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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 months

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Bad Faith Part One

Masterlist | Part Two

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Rating: Mature (Part 2 will likely be explicit)

Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever. Welcome to part one of two!

There will ONLY be two parts! If you ask me at the end of part two where part three is, I'm going to point you back to this notes section!

If you asked me where part three is and you've been linked here, hi!

Length: 8k

Warnings: Angst. Angst angst angst angst; reader is going through a divorce; Reader's married surname is Hayward; unhealthy coping mechanisms; lovers to enemies to allies to lovers....did I mention angst by any chance? Cause—

Summary: There were so many resources about Steven Hayward from the last decade—interviews, profiles, filings. In all of them, Steven came off as a self-assured, cocky, pompous asshat, but a decent strategist. Those same profiles had described Mrs. Hayward as the trophy wife, the little woman behind the man, tending to the arrangements for their multi-million, 3,000 square foot penthouse overlooking Central Park. For as much as Harvey had forced himself to forget about her, he couldn’t forget her spirit, her determination, her desire to build a life, not to be handed one. None of the credit was given to her. None of the glory, none of the acknowledgement of what Harvey was certain were her blood, sweat and tears in that man’s holdings.

The tears that she had seemed set to shed in his office were all the indication that Harvey needed.

It was a long, harrowing moment of silence as Jessica processed all that you’d told her. You fought not to sniffle into the quiet, but your eyes had steadily been leaking tears for the last twenty minutes. Jessica finally stood from her armchair, patting you on the knee and murmuring, “You need a drink.”

You spluttered a weak laugh, watching her stride over to her luxe kitchen.

“Gin and tonic?”

“I would drink the gin straight at that point," You failed to tease.

“Things aren’t all that desperate yet.”

Yet. How reassuring.

You looked down at the damp, crumpled tissues in your hand before you raised one, dabbing at the few remaining tears. It was another few moments before you heard the click of Jessica’s heels crossing back to you.

“...Thanks for holding back.”

She frowned as you looked up at her, taking hold of the glass that she proffered.

“Holding back?”

“The I told you so.”

Jessica’s lips pursed, her head tipping with what you could only assume was a blend of indignance and pity.

“I did, for the record.”

“I know.”

“I told you nothing good could come from tangling your entire life up with that man.”

“You know, I think those were the exact words that you closed your toast out with at the wedding.” You took a swig, wincing at the overwhelming tang of gin. “Christ, that’s strong.”

“Too much?”

“No. It’s perfect, actually.”

Jessica smiled, lowering herself to sit beside you.

“Do you have lawyers in mind?”

“For the divorce? No.”

“I’ll give you recommendations.”

“I appreciate that, but that’s not why I’m here.” You glanced doggedly toward Jessica. “I need your help…Untangling a few holdings. Things that I can live off of, or break apart and sell for scraps. I can’t even afford a divorce lawyer right now—let alone whoever you’d suggest.”

“What?”

“Steven locked all of my credit cards and froze our joint bank account. I tried reaching out to him, but he won't answer me, and the bank won’t unfreeze it. He seems to think that I’m going to drain the entire thing.”

“Why does he think that?”

“Probably because that’s what he would do.” You sniffled, looking down into your glass. “I have some money in savings, but not a lot. Not enough for me to live off of beyond a few months.”

“Holy hell,” Jessica sighed. You grunted, head hanging as you felt the weight of her judgement. “Do you have any idea which entities you want to go after?”

“Yeah.” You set your drink down, reaching out to where you’d set your bag down and drawing out a bland beige file. You’d spent the morning working up your courage to come over and tell Jessica the awful truth, and had also spent that time putting together the data to do it. You flipped the file open and passed it over.

“This is every single property and holding company that I have my name on. I circled the apartment buildings that I want to sell, and the companies that I think would be best suited to my purposes.”

“Is Steven on all of these?”

“Only the ones that I put an asterisk beside, but I wouldn't be surprised if he came after the others.”

Jessica hummed, nodding. “You knew exactly what I’d ask for.”

“Well, I know you.”

She smiled, closing your file and setting it on her lap.

“Then I’m sure you know what I’m going to say next.”

The implication made your stomach churn with discomfort. You took the glass up again, taking a deep pull from it.

“I do,” You admitted, nose wrinkling again from the sharp juniper taste, “And I know that you’re going to say that it’s the best course of action—”

“The only course of action.”

“That’s patently untrue. You have more than one lawyer at your firm.”

“Not one that could handle a case of this magnitude.”

“Not even Louis?”

“Louis is like a french bulldog. Harvey is a pitbull.”

“You know, that’s actually a really harmful stereotype.”

Jessica’s brows lowered in chastisement, and you looked back down into your drink for safety.

“Wouldn’t it be a conflict of interest?” You added.

“How could it be? You’ve barely spoken to or looked at the man in eleven years.”

Eleven years. Had it really been that long?

“I know that you and Harvey parted on bad terms,” Jessica offered softly, and continued over your disbelieving scoff, “But you need to come out of this with the funds and the strength for a good divorce lawyer. Harvey can give you that.”

“What if he doesn’t take the case?”

“He will.”

“But if he doesn’t?”

“He will.”

“Jessica.”

“He won't have a choice.”

“Oh, he’ll love that. There’s nothing Harvey likes more than being backed in a corner."

“That’s when he comes out swinging the hardest.” She plucked the emptied glass out of your hand, heading toward the kitchen again. “Would you like another one?”

You sighed, slouching heavily against the couch and scrubbing your tired eyes.

“I’d really just like that bottle of gin—and a straw.”

“Would you stop fussing? You look fine.”

“I don’t care how I look,” You grumbled, though that didn’t stop you from reaching down and adjusting the skirt of your dress. You didn’t want to admit that Jessica was right, though you both knew that she was. She always had you nailed dead to rights, and that morning was no different.

You had a slight headache from the drinks you’d had at her apartment the night before, but it was hardly the worst hangover that you’d ever had. You were already two coffees in and you were itching for a third, but you already felt like shit. A third one would just make your heart pound harder, your hands more sweaty, and probably send your anxiety through the roof. You were certain the conversation you were about to have would do all of that for you, so no additional coffee was needed.

You drew in a deep breath, standing and tugging your dress down again as you walked over to look through out over the city. You could hear the ringing of phones behind you, the clicking of heels, the chatter of conversation. You were just waiting for his voice, waiting for his bravado to enter before he did, to suck the air out of the room.

“...What’d he say when you told him?” You asked.

“I haven't yet. I thought it would be more effective if we told him together.”

“So not only is he being forced to take my case, but it’s an ambush.” You cast Jessica an unimpressed sidelong glance, brows quirked in disbelief. She simply gave a small shrug.

“I know my associates.”

“Mm, I bet.”

“I understand I was summoned? Have I been so terribly missed? Whaddaya say we play hooky, go to the batting cages?”

There he was—each question was just punch after punch after punch. Your mouth and throat went dry as your body seemed to divert all available liquid assets to the sweat beginning to wet your palms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had company,” He added.

“It’s alright. Harvey, you know Mrs. Steven Hayward.”

Hayward. You had always hated the name. Hell, you couldn’t even believe you’d taken it, but you’d been so damn afraid of putting a foot wrong, wary of having someone change their mind again about marrying you.

You turned to face Harvey, leaning back against the window and folding your arms across your chest, pressing your slick palms to your sides. It shouldn't have been so vindicating to see Harvey looking so gobsmacked, to watch the color drain from his face as his eyes caught up with his mind—as he came to realize, yes, that Mrs. Steven Hayward.

“Mr. Specter,” You greeted flatly.

“I—What’s going on?”

It’s nice to see you, too. You bit the inside of your cheek to silence your snide remark.

“Mrs. Hayward needs to dissolve and sell a few of her holdings, and I told her that I had just the lawyer for the job,” Jessica announced.

“...Is that lawyer in the room with us?” Harvey shook his head a little.

“You are that lawyer. You’ll be taking the case pro-bono.”

“Pro—Jessica, those cases are reserved for people that actually need help, not for multi-millionaires.”

That stung in a way that it shouldn’t have—but he was right. There were surely cases that were more worthy of his attention. Still, you couldn't deny the fact that you needed his help, and that your pockets weren't nearly as deep as they used to be.

“My husband is the multi-millionaire, not me,” You argued.

“Bullshit.”

“You wanna see my bank statements? I have a little over three hundred in checking, a few thousand in savings.”

“Mrs. Hayward needs this resolved as quickly as possible, and without any of your usual pomp and circumstance,” Jessica cut in.

“Why don’t you do this through a divorce attorney?” Harvey pressed.

“Because right now, I can’t afford one.”

Harvey pursed his lips, looking between you and Jessica. You watched his jaw tick, saw the thick bob of his adam’s apple shift his collar a little.

“You have a list of holdings?” He asked, glancing toward you.

“Twenty,” You nodded.

“To be chopped up and sold for scraps?”

“Yes.”

“Seems a little ruthless for you.”

“It’s what needs to be done.”

“And you expect me to do it?”

“I expect you to do your job. If you can’t get over the fact that it’s for me, then you’re in the wrong business.”

Harvey’s gaze narrowed, his eyes darkening irritation. Oh, you knew that look—like it or not, you had a flash of it like it was yesterday.

“...Where’s the file.”

Jackpot.

“On the desk.”

You weren’t about to hand it to him. Hell—you weren’t about to hand anything to Harvey Specter on a silver fucking platter. He walked slowly to Jessica’s desk, eyes dropping to the file that had been thickened with information on each of the holdings. He opened it, gaze scanning your original sheet before flipping a couple of pages.

“I’ll need time to look this over,” He argued.

“Obviously.”

“I’ll call you.”

“Great.”

“Number still the same?”

Bastard.

“My new number is on the inside of the folder.”

“Great. Is there anything else that I should know?”

“Just that Steven and his cadre of sharks will likely stick their noses in the second they smell blood in the water.”

“We’ll be ready.”

“Good.”

Harvey gave you one last look, one long, sweeping, analyzing look before he turned away, striding out of Jessica’s office. You slowly released a long breath, shoulders untensing as he got further and further away. You lowered your hands, shaking them out and blowing cool air across your shaking, sweating palms.

“Are you sweating?” Jessica asked.

“Are you not? It’s boiling in here." You yanked your collar away from your neck, fanning over your heating skin.

“You can relax. He took the case.”

“Because he had to, not because he wanted to.”

“He’ll get over it, and he’ll do his job.”

“He’s such a grumpy asshole,” You sighed, walking over to the chair that you’d left your jacket and bag on. “But if you say you’re gonna keep him on the straight and narrow—”

“I will—”

“—Then I believe you. I’ve gotta go.”

“Where to?”

“I have to go look at an apartment.”

“Work never ends.”

“This is personal. I need to find a new place. I've been in a hotel for the last few nights, and I can't afford to keep that up."

“Don’t you own your place?”

You shook your head, averting your gaze as you pulled on your coat.

“The penthouse is in Steven’s name.”

You’d had a few hours to forget the weight of Jessica’s judgement, but you felt it again in full force as she shook her head.

“...I thought you were smarter than this,” She said after a moment.

You looked toward Jessica, giving her a small, weak smile. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Do you want me to call you a car? On the firm, of course.”

“No! No, but thanks. I should reacquaint myself with the subway. I’m going to be using it more often.”

You managed to hold it together until the real estate agent gave you a moment to ‘get a better sense of the space’. She clearly had no idea who you were, which was a boon, and hardly looked away from her phone as she waved with one hand and typed with the other thumb. You turned to look around, heard the snick of the door closing, and just…Lost it.

Your tears poured out like someone had reached into your head and turned on a faucet. You buried your face into your hands, uncaring of the fact that your makeup was going to run together. You’d given eleven years of your life to a man that was throwing you to the wolves, as if you’d never meant a thing to him at all—as if you hadn’t put your blood, sweat, and tears into building his empire—into what you had once thought was your empire, too.

And what the hell did you have to show for it? You stood in a $3,200 392 square foot studio apartment of a six-floor walk-up in the West Village, wearing a $4,900 dress, standing in $600 shoes, a your $1,200 purse shifting on your arm as your shoulders shook with sobs.

You sniffled roughly, chest hiccuping tightly as you finally began to calm. You reached into your purse, drawing out a compact and flipping it open. You swiped at your run makeup, taking up the pressed powder puff and dabbing beneath your eyes, and over the tear tracks in your foundation. God, just pull it together for the snot-nosed realtor outside. Tell her that you wanted to take it, get the keys, and start figuring out how you could get your things from Steven. You would need to make money in the meantime.

You looked down, shifting rocking back on your heels to get a better look at your shoes.

You never did love this outfit, and you couldn’t have worn it more than twice. Resale couldn’t be too far below purchase, could it? Come to think of it, you had closets full of hardly worn designer outfits at the penthouse. You looked around the studio. You could spring for a few wheeled clothing racks, find a few reputable resellers. You could get good money for your dresses, your shoes, probably even more for the jewelry that you almost certainly wouldn’t be keeping. Steven always had brought you home a trinket from the trips that he frequently took without you—beautiful gems that you knew now were trinkets for guilt, or something like it. You were almost certain Steven didn’t really feel guilt, but he could play-act at it well enough.

But you didn’t have to worry about that at that moment. And as soon as Steven did rear his ugly head, he would have Harvey to deal with. Considering your history, that shouldn't have been a very comfortable thought—but you had Harvey and Jessica in your corner.

You closed your eyes and drew in a deep breath, deeper than you were able to draw before. You held it for one...two...three...And pushed it out slowly as your heated face began to cool.

Deal with the realtor first. Sign the lease, get the keys, and start getting your life back together.

“This isn’t going to be an easy one," Harvey warned.

“Of course it isn’t. If it was, you wouldn’t have agreed to take the case.”

“I didn’t take it, it was given to me.”

“You poor thing.”

It left you without any sympathy, your gaze stone-heavy as you watched him. He narrowed his eyes, a smile set in place as he rocked back and forth in his chair. He tapped his pen on his lips for a moment before he rocked fully forward. You watched his gaze skate across the file in front of him.

“The way I see it, there are four easy wins here,” He turned the file toward you, and you scooted forward in your seat to get a better look at them. “The two apartment buildings on the upper East Side, the one in the Village, and the brownstone in Park Slope. We can hack away at the other sixteen down the road, but we should move on these.”

“Okay.”

“The easiest win is going to be in the Slope. The assessed value is…” His brows furrowed, and he leaned over the file and squinted, as if he wasn’t quite seeing the number correctly.

“Seven million?” You filled in. Harvey’s gaze darted to yours, brows raised.

“Nice chunk of change.”

“I want it listed for ten.”

“That may be a little unrealistic.”

“I’m looking for 8.5 in cash, if possible, so I’m expecting some haggling. I already told the broker as much.”

“Alright. Which of these buildings are you staying in?”

“I’m not staying in any of them.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not staying in any of them.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m pairing down, staying somewhere else.”

“You could stay in any of these rent-free.”

“The HOA and utilities are more than I can afford right now.”

“We could bake the HOA into the contract.”

“If Steven found out I was staying in any of them, he’d find a way to tank the deal from the outside.”

Harvey’s expression tightened a little before he nodded: “Fine. I’ll need your new address for the paperwork.”

“May I use your pen, please?”

Harvey pushed the file closer, passing the pen with it. You could feel him watching you as you jotted down your address, name, and number. Harvey draws the file back to himself, sweeping over the information.

“Keeping your married name?”

“I’ve put in the paperwork to change it, but that could take at least a couple of months.”

“I have a friend that clerks for the Supreme Court of New York, I could put in a word.”

“That’s a kind offer but don’t worry about it. Is there anything else that we need to discuss today?”

“No, that about covers it. I’ll call you if our real estate department or my associate comes across anything that could be beneficial to your situation.”

“I may have just uncovered something.”

You turned at the sound of a new voice, catching sight of a young man standing in the doorway.

“This is Mike Ross, my associate,” Harvey introduced, standing and holding a hand out toward Mike. “Mike Ross, this is Mrs. Steven Hayward.”

Your name left him with a vinegary annoyance that you’d been hoping would be absent from this meeting. You stood, holding out your hand and offering Mike your first name.

“Would you prefer to be, uh..." Mike’s gaze darted between you and Harvey.

“I’d prefer you not to use my married name, if possible.”

“Got it. So,” Mike stepped between you and Harvey, opening the file that he was holding. “I’ve found an additional six properties where your name is the only one on the lease.”

You frowned, brow furrowing as you stepped closer to get a look at the file. “That can’t be right.”

“If Mike found it, it’s right.” There was an irritated thread of steel in Harvey’s tone, and you shot him a scathing glance.

“The comment was one of surprise, not distrust.”

“Maybe next time you can keep your surprise to yourself and let my associate speak.”

“Just like you’re letting him speak right now?”

Harvey’s jaw went tight, and you raised your brows as a knowing smirk curled your lips before you turned back to Mike and nodded:

“You were saying?”

Mike’s expression was riddled with confusion, but he snapped back into action.

“Right—There are, uh…Three complexes in downtown Brooklyn,” He shifted through the stack of papers and drew out photos. “They were gutted for renovation, but work was stopped before any further changes could be made. They cited funding concerns.”

That really couldn’t be right. Steven was rolling in cash like a pig in shit. You took hold of the photos, frown deepening as you got a better look at them.

“What is it?” Harvey pressed.

“I don’t recognize any of these.” You flipped to the next one, then the next. The walls in all of them had been stripped; the floors were torn up; the wiring of the ceiling was exposed.

“What about the other three?” You pressed.

“Uh—One house in the Hamptons, one in Cape Cod, and one in Gstaad.”

“You’re kidding,” You said flatly, looking at MIke.

“I am not. I take it you don’t know about any of those, either?”

“Not a one.”

“Would you want any of them?”

“Maybe Cape Cod.”

“Not Gstaad?” Harvey asked.

“Mm, not worth it. I don’t know how to ski.”

“Still?”

You rolled your eyes pointedly before you nodded back to Mike’s file. “Do you have the paperwork for the properties?” “Yeah, it’s, uh…” He set the file down, sifting through for the paper clipped documents and lining them up on Harvey's desk. “These are…All of them…Separated out by property.”

You went down the line, flipping through each of the pages and growing more and more frantic as you did.

“None of these are my signature.”

“He would’ve closed through a title company, I can hunt that down,” Mike commented to Harvey.

“We can throw these on the list of what needs to be sold, or put them in a living trust,” Harvey offered.

“...I don't know,” You leaned away, shaking your head. You felt so unsettled; after the rapid upheaval of your life over the last week you weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. After this, you had to worry about the divorce, the tabloids, whatever the fuck else you were going to do with your life—You felt your throat going tight with tears, and you cleared your throat harshly, trying to dispel some of the feeling. “If they were good investments, Steven would’ve used his name on them.”

“All the more reason for you to ditch them.”

“I want them inspected first. I’m not throwing these on the market until I know what the hell I’m dealing with.”

“We can take care of that,” Mike promised. You nodded, glancing toward him and offering a tight, grateful smile.

“Not that you’re paying us to.”

Harvey’s snide reminder was like having a bucket of cold water poured over you. Your hands curled into fists where they rested on your hips. You were just on the edge of slapping the guy—

“You can deal with me directly,” You offered Mike. “My number’s in the file. Thank you, for—” You waved your hand toward the file. “Uncovering this. I appreciate it.” You took up your purse and threw your coat over your arm, trying to hold back your rapidly rising tears as your face flooded with heat.

“You’re just going to go?” Harvey asked.

“It’s always worked for you pretty well,” You snapped. “Figured I’d give it a try.” You stormed out without another word, keeping your gaze staunchly set on the floor that you desperately wanted to sink through.

“I have…So many questions right now,” Mike shook his head as he watched Mrs. Hayward stride toward the elevators.

“You know where to start. Get the inspections lined up, and then start prepping the filings for forgery—”

“Harvey,” Mike raised his hands, chuckling with shock. “What—Was that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. The whole ‘if Mike found it it’s right’?”

“Well, that’s true.”

“That thing about her still not being able to ski? How do you know her?”

“We’ve met, that’s all.”

“It’s obviously more than that.” Mike searched Harvey’s gaze for a few moments. “C’mon, what’s your deal?”

Harvey considered for a moment, his jaw working before he nodded to the right. “Close the door.”

He lowered himself into his seat as Mike did as he asked, then turned back to him.

“Mrs. Hayward and I…” Harvey’s expression tightened as he struggled with it. “We were…Involved for a while.”

“While she was married?”

“Before.”

“How involved?”

“We were engaged.”

Mike’s eyes widened drastically, his brows making a jump toward his hairline. “En—What?” He laughed breathlessly. “The great Harvey Specter was almost nailed by that ice queen?”

“Watch it,” Harvey warned; he was stunned as he felt a flair of protectiveness bloom in his chest. “She wasn’t always like that.” He glanced toward the property statements at the front of his desk, and he thought of the dismayed twist of her features. When she’d met his gaze, her eyes had been bright with tears. Maybe that was his fault, at least a little. He should’ve watched his tone a little more. He had surely made her cry enough, years ago.

“What happened?” Mike pressed.

“I wasn’t ready.”

“You broke it off?”

“...Something like that.”

Harvey’s gaze flitted nervously toward Mike, and he could practically hear the wheels turning overtime in his head. It only took a moment before Mike’s eyes managed to widen further, his jaw dropping open in shock.

“Oh my—There is no way.”

“I’m not proud of it,” Harvey raised a hand to stop Mike’s incredulous questioning.

“Let me just make sure I’m on the same page here,” Mike shook his head. “You left her at the altar, she married this guy, and now you’re…Making jokes about the fact that she can’t ski or afford a lawyer?”

Harvey’s heart sank into his stomach as he cut an irritated gaze across the desk.

“I’m not proud of that, either.”

“Didn’t stop you, though, did it.”

“Are you finished with your lecture? Because you have a lot of work to do.”

“On it,” Mike nodded, hopping out of his seat and restacking the paperwork into the file.

“While you’re at it, keep your ear to the ground on that Park Slope property. The sooner the wheels are turning on that, the better. Use that number,” He tapped the file, “To call her, and send any documents to that address.”

“Understood.”

Harvey listened to Mike’s retreating footsteps as he twisted back and forth in his seat, restless in his discomfort. He pushed himself out of his seat in annoyance, unable to stand sitting anymore. Why had he shot his mouth off at her like that? He knew that she was going through it. He just figured when he’d first seen her in Jessica’s office that this situation wouldn’t be quite so hellish.

Steven Hayward was a billionaire, a former Forbes 30 Under 30 recipient. Harvey had done his digging when the engagement had first been announced—just a few months after Harvey had made the decision not to marry her. He’d assumed then that if she’d moved on so quickly, she couldn’t have loved him much in the first place, and the idea had solidified his decision not to go through with their wedding.

Harvey had done his best to put her out of his mind, and he’d succeeded for the most part. But when Jessica had thrown this case at him, he’d gone back, done some more digging. There were so many resources about Steven Hayward from the last decade—interviews, profiles, filings. In all of them, Steven came off as a self-assured, cocky, pompous asshat, but a decent strategist. Those same profiles had described Mrs. Hayward as the trophy wife, the little woman behind the man, tending to the arrangements for their multi-million, 3,000 square foot penthouse overlooking Central Park. For as much as Harvey had forced himself to forget about her, he couldn’t forget her spirit, her determination, her desire to build a life, not to be handed one. None of the credit was given to her. None of the glory, none of the acknowledgement of what Harvey was certain were her blood, sweat and tears in that man’s holdings.

The tears that she had seemed set to shed in his office were all the indication that Harvey needed. He scrubbed his hand across his face, trying to compose himself as he pushed the wounded memory of her away.

Even footing. He needed to get the two of them on some kind of even footing. Every conversation couldn’t be a fight—it would just slow the both of them down. The sooner they sorted this out, the sooner they’d be out of one another’s hair.

“Donna!” He called out, turning toward the door. Donna popped her head in a moment later, brows raised expectantly. “I need you to look an address up for me.”

“It’s in the West Village.”

Harvey’s mouth worked wordlessly for a couple of seconds before he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, “Mike?”

“You shouldn’t have hired a super genius if you didn’t want him using that big brain.”

“I was hoping he would use it for good, not evil.”

“Oh, trust me, he is. Anything else?”

“Lunch?”

“It’s on the way.”

Of course it was.

“This is everything?”

“Yes. I checked and double-checked the list that you gave me before I left.”

You nodded, planting your hands on your hips and looking over six industrial-sized trash bags that contained what you hoped were your tide-over funds.

“The jewelry’s in there, too?”

“Hey,” Aaron stepped closer to you, resting his hand on your shoulder. “When I say I got everything, I mean I got everything. I was this close to snagging a couple of light fixtures.”

You laughed a little, nodding and leaning into the touch a little. You’d worked with Aaron Delaney for over five years at Hayward Realty. You’d hoped that he wouldn’t be in Steven’s camp in the divorce, and when you’d reached out to find out when Steven would definitely be at the office, Aaron had quickly jumped on your bandwagon. It had taken nearly three weeks, but he had come through. Not only had he told you when Steven would be out, but he’d offered to go into the apartment and get things for you. You hadn’t heard a thing from Mike in a couple of weeks, so you could only hope that everything was going smoothly on his end, but these bags would go a long way to bolstering your bitten budget.

“You want my help cataloging it?” He offered. You shook your head a little.

“No, god, you've done enough—and helped me lug this up six flights. Besides, Steven will be suspicious if you’re out of the office for too long—you’re too good an employee to be out of pocket for more than a few minutes. But if you’d like to be enlisted in mole duty going forward, I’m gonna need you to have your ear to the ground over there.”

“You’ve got it.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Text me if you need anything.”

“Will do, yeah. And thanks again, Aaron. Seriously.”

“Keep your chin up, hon.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled, turning back to the trash bags as Aaron headed for the door. God, you didn’t even know what was where. It was probably best to just go bag by bag, and hope all of the suits were together. You could hang the outfits up, take a picture, post it on the app that you were using to resell your luxury clothing. You could—and probably would—keep at least a couple of things for yourself, but you couldn’t go crazy. You’d need suits for your divorce settlement, and possibly for court…And for whatever the hell you wound up doing once this was all over.

Because it would be over, eventually. There was a life for you on the other side of all of this, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that. Things would get easier, but right now, it all just…Fucking sucked. You had moved the few things that you had into the studio apartment, including your dresser, a bookshelf, a few books, and your favorite Eames lounge chair and reading lamp. You’d had to get a new bed—a full was all that you could use without overwhelming the space; you got a metal frame on Amazon that would get the job done, and you’d bought and built three racks for your clothing. You still hadn’t found an affordable couch, but you had found a nice oak grain bedside table on the sidewalk, with a handwritten looseleaf sign taped to it that read, FREE!!

You hadn’t had the chance to paint or put any personalizing touches on the space besides your furniture—no art, or knick knacks. The space was nearing functional, but you were certain that unpacking all of your clothing was going to make that a hell of a lot more difficult.

You crouched down in front of the first bag, untying it and opening it. You could see some Scanlan Theodore, some Tuckernuck, some Bergdorf Goodman. This bag was already pretty promising. You sighed, taking the first dress out and wafting the fabric out. It didn’t need to be ironed or steamed, which was a blessing. You were already dreading how long this was going to take, but hell, at least it would give you something to do that wasn’t staring down the barrel of your dead-end future—

Okay. Okay, so not helpful, so not the time. You reached into your pocket, pulling your phone out of your pocket to find a podcast to listen to. There had to be something that you could listen to that would distract you from the monotony of filing and sorting your clothing out. You settled on one of your favorites before you began sorting through the first bag. You were right—a couple of Scanlans, two Tuckernucks, three Bergdorf Goodman’s–

Your sorting was interrupted by a knock on your door. You frowned, pushing yourself up. What else could be left? It had to be good if Aaron had lugged something else up six floors. You pushed yourself off of the floor, brushing the dust off of your sweatpants.

“Alright, Delaney, what’d you forget?” You asked as you approached the door and tugged it open.

The sight of Harvey Specter standing on your doorstep made your stomach want to violently unseat your lunch. His gaze swept over you critically, taking sight of you in your comfy clothes. Between the ratty old shirt, the sweats, and your fluffy socks, you were a far, far cry from the way that he’d become accustomed to seeing you in his office.

“Can I, uh…” He peered over your shoulder, nodding inside. “Can I come in?”

“I thought I was going to be hearing from Mr. Ross.”

“Mike is busy, and we need to talk.”

You couldn’t imagine what the hell you and Harvey needed to talk about. You didn’t want to let him in; you knew that what Harvey was about to see wasn’t what he was surely expecting. Your grip tightened on the handle before you drew in a deep breath nodding, “Sure.”

It was worse than you imagined. Harvey hardly got two steps inside before he stopped fully. Well, to be fair, there wasn’t a ton of space for him to wander around and explore; between the bed, the armchair, and the trash bags, there wasn’t much room for him to move around. You shut the door and pointedly cleared your throat, trying to jog him from his shock. As he faced you again, you could see him trying to mask his surprise, his brows drawing down over his eyes as he turned to a file in his hand.

“You have an offer on the Park Slope house.”

“Why didn’t I get a call from my broker?”

“I asked to deliver the news myself.”

You frowned a little, taking hold of the file and flipping it open. Your eyes widened at the sight of a check paperclipped to the top of the files—for frighteningly beneath asking price.

“I said I wanted it in cash.”

“...I know that,” Harvey spoke slowly, as if he was dealing with a particularly difficult and over-caffeinated child. “That is a good faith deposit from the buyer.”

“They’ve signed?” Your hands tighten around the file as your stomach flipped with excitement. “I didn’t ask my broker for a good faith deposit.”

“No, I had it baked into the contract.”

Your gaze flitted to Harvey, annoyance and admiration growing in equal measure.

“I…Appreciate that,” You finally managed. “But in the future, please run any changes like that by me before you speak to my broker.”

Harvey nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Understood.”

“Thanks.” You closed to file, certain that if you didn’t, you’d just spend your time staring at the check—at your first lifeline in this whole mess. “Anything else?”

“We need to get on a more even footing.”

“...I don’t know what you mean.”

Harvey gave you a chastising frown, one that would’ve made you wilt long ago—but now, you simply shook your head and shrugged.

“I don’t,” You insisted. “Unless you mean that you’ll stop out your thinly veiled barbs about what you think you know about me.”

“I remember more than you think.”

“I’m not the woman that you left at the altar, Harvey.” Your admission and reminder left a bitter taste in your mouth. You had to force yourself to hold his gaze, even as his expression flooded with discomfort. You could see him desperately trying to push it away as his retort bubbled up:

“And I’m not the man that left you there!”

“No?” You laughed openly. “Because this all looks pretty fucking familiar. You’re a shark, Harvey, and you’re a dick. Lucky for the both of us, that’s exactly what I need you to be right now.”

Harvey’s jaw tightened, and you could see his hands curling into fists before he shoved them into his pockets.

“Let’s get one thing perfectly clear,” He seethed, taking a small step closer, “What I do for you over the course of this case is purely because of my reputation in this city. I’m going to do my damndest to get you the best out of all of these properties, but do not think for a moment that the job I do comes from any interest, any compassion, anything worth a damn.”

“What compassion? Anyone with compassion would’ve at least had the grace to do better than a goddamn post-it note in my bridal suite that just said ‘sorry’. It didn't even look like your handwriting!” You loosed a hysterical laugh that had been building in your throat as he spoke. “Or did you not even want that in there? Maybe one of my bridesmaids scrawled it to keep me from just throwing myself off the fucking roof!”

Harvey’s expression flickered again, and you saw some of the color drain from his annoyance-flushed cheeks. You turned away, stomach roiling with embarrassment and irritation.

“Thanks for the file,” You managed, forcing a steadiness into your tone. “Going forward, I really do think it’s for the best that you communicate with me through Mr. Ross.”

“Gladly. Have a nice day, Mrs. Hayward.”

Three long strides, the creak of the door opening, and then slamming shut. You flinched at the sound, fingers tightening around the file, trying to focus on the check.

One hundred thousand dollars was an amazing start. One hundred thousand dollars could go toward your rent, your expenses, buy you some time. Maybe you could get a nice bottle of gin—or a couple of the cheap bottles the size of your head, the stuff that tasted like paint thinner and knocked you flat on your ass until morning.

Maybe you could sell your clothing during the day and quietly slip into oblivion in the evening. You had nothing better to do with your nights. Almost none of your so-called friends had reached out after the news had broken—likely making the choice to side with Steven. He was the one that still had the money, of course, the position in society. His name was on the door, not yours.

Your name was on a 12 month lease, and on a check for one hundred thousand dollars.

sorry

Lowercase, hurriedly scrawled, ink smudged. You could still see the slightly crumpled post-it that had been sitting on your honeymoon suite vanity when you’d returned after waiting at the back of the venue for almost an hour.

Harvey hadn’t copped to writing it. Maybe he didn’t want to—or maybe he really didn’t write it. Maybe he wasn’t sorry. Maybe he saw the shitshow that your life had become and was glad that he’d gotten out early.

You glanced around the apartment, eyeing the row of trash bags, the rickety furniture. At this moment, you couldn’t blame him.

You tossed the file onto your bedside table before walking back to the trash bags. Bag by bag, then steam what needed to be steam, then sort by brand. Plan of attack. You could get that man out of your head.

That man—which one was worse to think about just now—Steven or Harvey?

You shook your head, forcing yourself to dismiss both of them for the morning. You didn’t have any more time for what could’ve been’s. You had here, you had now.

And you had shit to do.

“Okay, two things,” Mike announced as he rounded into Harvey’s office. “One, the purchase agreement for the brownstone is signed and the payment is on the way to her bank account. There’s also an offer for the apartment building in the upper East Side. Two—“

“What do you mean, two?” Harvey frowned. “That’s already two things.”

“Fine, three—“

“Super genius and he can’t even count—“

“I got six emails from Steven Hayward’s representation this morning, disputing ownership of all of the twenty original flagged properties.”

“Damnit,” Harvey hissed. “Even the houses she didn’t know about?”

“No, so far, they’ve been conspicuously left off of the list.”

“Where are we with those inspections?”

“In progress, should hear back by the end of the week.”

“Good.”

Mike nodded, and Harvey returned his attention to his laptop. At least, he did until he realized that Mike hadn’t left the room.

“Something else that you need to say?” Harvey prodded.

“Aren’t you going to ask how she is?”

“Why would I need to know that?”

“Come on, Harvey.”

“She’s a client, Mike.”

“A client that you were going to marry!”

“And I didn’t marry her. What do you think that says about my wealth of feeling for her?”

Mike sighed heavily through his nose, muttering, “Alright.” He began to turn away, heading for the door. “Well, if you had asked, I would’ve told you that she’s putting on a brave face, but she’s getting to the end of her rope.”

“Well I didn’t ask, but thank you for that poetic and poignant diagnosis.”

“You have to go.”

“Of all of my priorities right now, the gala is not one of them,” You insisted. “I’ve got about a hundred more urgent matters right now.”

“Make this one,” Jessica insisted, leaning back against her desk, her arms folding across her chest. “You know how badly you’ll be lampooned if you don't turn up.”

“And I’ll be lampooned if I do show up. Besides, I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Wear something you’ve worn before.”

“I don’t have most of those pieces anymore.”

“Then rent something.”

“You do remember that Steven is being honored this year?”

“All the more reason for you to show your face.”

“Jessica—“

“What’s your plan.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your plan—when this is all over? Are you going to go back into real estate?”

“…It’s crossed my mind.”

“You know that they will never let you back in if you slink out the back door and try to come in through the front again. They’ve rescinded your keys, honey. May as well stay in the house as long as you can.”

“This metaphor is beginning to exhaust me.”

Jessica grinned. “I better see your name on the RSVP list by the end of the day.”

“Since when do you have access to that information?”

“I have my sources.”

You heard two knocks, followed by the increasingly comforting sound of Mike’s voice: “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Not at all,” Jessica waved him inside. “I’m hoping for a fruitful update.”

“Well,” Mike gave a small, nervous smile as he joined the two of you. “The good news is that purchase for the brownstone is moving through the channels, and there are interested buyers for the upper East Side apartment building. Unfortunately —“ The word made your gut swoop. “—Your ex-husband has come out of the woodwork. He’s trying to stake a claim on the properties, and on a hold co. We’re monitoring the situation,” Mike added before either you or Jessica could speak, “But I wanted to make you aware of what you could be facing sometime soon.”

You nodded, wringing your hands where they were folded in your lap.

“I appreciate the update.”

“Of course.”

“Why isn’t Harvey relaying this to me himself?” Jessica frowned. You raised your brows, glancing toward Mike, and fighting back a wave of amusement at his blatant deer-in-headlines expression.

“He had a—meeting,” He flubbed before jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I should, uh–”

Jessica’s brows raise skeptically, but she nods, and you bite back a laugh as Mike leaves the room with a measured hurry.

“...Why do I have the feeling that the two of you are keeping something from me?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” You shrugged, pushing yourself out of your seat. “Now if you excuse me, I have some clothes to package—”

“And a gala outfit to find. I understand.”

You turned from Jessica’s smug grin, rolling your eyes as she tacked on,

“And don’t forget to get your nails done!”

You rounded out of the office, pulling up short as you slammed into someone.

“Oh! Fuck, sorry!” You breathed as their hands landed on your hips to steady you.

“...Don’t worry about it.” Harvey’s flat tone turned your stomach. You cleared your throat, stepping back and out of his hands.

“I’ll watch where I’m going.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You gave a firm nod as you skirted around him, face flooding with embarrassed heat as you strode toward the elevators.

The gala. You’d completely forgotten about the gala until Jessica had brought it up. Six months ago, planning the evening had been the center of your world. You’d put a deposit down for a custom dress, had it fitted. Steven had asked you to coordinate a cocktail party for the two hours beforehand—an intimate gathering for 150 of your closest friends and associates. You sighed, leaning back against the hard subway seat and gazing at your appearance in the window opposite you.

You could just see it now—the who’s who of New York’s real estate scene all swanning up to the penthouse, lounging fashionably, eating the hors d'oeuvres that you’d chosen and drinking the champagne that you’d ordered by the case…

…The champagne that you had ordered…

Come to think of it, those contracts all had your name on them, your contact information. Steven hadn’t been involved with a damn thing, save for the use of his credit card to put down deposits. He never did—he expected you to handle all of the coordination on the day as well; he would swan in an hour after the party started and do his scant duties as the host.

A devilish grin curled your lips. You were sure you still had all of the confirmations in your email. You could cancel all of it—the ice sculpture, the caterer, the champagne…Well, maybe you could divert one case to your new apartment, and cancel the rest.

Oh, you could really see it now—Steven seething as he frantically checked his emails for any hint of vendors, any phone number or email that he could call to find out what the hell happened to the party that was to-be. You were certain that the tailor still had your dress—and you had a check for a hundred thousand dollars that you could dip into for a manicure.

You stood as the train pulled into your station. You were suddenly looking forward to the gala.

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @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

#Harvey Specter x Reader #Harvey Specter x You #Harvey Specter/Reader #Harvey Specter/You #Harvey Specter fic #Harvey Specter imagine #Bad Faith

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be-missed · 6 months

Text

Cool About It

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

Summary: Jenna and Y/N are life-long best friends, but can Y/N still stand and hide her feelings after Jenna pulled a prank on her?

Warning/s: curse words, notify me if there are any.

A/N: Hi, hope this can be a good substitute for Chap 4 of Not Strong Enough. Enjoy! (clearing things out, this is not the Chapter 4 for Not Strong Enough, this is just a substitute story for you all, so that you have something to read while waiting for the Chapter 4 for Not Strong Enough.)

Masterlist

Nothing To Lose (Part 2) | Bad for Business (Part 3)

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"Come on it'll be fun, we can walk around the park and then ride the boat." Jenna explained while lying down in Y/N's bed and scrolling through her phone.

Y/N looked at her with a questioning look and said "Isn't that a bad idea? Because people might hover over us and people will just follow us and that is something that my anxiety can't handle."

"Noooo, pleaseee. This is a good idea, it's a Thursday afternoon, nobody or only least people will be at the park." Jenna answered, pouting.

"Jenna, stop." Y/N said with a smile on her face "You know it's hard for me when you do that."

Ans Jenna just smiled because she knows that Y/N is so close to going "Pleeaasseeee, pretty pleaseeee. I'll buy you an ice cream." Jenna proposed.

"Hmm, you think an ice cream can make me agree with your plan, huh?" Y/N answered.

"Yes, I know that you will agree to me sooner. Just imagine us binding after such a long time of not seeing each other. Also, may I remind you that I'll be leaving the country in December to film for Wednesday so this is a great time to spend with me before we get situated again in face time." Jenna is now showing Y/N a sad face.

Jenna's statement made Y/N wonder, that yes, it is true that Jenna's break will be over soon, meaning that she will be receiving a call or a message from Jenna during ungodly times which, she diligently answers, whether it may be a call or a message.

Y/N sighs and Jenna knows that y/N will now agree with her plan. But before Y/N agrees, Jenna started to jump in Y/N's bed and smiles at Y/N.

"You know me so fucking well Jenna Marie Ortega." Y/N said while scratching her brow "Yes, sure we'll go to the park."

And then Jenna went ot hug Y/N and delivers ton of kisses on Y/N's face.

Y/N thought, "Fucking hell, how can I disagree with this girl. If she tells me to jump on a tall something, I would even do some back flips. She wants me to run around New York City? I would do it with my tits out. She want me to marry her and be the mother of her children? I will for sure do that without a doubt. The last part, is a false hope. I know Jenna isn't into me since the first time that I met her."

"Okay, collect your things and get dressed, we're going to Central Park." Y/N said and taps Jenna's crown and smiled at her like a cute puppy.

Even if Jenna and Y/N are together, they will literally wear the headphones that they bought for each other, just to drown out their environment. But even the noise cancelling headphone can't stop them to communicate with each other. After knowing each other so well for years, they don't need to communicate verbally.

While walking, Y/N then got lost again with her own thoughts. She feels that Jenna knows that she likes her more than a best friend should have for quite some time now. That is why in the past few months, Y/N has been getting a lot more "busier" when it comes to Jenna. She tries so hard to detach herself from the girl. If Jenna won't be kind enough to be cruel about it and just reject her, then Y/N will try to be cool about it even though it's probably not even true.

Arriving at Central Park, the two girls started to walk nonchalantly, going where their feet take them, not caring about the people that took notice of them.

They sometime give snacks to the pigeons or the ducks that they passed by, try to pet the dog that was sitting beside their owner. Taking a look at thier surroundings, both of them realised that a lot from the park changed, the becnhes that were once there, the trees thatvwere cut out and displaced by another plant, and the rusts on the bench that they always pass by.

Y/N was walking not until Jenna stopped by the row boat rentals and Y/N just moved her head from side to side "Nuh uh, Jenna. We won't and we can't." Y/N said.

"But why? We used to ride the boats and just row around, pretending to be a part of a rowing team." Jenna stated pulling at Y/N's sleeve.

"Jen, that was before." Y/N reasoned.

Jenna looked sad "Do you not want to be seen with me? Is that it?"

That was the last thing that Y/N wants Jenna to think of because it is not true.

"No, absolutely not. I just think that..." Y/N said not knowing any reason on why not to ride the boat.

"See you have no reasons to not ride it. So please let's ride the boat." Jenna said, and with that they got a boat, just the two of them and started to row.

Many people are also in their own boat, talking, playing, laughing and admired their surroundings. Also, Y/N and Jenna's boat didn't get unnoticed by the people in the park or inside the boat. People were waving at them and calling Jenna's name. Jenna waved back or replied to them but her focus was still focused on you, not until you hear Jenna coughed.

Many boats surrounds you as this is where one of the good spots for a picture. It means that many people also surrounds you and can literally hear each other.

"Mhmm, Y/N, I don’t know where to start..." Jenna said with a smirk ok her face and Y/N didn't know what's going on, Jenna then continued "We have known each other for a lot of years, we have been with each other through our ups and downs and we are still here." Jenna then secretly took the ring from her pointer finger and present it in front of you.

Now. Now Y/N is so baffled with what is Jenna doing, people started to look at them and paid attention to what is happening inside their boat. Even the people who are in land started to stop and watch the scene unfolding in front of them.

"I have loved you ever since I met you and I want to love you 'till the day I die. I just want to ask if, will you marry me?" Jenna got up from her seat and started to kneel with her right knee.

Y/N's thoughts are all over. Why is Jenna fucking doing this? Is this her way to fucking play with her feelings? Is this all a joke to Jenna? She wants Jenna to be cruel about it and just reject her but not this way, Y/N will try her best to be cool about it even if it's not, but this stunt? Y/N didn't know if she can still see Jenna and not say some hurtful things towards the girl.

Everyone around them started to cheer and fished their phone out to capture this moment, because hell, Jenna Ortega is proposing. Flashing of lights where delivered from each phone that is hanging out, hollers and congratulations can be heard in different directions, claps can be heard everywhere and that triggered Y/N.

It was so loud around her, and why the fuck is Jenna proposing to her.

"Jenna I need to get out." Y/N said.

"What do you mean?" Jenna started to see the panic in Y/N's eyes.

"Fuck Jenna I need to get out of here" Y/N stated and started to row the boat in a faster pace that forced Jenna to take a seat.

As the boat started to get near the dock, Y/N didn't gave Jenna a time to talk and bolted away. Away from the girl, away from the people, and away from the world.

---

Many hours has passed but Jenna can't still contact Y/N. Jenna even waited in front of Y/N's front door for hours but there were no signs of her best friend.

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A/N: Hoped this is good enough. Thoughts and comments are open, thanks for reading!

Nothing To Lose (part 2)

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #fanfic #fiction #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader

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simvanie · 10 days

Text

7 Sins Legacy - generation 4 (pride)

Supriya's wedding dress arrived in time for the wedding and it was better than she could have ever imagined. The wedding took place in Myshuno Meadows central park that had been completely transformed to accommodate one of the biggest weddings in this legacy so far. They had invited over 30 guests (which is quite a lot in sims terms, because imagine trying to get all these guests to behave when you just want your sims to get married), and by the time everyone had arrived and was sort of seated, the sun was already setting. But this turned out the best scenario because the sunset made the sky turn all shades of pink an purple. It was dark at the end of the ceremony when the fireworks went off which just looked amazing.

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yelenasdiary · 3 months

Note

Heya! Some fluff for valentines. Yelena and reader go to a department store and fill baskets for each other with the others favorite things and at the bottom of readers basket is a beautiful ring that Yelena proposes with

Macaronly Have Eyes for You

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary: You were able to get Yelena do to one of your Valentine’s Day activities that came with a surprise of its own.

Fluff, Fluff & FLUFF!!

Translations: Detka (baby), Ты выйдешь за меня? (will you marry me),

Warnings: None | 1.4K

AC: I loved this idea so much and it was perfect for the photo that came up on my twitter feed that made me want to write something Yelena x Reader about!! Thank you for sending this & I hope you enjoy it!! x

Cupid's Dream Masterlist

"So, I'm just filling this up with things I think you'd like?" Yelena asked as you both grabbed a Walmart basket. You smiled softly, "Yeah! We have 30 minutes, and we can't show any of to each other until we get home" you explained with an exciting tone. Yelena nodded while her brain thought of all the things, she could possibly get for you, "I'll meet you back at the car, oh and don't forget to get a gift box to use at the checkout" you added before giving the blonde a soft peck on her lips and walking away.

Yelena watched as you wondered down an aisle before she turned on her feet and made her way to the confessionary aisle. She started off with the easy items, adding a few of your favorite chocolates and candy to the basket along with a couple of bottles of your favorite drink. She then made her way to the clothing area and grabbed the sweater that you were unsure of buying the last time the two of you were at Walmart.

The first item you put in your basket was the easiest thing anybody who knew Yelena could think of. A box of Mac & Cheese paired with her favorite bottle of hot sauce. As you were making your way out of the aisle, the cheesiest thing caught your eye. A small plushie in the shape of a macaroni pasta. "Oh, she's going to hate this" you chuckled to yourself as you placed it in your basket.

You met Yelena back at the car, she was leaning against the driver's door waiting patiently for you. "You're going to love what I got you!" You said excitedly as you placed the gift box of goodies in the back seat. "You have that look" Yelena replied as the two of you got into the car.

"What look?" You asked, playing off any suspicious look you might have had.

"The look at says you've been up to no good" Yelena replied with a chuckle as she started the car. "I am excited to show you what I got you, you're going to hate it so much you'll love it!" You said, confusing the blonde.

Yelena pulled out of the parking lot and began the journey back to your shared apartment. Your excitement only grew bigger as your mind kept thinking about Yelena's reaction to the cheesy gifts you got her. This was your third Valentines with Yelena, the first one she was away on a mission so there wasn't anything you could do with her and last year, you were sick with the flu and slept most of the day but you still found the energy to cook dinner for Yelena.

This was the year you were able to really show Yelena how much you loved her, even though you tell her every day just how important she is too you, you never wanted her to miss out on these little holidays. You woke her up with breakfast in bed, rose petals trailing from the bed to the shower where the two of you spent more time making out than helping each other wash.

Yelena took you out for lunch at your favorite restaurant before the two of you took a walk-through Central Park where you brought her a Valentines themed balloon from a balloon vender that she walked through the park with. She wasn't exactly a fan of the balloon but deep down she loved how cheesy you were.

"Babe, you missed the turn off" you looked to Yelena with a confused look.

"I know. We're not going home; I want to take you somewhere else" Yelena replied.

"Where?" You asked.

"You'll see" She looked to you and smiled softly, "it's just a 20-minute drive" she added.

Roughly 25 minutes later and Yelena pulled up at Brooklyn Bridge Park. The city lights reflecting off the water made her green eyes sparkle as she laid out a picnic blanket on the grass. "I was going to cook us a late dinner, but this seems more fun" she spoke as she looked at you.

"This is very romantic so for the record, I take absolutely full responsibility for the chance you might fall in love with me just a little more once you open your gift box" you replied with a smile. Yelena chuckled as she wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer into her, kissing you lovingly. "Do you want to go first?" She asked, seeing the excitement in your eyes. You nodded with a smile, "you might want to sit down for this" you chuckled.

The two of you sat down on the picnic blanket, you opened the gift box full of things you brought for Yelena and told her to close her eyes. "I'm going to start with this just to give you a little taste of what goodies I got you" you said, trying not to break out into laughter as you placed a mug in Yelena's hands. "Open your eyes" you added.

Yelena cocked a brow as she read the text on the mug before looking up at you to see you were proudly smiling at her with confidence. "Yoda best girlfriend in the galaxy" she read aloud. "That's just the start of it" you replied.

"You're not going to believe this" Yelena smiled while shaking her head as she pulled out the exact same mug she got for you, "it literally had you written all over it" she added. You broke into laughter as you placed the mug in front of you, "I love it, thank you!"

The two of you took in turns giving each other an item from the gift boxes. Yelena wasn't at all surprised that you'd gotten her a bottle of vodka as well as her favorite meal duo. She loved the perfume you got her and said it was the perfect scent, nothing too intense. You instantly put on the sweat that Yelena had gotten you and you couldn't wait to take a bath with one of the giant bath bombs she'd gotten you.

"Okay, close your eyes again, I saved the best for last" you smiled at your girlfriend.

"Now I am slightly nervous" Yelena chuckled with her eyes closed. You pulled out the last item in the gift box, the plushie of macaroni pasta that said 'Macaronly Have Eyes for You' on the box and gently placed it in her hands. "This is my favourite thing I got you" you said with a chuckle, "you can open your eyes now" you added.

Yelena couldn't control the laughter she broke into at the sight of the plushie, "I hate it so much I can't help but love it" she said, "thank you detka" she added as she reached over and kissed you lovingly. "I have one more gift for you" she smiled against your lips before leaning back and handing you the gift box. You found a small black box that made your heart skip a beat as you looked up at her.

"Open it" she insisted.

Carefully you picked up the small box and opened it to see a ring with a green diamond sparking at you from the city lights. "Yelena" you looked up at her.

"I've been thinking about this since our last Valentines together. You were so sick, and I told you just to stay in bed and rest but you were so persistent on making the day special. Detka, every single day I get with you is special to me and I knew that night that I don't ever want to spend my life with anybody else. I love the way you make me feel and the way you are never afraid to be yourself. I love how cheesy you are and how you always find the fun in anything. I wanted to give you something big and Hollywood style romantic but seeing you walking out of Walmart tonight and how beautiful you look in your sweats and favourite t-shirt, I didn't want to wait any longer" she said with a loving smile.

"Yelena, you broke the rules" you replied, tears of joy filling your eyes.

"I would break the rules for you anytime" she replied as she reached for the ring and gently pulled it out of the box. She looked you deeply in your eyes, "Ты выйдешь за меня?" She asked, her Russian accent the thickest you've ever heard it. You nodded repeatedly as the tears calmly ran own your cheeks, "if you're asking me what I think you are asking me, the answer is yes, a thousand times yes!" You replied.

Yelena slid the ring on your finger before kissing you deeply once more, "I really have to teach you Russian" she smiled against your lips.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

#yelenasdiary asks #scarletwidowblackwitch #fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #yelena belova x reader #happy valentines

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queenshelby · 9 months

Text

Chemical Reactions (P. 3)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Smut in later parts, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 2,567

Note: The fic is spoiler free and fantasy. Thank you for @forgottenpeakywriter for this amazing collage.

Previous Parts: 1; 2

Later that day, you finally made your way home which, to you, did not feel much like home at all. You had a room with beautiful views, overlooking the park across from central station. It was magnificent and, yet, you felt somewhat out of place inside this rather large property.

Since commencing your studies at Berkley, you were staying with family friends who, just like your mother and father, entertained strong communist believes.

The Chevaliers were well known party members and, whilst you never joined the party yourself, you retained your associations for the sake of mutual benefit.

Haakon Chevalier was an English professor at Berkley and it was through him that you have heard about the scholarship in the physics department at the university which, in the end, he aided you to obtain.

You thus owed him a great deal and, even though you were at odds with communism yourself, you did not mind presenting yourself at the events him and his wife invited you to.

With your father in charge of the party branch in the south and running for Senate, having you there meant a great deal to them and you were certain that, with the right amount of alcohol, you could get through the night effortless. But, apparently not tonight.

Tonight, was going to be different and, just as you got yourself ready for the event which was hosted by a friend of Haakon, you thought about it again. You thought about how your professor’s fingertips felt on you, raising goosebumps on your bare skin.

It was a feeling quite unfamiliar to you and you thought that, if he would have known that you had never been touched by a man before, he would have apologised to you for this somewhat inappropriate gesture.

An apology though was not what you were after. To the contrary. You wanted something completely different to this man taking pity on you. You wanted him to desire you for who you were, which was something that, to most men was off-putting.

Your mother always called you condescending. According to her, you were too fixated on the sciences and not interested enough in what mattered the most. To her, you were wasting your youth on problems that could not and should not be solved by human kind and this, itself, was a frustrating revelation to you.

Did you miss out on being loved where everyone else around you was focused on exactly that? Romantic relations, marriage and children?

You quickly realised that none of this interested you and not once, in your twenty-two years on this planet, have you felt intellectually challenged by a man. Not until now at least, which is when you met J Robert Oppenheimer who, out of all people on this earth, had to be your professor.

With him in mind, you looked at yourself in the mirror and reached up and clapped your hand over the place he touched, fizzling out the tingling that was beginning to rise there again by just thinking of him.

“Don’t be ridiculous” you then said to your image in the mirror, trying to snap out of your thoughts. Not only was he your superior, but he was also a married man who had a child and was at least fifteen years older than you.

It was pointless, so to speak and you really had to focus on your studies rather than on your professor.

***

Eventually, the evening came around and you caught a ride with Haakon and his wife Barbara to a property nearby. The drive was no more than twenty minutes and, when you arrived in front of the largest mansion you had ever seen, you could not help but laugh.

“Now that is the definition of communism” you said sarcastically, seeing the irony in the fact that communism was all about equality and, yet, whomever lived here probably had enough money to end poverty all together.

“Be nice and polite. We are hoping to receive some funding for our campaign” Barbara said and you reassured her that, of course, you would be on your best behaviour.

As such, you greeted the owners of the house with a smile and were introduced to them as a future senator’s daughter which was a term that sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine. You hated being reduced to being someone else’s child as, in your mind, you were a person with value of your own.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir” you said nonetheless before stepping inside and taking a look around.

The mansion contained a vast collection of artwork and antiques all of which you took an interest in even though you failed to see the value in these items. To you, they were worthless and impractical, but yet quite pretty to look at. Then, when you were finished looking around and assessing your surroundings, you engaged into some meaningless conversations about the cause with a man named Frank as well as woman named Jaen Tatlock.

Jean, herself, appeared to be rather intelligent. She studied both, psychology and philosophy but, yet, you couldn’t feather her ideas and ideologies. It did not resonate with you and you failed to see the distinction between communism and oppression when she spoke. Her approach was too radical and you thought about just how much your parents, in particular, would have enjoyed her company. You, on the other hand, did not and excused yourself rather quickly.

You then moved on and wandered through the dining room, scanning the large table in the middle of it for something to eat as, suddenly, you spotted another familiar face.

“Damn” you cursed as you saw him, standing there, talking to a man who you did not know and doing so in the most profound way.

There was something about him and, what really caught your eye was his body language. He was so sure of himself as he with angled toward the corner of the table, propping himself up on the palm of his hand.

You were practically hyperventilating at this point, trying desperately to keep your cool, but you could feel the heat rising to your chest. He gave you a quick look before standing up straight and excusing himself from the conversation with the stranger.

Then, he approached you and your face contorted as his eyes met yours.

“I did not take you to be a communist, Dr Oppenheimer. I am surprised” you said almost instantly when your professor greeted you silently and, just as you said these words, you could feel a challenge in his eyes. You screwed up again and Dr Oppenheimer was, quite obviously, surprised by your directness.

“I am not a party member, Miss Y/LN” he then assured you almost bluntly before lightening himself a cigarette and offering you one as well.

“That wasn’t my question Dr Oppenheimer” you pointed out before taking a cigarette from him which, out of politeness, he lit for you.

“You did not ask me a question Miss Y/LN. You simply made an assertion” he then pointed out before taking the liberty to ask you a question of his own and, thus, turning the tables on you. “Are you a communist?” he asked somewhat playfully and, by now, you were stuck wondering what the point of this interaction was.

“No, Dr Oppenheimer. I am an opportunist” you informed him in an attempt to catch him off guard and your words seemed to have had the desired effect as now he was keen to engage in some further conversation with you.

“Right. So may I ask, what opportunity has presented itself to you tonight, Miss Y/LN? Anything yet?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked as he was surveying your reactions to his question.

“No, nothing yet, I am afraid” you laughed, causing the professor to laugh as well before speaking up again.

“Then, perhaps I can change that” he said before reaching for your hand somewhat unexpectedly and, immediately, you felt that sensational tingling again.

“Come, I will show you something” Dr Oppenheimer then said and you quickly put out your cigarette and followed him through the empty hallway at the back of the house which, in your naivety, you believed to lead to an empty bedroom perhaps.

“I think that, perhaps, us leaving together like this, may be a little inappropriate?” you thus pointed out while following him nonetheless, which is when you reached a pair of stairs, leading to the very top of the mansion.

“Not if there is a scientific reason involved” he answered you almost sharply and his statement well and truly confused you until, eventually, Dr Oppenheimer pulled you out on to the balcony and you spotted what appeared to be a rather large commercial telescope.

“You submitted your thesis proposal to the board earlier today and, when I saw what it was about, I became intrigued” he explained and you were rather delighted to know that he had looked at your proposal even though he did not have to.

“I submitted the same proposal to the physics department at Harvard, but I was denied due to the lack of tutors in the theoretical department” you pointed out nonetheless, causing Dr Oppenheimer to chuckle lightly.

“Harvard has a theoretical physics department? That’s news to me” he said sarcastically, smiling, which was something that made you nervous. His smile was mesmerising and he certainly appeared at ease around you.

“No, which is exactly why my proposal got rejected and I applied to Berkley” you admitted to him but he already knew all this, given his contacts at Harvard.

“You really want to dedicate five years or more to researching dark matter?” he then asked you nonetheless while leading you closer towards the large telescope which you knew must have cost the owner of this mansion much more than a car.

“Yes” you stammered nervously, hoping that he would push for your research proposal to be accepted. He was a member of the board and could surely convince them to give you funding, you thought.

“Good” Dr Oppenheimer said sharply again while looking at you with his deep blue eyes.

“Why is that good?” you asked as you watched him scanning your face for cues. He tried to read you and your reactions.

“Because I already suggested to the board to accept your research proposal and provide you with all necessary resources” Dr Oppenheimer explained which, to you, came as a relief.

“And what did they say?” you wanted to know as your excitement took over your sense of nervousness.

“They said yes, provided that you work under my supervision” Dr Oppenheimer pointed out and, before you even had time to react, he pulled you closer.

“Now come. I need to show you something” he said while gesturing for you to step in front of the telescope, which was something that confused you.

“With respect, Dr Oppenheimer, you cannot see dark matter through this telescope” you chuckled, but he already knew that and acknowledged your concerns.

“You are right. You can’t. But you can see other matters. You tell me what you can see through the telescope because, in order for your research to be successful, you need to address more than just mere possibilities. The average person cannot comprehend what they cannot see…” Dr Oppenheimer explained before telling you that, in order for your research to become known, you would need to connect what is visible to what is not and explain the reasons behind the things that cannot be seen and why you believe that they do, in fact, exist.

“I suppose that makes sense” you told him nervously before, finally, stepping all the way in front of the telescope while Dr Oppenheimer positioned himself behind you.

“Ironically, I never used one of those before” you then told him after having only spent some time at the planetarium which, of course, is far more advanced than this.

“Here, let me show you” Dr Oppenheimer said as he drifted closer while putting one hand on the telescope and the other onto your back. He then adjusted the tilt and showed you how to move the device around while brushing your back with his hand.

You could feel the warmth of it through the thin fabric of your blouse and you felt like you were on the verge of flames.

“What can you see?” he then asked while you breathed out heavily. You could not remember a time where anyone has touched you in such a minuscule way, causing arousal inside of you, and answering his question had become rather difficult.

You tried to explain something of relevance nonetheless, but his nonchalant nature was well and truly driving you crazy.

“Watch closely and tell me what you can see” he then said again, wanting something more from you than the absurd little answer you had already given him and when you began to stammer out something else, you could feel his warm hand again, this time at the crook of your neck, moving aside your hair and causing you to turn around.

“I can see the stars, made of atoms, in different strengths, depending on their age” you began to say, feeling the goosebumps on your skin and struggling to catch your breath after your small, yet intimate moment.

“And what else?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked, now facing you and running his thumb gently over your cheek.

“Uhm…” you stammered nervously as he was not just working on you physically, but also mentally. He was challenging you and this created passion and urgency.

“Did you loose your train of thought again?” he then asked almost sarcastically as your eyes met his, making you suddenly aware of how infatuated you must have looked right then. Your lips were apart and your chest was obviously pulling large breaths. Your resolve was completely gone but you still managed to keep your eyes on him as he drew closer towards you, cupping your face, until suddenly, there was another voice in the background. It was one that was familiar to him and he startled.

“Robert? What are you doing here?” an attractive looking woman asked before giving you both a stern look.

“Kitty, this Y/N Y/LN, one of my students. We were just discussing her thesis on dark matter” Dr Oppenheimer explained rather quickly, making an excuse for being here with you on your own without even bothering to actually answer her question.

“Out here? Really?” the woman asked and the look on her face gave it all away. She did not believe a word he was saying.

“Yes” Dr Oppenheimer said nonetheless and, after moment of silence, the woman introduced herself to you.

“Hi, I am Katherine. Katherine Oppenheimer. I am his wife and perhaps, next time, any questions you may have for my husband could be brought to his attention at university, don’t you think?” she suggested and, even though she spoke to you in such a belittling manner, you nodded nervously.

“Of course. It is nice to meet you Katherine” you said, but she corrected you.

“It is Mrs Oppenheimer. Don’t call me by my first name” she pointed out, causing you to bite your tongue.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #Oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer x reader

1K notes · View notes

juanarc-thethird · 6 months

Note

Hey Jaune, have you proposed yet to *insert name*?

For the record, you let me choose. ---------------------------------------

Jaune is well dressed in a white long-sleeved button-down shirt, with the sleeves folded, and black pants with dress shoes of the same color.

Jaune: To day is the day.

He has been planning this day for several weeks. A lunch at her favorite restaurant. Then a walk in the park, and ends with a short stop at the central fountain of the park.

She went to the bathroom for a moment to touch up her makeup. Meanwhile Jaune takes the child from her pocket and tries to gather his courage for the big question.

"Who is the lucky girl?" you ask. Well she is…

????: I'm back

Jaune: (This is it)

He takes a deep breath.

Jaune: I have to tell you something important.

????: What is it?

Jaune: When I first met you, I thought you were out of my league. You were the popular girl and I was the geek who read comics in his free time. But when you ask me to go out with you, I was so happy! I thought it was a dream. But what I liked most was what I learned about you later. I love that you are a woman with great aspirations. I love the laugh you give me after hearing my bad jokes. Your smile, your kindness, your willingness to help others. I love waking up next to you every morning.

????: *About to cry* Oh Jaune...

Jaune: I think it's kind of obvious what I'm about to say.

He gets down on one knee and brings his ring to the light for her to see.

Jaune: Coco... Will you marry me?

Coco: Yes! Yes I will marry you!

She jumps into his arms and kisses him passionately.

Coco: You finally asked me.

Jaune: Wait, you were already expecting this?!

Coco: I saw the ring at the restaurant. You literally drop it in front of me when you took your wallet out. I just acted like I didn't notice.

Jaune: Man, I thought I was hiding it so well.

Coco: *Chuckles* But that's what I like about you~

Jaune: I love you~

Coco: I love you more~

#jaune arc #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #jaune #coco #rwby coco #coco adel #rwby coco adel #rwby shitpost #rwby #Will you marry me?

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succcession · 1 year

Text

We're gonna have a fucking baby

Kendall Roy x f!reader (Smut) 3.2k word count

Summary: After spending the day with Kendall and his two kids, Kendall admits he frequently fantasizes about having another baby with you. This conversation quickly leads to an intimate night of him trying to make that happen.

“I mean, is this all my life is y/n? Forty years of fucking up”.

“Ken, your life is forty years of being an amazing older brother, a hardworking son, and a great dad! Maybe with a few hiccups along the way but…who's counting?” you exclaimed as you placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of your emotionless boyfriend. His large eyes staring back at his reflection in the black liquid.

“The press is counting, my family is fucking counting. And you don’t have to lie y/n, I know I am neglectful in all those relationships. Especially with my kids” he roughly remarked.

For weeks you had been pushing the idea of Kendall spending more time with his kids. Whenever he had a day off you would throw out suggestions like, “Hey Ken, the weathers great! Maybe we should bring Sophia and Iverson to Central Park.” Or “NYC has so many museums, we should take Sophia to the ballet, and Iverson to the Hall of Science”. Never intending to make Kendall feel like a deadbeat dad. You knew how he admired his kids. Occasionally he just needed a little push to be there for them.

Due to Kendall’s lackluster attitude you figured today wasn’t the day to ask kendall if he wanted to make plans with his kids. Maybe it was the warm Saturday morning air flooding the usually chilling apartment, or the fact that Kendall was finally not in the office on a weekend but you just had to throw out the idea one more time. “Ken, I know you're having a rough day” you said softly as you reached out to squeeze his open hand. “But maybe not being cooped up in the office or your apartment will make you feel better-”

“Look, I know where you're going with this y/n and I’m not going to another one of your fucking pilates classes.” Kendall directly cutting off your sentence before you could finish. You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's consistent apathy.

“Damn, but I just love seeing you so worked up and sweaty” you retort. “No Ken, I was going to say, why don't we take Sophia and Iverson to the zoo today?” you cheerfully presented. To your surprise Kendalls eyes nearly seemed to light up at the word “zoo” as if something clicked inside of him, almost breaking his depressive state. Kendall responded with a quick “let me call Rava”.

You watched the rows of skyscrapers pass as you and Kendall sat in suffocating silence on the way to Rava’s apartment. Kendall fidgeted in his seat, pulling on his t-shirt, mindlessly switching between apps on his phone before eventually letting out a quiet “you know, you don't have to come if you don't want to y/n, I can pick them up by myself if it makes you more comfortable.” You placed your hand gently on his upper thigh giving a light squeeze as you explained. “Ken, it's really okay. I mean she's the mother of your children! We can't exactly avoid each other forever.” you said, showing a soft smile to assure Kendall of your confidence. Honestly, you and Rava got along fine. Although she was slow to warm up to you, you never took it personally. Who wouldn't be cautious of their drug addict, ex husbands, new girlfriend. Over time her cold demeanor shifted as you two began having small conversations whenever she would pick the kids up. You almost admired Rava in a way. She was beautiful, always looked elegantly put together, successful in her career, and she was an amazing mother. Everything you secretly hoped to one day be for Kendall.

As the car pulled up to Rava’s apartment you mind began to picture how your future might look with Kendall if things continued at the pace they were. Of course, Kendall had joked many times about getting you pregnant and running away together to get married. But you two never had a real discussion about what you saw for your future. You couldn't help but occasionally daydream of you and Kendall standing in an empty room deciding between sage green or soft peach, paint swatches for a nursery. Or rocking your baby to sleep as Kendall softly wrapped his arms around your waist, humming gently in your ear.

Your mind wandered further into your maternal daydream as your day at the zoo went on. Observing how patient and gentle Kendall was Iverson and how lovingly he doted on Sophia, had your heart skipping beats every minute. Making sure to capture hundreds of photos of all the adorable moments. Kendall typically only showed his love in undisclosed ways but with his children it was on full display.

As you and Iverson stared into a tank of swimming otters counting each one that passed, Kendall realized for the first time in weeks he didn’t feel like the world was collapsing in on him. There was something reassuring about watching you point out different frog species with Iverson and hold hands with Sophia, skipping together to each animal. Everytime he heard one of his kids yell “Dad, come look!” served as a reminder that he still had people in his life who cared about him. Who needed him.

Kendalls wandering thoughts were interrupted by a small tug on his sleeve and he looked down to find his daughter sweetly beaming up at him.

“What's up Princess? Are you having a good time?”

“Dad! y/n is so cool and you’re always happier when you're with her!” The young girl exclaimed.

Kendalls entire demeanor softened, and he kneeled down to wrap his arms around Sophia. Hearing those words nearly broke his heart. He was highly aware he wasn’t always at his best when around his kids, but he always tried to fake it for Sophia and Iverson. The fact that his kids could see past the facade made him sick. Just another reminder of the ways he was becoming like his father.

Kendall attempted to hide his shame from Sophia, responding smoothly “Yeah Soph, I guess you’re right about that. Lucky for us, I think y/n is here to stay.” In spite of her fathers hopefully tone, Sophia was hardly a young kid anymore and she could still see the fragment of sadness Kendall felt. She pleaded further “Please dad! y/n is the best! I want her around forever!”. After his divorce Kendall decided remarrying was out of the question for him. The thought of being like his dad; multiple wives with kids he ignored from each, practically gave him nightmares. However, Kendall couldn’t deny that when he met you, his mindset instantly changed. Within only a few months the thought of you having his child definitely crossed his mind more than once. He would catch himself picturing moments like you handing him a pregnancy test with a bright ‘+’ result. Staring up at him with your soft eyes anticipating his reaction. How he would scoop you up in his arms and yell “we're having a baby!” kissing you all over and reminding you how he would take care of you forever. Nonetheless, he always pushed those thoughts aside and never revealed how he really dreamed of you two ending up. The press already had a field day with your age gap, you were really starting to build momentum in your career and the last thing he ever wanted to do was make you feel trapped.

That night you and Kendall sat snuggling on the couch, scrolling through all of the silly photos taken throughout the day. You felt especially safe wrapped in Kendall's arms tonight. Assuming it was just the effects of getting to see Kendalls paternal instincts. He left gentle pecks along your forehead while giggling at every photo of Iverson and Sophia posing with the animals. The effortless time with his kids paired now with your warm body cuddled on top of him reliving the memories was already filling him with a mellow nostalgia.

As you scrolled past a selfie of you kissing Kendall on the cheek you giggled “we would make such cute babies.” Instantly Kendalls ears perked up seeing as he was the one usually joking about making babies.

“Are you kidding? Our kids would be like the next super model, techno DJ, fucking ultra geniuses!”

You expected Kendall to have to have such a teasing reaction but honestly you were being serious.

“Fuck yeah they would!” you joked back, pressing a peck to your boyfriend's lips. Kendall quickly deepened the kiss before pulling back to look at you.

“Did I ever tell you how sexy I think you would look pregnant?” Kendall whispered. “What? Omg Kendall no! You have never told me that” you laughed.

“Come on. What do you think… I think about after I cum in you?” he said with a large grin.

“Ken I- are you serious? Do you really think about you?”

Despite the giggle you let out as you asked, you knew Kendall caught on to the trace of hopefulness behind your question.

“Uh of course, I think about how fucking beautiful my girlfriend would be with my child, yeah.” Kendall assured.

Your heart was nearly pounding out of your chest. Despite being unsure if Kendall was being honest or simply pulling your heartstrings hearing him say those words was making you melt deeper into his arms.

“Mm really? How often?” you teased, hoping to gather more confirmation that Kendall wasn’t just joking.

“Um okay, you want me to be honest?” he asked.

“One hundred percent.” you said.

“Like. Everyday.”

Stunned by his answer, your mouth fell open and stumbled to come up with a response.

“Seeing you with Sophia and Iverson, waking up to you every morning, fuck y/n, you have no idea how bad I want to come home to you and our family.” Kendall continued.

“Our family?” you questioned.

You could sense Kendalls discomfort with your reaction. You hadn’t intended to say that thought aloud but you were speechless. It felt as if the delusional world in your head and reality were swapping places.

Kendalls large eyes were staring into your eyes, anxiety flooding his body, praying you say something else.

“Ken I-” you began, before being interrupted by a distressing Kendall.

“Look y/n its just a thought, I mean I’m definitely not trying to push for something you’re not ready for, like I know your young and-”

Crashing your lips into Kendalls was the only way you knew to shut him up from his fearful rambling.

“But…I want you, Kendall.” you said.

Your hands holding his face to look directly into his dark eyes. “I want all of you. All of your bad habits. All of your ex-wife, Roy family drama baggage. And especially…to have your babies.” you drew out slowly, letting a devilish smile creep onto your face.

That was all the reassurance Kendall needed before he was kissing you deeply , moving to positioning himself in between your thighs, hovering above you.

“Is that really what you want y/n? You want me to make you mine?” His previously trembling voice was now confident and nearly patronizing.

“Mhm baby, only yours” you replied sweetly while attempting to grind your hips up to Kendalls. That slight bit of friction was met with a repressed grunt from Kendall, his hands moving to tightly grip your hips, halting any movement. You could tell Kendall was already craving you. You could feel his dick growing harder as it pressed firmly against your clothed center. The truth was Kendall was hard since the conversation had begun. Even when you had simply joked earlier about making cute babies Kendall couldn’t help the blood that instantly rushed to his cock, causing it to throb against his sweats.

Kendall moved slowly to remove the soft sweater you were wearing, gently helping you to pull out each arm before lifting it over your head. His lips softly connected to your neck. Leaving light pecks, stopping occasionally to gently suck on the skin and admire the small blemishes he was leaving behind. His large hands softly massaging your breasts before his tongue swiftly moved to draw light circles around your nipples. Taking the small bud between his lips and sucking tenderly, making sure to give each nipple equal attention. Your body pushed your chest forward desperately giving in to his delicate touch. His ability to instantly turn you into a moaning mess never failed.

You squirmed beneath him searching for something to grind against, desperate to stimulate the area he was ignoring.

“This is what you’ve been waiting for isn’t it? For me to fuck you and make you mine? Already so eager for my fucking cum in you. My pretty girl” Kendall taunted softy. Watching you gasp as your back arched into him.

“Please Ken” you pleaded.

His fingers trace slowly down your body, finally making contact with your touch deprived center. Using two fingers to rub soft circles on your clit and slide them through your slick folds pressing firmly against your slit. His fingers were instantly covered in your wetness before he even dipped them into your pussy.

Kendall stared into your eyes as he brought the first finger he used to spread your pussy to his lips. Sliding the digit slowly into his mouth, “Fuck! You taste so good”. Bringing his second finger to your mouth with a commanding “suck”. You gladly accepted and softly sucked on the flesh tasting yourself before Kendall removed the finger with a loud popping sound.

He quickly moved from between your thighs to kneeling at the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms firmly around your thighs and pulling your dripping pussy level to his mouth. You cried out as his lips connected directly to your exposed clit. Kendall hummed into your pussy as he tongued the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hands grasped desperately searching for something to hold onto as you felt your orgasm building in your stomach. Kendall removed his firm grasp from around your hips and found your hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “Fuck Ken! You’re gonna- make me cum! Please- please don't stop!” You cried out, squeezing his hands harder feeling your eyes close shut. On nights when Kendall was feeling especially dominating, now is when he would completely pull away. Always trying to see how many times he could bring you to the edge before he finally gave you permission to cum. However, tonight was different. Kendall was on a mission to prove just how good he could make you feel, how bad he wanted to give you everything, that he would truly take care of you. His cock was leaking with precum appreciating every sound that left your body as he continued working your pussy. Rapidly licking at your slit and sucking on your clit until finally the knot building in your stomach released. You couldn't stop the dramatic stream of moans that left your body.

“Oh my God Ken!”

“Good girl” Kendall hummed as you attempted to catch your breath feeling your sensitive pussy throbbing inside.

You yelped, as you felt Kendalls mouth return to your overstimulated clit leaving light kisses while he worked to remove his sweatpants and boxers.

Kendall gently lifted you in both arms and softly laid you back down in the center of the bed. Taking his time to kiss you deeply as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. His chest heaving against yours as he lowered his waist. His dick finally making contact where you had been craving it most, smoothly grinding his tip in between your folds.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck, his dark voice whispering lowly into your ear “You’re my fucking girl.”

“I’m all yours Ken.”

“And this.” Kendall moved his hands to lightly slap his dripping head against your clit, “is my fucking pussy.” His aggressive words muttered with affection and tenderness.

“It’s your pussy Kendall. Forever”

Gradually Kendall began pushing his tip into your soaking entrance, taking his time to guide his cock deeper. Halting his movements frequently to feel you stretch around him.

“Fuck! I love you.” He grunted when his cock finally bottomed out. Dropping all his weight onto your hips, rocking deeply into you. His body was pressed so tightly against yours making you feel especially small and protected. His pelvic bone brushing against your clit with every thrust as he smoothly gained aggression.

Breathy mumbles of “I love you too Kendall, I love you so much” left your lips. His powerful thrust sending electricity straight from your brain to your pussy and through every inch of your body. The sound of your wet pussy dripping around Kendalls cock, his warm breath brushing your neck as he moaned deeply instinctively made you wrap your legs tightly around his hips. Although Kendall had intended to be soft with you tonight he couldn't stop himself from pounding into you ruthlessly. He could feel your pussy tightening around his cock with each thrust signaling you were close to cumming once again.

“Fuck baby! Why are you so fucking wet for me huh? Does it turn you on knowing I’m gonna cum in that fucking pussy? My pretty girl, gonna have my baby?”

He wasn’t expecting a real answer, only seeking to push you closer to cumming on his cock. He was using everything in him not to cum before you and you could feel his smooth pace become more erratic as he snapped his hips harshly against yours.

Letting go of his tight grasp around your body to balance with his forearms on either side of your head. Holding your face with his hands, pressing his forehead lightly atop yours.

“You want my fucking cum?” He questioned, doing his best to maintain a firm tone as he held back his orgasm.

“Yes Ken! I want your cum, baby! Please!” you cried out.

“Tell me where you want it. Tell me where you want me to cum baby”. He was fucking into you at a brutual pace watching as tears began forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck! In my pussy Ken, please cum inside me!” you pleaded as his words drew you to your second orgasm. That was all Kendall needed to hear before he was releasing deep inside you with a powerful thrust. It felt as if you could feel his cum hitting your cervix as he maintained his rough pace, fucking his cum deeper into you. Kendall could feel his orgasm rushing through his entire body, his cock throbbing inside of you, twitching, as he felt your nails drag down his back and your pussy squeezing around him. Milking every ounce of pleasure.

Kendall slowly pulled out you with a deep sigh. The loss of contact, already causing you to feel empty. You were yearning for him to reach out his arms again and pull you into a deep hug. Kendall traced his fingers lightly over your stomach, remaining silent as he studied every inch of your body before dropping to lay down on his back next to you. “Is he already regretting this?” You thought to yourself as Kendall laid silently staring up at the ceiling. You could feel you heart slowly sinking, letting out a soft sigh as you sat up and began shuffling off the bed. Your movements, quickly interrupted by Kendall reaching to pull your body into his lap. Straddling him, his toned arms pulled you into him tightly. Your chests rose and fell in sync as you both breathe in deeply. You feel Kendalls chests begin to vibrate beneath you and he lets out a loud chuckle, brightly exclaiming “We’re gonna have a fucking baby!”

#kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy oneshot #succession smut #succession season 4 #kendall succession #succession headcanons #kendall roy x you #kendall roy fluff #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy smut

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 7 months

Text

Nothing Compares 2 You

Pairing: RockstarEddieMunsonxReader

Request: Thank you to @munsonfire for this request and for allowing me the use of her edit! I love emotional drama and you are very good at it (as you are very good at everything else). Eddie has to leave town because he's becoming famous and they break up. They still love each other after all these years, but they've never spoken to each other. Eddie may have had many girls in his life, she may have always followed him in the tabloids and thought he had forgotten about her. somehow, by chance, they might see each other again... when she thought she'd never see him again?

Word Count: 7.5K

18+ ONLY

“I don’t understand why we’re going to Rockefeller Center in October,” you mused, walking along with your best friends, Nancy and Robin. “Isn’t seeing the massive Christmas tree and ice skating the whole point of Rockefeller Center?”

Nancy sighed, looping her arm through yours, “Yes, but the whole area is full of shops and great restaurants. We can do a little shopping and grab a late lunch. And how can we travel to New York City and not see Rockefeller Center?”

You shrugged. The three of you were having a girls long weekend in New York City. Only Nancy would want her bachelorette party to be a weekend of Broadway, culture, and history. The three of you had seen Anna Kerenina last night and it had been amazing. You’d also gone to Central Park, gone to the top of the Empire State Building, seen Times Square, and gone to The Met. Tomorrow was supposed to be the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.

Jonathan had popped the question last Christmas and your two friends were getting married in November. They were keeping the wedding fairly small. You and Robin were the only bridesmaids. Jonathan’s brother, Will, and his friend, Argyle, were the groomsman. The guys were doing a camping weekend, inviting along the rest of the crew. Jonathan and Nancy were not interested in the usual partying or strippers and while it may seem odd to most, you thought it was actually kind of refreshing.

As you approached Rockefeller center, you smiled. It was a perfect fall day, a world of color and warmth. The leaves were changing, the trees blazing in shades of red and orange. The sky was a clear, bright blue and you could sense the excitement in the air, the city vibrant and full of life. It felt like walking through a painting, every corner you turned a new picture full of beauty and wonder.

“Oh!” Robin squealed, darting away from the two of you. “They have thrift stores!”

“Oh boy,” you laughed, you and Nancy shaking your heads at each other as you followed Robin into ‘The City Opera Thrift Shop.’

Robin looked like a kid in a candy store as she perused the mish mash of clothing on racks, sorted by size and then color. Robin was not a shopping kind of girl unless you got her into a thrift store. The girl loved nothing more than quirky and cheap. Growing up in a family that had to pinch every penny had taught her to be frugal. You loved her sense of fashion because it was so uniquely her.

You meandered over to a rack of concert shirts, pushing them back one by one. Band tees were your go-to on weekends and oversized ones made the best pajamas. Used ones already had that soft, worn, washed feeling, leaving you from having to break them in. You pulled out a Black Crowes one, holding it up to yourself and your entire body froze, as if ice water had been dumped over your head, when you caught sight of the shirt that had been hiding behind it.

A strangled sob lodged in your throat, cutting off your air supply, your hand moving on its own in slow motion. Your fingers gripped the side, running over the black cotton. Your eyes devoured the jagged lettering, like words carved into wood. You knew it intimately because you’d been the one who had drawn it years ago in high school.

It was from their first tour, four years ago, in 1988. Your eyes slipped closed as you swallowed hard, forcing the sob down, locking it back into the dark box you tried to keep everything that had to do with him trapped in. But the image of him, those big brown eyes pleading with you to understand that he had to go, begging you to come with him, flashed behind your lids and your eyes shot open against the assault to your heart.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Robin called from the front of the store, a large bag hanging off of her arm.

“Uh…yeah…” you cried out, shoving the Black Crowes shirt back in front of the shirt you wished you’d never seen, covering it up the same way you’d covered up everything to do with him. Out of sight, out of mind. At least that was how it was supposed to work.

Who were you kidding? That had never been how it had worked. How could it when he was everywhere you looked? His music videos were all over MTV, he was on every show doing interviews and performances, and forget about going to a store. That face that had haunted you for five years was plastered across every magazine.

He clearly wasn’t thinking about you. He’d moved on, being pictured with a different woman on his arm every week. Making out with some supermodel at a party, having lunch with the hottest young actress in Hollywood, or catching some groupie’s panties on stage. The man had gotten what he’d always wanted. He was a rockstar, known across the world. He was the guy every woman wanted to fuck. He was the guy every guy wanted to be. He’d gotten out of Hawkins, away from their small minded ignorance, away from you.

“Hey, you okay?” asked Nancy, her eyes narrowing in concern as you followed them out of the store.

“Yeah,” you replied, forcing a smile on your face, “I’m good. So, what’s next?”

“More shopping, obviously,” giggled Nancy. “I need to find something for my mom. She’s always wanted to come to New York so I want to get her something very New York but not like the silly tourist stuff, you know? No snowglobes or keychains. I want to find her something cool.”

“Okay, well, then let’s get on it,” you stated, relieved to have a mission to focus your energy on to keep you from slipping down into that dark hole. That dark hole you’d disappeared down for six months after he’d left, that dark hole you swore you wouldn’t allow to swallow you anymore.

You spent the next hour and half in and out of stores, Nancy insisting nothing was right for her mom. You’d pointed out hand painted bags, shirts, paintings of the skyline, but nothing seemed to be right. Just as you were getting ready to give up for now and grab some lunch, Nancy gasped, pointing ahead.

“The NBC Studios shop!” she squealed. “My mom loves Jay Leno. Her and Dad were so upset when Carson was leaving but they wound up loving Leno. They watch it every single night. I bet I could find her something there.”

She grabbed onto yours and Robin’s hands and dragged you through the doors of the shop before instantly abandoning you to peruse all the merchandise. You looked over at Robin and shrugged, the two of you splitting up to browse yourselves. There was an entire section of merchandise just for popular shows on the channel.

You picked up an X-men mug, thinking Dustin would love it but you quickly put it back. If you bought him something that would be an avalanche of spending you couldn’t stop or afford. You couldn’t get him something without bringing something back for all of them. You’d never hear the end of it from Mike, Lucas, or Max if you got Dustin something and not them. Will would be gracious about it. El would probably be confused as to why she should care. Steve would definitely give you shit, offended, claiming you loved Dustin more than him.

Just as Nancy walked over, triumphant, with a mug and a shirt, you turned, your attention caught by a cavalcade of dark SUVs pulling up in front of the building. Your two friends spun to see what had caught your eye and Nancy sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh…I bet it’s someone famous. Someone who’s going to be on the Tonight Show or something. Who do you think it is?”

You shrugged, “How would I know? I don’t want it. Do either of you know who’s supposed to be on tonight?”

Robin shook her head, “No idea. Nancy, you said your parents watch it every night.”

“They do, but I don’t. I mean, I have here and there when someone I like is going to be on. But I haven’t watched tv all week so I haven’t even seen a preview. I was too busy with wedding plans and getting ready to leave for our trip.”

You watched curiously as a big guy in a suit with an earpiece came around the side of the SUV and pulled the door open. A familiar mop of curly dishwater blond hair appeared first, followed by the sweet face of one of your favorite people in the world. It should have filled you with pleasure to see him again, the guy who’d always treated you like a little sister, but instead a sense of dread seeped into your body. No. It couldn’t be. Because if he was here, then that meant…

You were falling, slipping sideways, as your world tilted on its axis at the sight of him climbing out of the SUV. Those coffee hued eyes were concealed by a large pair of sunglasses but you didn’t need to see them because they were forever imprinted on your brain. He looked so damn good, of course he did. In place of his usual ripped jeans and leather jacket, he wore a fitted brown suit, a white dress shirt unbuttoned just enough to provide you a peek of his chest.

“Oh shit,” muttered Robin.

“Hey…hey…” Nancy called out next to you, her hand holding your bicep in a vice grip, as if she were scared you’d collapse which was a very real possibility at this moment. “Hey, you okay?”

You couldn’t answer. You had no air. Your throat tightened, your lungs were paralyzed, unable to pull in precious oxygen. You were trapped, suffocating under the weight of memories, memories you’d buried deep but that now broke free, flashing before your mind like a slideshow of pain. Eddie winking at you from the stage at the Hideout, him leaning against your locker after class, lying in the back of his van sharing a joint, sitting on his bed as he worked on a new song, dancing at prom, the day he left…image after image attacked you, a knife slicing into you over and over, leaving you bleeding and helpless.

“I…no…I can’t…” you whimpered, shaking your head, taking small steps backwards as if you could run from him, as if he wasn’t about to come through the exact entrance you would need to escape.

“Hey, calm down. It’s okay,” Nancy urged but her words fell on deaf ears.

You were drowning, everything muffled, the lights were too bright. You couldn’t breathe. Your hands clawed at the neck of your shirt, a v-neck, which was in no way hindering anything but it felt like it. Your clothes felt restricting, too tight, caging you in.

One of the large men pushed open the door as two others flanked Eddie, leading him through it. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant came behind him, each with their own bodyguards. Jesus, there must have been twelve guys with them, covering them on all sides, the front, and the back, ensuring no one was getting close to them. That was fine. There wasn’t anything you wanted less.

As they passed in front of the gift shop’s floor to ceiling windows, you took two more steps back, bumping into a mannequin, sending it crashing to the floor along with a display of drinking glasses. A clerk glared over at you with a sigh, coming over to assess the damage. But that wasn’t what you were focusing on as Eddie’s head turned toward the sound. He stilled, pulling the sunglasses off his face, and there was those eyes, going wide as he took in the sight of you standing in the middle of the shop.

“Shit…no…no, no, no, no…” you pleaded, eyes darting from one side to the other, desperately seeking a way out of this situation but there was none unless you were willing to run past him.

“It’s okay, just breathe. It’s okay.” Nancy’s hands rubbed over your arms, attempting to soothe but only succeeding in making you even more agitated.

You shrugged her off as Eddie leaned into one of his bodyguards, whispering something in his ear. You were frozen, your feet stuck to the floor as the burly guy nodded and followed Eddie, pulling the door open. Suddenly the man you’d only seen in pictures and on television for the last five years was standing in front of you and you wished the Earth would open up and swallow you whole.

“Princess? Robin? Nancy? What are you three doing in New York?” Eddie asked, his sunglasses held between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked as if he had seen a ghost, as if you were a mirage.

“Girl’s weekend before my wedding,” answered Nancy when you hadn’t responded.

“Wedding?” Eddie’s eyebrows lifted, but still he didn’t look at her, his eyes glued on you as if you would disappear if he looked away. “You and Jonathan?”

“Yeah. He popped the question last Christmas,” she replied. “So, how’s the rockstar life?”

“Huh? Oh…uh, you know.” He shrugged. “Very rockstar.” His head tilted, those brown eyes threatening to pull you under, to consume you entirely. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t. “I can’t believe you’re here. I, well, I have to do this Tonight Show thing. It could take a few hours but would you want to come to my hotel after?”

His hotel? Was he serious? There was no way you could trust yourself alone in a room with him. Your body reacted to him, remembered him, his fingertips an imprint on your skin. This man who had known you more intimately than anyone else had in your entire life. This man who had been your first. This man who you’d thought would be your only before he shattered your heart.

Robin’s hand wrapped around yours, sensing the distress your body was under as Nancy stepped in front of you. Your friends who had been there, who had witnessed that dark time in your life, who had been the ones to pull you back from the edge just as you were ready to plummet into the abyss.

“How about you give us the information and let her think about it?” Nancy offered.

“Princess?” Eddie asked, concerned, his face peering around Nancy to find you again but this time you looked away. “Look, I just want to talk. I haven’t seen you in…god, it’s been…”

“Five years,” you mumbled, shocked at the sound of your own voice.

“I know,” he said softly. “Trust me. I know exactly how long it’s been. Look, if you tell me where you’re staying, I can have my driver pick you up. Or if you’d prefer, I can come to you. Just tell me your hotel and room number and I can come over after. I can bring dinner or we can order something or we can go out somewhere if that would make you more comfortable.”

“Look, Eddie,” Robin began, stepping into him, forcing him to step back. “She’s a bit overwhelmed at seeing you. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“I can because I feel exactly the same. I just want to talk.”

“Well, maybe she does and maybe she doesn’t but maybe you need to take a step back and give her some time to process all of this,” Nancy suggested calmly. “Give us your information and she can have a couple hours to decide what she wants to do.”

But you knew what you wanted. Of course you knew. There hadn’t been a choice from the moment you’d seen Gareth, knowing Eddie was not far behind. Seeing the man you’d been hopelessly in love with years after he left left you in a flurry of mixed emotions. You were both overjoyed to see that face you’d adored so much and overcome with old memories and thoughts of what could have been if he’d never left. A tug-of-war between the past and the present, battling for your heart with such force you feared it would rip in two.

Yet, even with all the conflict inside you, there was never any doubt of what you would do if given the choice. Wasn’t this the exact kind of situation you’d fantasized about endless times? Running into him, him missing you, him telling you that you’d always been the only one for him, that he still loved you.

“Room 1562 at The Mayfair,” you said, all three heads turning to look at you as you inhaled deeply and brought your eyes back to his face. “And you can bring food. That’s fine.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours then,” Eddie said, giving you that smile that swept your feet out from under you every damn time. “I can’t wait. Thank you, princess.”

Blinking back tears, you walked past him, past his slack jawed bandmates, ignoring Gareth when he called out to you, and out of the building. You weren’t trying to be bitchy but you had to get out of there. If you didn’t get some fresh air to your brain, you were going to pass out. Stopping on the sidewalk, you gulped in precious oxygen, wondering what in the hell you’d just gotten yourself into.

The door flew open, your two best friends flying out and running over to your side. Nancy’s hand came to your back. Robin’s arm locked around yours, the two of them guiding you away from the building, understanding that you needed distance.

“Holy shit…holy shit…” Robin gasped. “I cannot believe that just happened. Are you okay?”

“I had no idea. I am so sorry,” Nancy crooned, her hand making soothing circles over your back. “Who would have thought of all the weekends in the year, the one we chose to come to New York, Eddie would be here?”

“Not me,” you managed, a nervous giggle, frantic and squeaky exploding from you.

“Honey, are you sure you want to do this?” Nancy questioned.

“Yeah. If you’re rethinking this, we can go get our stuff and check out right now. We can switch hotels. He’ll never know where to find us,” Robin told you. “You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to.”

“No…no…I do,” you assured them, slowly coming down from the very near panic attack you’d just experienced. “I do. I want to see him. I want to talk to him. It’s okay. It’s going to be hard. It’s going to be painful but maybe it will also be good.”

“Good? Do you remember how you were after he left? Because we do,” Robin commented, one eyebrow lifting. “You don’t have to subject yourself to that again.”

“I know. I know. But he’s not a bad guy. He didn’t try to hurt me. He had an amazing opportunity and he couldn’t pass it up. And I am happy for him. Really, I am. It sucked but he’s not the bad guy. There is no bad guy in this story. It was an impossible situation. I’ll be okay. I was just taken by surprise. It was unexpected but I am expecting him to show up later so it will be fine.” Her two friends eyebrows lifted, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. “Seriously, it will be fine.”

____________________________________________________________

It wasn’t fine. Nothing about this was fine. You paced across the floor of your hotel room as you’d been doing for the last hour. You had no idea when he was arriving. How long did a taping for The Tonight Show take? Why would you know that? You had no experience in the world of celebrity. Maybe he wasn’t coming at all. Maybe he’d thought about it and realized that he didn’t need to waste his time seeing you. He had gorgeous women throwing themselves at him all the time. Why would he sacrifice an evening with a supermodel to hang out with his average ex-girlfriend from small town Hawkins?

This was ridiculous. Why had you agreed to this? What good was seeing him going to do? Just the sight of the man had brought on a panic attack, a shirt with his band’s name had sent you spiraling down the rabbit hole of sadness. Didn’t you know this? How many times had you lost track of time, disappearing into memories when you’d spotted his face on a magazine cover at the store?

No, you definitely should not have given him your hotel information. You should have said it was nice to see him, good luck with his appearance, and then left. Polite but keeping everything casual. You hadn’t been anything to him for five years. Five years was a long time. He’d obviously moved on. What did it say about you that you hadn’t?

Sure, you’d dated. You had that thing with Dylan that lasted for a year but it ended eight months ago when he confronted you, demanding to know if you were in love with him and you couldn’t give him the answer he wanted. You wanted to be in love with him. You wanted to be able to give someone else your heart fully but it had never belonged to you. It wasn’t yours to give. Your heart was currently touring the world and maybe it was time you got it back. Maybe that was what this meeting would do for you. You could finally sever that string, take back what was yours so you could move on and give it to someone else.

A sharp knock on your door paused your thoughts, your feet skidding to a stop on the carpet. Your entire body responded to the possibility of Eddie on the other side of that door, heart racing, lungs rushing, the hair on your arms raising. Closing your eyes, you took in a slow inhale through your nose and then calmly walked over, opening it.

“Oh!” you shrieked in surprise to find one of the large bodyguards standing on the other side. He pushed past you and began looking around the room, checking in closets, under the bed, and in the bathroom.

Eddie shrugged, smiling sheepishly at you, “Sorry about this. They’re very serious about my safety.”

The bodyguard appeared content that nothing was lurking in your room to attack his charge. He gave Eddie a small nod, saying, “Jack and I will be right outside the door.”

“How about just down the hall, man?” Eddie suggested. “A little privacy, maybe?”

The big man did not appear happy about it but he nodded, “Just down the hall. We’ve given very strict instructions that no one is to be allowed onto this floor until you leave, unless they are being escorted by James. He’s down in the lobby.”

“Got it. I feel very safe,” Eddie assured him, closing the door behind him. He turned to you, eyes rolling, hooking his thumb toward the door. “These guys are so fucking annoying but management insists. I had a stalker situation last year and ever since then, I’ve gone nowhere without Mr. Tall and Surly.”

“You had a stalker?” you asked, a weight weighing heavy in your stomach at the thought of him being in any danger.

Eddie shook his head with a snort, wild brown waves tossing around as he began unpacking a large brown bag onto the table, “It was nothing. Seriously. Some twenty year old who had convinced herself that we were destined to be or something. She sent notes and flowers. It was all harmless at first until she managed to figure out where we were staying and I got back late one night to her hiding in my closet.” He chuckled darkly, opening containers, the smell of Italian food permeating the room. “Scared the shit out of me, let me tell you. But she didn’t have any weapons or anything. She wasn’t trying to hurt me. She just wanted to convince me we were soulmates. Hotel security showed up and escorted her out. Poor thing was clearly struggling with some kind of mental illness. I tried to convince CJ, our manager, that it wasn’t a big deal but ever since then he’s been adamant that we have a security detail.”

“Well, better safe than sorry,” you sighed, moving over to sit across from him at the table as he took a seat. “I mean, stalker situations can be very scary. You’re lucky she wasn’t out to hurt you.”

“I guess.” He held up a container of chicken alfredo. “This still your favorite?”

“Uh…yeah,” you nodded, smiling as he scooped down on your plate, along with garlic bread. “Thanks.”

“Well, I was trying to figure out what to grab and then I remembered how much you love Italian food. You always picked Enzo’s for your birthday dinner. You still go there every year?”

“No. I don’t. This past birthday, I actually went out of town for my dinner to a new Thai place in Indy. Dylan didn’t really like…” You stopped, pressing your lips together. Shit. Why had you mentioned Dylan? And no, you hadn’t stepped foot in Enzo’s in five years. That had been your and Eddie’s place. You couldn’t stand the thought of going in there without him.

“Dylan?” asked Eddie, not missing a beat. He sat up, leaning back in his chair, legs spreading wide, those ring clad fingers running over his thighs as he looked at you. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“He was.”

“Was? What happened?”

You swallowed hard. This was not a topic you wanted to be discussing with him. But you’d been the one to open the flood gates, to stick your big old foot in your mouth.

“We broke up,” you replied with a shrug. “It wasn’t really going anywhere, you know? He was nice. I liked him. But he asked me if I was in love with him and I just…I couldn’t lie. So, he ended it. It was probably for the best anyway.” You needed to change the subject before he had you admitting things you did not want. “So, anyway, who cares about me? I’m still living the same boring life in Hawkins. I want to know about you, the big rockstar.”

Eddie flushed, those cheeks turning bright ride as he grabbed onto his hair, bringing it across his mouth. Your heart tugged, remembering how he did this when he was embarrassed or uncomfortable.

“It’s not as amazing as it sounds. I mean, it is. I love playing music for a living. I love being in the recording studio, working through the kinks with the guys, that moment when we finally get it right. There is nothing like standing on that stage, a sea of people screaming for you, singing your songs back at you. That part is…there really are no words. But the rest of it, all the interviews, the photo shoots, the required appearances at different functions, that’s just all the extra shit that I have to do to keep management happy. Sleeping in a different town every night gets exhausting. Sometimes I really do lay back at night and dream of my simple life back in Hawkins…sometimes I dream about that last night, laying next to you under the stars. I’ve missed you, princess.”

You swallowed, emotion threatening to choke you at his words, “Eddie…”

“What?”

“Don’t, okay? Please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Tell you that I miss you?”

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, closing your eyes and shaking your head, tears building up behind your eyelids. “I can’t. You have no idea. You have no idea what it was like for me when you left. You have no idea how hard it was.”

“But I do know how hard it was,” he argued, reaching for your hand but you pulled it back quickly. “I know exactly how hard it was because it was hard for me too.”

“Really? It was hard for you,” you challenged, eyes opening to glare at him. “It must have been really hard to have those models suctioned to your lips, to have your hand up the skirt of beautiful actresses you were dining with, to be sleeping with a different girl every night. I saw all the photos, Eddie. Your epic love life has graced the pages of many magazines.”

His eyes widened, nostrils flaring, “Yeah, okay? I’ve had a pretty healthy sex life since I left. I was a goddamn mess for a while. I was burying myself in other women because I was trying to forget you.”

“Well, good for you. I’m glad that worked for you! Because nothing ever worked for me!” you cried, jumping up so hard you knocked the chair back.

“It didn’t work for me! And how can you be so pissed off at me? I begged you to come with me and you refused. Do you really hate me for chasing after my dream? You knew I wanted to play music when we started dating. You knew I would go for it if I could.”

“No. I don’t hate you. Fuck, I wish I could hate you because it would make things so much easier but I can’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. I can’t fault you for chasing your dreams. And look at the life you have now. I’m proud of you, Eddie. I really am, but I…I never thought I would recover when you left.”

“Neither did I but I begged you, princess! I begged you to come with me!”

“I know you did but what would that have even looked like, Eddie? What? Me waiting in hotel rooms while you trekked from place to place? Me becoming the third wheel that was dragging you down because your focus wasn’t solely on the band? I couldn’t be that person. I couldn’t become someone you resented because I was standing in the way of you getting what you wanted. And obviously you’ve gotten it. You’ve moved on! Good for you. I can’t. I’m still stuck in that town where memories of you assault me on a daily basis. I can’t get away from you!”

“You think I’ve moved on?” he demanded, rising from his chair.

“You obviously have. I’ve seen the evidence. I know about you and that starlet. It’s been five years. Of course you moved on. You have this exciting life, traveling all over, meeting all kinds of people. You should have moved on but then you don’t get to come in here and give me those damn eyes and tell me you’ve missed me. That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” Eddie’s eyes flashed as he began moving forward, backing you up with each step until he was so close you could feel his breath fanning your face. “Moved on? Princess, I have never moved on. You crawled inside me. You’re in my blood, my fucking skin. No matter how many women I’ve fucked, I never moved on. You want to talk about not fair. Not fair is your face haunting me everytime I’m fucking someone else, wishing it was you beneath me. Not fair is you suddenly being in my town, finally within reach, and you telling me I don’t get to tell you how much I’ve missed you. Not fair is how badly I want to bury myself inside you right now even knowing it will destroy me because it will have been worth it.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, stepping back again, the backs of your knees hitting the bed and sending you toppling onto your back on the mattress. Those brown eyes darkened with lust, the only warning you had before he was on top of you, fists on either side of your head, gazing down at you with such desire that you were sure to drown in it.

“This is a bad idea,” you managed to choke out, knowing his words were true. Allowing him to consume you would mean the end of you but you didn’t have the strength to stop it because you wanted this. Jesus, you wanted this so badly.

“Yeah, it probably is,” he rasped, ducking his head down, his nose trailing over your cheek and down along your neck, inhaling the scent of you, sending shivers racing down your spine and straight between your thighs. “But I don’t fucking care. Let me have you, princess, even if it's only for one night.”

“Yes…”

You barely had the word out before his lips were on yours, devouring you like a man starved. Your lungs expanded as if this kiss were breathing life back into you. Your heart jumped, responding, coming back from being dormant for so long the moment his lips touched yours. Your soul pulled, reaching for him, recognizing in him the thing it had been missing for too long.

“I’ve missed you,” he growled, teeth pulling at your bottom lip before his tongue slid past and over yours. You met it, the two reacquainting themselves, dancing to a tune you both remembered the steps to as if it had just been yesterday.

A large hand slid along the outer edge of your thigh, up your dress, cool metal pressing into your skin as he gripped your ass through your panties and you whimpered at the feel of those hands on you again. His lips moved, exploring every inch of your face and neck, leaving no part of you untouched.

“You smell so damn good,” he whispered, tongue snaking along the column of your throat. “Taste good too.”

Your body shuddered. His other hand grabbed onto the strap of your dress, dragging it down your shoulder and arm until the cool air hit your exposed breast.

“Fuck, no bra, baby? Was that just for me?”

You could not formulate words as his mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking hard. His tongue lazily swirled, lavishing it with attention as he ground his erection down into you, fingers digging into your ass, pulling you as close as possible. His teeth raked over the tender bud and you cried out, back arching, pressing yourself against his face.

“You like that, baby?” he crooned, doing it again, grinning when he got the exact reaction he wanted. “Feel good?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you whined, your hands grabbing at his leather jacket. He pulled back just long enough to pull it off and your fingers latched onto the hem of his shirt before he could stop you, needing to feel his skin. You sat up, his thighs straddling your, lifting it over his head and tossing it to the floor.

Your eyes greedily ran over every inch of him, your fingers tracing the familiar tattoos inked over his skin before moving to the unfamiliar ones. He sighed at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed, his body exhaling as if in relief. There was a dragon running over his ribcage and a familiar guitar on his arm. Fuck, he was beautiful. He was still your Eddie, a bit more toned, but still lean and pale and just as perfect as you remembered.

You pressed your lips against the black widow on his chest. Eddie moaned, one hand cradling the back of your head as your mouth explored his chest just as he’d explored yours. You teased one nipple and then the other, nibbling, enjoying the hiss of pleasure that escaped between his clenched teeth. And then you paused, your head snapping back, tears burning your eyes when you caught sight of the small black letters just to the left of the demon head he’d gotten when you were juniors. Your fingers reached out hesitantly, running over the letters.

“Is this…?” you breathed.

He glanced down, a soft smile curving his lips as he took your fingers, pressing a kiss to them, “Yeah. It’s a copy of the carving I put in that tree of our initials senior year.”

“But why? Why would you get that when we weren’t even together anymore?”

“Because,” Eddie began, those hands coming down on the mattress, leaning into you, forcing you to lie back as his mouth scorched your skin, trailing over your collarbone. “My heart is yours. It always has been. It doesn’t matter how far apart we are or if we’re together, it’s always been with you, sweetheart.” His hand slid under your dress again, palming your pussy over your panties and he hissed. “Fuck…your panties are already so wet. Is that all for me? Did she miss me?”

“So fucking much,” you whined, rolling your hips toward his hand, needing to feel his fingers on you, inside you. It had been so long and only Eddie knew how to bring you to earth shattering orgasm. No man since had made your toes curl the way he did.

Eddie’s nose ran over your hair, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. His hand slid under your panties as he stretched out next to you, fingers slipping through your slick to find your aching clit. Your body bucked and you keened, arching as his thumb brushed over your clit. Small circles teased the sensitive little bud as two thick fingers pressed into you, your body immediately pulsing around them.

“Mmm…she remembers,” he breathed against your ear, pulling your earlobe between his teeth. “She knows who she belongs to.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words sending shockwaves of pleasure rocking through your body, your hips rolling to meet the pumping of his fingers.

His fingers began scissoring, spreading you, preparing you for him just the way he used to. The pleasure coursing through you was like your own sweet little oasis. You had opened the door to a world you’d long hidden from yourself and any stress or worry about what this meant, what happened after this, disappeared. Eddie, his fingers, his words, his body, was all that mattered in this moment.

He curled his fingers within you, hitting that spot that only he had ever found, that spot that had you seeing stars, that had you hurtling through the universe toward a never ending void. You screeched, eyes rolling back and then closing, chest heaving with every single gasp of air, knowing you weren’t going to be able to hold on much longer.

A strong grip on your chin turned your head toward Eddie, “Open your eyes for me, beautiful. I’ve waited far too long for this. I want to see you lose control.”

It was a struggle, your body fighting back against you as it thrashed around in the waves of the storm that was your approaching orgasm. You finally opened your eyes, finding those brown ones that reminded you so much of perfectly melted chocolate staring into yours with such intensity that your stomach coiled even more.

“You’re close, aren’t you, princess?” he asked with certainty. “I can feel it. Come on, baby. Let go for me.”

You screamed his name as your body trembled violently, your back arching, that knot in your stomach loosening. And then he was dragging your underwear down your legs, pushing his own pants and boxers past his hips. His lips were on yours and your hand slid between you, fisting his cock and the groan he released sent a whole new shock of pleasure through you.

“Fuck baby, yes…” he moaned, his forehead rolling over yours. “Feels so good…missed you…missed your touch.”

His tongue slid into your mouth once again as you worked him in your hand and then teased him, guiding his cock through your slick, up and down. Each time the head of it bumped over your clit, you whimpered, the sound swallowed into his mouth.

“Love when you use me to get off,” he growled. “Need to be inside you, sweetheart. You still on the pill?”

“Y…y…yes…” you stammered.

The word was barely out of your mouth before he thrust into you, pressing until his pelvis was flush with yours. You groaned simultaneously at the feel of your bodies connecting once again. Your pussy fluttered around him, as if welcoming him home, everything feeling as it should be for the first time in far too long.

“Jesus, baby, you feel so fucking good. So fucking good,” grunted Eddie, his body still, nose bumping over yours and you blinked when something wet fell onto your eye. Looking up, you saw he was crying and your heart squeezed as if in a vice.

Your hand cupped his cheek, thumb brushing over the drop, collecting it. He smiled softly, pressing his lips to yours as he began to move his hips slowly, rutting within you each time until he was bottomed out. His arms came around your back, crushing you against him, melding your two bodies until no inch of you was untouched by him.

“Eddie, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you…” you breathed, fingers moving into his hair, your foreheads stamped together as he thrust into you as if he were trying to climb into your body.

“Me too, baby. Me too. This is how it’s supposed to be. You’re mine. You were always meant to be mine.” His mouth fell on your neck, biting and sucking, marking you. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours…yours…” you cried, feeling as you climbed toward release once again.

“And I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. Just yours.” He growled, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your upper shoulders. “I’m gonna, princess. Cum with me, baby.”

It wasn’t a choice. You were barely hanging on by a thread. He buried himself deep within you, his body stilling as he cried out your name, his cock twitched, filling you with his release. Your head pressed into the pillow, legs locking around him, joining him in sweet ecstasy as you peaked once again.

Eddie shuddered above you and then collapsed against you, his face buried against your neck. Your fingers toyed with his hair, tears burning your eyes. Fuck, you were going to pay for this. How long would you bury yourself in that miserable dark hole this time after you inevitably parted, after he headed off to be a rockstar again?

“Jesus H. Christ, princess…that was fucking amazing,” he sighed, nuzzling against your neck. “I love you.”

Your entire body stilled, completely rigid at his words. That vice around your heart tightened, threatening to crush it into a million pieces. No. You’d never recover from this. The sex would have been hard enough to get past but those words…this was too much. Silent tears slid down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie soothed, his mouth pressing where the tears were. “Why the tears, princess? Why are you sad?”

“I can’t…I can’t do this,” you mumbled, attempting to sit up but his arms came around, pulling you back down to the bed, cradling you against his body. Tender kisses pressed against your forehead and you sunk into the safety and comfort of him, knowing it wouldn’t last.

“Can’t do what?”

“What are we doing? You’re just going to leave again and I am going to have to try to get over you again. And I didn’t do a great job the first time. Why do you think I wasn’t in love with Dylan? Because I’ve never been able to get over you!”

“Baby, I never got over you either. I tried. And yes, I do have to leave again. That’s my job. But come with me.” His fingers brushed your hair back from your face, his eyes begging you the same they did five years ago. “Come on tour with me. You belong with me. I know it and so do you. Don’t make me have to live without you anymore.”

“Eddie, I don’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t. You were worried the band wouldn’t take off if you were there distracting me but the band’s already taken off. The guys have missed you too. They would love to have you come along. Gareth’s got a girl and she travels with us. Nobody cares. Besides…” he grinned, teasing your neck with kisses, “you are the best kind of distraction.”

“I…I mean…”

“You mean what? I’ve been miserable without you. Are you telling me you haven’t been miserable without me?”

“No. I have,” you admitted.

“Then come with me. Be with me. Let’s be happy.”

He was right. All of the reasons you’d had five years ago to not go on tour with them were mute at this point. Corroded Coffin was the most popular band in the world. You weren’t going to stop them from becoming big because they were already big. You tried picturing it, traveling the world with Eddie, seeing and experiencing things you never had before, sleeping next to him every night, getting to watch him on stage again. And you realized, you wanted it. You wanted it badly.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His eyes lit up. “You’re going to come on the road with me?”

“Yes. I’m so tired of trying to be happy without you. I just want you. You’re what makes me happy.”

“Oh sweetheart, I am going to make you happy every day for the rest of forever, starting now,” he grinned, and then his lips were traveling down your body and your head was humming with bliss.

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