you turn your back to him after all he’s done for you? Did he really raise you like that? A spoiled, privileged brat?

What happened to his sweet and shy little girl? 

Who had corrupted you right before his very eyes? 

A knock on the doorframe carried that answer. “Sir? I got those files you wanted,” Nathan, one of his many men, says as he enters the room. 

“The ones on Kennedy?” 

“Yes, sir,” Nathan answers as he moves to stand in front of his boss. “I hope you don’t mind, but I read through a bit of his background. There’s some real shady stuff on this guy.”

One of Clark’s brows raised. “Like what?”

“Well, apparently he left home when he was a teen, practically a kid still, and took a job from Frank back when he was nineteen. He worked for him for a couple years before he seemingly disappeared and no one had heard from him for a while after that. I asked one of the guys he used to work with and he said that Kennedy had been working with someone named Redfield for the past five years now, and he was sure he still is.”

Clark’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his glass. “Redfield?” He asked and watched as Nathan nodded. “I don’t recall a Redfield working for me.”

“That’s the thing, this Chris guy is part of a mob that’s located across the state,”

“What are you saying?”

Nathan swallowed nervously as he held the files in his hands. “I think you’re being double-crossed, sir,”

Clark’s jaw tensed as he held out his free hand and grabbed the files from the younger man. “Not for much longer,” he muttered, downing the rest of the alcohol and opening the folder. “Thank you, Nathan. That’s all, you can go home.”

The man flees the room as Clark begins to sort through the countless pages that told him everything he needed, but somehow didn’t know about the man he trusted with his life, the same one he let into his house, and the same one he allowed to talk to his daughter. 

Leon Kennedy was a traitor. 

And Clark now was fully aware of who it was that turned his only child, his daughter, against him. 

It was only further confirmed when he shamelessly searched your room and came across the necklace that displayed Leon’s initials, the one you had carelessly forgotten to grab in your rush to leave.

[stardew-confessions]

krobus is the only person you can live with that the fandom doesn’t criticize. haley? you probably have a humiliation fetish. alex? he’s sexist. shane? he’s an alcoholic. penny? she’s boring. harvey/elliott? harvey’s boring, elliott’s pretentious, and most likely something about their ten heart events. sam? he’s immature. seb? he’s overrated. abigail? also overrated. emily? her heart events are too rushed. leah? dollar store robin. maru? she’s the reason seb’s depressed. which means krobus is obligatorily the best choice.

.