#lawyers are terrible to have at parties because we keep trying to make everything about the law

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Thank you so much for the very detailed answer to my question I love it:) I agree with you 100% I read on one of you post that you are a lawyer and I have to ask what your opinion on hiromi higuruma from jjk.

the fact that he had a violent breakdown because of the justice system and then sped run becoming a fucking wizard with his lawyer themed wizard powers is the most accurate lawyer representation I can possibly imagine

[lokisprettygirl]

Brokenhearted (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 13 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 14

Summary: Samantha finally takes what she wanted but it might just be not enough for her.

Warning: 18+, Smut, Angst, violent thoughts, stalking, Discussion of mensuration and Pregnancy, bloodshed, Abusive relationship, mention of rape, toxic masculinity, gender norms, sexual abuse, Samantha, traumatic distressing content, Daemon is a big time smoker so if it’s something triggering don’t read it, alcohol drinking, mention of past trauma and therapy, cigarette smoking, possessive behaviour, violence, baby needs therapy, baby is trying

There was a palpable tension in the room between you, Daemon and Viserys, you knew you should have told him what Samantha wanted from him but you felt scared of losing him and your worst nightmare was about to come true. The only thing you could do was sit and watch as your world crashed and burned right in front of your eyes.

Samantha found him during his run that morning and had revealed to him what she had against him that could ruin his Life, his career and what she wanted from him in return.

Eight years ago during her last birthday party with Daemon, Samantha had laced his drink and under the influence he had not only indulged in several prohibited drugs under the federation but also participated in an orgy where he could barely keep his eyes open. She had planned all of that, once he was intoxicated she got his blood taken, and then she got his pictures and videos taken for further leverage, she wanted him to lose control so she'd have something against him whenever he'd plan to leave her but before she could use all that against him things ended rather drastically between them. You still had no idea what Viserys had told her that night in the hospital to make her leave him.

But she kept everything because she knew she'd never let him go completely.

Daemon remembered that birthday party really well, she was pregnant at the time so he wanted to be extra careful with her but he didn't remember everything from the night, he just remembered waking up the next morning with his cock in her mouth, he remembered feeling safe for once as she made love to him without wanting to hurt him, he really thought that the child would turn her, change the way she chose to love him.

He remembered it as one of the better days of their dysfunctional relationship not knowing what had happened the night before but now he did and he was ashamed of himself.

He was ashamed of how he'd be perceived if such things would make their way to the public.

"Daemon we can get the best of lawyers..we can-" Viserys spoke but he was interrupted immediately.

"Nooo" Daemon raised his voice at his brother and your eyes welled up. Why didn't he want justice? Why was he so adamant on not wanting to take any action against her? You didn't understand.

"Daemon –" you spoke but he cut you short as well.

"I'll come to you as well y/n" he said to you sternly. He never called you by your name so it was already an indication that this conversation won't end well, he seemed furious and you felt worried about what he was going to do. Your gut feeling told you that it was going to end terribly for you two.

"Go call her.. I'm sure your bitch of a wife stays in touch with her..tell her I want to meet her in the evening.. I need to talk to y/n now" Daemon told Viserys so the latter sighed and stepped out of the room to give you two privacy. This wasn't going to end well for you, he knew that and as much as he wanted to save your relationship with Daemon, he knew his brother far too well.

As soon as Viserys was gone Daemon looked at you, he was leaning against one of the bedposts just staring at you,

"Daemon –" you walked closer to him so he looked away. What he was going to do with you would make you hate him forever, and he would deserve that. He never deserved a woman like you in the first place, the selfless love you had for him, he was unworthy of it, he was too weak of a man to treat you better than this "I'm sorry I didn't tell you..I wanted to..I just"

"You have to go"

As you heard those words you could feel your heart stop for a moment . What did he even mean?

"Wha..tt?" Your voice cracked as you questioned him, you placed your hands on his forearms and stepped closer to him, he can't just ask you to leave this way, you were there for him.

"I'm going to give her what she wants, she wants me right? Then she can have me.. and for that to happen youuu need to leave y/n" he said nonchalantly, he pretended as if saying such cruel words to you wasn't affecting him at all but the reality was much different. He had never felt such intense debilitating pain as he did in that very second and he sure as hell knew a thing or two about pain.

"Don't say that, i know you're upset–" you tried to get through to him but he cut you off mid sentence. He can't have you arguing with him because he knew he'd get convinced easily.

"I'm not upset, not with you, I'm just done..I'm done trying to ignore the inevitable, she'd never let me go ..can't you see?" his eyes teared up, they seemed vacant and hopeless so you cupped his cheeks and kissed him softly, he didn't stop you either, he'd never get to hold you like this again or feel your tender kisses against his skin ever again so he wanted to relish your touch, live an eternity in those very few moments because a life of hurt and regret was waiting for him.

"There are other ways baby..don't do this please..i love you ..i love you so much..stay with me, let me be here for you please.. please" you cried as you clutched onto him, you can't lose him, especially not to her, you can't even imagine him getting hurt again.

"Please don't make this harder, darling" he said to you so let go of his shirt, he was just going to give up on this relationship and there was nothing you could have done to save it.

"So you just leave me to go back to her..that's your plan?" You looked him in the eye but he wasn't able to hold your gaze, he was truly ashamed of himself. "Why are you doing this dae?" You didn't understand his reasoning, why didn't he want to get rid of her? Have her punished for what she had done to him? What was compelling him to not drag her abusive ass to the court?

"Because I don't want the world to know me as the man who was too delicate to defend himself. That is not the legacy I want to leave behind"

You stepped away to look at him as he said that. He was worried about his past getting out because he was afraid of judgment from other people, he was afraid they would think of him as weak and unmanly, as someone who took it for years and said nothing.

"You can't think like that Daemon, nobody is going to judge you for being hurt by someone you loved so deeply" he snickered as you said that to him.

"Really? Look at me ..how does a man like me get abused by a woman? Tell me?" He gestured towards his physique and you opened your mouth to say something, to tell him that he was wrong about his own judgement but then did you know any better? You were in no position to judge him for his thoughts, he had suffered hell on earth and you weren't going to question the way he chose to cope with it.

You wished you had an answer for him but you didn't, you had a feeling nothing you could say would change his mind now.

"Daemon…don't leave me baby..i love you..i can't watch you go back to her and get hurt again" you whimpered and cried, the sight of you being so broken only fueled the hatred he felt for himself.

"I won't let her hurt me this time..I'll take care of myself" he said to you calmly and whatever hope you had dissipated along with his words. You stepped away further from him, shock was evident on your features that he was letting you go so easily.

"So that's it..you're going to let me go like i meant nothing to you?" He finally looked you in the eye as you said that.

"You mean everything to me ..you have no idea what I'm feeling at the moment ..you think this is easy for me?"

He asked you but you didn't have a response. It wasn't easy for him but it was definitely more difficult for you to be on the receiving end of this. Silence fell between you two after that, you asked to leave so he got your ticket booked immediately.

No questions asked, no resistance shown.

You couldn't even believe that this was happening, last night you slept in his arms, cuddling him like never before, he seemed so happy and so were you then why did your world turn upside down today. Why were you losing him now?

You were almost out of his hotel room when you turned around to look at him one more time, you couldn't help it, the thought of him returning to that monster only made you feel helpless but you couldn't help him if he wasn't willing to be helped.

He had his back against you, he couldn't even look into your eyes after this, he needed you right now more than ever but he had no right to ask you to stay. He had to let go of the safety of your arms and that was the hardest thing he'd ever have to do, he knew he had broken your heart and your trust and he also knew that you'd never forgive him for this but then he felt your arms around his waist as you sobbed against him and that's what made him give up the facade and have a breakdown.

You turned him around, cupped his cheeks and got on your tiptoes to place your forehead against his, one last moment of comfort, in that moment he knew you'd forever be his angel no matter what he does.

"Someday and I hope you'll see that day sooner than later Daemon.. someday you're going to realize that you're not a victim, that you're a survivor and the world will see you as such if you decide to tell them all about it.. whenever that day comes or whatever the reason will be for it.. I hope you'll build the courage to fight against her instead of allowing her to win again.. i love you..more than anything, i always will" you mumbled softly and kissed him one last time before you turned around to leave.

That would be the last Daemon would see you for a while. As soon as you had left his room he was reduced to his knees and in tears, he wanted to run back to you and tell you that he was ready to fight the world for you but he wasn't, he was too vulnerable.

He was a coward and he deserved a woman like Samantha, not you.

In the evening he met Samantha and she hugged him so tightly as she cried and then cried some more, there were tears in his own eyes but they weren't for her or because of her. Those tears only concerned you.

"I have changed Daemon i promise, I have grown in our time apart ..i only did all of this just to get you back, that's how much I love you my sweet boy"

She cooed in his ears as she clung to him. She got what she wanted and you lost everything you had when he was yours. He didn't say a word, he felt completely numb and he figured that's just how it will be for him moving forward.

Four days later, the day of the championship, Daemon stepped into the octagon with a defeated attitude. He didn't fight back, choosing instead to take the beating and stand there as his opponent pummeled him. He didn't deserve a win after what he had done to you, he wanted to feel the pain. He would have won the championship if he had you by his side, but now he no longer felt worthy. He felt weak and pathetic, just like how he had felt for the past seven years

Your eyes were glued to your tv screen, tears never stopped rolling as you watched the love of your life losing on purpose. Why would he do that? You didn't understand, did Samantha ask him to lose? Was he getting manipulated again? You hoped not.

Hours turned into days and days turned into months, he lived just a few steps away from the diner but you couldn't go see him. You couldn't go hug him or kiss him, he wasn't yours anymore to do so. A part of you wanted to hate him with passion for abandoning you like this but you couldn't hate him after everything he had been through, all he needed in his life was love that was safe and secured but he no longer had it. Samantha didn't love him, she just wanted to possess him like an object, a trophy to show off.

One evening, as Daemon returned to his condo after work, he was greeted by a box on his door. He opened it up and found all the gifts he had given you. All of the valuables, you didn't want to keep them anymore. He could feel the pain in his heart as he rummaged through the box. He always knew that his precious girl only loved him and didn't care about the materialistic values of the items but it still hurt that you didn't want to keep his gifts. When he didn't find the case of knives he had given you, he took a deep breath and let out a sigh. At least you kept what mattered to you.

As Daemon walked inside the apartment with that box, Samantha's eyes followed him. She didn't work, she spent her days just lounging on the couch all day long and spending his money like there was no tomorrow, that's all she did. It had been two months since they got together, but he wasn't ready for intimacy with her. He felt like he was cheating on you, like he was tainting the pure relationship he had with you.

A few weeks later as daemon got ready for bed Samantha turned up in the skimpiest nightie to turn him on but he only felt disgust and contempt for her.

"Come on love me tonight..i have had enough of your nonsense" she cupped his cheeks and kissed him against his will, the warm blooded man in him wanted to give in but he couldn't, there was no love in his heart for her, he hated her and he couldn't get himself to forget what she had done to him. After being doused in your love from head to toe he could clearly see that she had never loved him at all.

"I'm not in the mood" he grabbed her shoulders to pull her away but she wrapped her hands around his throat and began to choke him,

"Stop with your drama you idiot, you're mine now and you're going to be the man I want you to be. And as a man I want you to please me. What's wrong with you? Does your cock not work anymore?" She taunted him so he pushed her away with a force, sudden action made her lose her balance and she fell on the bed.

"Daemonnnn..come back'" she yelled his name but he grabbed his pillow and went to the other room to sleep.

As he laid down on the bed he heard the sounds of a vase crashing into the mirror in his room but he put his earbuds in and turned the music on to zone out.

Three months had passed since that god awful day and his fingers itched to touch you, to have you touch him in ways that brought him pleasure. His eyes longed for a gaze of yours, there was a ringing in his ears that only your voice could have shut down.

He opened his gallery and went through the pictures he had taken of you and with you on his phone, he had to save them all in a private folder so Samantha wouldn't see them, he wanted to keep you safe from her prying eyes.

A moan escaped his throat as he came across the pictures he had taken of you in his bedroom, with all the jewelries he has gifted you, you adorned nothing else but those jewelries and the sultry little smile on your face, your beautiful bare skin glowing in the dim yellow light of his bedroom was all he needed to get through this night.

He scrolled through the countless pictures in countless poses he had made you do, some lewd enough to work him up that his hand began to move of its own accord but some so innocent that it made him want to hold you right that moment. He worked furiously over his own length as he went through the pictures and then he stumbled upon the video he had taken of you some other night.

It wasn't just you though, it was you underneath, both of you were drunk and figured it would be scandalous to make a sex tape but the next morning neither of you could build the courage to watch it, the sight of your moans and groans and sweet whisper of his name as he fucked you senselessly was the push he needed to crumble into an orgasm.

He always thought he was being mechanical with you during sex, that he didn't give you enough tenderness but the evidence in front of him made him see otherwise, his eyes teared up as he looked at the way you held onto him and the way he'd pull you closer to him to latch his mouth with yours between thrusts, your eyes never leaving one another.

He was high on the much needed euphoria but as the feeling died down the guilt began to sink in, he had no right to keep these souvenirs, you were not his any longer but he couldn't bring himself to delete them either, your memories were all he had now.

Next morning on his way to the center he stopped right by your diner and looked in from the glass window, he had no intention of getting in but it felt comforting to just stand there knowing too well that he could just walk right in and see you. He was about to turn around and leave when the kitchen door opened and you stepped out, you were going into the employees room but you spotted him on the other side of the window, your heart skipped a beat as you noticed what he was wearing, a black hoodie with a black trouser, a sight too memorable.

His hair was braided from the sides, the rest of the mane was down below his shoulders, it had definitely grown longer. He looked as pretty as you had remembered, it's been just three months but it had felt like years to you.

You stepped out of the entrance, looking at him standing across the window. He gave you his typical look, narrowed eyes and non-existent brows scrunched all the way down. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at the thought of him staring back at you so intensely as if you still belonged to him

"Were you planning to come in?" You broke the ice first so he took a few steps towards you,

"Not really..no" you nodded as he said that.

"Come on in..I'll fix you a sandwich" you went inside as you said that, squeezing your eyes at your own eagerness to invite him in. As the bells on the door rang you couldn't help but smile that he had taken you up on the offer.

He sat down on one of the booths wondering what the hell he was doing. He knew he was being selfish, you didn't deserve this, you didn't deserve him disturbing your peace this way.

A few minutes later you placed the plate down in front of him and sat down on the other side, your arms situated on the table itself as you tried to decipher the look on his face. His skin was free of bruises, which was a relief, but it still didn't erase the pain of not knowing what he may have endured in the past three months. You hoped she hadn't hurt him the way she used to.

"How are you?" He asked you so you smiled,

"Alright..you?"

"Kay..I guess ..work has been good?" He asked you so you nodded. Neither of you could deny that this was as awkward as it could get, none of you knew what to say to each other, the way your relationship ended wasn't exactly mutual, you didn't want this and you knew he loved you so it's not that he wanted it either but how the world perceived him was more important to him than you and you didn't blame him for that.

That is how he was conditioned to believe, the scars she had left behind were permanent, as a man he didn't want the world to think of him as someone so frail that he couldn't defend himself against a woman that was physically weaker than him, it wasn't true, of course not, but he had to realize that himself. You just wanted him to stop thinking of himself like that.

He was nibbling on his sandwich like a bird and it made you smile, gods you have missed him and all his quirks, he smelled good but you could also smell the cigarette on him so that worried you, why was he smoking first thing in the morning?

You had to go back to work so you got up and as you were about to walk past him he grabbed your arm so you turned around to look at him, his puppy eyes melted your resolve instantly, you knew you had to be the one to remember that he was the one to let you go but perhaps a momentary lapse in judgment won't kill you right? Or so you had thought.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his head down on your torso to hug you the way he used to whenever he seeked comfort from you, your fingers ran through his scalp and as soon as he felt your soothing touch his hold only got tighter around you.

After a while as he pulled away so you immediately turned around and left, you didn't want him to see you cry again. What was the point really? However that wasn't the last you had seen of him that day, he turned up at your door with the box of gifts that you had returned to him a few days ago.

"Why did you give this back to me?" He asked you as he entered your apartment and your eyes welled up.

"Why not? Last time i checked i wasn't' your girl anymore" his jaw clenched as you said that. Well atleast you were showing him the anger he deserved instead of being a fucking angel about it, he needed your anger, he needed you to tell him that he had ruined your life, he wanted you to hate him in the hope that it would lessen the guilt and regret he felt every waking second of his life..

"It was a gift, you shouldn't return the gifts like that..you silly stupid girl" you scoffed as he said that. Oh how you wanted to be his stupid silly girl at that moment.

"Get out .. okay? Don't do this to me now..I want to move on but I can't if I keep seeing you like this ..stop looking at me like that you hear me?" the pain in your voice was transparent, countless nights you had cried yourself to sleep just thinking about him and how different your life could have been with him.

"What if I don't want you to move on?" He questioned shamelessly, he couldn't bear the thought of another man being lucky enough to earn your love and then be blessed enough to keep it at the same time.

"You can't expect that from me, you made your choice, you chose her" you raised your voice and he snickered in response.

"No i didn't choose her, i chose hell.. that's what I did..I chose misery, I let go my darling angel and picked a witch that is going to torment me all my life, don't act as if you're the only one that has been hurt here"

Tears rolled down his cheeks, his voice broke with all the pent up emotions that he was hiding underneath that cold hard exterior.

"You have no right to be upset with me dae..you have no idea how hard it was for me to let you go that day, to watch you go back to that woman that had ruined you.. how would you have felt if the situation was reversed? Would you have sat idly and watched me go back to my abuser?" Your voice trembled as you spoke so he walked towards you and cupped your cheeks, placing his forehead down on yours he closed his eyes, just having you this close to him again felt surreal. If the situation was reversed he never would have allowed you to do this.

"Why did you ever love me so deeply you sweet sweet angel of mine..I don't deserve it"

You wanted to hold him and tell him why, you could have described a million reasons why you loved him but then you knew at the end he'd hurt you again.

"I told you I was afraid of losing you and then you abandoned me the next day. You can't be here Daemon you have to go..you need to leave.. please just go"

He let go of you as you said that and turned around to leave. He knew neither of you would be able to control yourselves if he had stayed any longer and he didn't want to use you like that, he had caused you enough pain already.

When he came back to his condo that night Samantha was just glaring at him with a look of suspicion on her face.

"Where were you?" She asked him as she walked towards him,

"Work stuff" he walked past her to go to his room. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her today.

What he didn't know was that Samantha had followed him that morning and she had watched him meet you in the diner and then the apartment, she couldn't have that now could she? She had to make sure he was all hers now but she also knew that it won't happen as long as you were still here in this world. He'd always run to you as long as you were in his reach.

A few days later after work you were crossing the street when a car came speeding towards you with no time for you to react. The impact caused you to fly through the air before crashing onto the pavement.

As you laid there, stunned and disoriented, the last thing you remembered was the feeling of being pulled onto a stretcher before the darkness consumed you

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Taglist (please check your setting if I’m not able to tag you)

@simbaaas-stuff @ajthefujoshi @witchybitch2 @hypocritic-trash-baby @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @thefallenangel21n @kmc1989

@stupidthoughtsinwriting

[punkranger]

Okay hear me out.... We now know what the Steps would be in D&D... But what character would they *play*? Who's rolling the murder hobo barbarian, who's the bard who seduces the dragon, etc?

So I’ve definitely thought about this before… anyway, have a bunch of random facts about this AU where they all play D&D together I guess? Who the DM is is a mystery, but I’m voting Themmy

Antoine

is the bard who seduces the dragon for sure - although he’d probably still play fighter/rogue cuz he’s not gonna want to bother to learn how magic works

He’s just there to hit stuff, get treasure and flirt

He might also try barbarian and somehow manages to do better than nic at persuasion

Says he’s not interested in any deep storytelling and makes his characters kind of jokey with basically no backstory, but is the first to get attached to an NPC who died and like spends the rest of the game evolving his character based on various encounters

Plays as a tiefling at least once but would also want to try some sort of genasi and definitely a catboy as well - basically anything that looks cool and not too much like a human

Nicholas 

would probably play a warlock - for the Drama™ 

they’d have the most elaborate backstory/plot that they’d wait until the very end to reveal 

voted most likely to either end up evil or die within 2 sessions

Rolls terribly at all persuasion/intimidation checks despite high charisma, but one time they manage to pull off something crazy like making a whole town think they’re the mayor or w/e and they live on that high for weeks after despite going back to their usual shitty luck

almost dies every session from the second-hand embarrassment of antoine’s flirting

dies even more when they decide to romance someone

plays some sort of elf usually

Rene 

would def still go for artificer, but might choose cleric too. 

She’s the one who takes care of the party basically, but also gets them into trouble because she steals Everything (not that anyone thinks it’s her, they go after the other idiots instead lol). 

Loves to make traps and do heists

But also wants to try to befriend everyone and everything they meet even if they’re attacking

Always thinks of clever solutions but is also a bit of a troll who will play pranks on NPCs and party members alike

would play any small race - gnome, halfling, goblin etc.

Densil 

is the rules-lawyer and still a paladin, but could also play an extremely tired cleric if necessary. 

They’re the one trying to keep the party on track and tries to do most interactions with NPCs because they (rightly) don’t trust the others, but usually doesn’t manage to keep them from interfering.. 

Has the most graphic descriptions when he kills things

Plays either lawful good or lawful evil, sometimes both in the same game

Is the party secretary, keeping track of inventory and quests and important NPCs and other “boring stuff” that the others don’t want to do - but they like it. 

Would probably play human for stats mainly, but could also decide to play aasimar 

[arrow-guy]

Spill Your Guts

Summary: You’re used to working in the shadows. You’re happy with that. But when you unexpectedly meet Steve Rogers on a roof one night, something changes. What happens when you run into him out of costume two months later at one of Stark’s infamous parties?

A/N: A One Night Stand type story came to me one night, and this was it. BUT, considering I’m incapable of writing that kind of content, this is what really came from that idea. I think it’s kind of fun, and I hope you guys will enjoy it!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong​

Pairing; StevexReader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: None

“It can’t be as serious as you’re making it out to be.”

“Matt, I swear on your stupid little glasses, it’s serious. He caught me on the roof after you abandoned me two months ago and then cornered me at that fucking Stark soiree you dragged me to last week. Something is going on, and I don’t think that I’m cut out for this shit!”

“Okay, but how do you even know he knew it was you?” Matt asks. “It’s not like he saw your face on that roof.”

“Have you never gone through any of their files? Rogers has a damn near eidetic memory and super hearing. You think he wouldn’t recognize my dumb voice?!”

"Your voice isn't dumb."

“Were you listening when I was talking to him?”

“Well… no, I wasn’t.”

“Then you don’t know that it wasn’t dumb when I was talking to him.”

“Since when are you all worked up over an Avenger?” Matt asks. His mouth quirks up in an amused smile. “Three months ago, you couldn’t care less about them.”

"Because it's Rogers," I hiss. "I know you can't physically see him, but the man is gorgeous."

"And?"

"And I'm still trying to figure out what the hell he was doing talking to me, of all people." Matt stops in the middle of the sidewalk and I turn back and stare at him. “What?”

He carefully navigates to the bench near the brownstone we just passed and sits down. “Sit.”

“Okay.” I plop down beside him. “Why?”

“You’re gonna tell me exactly what happened that first night.”

“On the roof?”

“Yes.”

“You already know what happened on the roof.”

“You’re being weird about this, so clearly there’s something you didn’t tell me.”

I drum my fingers against my lips and sigh. “Okay, well, you heard something I didn’t that night, abandoned me on the roof, and then…”

“Huh.” I freeze at the sound of a familiar voice. “Could’ve sworn I heard two voices.”

“That’s because you did. My, eh… colleague just abandoned me.”

“Colleague?” I can’t read his expression through his helmet, but he sounds amused.

“Yeah, I think he heard you bounding across rooftops and decided to be anywhere but here.”

“And yet you’re still here.”

“He has better ears than I do.”

Rogers tilts his head to the side. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” I snort in my attempt to keep from laughing. “I’m the eyes of the operation.”

“Judging by the way your shoulders are shaking, there’s a joke here that I’m not getting.”

“You ever met the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, Captain Rogers?” I ask.

“Can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure.”

“Yeah, well… keep up with these little midnight patrols, and you’re bound to bump into him.” I look him over, knowing full well that he can’t see me through the veil over my hood. “You seem like an observant guy. I’m sure you’ll get the joke eventually.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhm, really.”

He hooks his thumbs around his belt buckle. “So your colleague is Daredevil. What do they call you?”

“Eagle Eye,” I answer.

He tilts his head to the side. “Eagle Eye?”

“Well, you see, as apt as it would’ve been, Hawkeye was taken.” I lift one hand to the side of my face and, in a conspiratorial tone, say, “And by someone much cooler than me, might I add.”

Rogers laughs and I smile. “So what’s your deal then?”

“My deal?” I shrug and shake my head. “I have no deal.”

“But you hide your face.”

“I hide my everything, Captain. It’s part of my schtick.”

“Sounds like you’re hiding something.”

I snort. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Well… yes. That’s the point of highlighting something obvious.”

“I see. Well,” I move across the rooftop towards where Matt disappeared earlier. “This has been a real gas, but I’ve got places to be.”

I jump over the side and just barely manage to catch myself on the edge of the building when I hear him call out to me. I haul myself up enough to see him quickly drawing closer.

“Wait!” he says.

“What?”

“I have more questions I’d like to ask you.”

“I’m afraid I’m booked solid tonight, Captain. I’ll have to slot you in some other time.”

“But-”

I mockingly salute him and drop down to the alley below. “Catch ya later.”

I don’t wait for his response and disappear into the shadows as fast as I can manage.

“After that, I didn’t run into him,” I say. “It didn’t seem like he tried to follow me, and he was never close enough to put a tracker or whatever on me. As far as I know, there was nothing left to worry about.”

“Honestly, (Y/N), it sounds like you made yourself a mystery.”

“I did not.”

“Someone who covers their entire face and answers anything with more questions? You literally turned yourself into a walking puzzle.”

“Well how the hell was I supposed to talk to Captain America? With a “Yes sir, here’s my face, sir. Have a nice night, sir”? Absolutely not. He’s old, but he barely looks older than we are.”

“That doesn’t mean the man doesn’t deserve at least a little respect.”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t! And I wasn’t disrespectful towards him. I just wasn’t playing his game.”

“Because you didn’t have a buffer.”

“You abandoned me!”

“I didn’t abandon you. I just didn’t stick around when I heard trouble coming.”

“You’re an asshole, Matt Murdock.” I shake my finger at him. “Not many people would have the brass to tell you that, but I’m not scared of you and I don’t feel sorry for you.”

He just laughs. “Good. But that makes you and about five other people in this city.”

“Does it ever get old?” I ask. “Hearing the pity in people’s voices?”

“Well, yeah, but there’s relief too, sometimes. Like when they realize that I’m blind, they don’t have to worry about what they look like for once.”

I hum. “That makes sense. Especially in our little corner of the city.”

“Mhm.”

I jerk my thumb up the street. “Can we get going again?”

“Only if you tell me what happened at the party on the way to the café.”

“Again?”

“Yes, again.” I haul myself up from the bench before I offer Matt a hand and pull him to his feet. “Because now I feel like either I missed something when you first told me about it, or you did a terrible job of explaining yourself.”

“You’re forgetting the third option in which both of those could’ve verywell happened.”

“Could be. Anyway,” he bumps my arm with his elbow. “Start from the beginning.”

“Okay, well,” I offer him my elbow and he takes it and allows me to lead him down the sidewalk. “You dragged me with you to that party because you wanted to pass someone off as your guide, but I’m still convinced that you just wanted to force me to be social.”

“You need it sometimes, (Y/N).”

“Debatable. Regardless, you wandered off to talk to someone and I didn’t know anyone and didn’t know what to do with myself, so…”

Without Matt close to me, I quickly get overwhelmed by the steadily growing volume of the party and it feels like the large room is slowly growing more crowded. I spot someone returning to the party from one of the balconies and I immediately cross the room, slip through, the door, and out into the cool night air.

I lean heavily on the railing, eyes squeezed shut, and take deep, calming breaths. My panic drains away with each passing minute and, when I’m calm enough, I look out across the city and admire the view.

“It’s beautiful out tonight.”

I stand stock still. I know that voice.

I glance over my shoulder and find Captain Rogers standing in the doorway, staring up at the sky. His cheeks are rosy and he wears an easy smile.

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “I guess it is.”

He chuckles. “Sorry, I probably startled you, huh?”

I shrug. “A little, but you walk softly. There’s no way I would’ve heard you over the wind.”

“Mm, probably.” He moves to stand beside me and regards me silently. “Have we met before?”

I shake my head. “Can’t say that we have. Parties aren’t really my scene.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. “Parties like these are especially overwhelming.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He sighs and leans on the railing. “Tony’s parties can get pretty out of hand.”

“I could definitely see that happening, with all the people who showed up tonight.”

“Sometimes Thor will bring Asgardian mead with him.”

“Oh?”

He flashes me a grin. “Yeah, things can get interesting after that. It’s nice to actually loosen up.”

“Is it safe to assume that’s what happened tonight?”

He shoots me a grin. “What makes you say that?”

“You seem like the kind of guy who would stick with either his friends or his colleagues at this kind of shindig. Considering I’m neither of those things,” I shrug. “I guess there’s one conclusion to draw.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’m (Y/N), by the way.” I offer my hand and he shakes it.

“Oh, you came with, uh…” he snaps his fingers a few times, trying to recall the name. “Murdock, right?”

I nod. “Matt, yeah.”

“I think he’s a lawyer?”

“Mhm. Good one, too.”

“Well he’d have to be, working with us.”

“Wait, he’s worked for you guys?”

“A few cases, yeah.”

I shake my head. “Figures that’s how he’d get invited to a party like this.”

“Like what?”

“Funded by Tony Stark. Attended by the Avengers and just about every powerful person who could pass the background check.”

He smiles lopsidedly. “You think everyone here got screened?”

“Well, you knew who I came with, for starters. And I figure you guys throw these things to let loose, right? There’s no way you’d let a threat walk through the door on your night off. It’d kill the mood.”

“You’ve really thought this though, huh?”

I laugh. “I guess I kind of have.”

“You do that a lot?”

“What?”

“Overthink?”

“I… ” I frown. “Yeah, probably. Kind of a force of habit.”

He just nods and falls silent. He looks more relaxed than he did on the roof the first time we met. He gives no indication that he recognizes me, but I can’t just assume that he hasn’t figured it out, even if he truly is tipsy.

After about five minutes, he starts pointing out things around the tower that were different when he was a kid. The places he and his best friend would loiter. Which bodegas would let them take a candybar every once in a while as a reward for good grades. I rest my chin on my fist and listen intently as he explains. He winds up going off on a tangent about how different he thought the future would be.

“Lemme guess, you thought there’d be flying cars?”

“Yeah, actually,” he says. “I did. You should’ve seen the one Stark presented at the World’s Fair in forty-three.”

“As soon as time travel is a thing, I’ll have to go check it out.”

He laughs. “You know what I mean. The thing damn near blew up, but it hovered for a good ten seconds before it gave out.”

“Sounds like it would’ve been pretty impressive for the time.”

“It was! Buck was so excited about it.” He sighs and shakes his head. “He always liked stuff like that.”

“Sounds like you two were close,” I murmur.

“Yeah. We’re working back to it, but after everything that’s happened over the years, it’s gonna take a while.”

“If you’re both willing to put in the time, it’ll be worth the wait, won’t it?”

“I-yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“If what I’ve heard about the situation is true, and I haven't heard much, then you remember him as he was. And, not that I’m any kind of expert on this or saying that you should take my advice, but it’s hard to live up to an image that someone has of you when you know damn well you haven’t been that person for a long time.” He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and sighs. “Sorry, that was a little much. We don’t even know each other.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I hadn’t thought of it like that before.”

“Oh. Then you’re welcome? Maybe?”

“No, I definitely appreciate your perspective. Thank you.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pick it up immediately. I frown and Rogers shifts closer.

I open the text and frown. “Huh.”

“What is it?”

“It looks like Matt’s trying to find me.” I type out a quick response and turn the screen off. “I'm so sorry, I’m being called away.”

“No, I understand, you don’t need to apologize at all.”

“It’s been really nice talking with you.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. “You too.”

“Well…” I shove my phone into my pocket and back towards the door. “Have a nice night, Captain.”

“You too.” I smile at him and pull the door open. “Oh, (Y/N).”

I pause and look back at him. “Yes?”

“I…” His smile softens. “Call me Steve.”

“A-alright.” I glance into the tower and then to him. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight.”

“Then I left to find you and we went home.”

Matt steps through the door I hold open for him. “Well you definitely didn’t tell me what you’d talked to him about.”

“I did so!”

“You didn’t go into detail like you did just now. I didn’t know you gave him advice on his brainwashed best friend. That puts this in a completely different category.”

“Which is?”

“I think you’re kind of friends with him.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It sounds like he was comfortable around you.”

“You’d know better than I would.”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. You could have worse friends than Steve Rogers.”

Someone behind us says, “Well, I’d certainly like to think so.”

I grip Matt’s arm and he winces. I murmur, “Is that-?”

Matt nods. “Yup.”

“Ah. Well.”

Matt turns us around and greets him first. “Captain Rogers, it’s good to see you.”

“You too, Mr. Murdock.” He glances at me, then back to Matt. “Could I speak with (Y/N) for a moment?”

Matt nods. “Of course.”

“Go ahead and order without me,” I murmur.

He nods and turns back to the counter. I gesture for Steve to follow me to a table at the back of the café. We sit and stare at each other for a few minutes before I can't take it anymore and break the silence.

“So, um…” I chew at the inside of my cheek. “Hey.”

“Hi.” His eyes flit over my face. “How are you?”

“I’m alright.” I frown. “What’re you doing here?”

“You never called or texted. Did I do something wrong?”

“I… Steve, I don’t have your number.”

“I gave it to you last Saturday,” he says.

I think back to that night and shake my head. “You definitely didn’t.”

“Really? I could’ve sworn I did, just before you left.”

“You paused like you were gonna say something big, but then you asked me to call you Steve.” I hold my hands out in defense. “Not that you asking me to use your legal name isn’t a big deal, or anything, there just wasn’t any mention of phone numbers.”

His cheeks flush pink. “Then I apologize. I should’ve just asked instead of tracking you down like this.”

“Honestly, I’m just surprised that it was important enough to you to find me in the first place.”

“Why?”

“I’m a nobody who got lucky enough to be on that balcony at the same time as you. Even luckier that you even talked to me that night.”

“You’re not nobody, and you didn’t get lucky.”

“Wh-explain.”

“I saw you with Matt at the party and your build and the way you carried yourself seemed really familiar. So I watched you for a bit-” he notices my discomfort and backtracks. “I wasn’t stalking you or anything-”

I lift one eyebrow. “But you followed me out onto the balcony?”

“Yes.” He sighs and scrubs his hand over his face. “I wish I could blame the alcohol, but I was only slightly tipsy.”

“Just enough to be relaxed,” I say.

Steve nods. “What I’m trying to say is that I know you’re Eagle Eye.”

I grip the edge of the table. “What?”

“I wasn’t sure until I actually talked to you, and even then I figured I was just seeing what I wanted to.”

“What convinced you that you were right?”

“Your reaction just now.”

“Makes sense.”

“So I’m right?”

I nod. “Well, I never did have a good poker face.”

“Is that why you cover your face?”

“Among other things.” I lean back in my chair. “Did you figure out my little joke?”

He laughs. “About a week after we first met, yeah.”

“That true?” I ask. I look over Steve’s shoulder and see Matt nod. “Good for you, then.”

“How long have you known Mr. Murdock?” Steve asks.

I shrug. “Going on, maybe… seven or eight years now? We started working together about four years ago.”

“Which work?”

“Corporate type work. We started our nightly routine a year after.” I gesture to the counter. “Do you want anything? I’m kind of starving.”

“Uh, sure. Anything you’d recommend?”

“Their croissant sandwiches are pretty good. I usually just go with ham and cheese.”

“Then I’ll trust your judgment on that.”

I shove myself up from the table. “You want anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water?”

“I feel kind of bad giving you an order like this,” he admits.

“Don’t, I offered.”

“You sure?”

“Of course. Now,” I gesture dramatically. “Drink?”

He chuckles. “Just water, thanks.”

Jo greets me when I step up to the counter. She seems a little nervous, and I can’t really blame her.

She slides the sandwiches across the counter and asks, “Is that Captain America?”

I nod. “It is.”

“I thought you didn’t run with guys like that.”

“I don’t, usually, but Matt worked a couple of cases for the Avengers a while back and I got dragged along to a party with him because of it.” I tuck the sandwiches under my arm and grab the water and the cup of tea I ordered. “Now we’re here.”

She glances back at Steve. “Just make sure all my furniture is intact when you leave today. Replacing single chairs every few months isn’t cheap.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen, Jo.” I blow across the surface of my tea, dispersing the steam. “It’s a friendly visit, and I intend to make sure it stays that way.”

“Good.” She pauses, slow smile creeping onto his features. “He’s pretty handsome, (Y/N).”

I roll my eyes, but can’t help smiling. “I’m doing my best to not think about that right now.”

“Is he at least nice?” she asks. “I always thought he looked like he’d be a nice guy.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “He’s pretty nice.”

She grins. “At least there’s that.”

I head back to the table and pass Matt along the way. I tell him to head back to the office without me when he’s done and that I’d meet up with him later. He just nods and takes another bite of his sandwich.

I place Steve’s sandwich and water on the table in front of him before taking my seat. I immediately tear open a packet of sweetener and pour it into my tea. When It’s stirred in, I take a sip and lean back in my seat.

“I’m sure you have questions,” I say. “And I figure it’s only fair that I answer them, considering you spilled your guts to me at that party.”

“I did what?”

“You rambled about what New York was like when you were a kid.” I rest my chin in my hand and smile at the blush that creeps across his face. “It was cute.”

He focuses his gaze on the sandwich and starts to unfold the paper. He mumbles, “Well that’s kind of embarrassing.”

“I don’t think finding joy in your childhood is embarrassing. I think it’s a sign of a good childhood.”

“It wasn’t all good,” he says. “But I had good people around me.”

“And it sounds like you were happy.”

“Most of the time, I was. But that’s how it is for most kids, right?”

I shrug. “I guess.”

He picks up half his sandwich and, before he takes a bite, asks, “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, what was your childhood like?”

“It was fine. My parents were pretty strict about grades, but they just wanted me to succeed. When they found out about my abilities, they tried to capitalize on it a bit, but didn’t really push when I got bored.”

“Abilities?”

“Oh, right. I’m called Eagle Eye because of my enhancements. I’m like a low-level version of you. Enhanced strength, hearing, healing, speed, all that, to a slightly lesser degree. But the big thing is my eyesight.”

“So when you said you’re the eyes of the operation-”

“I meant it. My parents used it to their advantage when they started taking me to the range and putting me in shooting competitions.”

“Oh?”

“Everyone on my mom’s side is a fuckin gun nut. I’m not a huge fan of them, to be honest.”

“What’s your weapon of choice, then?”

“I’d prefer a bow and fistful of arrows to a gun any day.” I grin. “But I think knives are pretty fun. More versatile than a gun, and definitely more of a challenge. Playing cards will do, in a pinch.”

He laughs. “That’s kind of terrifying.”

“I know. At this point I use a beanbag gun and a few throwing knives, but that’s about all I carry.”

As I take a bite of my sandwich, he asks, “So what is it that you do?”

“Well, I started out as a bounty hunter.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m a bounty hunter and a masked vigilante.”

“When you say bounty hunter-”

“I mean someone who tracks down people evading arrest. I don’t hunt and kill people. Besides, Matt wouldn’t let me, even if I tried. Terminally good Catholic boy, and all that.”

“Mm, yeah I could see that.”

We talk as we eat. Steve asks more questions about my abilities and how I got them. I don’t have answers for him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. The conversation eventually turns to mundane things like art, literature, and sports. I don’t have strong opinions on New York baseball, but listening to Steve get worked up over it is entertaining. I find myself smiling more than I have in a very long time.

“You are so much more interesting than you let on, (Y/N).”

I roll my eyes and crush up the sandwich wrapper. “You’re just saying that because I threw out all three of my fun facts one after the other.”

“No, I’m not. I didn’t try to find you because I wanted an answer. I had a feeling about you when we talked at the party.”

“Oh, a feeling?” I laugh. “Sounds scary.”

“Is it?” he asks. “Because I don’t think it’s been this easy for me to talk to someone outside of my team for a very, very long time.”

“Pure exaggeration.”

“It really isn’t. A lot of people would’ve jumped at the chance to try and use this situation to their advantage. But I’ve been watching you try to talk yourself out of the possibility of there being something here.”

I clutch my tea between my hands and frown. I refuse to get my hopes up. “Something?”

“Some kind of connection,” he says.

“I’m gonna need you to paint me a really detailed picture here, because I don’t want to misinterpret what you’re saying.”

“(Y/N), I think that you’re interesting and intelligent and, uh…” he coughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck. “I think you’re attractive.”

“Oh,” I murmur, my voice suddenly very small.

“If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine, but I’d hate to just let this go, even if it’s just friendship.”

“It’s not that I don’t feel some kind of attraction to you, Steve. I’m just… I really am nobody.”

“Well I don’t think Matt thinks so. I’m sure the people that you help don’t think that. And I certainly don’t think so.”

“Even so-”

“You don’t have to make headlines for me to like you, okay?” His brows pull together and he reaches across the table and takes my hand. “I just want to be able to spend more time with you. Get to know you better. I don’t want to push you for anything you don’t want, especially considering we haven’t known each other all that long.”

I squeeze his hand. “Okay.”

His eyes light up. “Yeah?”

I smile and nod. “I’ll warn you, though. I move really slow with this kind of stuff.”

“So do I. But…” He runs his thumb over my knuckles and I relax just a little. “That just means I have ample time to get to know you. And that’s been the best part of this so far, anyway.”

“I’ll make no promises about showing up to Stark’s parties. But…” I cover the back of his hand with mine. “I have a few more questions about you.”

He grins. “Ask me anything, sweetheart.”

I don’t really know whether or not they’d be a long term thing in the end. Like as sweet as I think it’d be, all I can really think about are the shenanigans she and Clint would get up to when they’re introduced. I mean, two master marksmen in the same room? It just screams trouble.

I’d love to hear what y’all thought about this onshot! Do you think that Steve and the reader character make a sweet couple? Do you think they’d make it work? Or do you think they’d wind up just being friends in the end? Be sure to like, reblog, comment, and/or shoot me an and and tell me all about it!

If you’d like to be tagged in future fics, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @silas-aeiou, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @idalinette, @breezy1415, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​, @tomorraw​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @thisismysecrethappyplace​, @princess-unicorn124​, @hermionie-is-my-queen​, @avengerscompound​

[pinkoptics]

Would You Catch Me If I Fall?

aka Cherik Fallen Angel fic

Part 2 of Chapter 2

(Previous parts now on Ao3)

Erik is going to do everything he can to make sure Charles is taken care of. Charles saved his life. That’s why. Right… right???

*

“Mr. Olsen, I believe you will do exactly as I’ve asked.”

Mr. Olsen opened his mouth, to protest most likely, but Erik was well practiced in speaking in a way that left no room for interruption. “You will, because you are aware of the exact amount my firm has donated to your hospital this year and every other before it.”

Mr. Olsen was turning an interesting shade of red. It had nothing on Azazel, but the flush beneath his skin was making a concerted effort.

“You are also aware of what it would do to this hospital’s reputation for being at the forefront of mutant medicine if my firm were to very vocally withdraw its support and place it elsewhere, say... Johns Hopkins?”

“Mr. Lehnsherr—“ Still red, but now also sputtering. “You do not have the authority. Shaw would never—“

Erik smiled in such a way that Olsen cut himself off. Erik’s smile, though the word hardly applied, very early in his career had earned him the nickname ‘The Shark.’ Only used when he knew his prey was very much backed into a corner of their own making and it was time for the kill.

“If The Incident were to suddenly appear on social media again, with a narrative much closer to the truth...”

Red became purple. “We have an NDA! You can’t—“

“When information is out it is out, Mr. Olsen. Non-disclosures only hold weight if the parties involved care about the consequences. I could give a fuck. Besides, whether this hospital is guilty or innocent, reputations once ruined are terribly hard to salvage, aren’t they? Once, tried in the court of public opinion...”

“Shaw would— you’d be—“

Erik simply raised an eyebrow.

Olsen was right. Erik didn’t have the authority to stop donations, Shaw would have his job and his ass if he ever went to the public about any of the firm’s cases. Moreover, he would probably lose his license to practice. None of those things mattered however, not because Erik truly didn’t care, but because Olsen only needed to believe he was serious. If Erik couldn’t sense the man’s weaknesses, and couldn’t exploit them, he would hardly have been the best lawyer at his firm (no matter what Emma said to the contrary). The seed of doubt, once planted in a weak mind, was notoriously difficult to weed out.

“Fine,” Olsen ground out. Looking like he was very much sucking on a lemon.

Erik levitated the paperwork he had prepared by its staple. It was accompanied by one of the disgustingly expensive fountain pens the firm utilized to perpetuate its reputation. It hovered in front of the sour countenance and Erik felt the same sense of satisfaction he did after a particularly shrewd cross examination.

Threatening Olsen in this way was beyond overkill.

However, Erik knew of nothing else that would resolve Charles’ situation as swiftly. As Olsen scratched out his signature nearly hard enough to tear paper, Charles’ need for insurance, identity, and anything else he did not have, vanished.

Besides, he’d never liked this man or this hospital, so if he got to have a little fun while getting Charles what he needed, all the better. The faster he could get Charles out of here unscathed the better. He owed him that much, possibly more. There were few people insane enough, selfless enough, to throw themselves in front of a car for a stranger. Erik had made it his life’s work to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves. Charles had more than earned that same protection until he was back to his former self.

T’s crossed and i’s dotted, Erik left Olsen to fume, so he could share the good news with Charles. The words that had been leaping forward died on his lips when he took in the state of Charles’ room.

“. . . Did you rob a florist?”

Charles graced him with a much less hysterical, much more pleasant sounding laugh than he had any time previously.

“Aren’t people just lovely? This one is from the nurse on call, Ben. He has the most adorable little boy. Teething at the moment, which is trying of course, but he’s so precious one can hardly be cross. I’m sure Ben would be happy to show you the photos too. This one is from Dr. Yousef, whom you’ve already met. She detests flowers, personally, as she’s never home consistently enough to care for them properly. This one is from Saima...”

While Charles no longer appeared to be in a state of hysteria, it appeared to be Erik’s turn, and he became suddenly, hysterically deaf. Had he misplaced a day? Or two? More? Was he the one with the head injury?

“Did you— I mean, do you know them?”

Charles cut off his still in-progress monologue about his sudden and inexplicable well-wishers.

“Oh no. We’ve just met. Nancy would like to get coffee when I’m better though. I believe that is a cultural expression of friendship, is it not? Or does coffee equal sex? It’s so hard to keep track of these things as humans rarely say what they truly mean. Why do you lot insist upon speaking in code? A code that changes every generation no less. Regardless, I’ve never had coffee. Given how utterly obsessed with it you all are I’m rather excited to find out what all the fuss is about.”

Erik didn’t know what part of that to address first, if at all.

Ben, Yousef, Saima... who the fuck was Nancy?

Sex?

Never had coffee?

“Oh Erik, I’m sorry. You look so confused again. I forget myself. I would much rather have coffee for the first time with you of course. At that diner you speak so highly of. I believe diners generally serve coffee.”

Erik blinked. Did that mean Charles wanted to be his friend or have sex with him? Or, did never having had coffee actually mean never having had sex? No. Wait. What in the fuck were they talking about?

What came out was, mercifully, “You make friends quickly.” This was something he and Charles certainly didn’t share.

“Do I?” Charles shrugged. “I love people. All people. They’re so fascinating.” Something else he and Charles certainly didn’t share. In his experience, most people were dull or cruel or both. Except Charles. Charles had been the exact opposite of dull or cruel right from the first. Crashing headfirst into Erik, literally and figuratively, and smashing all his expectations of what people did or didn’t do for one another. It might have also been the head injury/amnesia mitigating the dullness, making him say the most ridiculous things that Erik had ever heard and couldn’t even begin to sort out, but Erik didn’t really think so. He read people extremely well and Charles intrigued him. No one intrigued him.

Shoving the friends/coffee/sex equivalency conversation aside, Erik patted his briefcase. “I’ve sorted out everything with hospital administration. You won’t have to worry about insurance, bills... if there’s anything you need, just ask. They will be sure you get it.”

“I won’t ask how you managed it.” Charles’ look became conspiratorial. Almost as if he did know Erik’s methods. There was no way, of course, that he did unless he was a telepath, which Erik had already briefly mused on. “You really needn’t have troubled yourself, though I appreciate it, you, all the same.”

There it was again. The strange gravity his words seemed to possess. Erik flushed, not something he ever did, feeling that appreciation to his core. Charles’ smile deepened and somehow held the same weight as his words. Looking at it was almost too much, like looking straight at the sun, it warmed parts of Erik he hadn’t even realized were cold.

“You can stay with me,” Erik said, apropos of nothing, then flinched, his own words surprising him. It wasn’t the offer he had intended to make. The Firm put people up all the time for various reasons, and Erik had planned to slip Charles in to one of his current cases with no one the wiser. The doctor felt certain it wouldn’t be long until his memory returned, based on her previous experience of such cases.

Charles’ astonishment seemed to match his own. “Erik, that’s too much. You’ve done so much already.”

Erik rubbed at the back of neck, avoiding Charles’ eyes, which were comically, anime-wide. While he hadn’t meant to make the offer, he also found now that he had, he also had no sense of regret. His flat was large, he practically lived at the firm, so it would hardly be an inconvenience and the less he abused his position, the less tracks he had to cover.

He coughed, “There’s always Nancy.” Erik hoped the joke would break the sudden tension. “You could take her up on her ambiguous offer.” Charles laughed. Success.

“Coffee, and whatever else it may suggest, is a far cry from living together. Besides, I don’t even know Nancy.”

“You don’t know me either. You may have unwittingly saved a sociopath the world would be better without.”

Charles shook his head. “Don’t be absurd. You’re a good man, Erik. Better than you know.”

Everything about this was absurd.

“It’s settled then, when they discharge you, you can stay with me until we figure out who you are.”

Charles’ face, which Erik was already beginning to realize was nakedly expressive, came over suddenly unreadable.

“I—“ Charles hesitated, eyes flicking away from Erik to the window. Erik supposed coming to live with any stranger was enough to give anyone pause, especially someone who was as disoriented as Charles must already be. He was about to shift back to his original, much less awkward, plan when Charles’ gaze focused back on him. “All right. Until... until then.”

“Until then,” Erik echoed and they both fell suddenly silent.

He was inviting someone to live with him when he had never lived with anyone besides his mother his entire life. Roommates? Please. Erik had never had to, but would have rather lived in a squalid apartment than have to share a living space with anyone, even when putting himself through the extraordinary expenditure of american law school. Yet, here he was. Here they were. It felt right. Perhaps he had an overabundance of gratitude and quid pro quo to sate. It was the only thing that made any sense in the face of something that made absolutely no sense.

He’d probably regret it the instant Charles was in his space, but he also wasn’t someone who went back on his word, so he was taking in this stray whether he came to regret it or not.

Mama, at least, would approve.

*

Now on Ao3

Thanks for reading!!

[youwontlikethisblog]

I'm not a woman of my word lol

LMBO SCREW IT I'LL TALK ABOUT MORE THAN ONCE SCENE JUST DON'T EXPECT IT TO BE GOOD(honestly I want to binge watch the entire show but then see one thing and I'm like this deserves an entire post!)

Betty brings him his caldo and he gets in the way and takes it from her hands and thanks her. The phone rings and she rushes to her office and Mario mocks him by saying "Oh but she spoils you" Armando then turns to look at Betty's office like he realized that she is like that with him.

However the moment is ruined, remember again how when Mario told Armando that Nicolas was after their money even then Armando didn't want to continue with the plan but now that he hears Betty's conversation with Nicolas all of a sudden 'it's for the good for the company I must make her fall in love'. This clashes stupidly with the actions before.

"Ay Betty, I don't know if I woke up with my liver or brain because everything is still party, praty, point is I woke up with a pretty bad hangover."

Betty not once has gotten mad, showed annoyance or really indicated to Armando that she personally cares about him and his hangover as she tells him that the caldo is only because he needs to be on his best for the sake of the company's benefit.

Now Armando hears Betty upset with Nicolas over his drinking as she says:

"Ay no, Nicolas. Don't tell me you started to drink with him."

Nicolas goes on to say he is an easy prey to peer pressure and that the word no is not in his vocab that if she sees it floating around there to send it his way.

"I just don't like for you to go into those kinds of places where you spend it drinking." now Armando seems annoyed and Mario looks at him shocked at what he's hearing.

Armando and Mario have now first hand witnessed the dynamic of Nicolas and Betty in the work world. Nicolas informs Betty of the situation Eco Moda/Terra Moda is facing and Betty calls the shots. Just like Betty had told them two days before.

So it shouldn't be a cause of concern as now Betty proceeds to tell them exactly what went down, again showing that they are trustworthy.

I don't have to explain once more who is concerned and worry about who and what. *See the Betty, My Betty posts 1-3

Mario then tells Armando(After he[Mario] sent off a guilty Betty to get some paperwork from Marcela) that he doesn't like that Nicolas is becoming friends with the lawyers and he needs to prepare for a sober night with Betty.

Armando doesn't say anything.

Again, it could not be more clear who is actually distrusting in this situation.

Betty walks into Marcela's office and after she sees she's busy she goes off on a daydream, more like a day-nightmare as we see the penance of her guilty conscious accuse her in the form of Marcela.

As Betty returns to their offices Patty stops her and asks when she's getting her paycheck, to which Betty replies that she doesn't know but sometime that weekend and goes to Armando's office.

In there she gently shuts the door and in a low tone tells him that Marcela didn't have the papers. Armando now turns away from her and gives her his back, again this could show guilt but also anger(that she showed more concern over Nic being hungover than him) as he doesn't want to see her. Betty then proceeds to ask him if he's alright to which he replies that he has a hellish headache.

Betty tells him she'll get him some pain relief and picks up the tray of dishes to take with her. In this moment as Betty nears the door Patty opens the doors loudly and starts to yell.

Betty looks mad at Patty as she is yelling at Armando.

Why does she?

Betty has been very, extremely, attentive to Armando, more than the usual. She's taken notice of his demeanor, respected his evasiveness, spoken in a more hushed voice, gotten him food to get him to feel better, hasn't made much noise knowing that he's hungover and trying to keep his office peaceful and calm as well as instantly telling him she'd get him some relief for his headache but in an instant all of her efforts to keep him well are brought down by Patty who goes to at yell at him for her paycheck.

One: well she legit threw away all her work to keep Armando at peace

Two: she doesn't like that Patty is yelling at him and accusing her.

"[...] Betty when will it be possible to pay this...bleach blonde?"

Betty clears her throat and gently speaks "until this weekend. I had already talked to her about it, Sir."

More talking, Armando asks Betty to bring him what she promised and she tells him "right away" and leaves, Patty then pushes her away and Betty gently shuts his office doors.

She returns with the alka-seltzer and a glass of water for him and sets it in front of him. He once again keeps his eyes low.

Betty jokingly tells him that she warn him not too drink too much and now he's got a bad hangover and she laughs lightly. She then tells him she'll go get the paperwork from Marcela once more and asks if Mario has his too.

As she leaves the office Armando looks in pain because of his headache and again, guilty.

Betty stands outside Marcela's office door as she hear her and Patty talk bad about how she's dressed and how embarrassing it must've been for Armando to be seen with her the night before. They start to insult her and downplay Betty and she visibly looks upset but not in a sad way but angry.

This pushes Betty to not feel guilty over the entire situation(affair to be) with Armando.

This is her first mistake.

Her second being she is permitting herself to be involved and a willing participant in an affair with an engaged man. Armando isn't the only one to blame about this. They are both responsible and at fault for the dissolving of a (toxic) relationship and engagement. Did he make the first advances? Yes but at the end when the ball was in her court she willinging decided to throw her shot. This was her biggest sin, up to this point.

Betty is now talking about the sales report that Marcela gave her and the money they have to pay the banks. She then tells him that she'd like to talk to Mario regarding his reports. Armando has his shades, covering with his hand around his eyes, again he isn't able to make eye contact with Betty and doesn't want her to see him.

He then removes his shades and while explaining that Mario might be busy he tries to make eye contact but again looks away from her.

They both agree to wait for Mario and FINALLY after everything that has happened they make eye contact.

The previous times that Armando and Betty have had to wait for someone to call, or show up to the office Betty stared at Armando who would then catch her and tell her to get going or basically kicked her out of his office however this time it plays out differently.

They make eye contact for a minute or so.

While Armando is tense but staring at Betty she starts to get fidgety in her seat and says "I'll go wait in my office, Sir."

This time Betty is the one that removes herself and not Armando basically kicking her out or sending her away from him.

(I just realized I finished my cheese crackers and this makes me sad)

Armando then calls Mario to please get to his office that he can't be by himself with Betty anymore.

Now something happened with Sofia bla bla bla.

Mario shows up at Armando's office and asks if anything has happened, if she has exceeded herself with bla bla bla and Armando tells him that nothings happened.

"She talks about the banks, the payroll, about the loans, she talks about everything minus what we need to talk about." Armando (WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THE KISS WITH BETTY HE WANTS TO BE VULNERABLE WITH HER. Okay now that my irrational side has let lose let's get to the objective writer side.) displays a classic behavior of confusion and sadness.

"Which is?" Mario shrugs.

"Well what happened last night. Calderon, I don't know if this is right or wrong but I'm starting to feel really awful. I feel really uncomfortable when I'm by myself with her. The only thing she's scolded me for is this hellish hangover I've got."

Armando isn't scared that Betty is going to take advantage of him or cross lines. He feels uncomfortable because Betty won't talk about it, like it's not a big deal or important to her. He feels uncomfortable with the silence of it all and he's having to fill in the blanks.

Now Marcela and Sofia are talking about about Jasmine and Sofia getting fired.

The other day I was writing a draft for Armando's toxic behavior(I said I'd write a post dedicated to just his toxic/abusive tendencies) and hit this wall of realization. While to some degree I connect with Marcela being a victim of gaslighting, to another it's really hard to understand why she is in the relationship even though she shows no sign of insecurity or bad self-image/worth or threaten to stay. See when I was in this terrible toxic friendship I was gaslit to the point that their perception of me became mine I still remember the exact day I looked at myself in the mirror and broke down in tears calling myself ugly(I'm fine now lol) and I still remember the feelings I felt every time I was given the cold-shoulder and silent treatments as a form of punishment for calling the out on their lies while having witnesses(Now I wasn't a saint sometimes my anger would blind me and I'd say pretty mean stuff. This is why I call it a toxic friendship). To this day I feel shame for that and find ways to blame myself for it all. Gaslighting isn't just manipulation it is the warping of someone's reality and their understanding of the world surrounding them. It really messes you up.

So as much as I want to be understanding of Marcela and find excuses as to why she stays that don't have to do with her ego, I can't.

The thing is that when you are a victim of abuse you don't have an ego. You don't stay with the person because you believe they're the only person you'll ever love, no, you stay because you believe they are the only person who will ever love you and these are two very different mindsets.

In this episode you can see that. Marcela doesn't have bad self-image or self-worth. She thinks she's above the women that Armando sleeps with. She believes she's above Betty. She has a pretty big ego. She often places herself before anyone. She takes Armando's decisions as personal attacks which means she believes to be the center of his universe. All of these are characteristics of someone with a big ego. She doesn't compare herself to Armando's conquest but rather blames them for his affairs. They're the bad ones because they decided to sleep with him(yes they are to blame because they are aware of his relationship statues but so is Armando and she needs to hold that fool accountable as well) because Armando is just a fool who likes to shove it where he can, as long as they've got statues. She knows Armando has a strict palate for women and the fact the he is marrying her means she's the best of the best, even with affairs being involved.

I can go on and on about this which is why I'm dedicating a post to Marcela just about this(It's in my drafts. I need to watch the rest of the show to really understand her character. I don't just want to be like "Marcela is the only abuser" because she's not. ) Anyway this scene just reminded me of that because here she displays that boastful attitude as she tells Sofia to behave and have dignity regarding Jasmine working there and that she'll talk to Guti Guti regarding the cuartel being fired for standing with Sofia but that she'll accept Betty's resignation letter.

(Honestly watching Bertha eat Ruffles makes me crave them rn)

The ending of this episode is Marcela kissing Armando good-bye and telling him she'll wait for him at her apartment.

This wasn't a heavily emotional episode so there isn't much to breakdown however the small bits we do get move the plot forward and are details that are important to the coming episodes.

The one scene I am really looking forward to breaking down, that totally highlights this whole "Armando is in denial" plot is the one where he fights Roman and his friends.

But until then I'll see y'all next time!

[thatesqcrush]

Ringin’ in a Brand New Year

Rafael Barba x Reader x Bryan Kneef. Our favorite throuple is back! NSFW for smut - p in v, anal, oral sex, frotting, money shot,etc. Who wouldn’t want to spend the last night of 2020 with these two?

AN: Fireside for holiday bingo.

WC:2184

**

You sat in the lobby of STR Laurie, waiting to be brought back to Bryan’s office. You had with you an overnight bag and a hard-shell rolling suitcase.  After all the wild days and nights spent during Christmas while in New York, you were excited to be spending New Year’s Eve at home in Chicago. Rafael was flying in from New York to be with both of you. The plan was to pick him up from O’Hare and then go right to Bryan’s apartment.

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

You looked up and met the eyes of one of STR Laurie’s employees. The dark-haired man smiled at you. “Right this way – Mr. Kneef is waiting for you.” Another employee of the firm came out and took your belongings. You walked through the large office space which was bustling with employees, some more frenzied than others. 

As you rounded a corner, you ran into the very familiar face of one of the bathroom Bettys from the holiday party. Her face reddened at the sight of you. You winked at her and she averted her eyes, scurrying off.

You took the spiral staircase up to Bryan’s office and his assistant rapped on the door quietly, before opening the door for you.

Bryan was on the phone and he scowled at the interruption. However, at the sight of you, his face softened and he quickly terminated his call. He made his way over and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Hey gorgeous.” Bryan greeted. You allowed him to tilt your head towards his. His lips were warm and soft and they pressed gently against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss, standing slightly on the tips of your toes. He responded by pressing his mouth against yours with more force, sliding his tongue into your mouth. He wrapped one arm around your waist, keeping you pinned against him. You reluctantly broke the kiss. Your lipstick was smeared, and Bryan felt a jolt go straight to his cock.

“Do you have much more to do? Or can we go soon?” You asked, breathless.

“Nope.” Bryan replied. His voice was low and gravelly. “How was the ride over?”

You shrugged. “Eh, I am done. And done for the week - that place can be... “ Your face was troubled as you thought of work. You let out a sigh and plastered a smile on your face. “Looking forward to spending time with you and Rafael. But we should get going so we can meet him when he lands.”

“You really should come work here. Be my assistant.” Bryan replied, stroking your chin with his thumb. “I’ll make sure you’re paid well. That job of yours just doesn’t appreciate you.”

“Bryan we all know if I come work here – and for you, no work will ever get done.” You rolled your eyes.

“Is that so terrible?” Bryan asked as he led you out, his hand on the small of your back.

You sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

**

You looked out the window as Bryan sped through the streets of Chicago. “Hey – this isn’t the way to O’Hare. Where are we going?”

“Glad you noticed.” Bryan replied as he switched lanes as if he were playing Mario Kart. “Rafael caught an earlier flight. He’s waiting for us at my place.”

Bryan saw how your face lit up as he waited to make a left turn. “I can’t wait for us to ring in the New Year.”

“You know, they say whatever you do at midnight on New Year’s Eve, is what you’ll be doing for the rest of the year.” You mused.

“Considering my plan is to fuck you and Rafael – well, I am one lucky son of a bitch.” Bryan chuckled.

**

The aromas coming from Bryan’s apartment were delicious. You and him walked into Rafael busily whisking away. He wore a black apron with gold lettering and had a New Year’s hat on.

“Rafi!” You broke out of Bryan’s grasp and ran to him. You threw yourself onto the handsome prosecutor, who barely had a second to drop what he was doing. He took a few steps back as you leapt into his arms. He held you tightly as you pressed your lips to his.

“I’ve missed you.” He murmured, pushing back some of your hair from your face. “I was making dinner for us. As a surprise.”

“Hey asshole.” Bryan approached, and pulled Rafael  away from you so he could give him a kiss. “I missed you too.”

“Did I say I didn’t miss you?” Rafael’s eyebrow arched. You turned to Bryan and stepped in between them, holding your arms out.

“Boys. Play nice.” You warned.

Both men’s equally green eyes darkened. “I am pretty sure you don’t like to play nicely at all.” Rafael quipped.

“I’m just saying…” You pushed Rafael away playfully. “We’ll all get what we want in due time.” You turned to Bryan. “Dinner first, dessert later.”

Bryan walked over to his liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine – your favorite – a Malbec – and bourbon for him and Rafael. “I’m hungry… just not for dinner.”

You felt a shiver go up your spine with his words. You wanted to abandon all ideas for dinner, but your stomach rumbled loudly, causing Rafael to snicker.

“Rafael – how much longer?” You whined, turning on the balls of your feet.

“Soon – so don’t get any ideas.”

Dinner was penne with passata with lots of herbs, garlic, sundried tomatoes and onions. There was some shop talk, as lawyers tend to do, and then the attention was turned on you, with your work. Dinner eventually wound to a close. After clean-up, you each had a bit more to drink. This time you opted for tequila for all. You all relaxed around the fireplace as you sipped the on what was surely one of the most expensive and aged añejos on the market. You were all ready for the what the evening had in store.

There was a brief discussion – more of a reaffirmation – of consent and you went to go freshen up while Bryan went to get some blankets out of storage and Rafael stoked the fireplace.

It did not take you long to get ready. You were in a knit sleep romper with long sleeves  that had a dangerously v-neck. The bottoms were cheeky and you had a feeling both men would approve.

When you came back out, both men were standing naked on the blankets that Bryan had laid out. There was an arrangement of lubes and condoms strewn about. Both men were kissing, grinding their cocks against one another. It always took your breath away at how beautiful they were together; it made your eyes burn to view such wanton desire. Both men crumpled to the ground, in a mass of questing hands. The fire popped and cracked, much like the sexual energy in the room. You watched as Bryan made his way down Rafael’s body, trailing kisses and licks down a path. Rafael’s hips jerked as Bryan took him in his mouth. Rafael turned his head to you and your eyes meet.

“Bry—” Rafael choked out. Bryan pulled off Rafael and turned towards you as well.

“Well, well, well. Seems like we have someone feeling very needy.” Bryan husked – his voice was low and rough.

“Oh yes, daddy.” You walked toward them and dropped to your knees. “So needy.”

“Then, go. Suck Rafael’s cock. Prove your worth to us.” Bryan growled, shoving you further. You swallowed Rafael’s cock and Bryan’s hands immediately sifted through your hair, guiding you on his cock.

“That’s right, take that cock down.” Bryan encouraged. His hands trailed up your sides and then to the front of your pajamas, cupping your tits. His hands slipped inside and you let out a muffled moan as his fingers tugged, rubbed, and pinched on your nipples. Meanwhile Rafael was bucking his hips into your mouth as you continued to blow him. You flattened your tongue as licked his shift, running over every vein and ridge, before blowing gently on the head. The salt of his pre-cum flooded your mouth and it made your pussy throb. Bryan must have been a mind reader, because he palmed you in between your legs, feeling how hot you were.

You briefly pulled off Rafael. You sat on your haunches and tugged down your pajamas before standing to remove everything entirely. You returned to all fours, blowing Rafael. Bryan ran his hands over your ass. You gasped his name loudly as he pressed his face into your cheeks and began to fuck you relentlessly with his tongue. The exquisite torture of his beard rubbing against the sensitive folds of your hot cunt drove you wild. You pushed back, trying to get more of him on you.

Bryan’s teeth graze against your flesh, biting gently but firmly. You felt his cock nudge against your folds, and you realized that he was getting ready to fuck you. You heard the sound of foil ripping in the distance. Bryan reached for the lube and drizzled it right over your ass, watching with delight as the lube ran down your ass cheeks. He rubbed some of it into your cheeks and then gathered it on his fingers. You felt of his index finger trace little circles around your tight rosebud and you shivered involuntarily.

“Look at that beautiful little asshole.” Bryan rumbled, as he worked a finger inside of you, loosening you up. You mewled in pleasure, enjoying how he stimulated the erotic nerve endings in preparation of your body for penetration.

You felt him slide his condom covered cock into your ass. Normally Bryan enjoyed going raw with you, but for what was literally and figuratively, come, you needed him to wear one. His balls rested against you and you knew he was as deep as he could be. Bryan let out an animalistic groan as he began to fuck you, the sound of skin on skin filled the room.  

“Yes, Y/N, take that cock.” Bryan grunted as he looked down, watching his cock disappear in and out of you.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, daddy, give it to me.” You begged before swallowing Rafael’s cock once more. Bryan pounded into you. He began to fuck you – slowly at first, and then picking up the pace, his balls smacked against you with every thrust. You continued to suck on Rafael’s cock, working him with even more enthusiasm. The wet sounds of your mouth filled the room joining the grunts of both men. Bryan’s cock was deep and as he reached around to rub your swollen clit, it felt as if every nerve ending was on fire.

Meanwhile you knew from the way Rafael’s thigh muscles were twitching, that he was close to coming. Bryan slowed his momentum, before withdrawing completely. You let out a wrecked moan – you had been close – so close.

“Go ride that pretty cock.” Bryan murmured in your ear. You nodded and climbed over Rafael, letting out a sigh as you sunk onto his cock. Rafael’s hands were on your hips, digging hard. You knew you’d have a smattering of fingerprints in the morning.

You rolled your hips meeting Rafael’s thrusts. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop papi.”

“Never. This is our pussy.” Rafael grunted. Bryan reached around you and began to rub your clit haphazardly, bringing you to the precipice.

“I’m going to… I am so… oh daddy!” Your voice trailed off, feeling your own orgasm approach again.

“Come for us – come for daddy and papi.” Bryan encouraged as he continued stroking you. You came violently, wailing their names. Your ears went pop, sound was fuzzy as the tendrils of your orgasm washed over you.Rafael rolled you over, so you were on your back, your legs by your ears, and he began to pound into you. Bryan knelt by your head and took off the condom,. You turned your head and he shoved his cock into your willing mouth. You felt so complete – with Rafael deep in your pussy and Bryan’s cock in your mouth.  

Bryan was first to come in your mouth, shuddering and grunting your name. His come spurted into your mouth in ropes. Bryan pulled away and Rafael slid out of you. You knew what he was going to do – as it was pre-planned. You scrambled to your knees and you kept your mouth open, still full of Bryan’s release. Rafael stroked himself furiously and as he came, Bryan swallowed his cries with his mouth. Rafael’s release covered your face and mouth, mixing with Bryan’s release. You took Rafael’s cock back in your mouth, giving him a few final sucks.

Finally, you pulled off and swallowed what was left. The mix of their releases and your spit made quite the impact. Bryan gripped your messy chin with his index finger and thumb. He then dipped down to kiss you, tasting the mix of him and Rafael on your mouth.

“Good girl. Well done.” He rumbled. Rafael made his presence known, gently wiping your face with a warm damp towel.

Both men showered you with praise and adoration, making you feel secure and cared for, even if you were their own personal sex toy. Eventually, you all fell asleep together, a mess of limbs, holding onto one another against the fireplace, as the year shifted anew. You couldn’t wait for all of the adventures that would come.

**

Tags: @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper @lv7867​ @permanentlydizzy​ @bisexual-dreamer02​ @madamsnape921​ @averyhotchner​ @teamsladsandgents​ 

[maladjusted-nerd]

Starsky and Hutch’s Girlfriends (and Their Hair Color)

[PBS announcer voice] This post is brought to you by the time I was reading The Ollie Report for Bounty Hunter and came across the memorable line: “Again, Starsky is drawn to the dark-haired girl, Hutch to the blonde. Exogamists they are not.”

These are the two ladies in question, respectively:

I thought of this quote a lot as I continued watching the show, because it was quite often relevant. But then I got to Starsky’s Lady, and suddenly Hutch’s date wasn’t a blonde! I began to wonder about the quote, and the truth of the sentiment behind it (which is by no means specific to that one blog). Did Hutch really tend to go for the blondes, and Starsky for the dark-haired women?

So like any sane person, I decided to spend a billion hours of my life making a long-ass photo-heavy meta post that hopefully someone will care about. If anyone actually finds this information interesting or useful I will be happy, buuut I guess if nothing else it gives us an excuse to look at a bunch of pretty ladies.

How did I decided who’s here: I started with the list of women from the Canon Compendium’s Girlfriends and Dates page, added anyone whom I felt the boys made a “concerted effort” to flirt with, and then threw out a few people I didn’t think belonged. I tried my hardest to be objective, but making this list was by no means an exact science and several times it really just boiled down to “do I personally believe she should be on here” so like people will have different opinions on that and it’s fine! Spice of life or whatever.

As for the actual contents of the list: I will state each woman’s name and the episode she’s in. (If she doesn’t have a name she’s listed as Jane Doe. This is a cop show, after all.) I will state her hair color-- for Reasons and also My Sanity the only options are “blonde” or “darkhaired” (not blonde), but hair color is fucking weird and sometimes it was a guess so feel free to think otherwise. I will also state the reason that she’s here, aka the nature of her relationship with Hutch or Starsky (or both)-- so spoiler warning for pretty much everything, I guess.

Also fair warning that sometimes I was too lazy to get a good picture, or it was just actually impossible (newsflash: discos have bad lighting). Rip to any women I may have made look bad, you’re all beautiful queens and I love you.

Pre-Show

Vanessa (Hutchinson Murder One)- Darkhaired. Hutch’s late ex-wife and all-around terrible person.

Laura Kanen (Deckwatch)- Blonde. Hutch’s ex-girlfriend.

Helen Davidson (Lady Blue)- Blonde. Starsky’s late ex-girlfriend.

Kathy Marshall (Fatal Charm)- Darkhaired. A stewardess friend of theirs; it’s never said she’s an ex BUT she kisses Hutch square on the mouth in greeting and is Starsky’s date for dinner/disco. And she dances with both of them. Good enough for me!

Season 1

Hutch

Jeannie Walton (The Fix)- Blonde. His girlfriend at the start of the episode but not by the end! (Rip king)

Molly (Pariah)- Darkhaired. Stewardess friend/one-night stand? Something like that. Also his date at the end.

Jane Doe (Deadly Imposter)- Blonde. His date at the party.

Abigail Crabtree (Deadly Imposter to Vendetta)- Blonde. The only girlfriend we see in several episodes!! (The only girlfriend that lasts several episodes, whoops.)

Starsky

Jane Doe (Pariah)- Blonde. His date at the end.

Jane Doe (Deadly Imposter)- Darkhaired. His date at the party.

Amy (The Hostages)- Darkhaired. She works at a café that he’s going to for a second time, to let her know he’s ~available.

Sharman Crane (Running)- Darkhaired. They had a semester of woodshop together in junior high and then they kind of fall in love while he’s helping her dry out.

Season 2

Hutch

Abby (Deadly Imposter to Vendetta)- Still blonde. Miraculously still his girlfriend. (Until she isn’t.)

Gillian Ingram (Gillian)- Blonde. His now-late girlfriend who fucking deserved better.

Jane Doe (Gillian)- Blonde. Lady at the bowling alley that Starsky discreetly tries to set him up with.

Christine (Starsky’s Lady)- Darkhaired. His date of the episode.

Starsky

Vicky (The Las Vegas Strangler)- Darkhaired. They don’t really get a chance to go on an official date but they kiss a bunch and he’s really sweet on her and it’s cute.

Andrea (Vendetta)- Darkhaired. His picnic date.

Nancy Rogers (Gillian)- Darkhaired. His bowling date.

Terry Roberts (Starsky’s Lady)- Darkhaired. His now-late girlfriend who, like Gillian, also fucking deserved better.

Laura Stevens (The Velvet Jungle)- Blonde. They’re on a date at the end, but it should also be noted they meet when she accidentally knocks him into a dumpster. You know, like the start of any good romance.

Sharon Freemont (Starsky and Hutch Are Guilty)- Blonde. His evil lawyer girlfriend. (Not that he knows she’s evil.)

Both

Jane and Bobette (The Vampire)- Jane is the blonde on the right, Bobette is the darker blonde on the left. Starsky and Hutch mix up their names so it’s hard to tell which girl they actually like better, and also they’re twins so like does it even really matter?

Officer Sally Hagen (The Specialist)- Darkhaired. Starsky kisses up her arm in her first scene (someone please file a workplace harassment suit against him), and then at the end he and Hutch keep wrapping their arms around her waist. But she does get to flip both of them over her shoulder, so it kinda evens out.

Season 3

Hutch

Dianna Harmon (Fatal Charm)- Darkhaired. His possessive, violent nurse girlfriend. (You can really pick ‘em, Hutchinson.)

Dr. Judith Kaufman (The Plague)- Darkhaired. He tries so hard, but twas not meant to be.

Molly Bristol (The Collector)- Darkhaired. His girlfriend du jour.

Anna Akhanatova (A Body Worth Guarding)- Blonde. He’s technically her bodyguard and then they spend like two whole days making out. Good for them.

Mary (Class in Crime)- Blonde. His fishing date.

Starsky

Jane Doe (Murder on Playboy Island)- Darkhaired. Undercover agent he flirts with at the bar.

Rosey Malone (I Love You Rosey Malone)- Blonde. The entire plot revolves around him falling in love with her and it really doesn’t end well.

Jane Doe (The Collector)- Darkhaired. His date at their late-night deli party. (Bonus Starsky in the picture, hi Starsky!)

Sharon Carstairs (The Heavyweight)- Blonde. Their canoodling on his couch gets interrupted by Important Case Matters, and she winds up getting re-engaged to her ex-fiancé (ex-ex-fiancé?). Rip to a king.

Rachel (Class in Crime)- Darkhaired. His fishing date.

Caitlin (Class in Crime)- Her hair almost has a red tint but it’s otherwise undefinable. Car saleslady/one-night stand.

K.C. McBride (Quadromania)- Blonde. They have a nice taxi date (although he’s been sleep deprived all episode, poor boy, and falls asleep).

Both

Christine Phelps (The Heroes)- Blonde. She makes them lose all their braincells, it’s painful to witness. This episode hopes you will forget the actress was Gillian last season.

Julie McDermott (The Action)- Blonde. Starsky wins the kerfuffle for her but Hutch definitely makes a good go of it.

Lisa Kendricks (Foxy Lady)- Blonde. They drool and fight over her for half an episode like they did with Christine and it’s embarrassing.

Season 4

Hutch

Paula (Photo Finish)- Darkhaired. He’s like her date at the party, and also the end.

Kate Larrabee (Cover Girl)- Darkhaired. An old friend of his. It starts out just as a comfort thing but they quickly become very friendly.

Marlene (Starsky’s Brother)- Darkhaired. Starsky steals her from Nicky as a Big Brother Power Move but Hutch winds up with her at the bar.

Marianne Owens (Ballad for a Blue Lady)- Darkhaired. I don’t really know what’s going on here but there’s Something (and there’s a lot of parallels with Rosey Malone, so).

Starsky

Sergeant Lizzie Thorpe (Discomania)- Blonde. Technically Hutch talks with her more, but Starsky does most of the flirting.

Jane Doe (Discomania)- Darkhaired. He spends literally five minutes dancing with her. Is it relevant to the case? No. Does he care? Also no.

Emily Harrison (Blindfold)- Darkhaired. He accidentally blinds her during a case so he starts hanging out with her out of guilt but I feel like he also kinda falls in love; they kiss at one point anyway.

Marcie Fletcher (Photo Finish)- Blonde. His photographer girlfriend.

Officer Dee O’Reilly (Strange Justice)- Blonde. His meter maid girlfriend. They have a date at the end!

Jane Doe (Dandruff)- Darkhaired. He’s making out with her at the beginning.

Detective Joan Meredith (Black and Blue)- Darkhaired. It’s Heavily implied they slept together. (Side note love u Meredith!)

Melinda Rogers (The Groupie)- Blonde. He has a date with her at the end. (Yeah she slept with Hutch, but he was undercover and proceeds to lowkey rebuff her in the tag, so I’m not counting it.)

Katie (Starsky’s Brother)- Blonde. His date at the nightclub.

Both

Allison May/Laura Anderson (Targets Without a Badge parts 2 & 3)- Darkhaired. They both try to court her before Starsky realizes she’s his childhood friend (although they do make another go of it in the tag).

Kira (Starsky vs Hutch)- Blonde. Starsky’s girlfriend, although she says she’s also in love with Hutch so then they sleep together which Starsky is NOT thrilled about and it’s a very ugly mess.

Totals:

Hutch:

Pre-show: 3 (1 blonde, 2 dark)   Season 1: 4 (3 blonde, 1 dark)   Season 2: 6 (4 blonde, 2 dark)   Season 3: 8 (5 blonde, 3 dark)   Season 4: 6 (1 blonde, 5 dark) Overall: 26 (13 blonde, 13 dark)

(If the math looks weird, it’s cause Abigail counts for both seasons she’s in but only once overall.)

Starsky:

Pre-show: 2 (1 blonde, 1 dark)   Season 1: 4 (1 blonde, 3 dark)   Season 2: 8 (3 blonde, 5 dark)   Season 3: 10 (6 blonde, 3 dark, 1 ??)   Season 4: 11 (6 blonde, 5 dark) Overall: 35 (17 blonde, 17 dark, 1 ??)

(Thirty-five?? Calm the fuck down, Starsky.)

  In conclusion:

“Exogamists, they are not” might have been true back at the end of season 1 when it was said, but it’s certainly not true by season 4/the end of the series. Hutch now seems to favor dark-haired women, and Starsky’s about half and half, although they both wind up with an equal split overall.

Do with that information what you will; I’m outta here.

[deans-baby-momma]

Truth or Dare-Part 8/20

Summary: The Winchester sibling trio has been through so much in the last decade. From the night of their parents’ 30th wedding anniversary party where Sam and Dean eased Y/N from her innocence to Sam becoming a happily married lawyer with a kickass nurse of wife to the three of them now living in the same town they grew up in under the same roof where each of them came of age.  Y/N is a working mother of three,  her days spent helping the townsfolk make proper and suitable financial decisions while bustling about escorting her two oldest to school and her youngest, Mary Ellen, to daycare; Dean’s garage is the premiere body shop for classic restorations and  car maintenance; people from other state’s bring their vehicles to them to be repaired. Business at Winchester Wheels  is booming; Sam is the legal council for Winchester Wheels and has been since he moved back home almost 5 years ago. He has his work cut out for him dealing with the people Dean pisses off and threatens to sue the garage on at least a monthly basis.

After one lust-filled night, the siblings become more than family.  They become lovers. The three of them, together and separately.

One big loving family.

So when Y/N’s boss calls for her to take a much needed vacation, the six of them hit the road. What will happen? Will it bring them closer together or break them apart?

W/C: 1556

Warnings: talk of body changes, SMUT, fluff, Sammy being “saucy”

I would be lying to say the idea of being Dean's one and only, to know that he was bound to me, isn't enticing and exhilarating.

Although, even now we are already practically a married couple. We basically live together; he hardly ever goes to his apartment and never sleeps there. He is in my bed, snuggled up to me each and every night. We raise our children together, making sure all their needs are met. We have sex. Sure sometimes Sam is involved but there are times when Dean and I get some one-on-one time. And let me tell you, as passionate as it is with both of my brothers, when it is just Dean and I, it's more sensual, more intimate.

So, yea I let jealousy get its claws in me tonight and that monster made me believe that I wasn't enough for Dean. I'm such an idiot.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, looking down at my lap. "I got jealous."

I look up at my lover through my lashes and see the smirk on his face. Cocky bastard!

"Don't be so smug asshole," I tell him but the sides of my lips lift. "It hurt. I thought you were tired of me or that I wasn't enough."  

"You will always be enough for me and I will never, ever tire of you," he tells me as he slides off the bed to the floor and walks on his knees to me. "Lisa was exactly what you called her, a whore. Hell, her pussy has probably been fucked by so many dicks, it'd feel like a hot dog in a hallway."

I couldn't help but laugh at his analogy. Dean Winchester sure had a way with words sometimes.

"You're probably right. What about mine?" I ask, feeling those desires creeping back up my body. "I'm sure I'm not as tight as I used to be. I have pushed three humans out of it."

Dean smiles up at me and lifts his hand,  pushing my hair behind my ear.

"Baby girl,  your pussy feels exquisite. Squeezes my dick just right. They, uh, they shrink back after you give birth. Not right away, but eventually."

"What?" I laugh. "How the hell do you know that?"

Dean blushes and clears his throat. "I might have done some research when you were pregnant with Isabella. I wanted to know what I should expect."

"So I'm still tight?"

"Well not as tight as before you gave birth, but baby you fit my cock like a glove. Sammy too. Hey, we talk!" he defends at my raised eyebrow. "We don't always just talk shop at work. I know about what happened when you tried…."

"Okay. Okay," I cut him off, feeling embarrassed about the time Sam and I 69'ed the first time. I actually tried to deep-throat Sam and actually ended up puking on him instead. The man's dick was lengthy!

"Y/N?" Dean says as he looks into my eyes. "Can I please make love to you now?"

I nod and breathe out, "Yes. Please."

Dean puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me down, capturing my mouth. He immediately requests access that I grant it by parting my lips for his tongue to snake through. 

I can already feel my clit tingling as I squirm on the chair, trying to find some friction. Putting his hands on my hips he stills my fidgeting; his tongue battling against mine. 

He pulls me from the chair and I land on his thighs as he sits back on his heels. 

“Can’t wait to get inside you,” he whispers against my lips. 

“Can’t wait to cum on your dick,” I reply. 

Dean pulls my legs to wrap around his waist and somehow manages to stand up from the floor with my body wrapped around his. I squeak and curl my arms around his neck as I deepen the kiss. 

He lays me gently back on the bed, never breaking the connection as he lays right beside me, his hand running up and down my body, squeezing periodically. 

We slowly work at undressing one another and when we are both bare, he takes no time in taking his spot between my thighs. 

“I love everything about you Y/N,” he tells me, looking into my eyes. “I love your voice, your laugh, the way you walk, the way you talk. I love watching the way you take care of my children, the way you take care of me and Sammy. I couldn’t imagine anyone else I’d want to do any of that with. 

“You have had my heart since I was 16 years old and realized how I felt about my little sister. It might be wrong but it felt so right. Now,” he continues after bending down and pecking a kiss on my lips. “I’m going to enjoy fucking you into this mattress because I really love doing that.”

“Go for it,” I respond and promptly turn my head to the side, burying my face in the pillow and screaming as Dean slams into me. He is fully sheathed and throbbing inside my pussy and it feels so good. So good!

“Move! Move! Dammit Dean, MOVE!”

Dean obeys and begins a hard and fast pace, pumping into me over and over. His grunts are just as loud as my moans and whines.

“Fuck! Baby girl, this pussy will be the death of me. Goddamn, it’s so tight; squeezing my dick so good. Oh, you’re close aren’t you? You gonna cum on my dick? Yea you are. Come on. Cum all over my cock. Let me feel you. Let go.”

A sharp thrust causes the tip of his dick to hit that one good spot inside and I see stars! I cum so hard that I think I forget how to breathe, how to do anything, as my climax rushes through my body and releases around him.

“Fuck, Y/N. You squirted all over me,” Dean says in awe. Once I get my bearings back, I become aware of just how wet it is down there. The squelching sound as he keeps thrusting into me is heard throughout the room, along with the slapping of wet skin. 

Dean’s pace begins to falter and I know he is close to his own orgasm. “Fill me up Dean. Put all that cum in my pussy. I want to feel it leaking out of me for days. Come on, cum inside me, all over me, wherever you want. Mark me as yours!”

Dean growls. He growls like a bear right before he wraps his arms around my back, causing me to arch. His hips are going at a maniacal speed as he grunts and pants in my ear. 

“Oh shit!” he exclaims, as he pushes in as far as he can, his whole dick inside my cavern as he throbs and spurts and spews; his cum splashing against my walls and filling me to the brim. 

We lay on the bed, still joined for what seems like hours. Dean’s dick softens inside of me but he doesn’t move. His body on top of mine keeps me grounded and I lay there and think about what happened tonight. 

Dean and I had our first official date as a couple, he took me to a nice buffet and then at the bar he tried to impress me by breaking the record on a mechanical bull. I got jealous and went off on some bitch who was trying to flirt with him, to us coming back and him professing his undying, unyielding love for me and telling me he wished I could be his wife! 

I get pulled from my reminiscing as Dean pulls out of me with a squelch. I immediately feel his cum running out of me and down my ass to the sheets. Dean looks down and smiles. 

“I love seeing you pour my cum,” he says then hops up and goes to the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth. He cleans me up and then wipes himself off before throwing the rag back into the bathroom.

We climb into bed together and he pulls me close; my head on his chest and his arm wrapped around me. Our hands join on his abdomen and we just lay there, cuddled together. 

“I’ll try not to get jealous again,” I whisper and kiss his skin.

“I like it when you’re jealous,” he says. I raise my head and look at him, confused. “Shows that you do care, you do love me. And it leads to some ah-mazing sex!”

We laugh and I return to laying on his chest. “I have to agree there.”

When we do finally doze off, we are closer than ever before.

There is a knock on the door between the two rooms way too early for my liking, but I can tell by the impatient rapping it is RJ, ready and raring to go. 

Dean and I get dressed before opening the door and rejoining our family. Sam gives us both knowing grins, which I later find out is because he heard us fucking and actually jacked off to the sounds.

Thankfully the kids all slept through it all. That would be a terrible way to start a vacation! 

A/N: Lil fun fact for you. The analogy Dean uses for Lisa is something my brother-in-law said once and it kinda just stuck with me. He was an idiot. R.I.P. 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​ @akshi8278​

[kar-krashew]

@arsenic-creator THIS IS THE CHEESIEST THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN BUT HERE'S YOUR CARS AU MALEC FIC.

(Rated T for language).

----

There are a lot of things that Alec misses about life outside this shitty little town, even though he’s only been here for a few days: his family, his friends, his cell phone— he could go on for a while. Hell, he even misses Aldertree’s incessant bragging at this point, which is a little concerning, because the man is a menace and just generally unpleasant to be around. The fact that Alec has not had a very public fistfight with him yet is a goddamn miracle.

But— he’s getting distracted. The point is, there are a lot of things on that list.

So, it’s genuinely impressive when Simon shows up and rambles for long enough that all Alec really misses now is some peace and quiet, because Simon does not know when to shut up, oh my god—

“What happens if you get pulled over on the road and you don’t have your license on you? Do the cops just let you go? I mean, you are a world famous racer, so it would be assumed that you know how to drive, right?” he pesters, “Or do you still get in trouble?”

Alec groans. He’s been dealing with this for the better part of an hour now, and throwing himself into a nearby cactus plant has never seemed more appealing. Simon, ruiner of lives and seemingly oblivious to Alec’s current temperament, barrels on steadily in his rant about cops and racers until they approach the main part of the plaza, where he suddenly pauses and grins.

Dread claws its way up Alec’s shoulders. Simon grinning like that can only bring bad things.

“So,” the kid drawls, “Where are you staying tonight? Anywhere special? In the spare bedroom of a local attorney, by the name of Magnus Bane, perhaps?”

Scratch that: Alec’s going to throw Simon into a nearby cactus plant, and he won’t even feel a little bit guilty. He could make it look like an accident and everything.

“Fuck off, Simon,” he scowls. He tries increasing his pace to ditch the kid, but Simon is nothing if not persistent. “Don’t you have anything else to be doing right now?”

“Nope.” Simon pops the word in his mouth, grin growing even wider. “You like him. Like, like-like him!” he declares, leaning in closer. “If it helps, I think he likes you, too.”

“Are we fifth graders now? Is that what’s happening?” Alec pointedly ignores the blush threatening to take over his face, and glowers down at the brunette. “Besides, he’s just being nice. It doesn’t have to mean something.” He’d meant to sound firm and sure when he said it, but his voice tapers off and gets soft instead, and now Alec is considering committing multiple misdemeanors if it means he’ll get out of this conversation. Simon shoots him a knowing look.

“But you want it to mean something,” he observes. Alec rolls his eyes, not bothering to grace the statement with a response. Simon takes it as an open invitation to start singing a very loud and terrible rendition of a song about Alec and Magnus sitting in a tree, and it’s enough for Alec to give in and violently shove the other.

Unfortunately, Simon does not hit any of the cacti nearby.

God, Alec hates this town.

---

The thing about Magnus Bane is that, well—

The man is fucking beautiful. Like, holy-shit-Alec-can't-breathe-around-him beautiful, with golden skin and kohl-lined eyes and dark hair and a jawline that Alec would love to get up close and personal with.

The first time they’d met, Alec made a complete ass out of himself by stumbling all over his words in court and then had gotten himself stuck doing community service, largely because of Magnus, for the god-forsaken town he’d managed to land himself in.

(Look, it’s not his fault that he somehow managed to destroy the town’s main road after veering wildly off course and out of control on his way to Brooklyn, okay? These things happen.)

It had kind of been all downhill from there.

But now, somehow, he’s lying in Magnus’s spare bedroom and watching the sunlight as it touches everything in the room with its golden glow, illuminating the walls, the potted plants, the shelves, the man leaning against the doorway—

“Holy shit!”

Alec scrambles to sit up in bed, frantically pulling up the sheets to his bare chest, as Magnus laughs. “Magnus!” Alec squeaks. “I, um, what’re you doing here?”

Magnus grins, rounding the corner of the bed to place a tray in front of Alec. “I thought I’d bring you breakfast,” he says, “before I asked you if you wanted to go for a drive.”

Alec frowns. “A drive?”

“A drive,” Magnus repeats, shrugging a shoulder. “I wanted to show you something, and took the liberty of filling your car up with gas again.”

“Wha— Why? You don’t think I’ll try leaving town again?” The only reason Alec hadn’t been able to leave when he first tried had been the lack of fuel in his tank, so he’s genuinely confused as to why Magnus decided to change that.

“I don’t know, will you?” the other asks. He tilts his head, looking gentle and blurred in his robe and smiling softly, something warm cradled in his eyes, and Alec knows with sudden certainty that he won’t. He might’ve said yes a few days ago, but now?

“No,” he replies. “I won’t.”

“That’s that, then,” Magnus beams, and Alec can’t help beaming back a little stupidly. “I trust you. Now, finish up, Alexander. We’ve got daylight to catch.”

---

“Where do you want me to go?”

They’re both sitting in Alec’s car, windows rolled down, on an old road leading away from the interstate. It’s beautiful out here— green trees circling a little lake tucked in between the rocks and dirt— but Alec has a feeling it’s not what Magnus wanted to show him.

“Just follow the path,” Magnus instructs, unbuckling his seatbelt. He turns to Alec and winks, before hoisting himself so that he’s sitting halfway out of the window, laughing at Alec’s surprised yelp and swerve of the car. “Careful there, hotshot!” he giggles, then leans further out like he’s got a fucking death wish, closing his eyes against the wind.

“Are you insane?” Alec yells out, and Magnus laughs harder.

“All the best people are, darling!” he responds. “I’ll be just peachy. Just keep going, we’re about to get to my favorite part!”

Alec’s about to yell out again, probably something like you have a favorite part of almost dying? or I think I’m halfway in love with you as they pass through a rocky tunnel, but before he can say either, his breath catches at the sight in front of him.

A huge, sparkling waterfall cascades down from the mountains, overlooking the rocky canyon and trees below it, framing the bridge that hangs in between. It almost doesn’t look real, more like something out of a corny road trip movie or a documentary, and Alec slows down as they approach it, taking it in. Magnus grins as they pass by, leaning out to catch errant drops of water on his fingertips, and God, it’s such a cliché and cheesy thing to do, and Alec wants to kiss him straight on his stupid mouth.

“I bet you don’t see that out in the city,” Magnus says smugly, tucking himself back into the car. He glances back at Alec with a smirk on his lips, running a hand through his wind-mussed hair. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“Yeah,” Alec breathes, staring at Magnus’s flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “It really is.”

(Fuck, now he’s the one being cliché. Izzy’s going to find out about this somehow and laugh at him forever.)

“Right.” Magnus clears his throat, looking away, jarring Alec back to reality. “We’re almost there, just pull up at the sign there,” he continues, pointing to a clearing ahead.

Alec coughs, nodding. “Right. Yes. The sign.”

The sign in question is a small landmark that points to a dilapidated, out-of-place building hidden between the rock of the mountain. “The Hotel Dumont,” the front reads, paint chipped away at the edges of the letters. The building looks Victorian in design, with intricate arches decorating the front, though many of them are cracked and gray now, and there’s a large open courtyard area in the front that appears abandoned now. It must’ve been beautiful, once. Now, it carries only echoes of a world passed.

“What is this place?” Alec asks. Magnus shakes his head and exits the car, then stands and stares at the sign for a while when Alec joins him.

“This used to be their livelihood,” he finally says, “The Hotel Dumont. Raphael used to run it, and everyone else would pitch in. You wouldn’t believe what it looked like earlier: parties in the main hall, music playing in the foyer, people laughing. It kept them going.”

“What happened?”

Magnus smiles wistfully. “A famous racer by the name of Valentine dropped a particularly scathing review of the hotel after Raphael caught him harassing customers and kicked him out. Had enough influence and lawyers to destroy all of this place’s credibility. These days, everyone’s barely getting by. It’s why they took so long to warm up to you; you essentially represent everything that ruined them.”

That’s horrible, Alec wants to say, but instead he looks over at Magnus and notes his glittering makeup and golden rings and silk tunic and blurts out, “Then how did you end up here?” and immediately winces.

It’s a valid question, technically— Magnus obviously wasn’t one of the town’s original residents, if his extravagant nature and the way he discusses the hotel are any indication— but still. Alec could’ve been gentler about it.

“I was an attorney in L.A, actually,” Magnus sighs. “It was good, I suppose, and money was never an issue, but I don’t think I was happy.” He shuffles closer to Alec as they idle in front of the building, brushing their shoulders together. “Got myself horribly drunk one night and made a whole plan to run away and leave the city behind. I woke up the next day, saw the plans, decided I might as well, and just started driving until my car finally broke down here.”

They’re silent for a moment, and Alec reaches out to touch his fingertips to Magnus’s comfortingly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I can’t imagine what that must’ve felt like.”

Magnus turns to face him completely then, looking up at him knowingly. “Can’t you?” he asks. He takes Alec’s palms in his own and holds their hands between them. “Are you happy out there, Alexander?”

Alec blinks, startled. “Of course I am,” he protests automatically, because why wouldn’t he be? He’s rich, he’s famous, he’s doing what he loves; it’s all perfect. And yet—

He thinks about the constant pressure from his family and fans to be perfect and flashy and smiling all the time. He thinks back to his mother’s desperate attempts to hide his sexuality from the media, setting him up for meeting after meeting with beautiful women. He thinks about the façade he’s made for himself against the person he is right now, standing here with Magnus, and realizes that they’ve never been the same.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits. “I— I’m not sure.”

Magnus hums. He looks back at the hotel, Alec’s hands still clutched in his own. “You don’t have to leave, you know. You could stay here,” he says.

Alec surveys the landscape, then the man in front of him. “Yeah,” he agrees, “I think I could.”

---

He never gets to find out, because the next day it all goes to hell: Maryse Lightwood descends on the town, armed with a fleet of reporters and a truck waiting to take Alec away.

“We’re going now, Alec,” she demands. “Say goodbye to your ‘friends’ if you need to, and then we’re leaving.” She glances warily over at Magnus, who’s holding Alec’s hand, and frowns before she turns on her heel and walks away.

“So,” Magnus says flatly, “It appears you’re finally getting to that race.”

Alec wants to scream. He hates this, hates that this is how it’s going to end, before it’s even truly begun. If he just had more time—

“Magnus, I wanted to—” he starts, “I wish we—” He exhales, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly, and Magnus smiles.

“It’s alright, Alexander. Just stay in touch, okay?” He pats Alec’s shoulder. “Go on, darling. I don’t think your mother would appreciate me keeping you any longer than I already have.”

Alec hesitates a moment more, wanting to do something, anything, to make this different, but then he swallows and steps away.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll, I’ll call you.”

(It won’t change anything: his life will be exactly the same as it was before. Just one phone call added onto the routine. They both know this is goodbye to whatever they could be.)

Still, Magnus squeezes his fingers and keeps smiling. “I’ll be waiting, Alexander,” he says.

“Sure,” Alec replies uselessly.

So he’s here now, weeks later, sitting on the stands and supposedly getting ready for a race that he doesn’t have heart in anymore.

Honestly, fuck this race. They all go the same way: he’ll race, he’ll win or lose, he’ll pose with some model for a newspaper, and that’ll be it. It used to be enough for him, once.

“Alec?” a voice interrupts, “You okay?”

It’s Izzy, crackling through the comms piece in his ear. Alec clears his throat. “Yeah,” he replies, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as brittle over the mic as it feels, “I’m fine.”

He’ll swallow his emotions and make it enough, again.

“Alright,” Izzy concedes, but she sounds disbelieving, “If you say so. It’s almost time, you might want to head to the car soon, okay?”

Alec hums in the affirmative, heading down to the track, paparazzi trying their best to bombard him. He takes a deep breath, avoiding the cameras, and opens the driver's side door of the car.

He’ll call Magnus after this. It’ll be enough.

Alec ducks under the roof of the vehicle. “Hey, Izzy?” he calls, seating himself behind the wheel. “If I win, remind me to call Magnus, okay?”

“I’m afraid that would be a little redundant, darling,” a new voice replies, and Alec’s heart skips a beat. “Given that you’ll be talking to me already.”

Magnus.

“Magnus?” Alec fucking leaps out of his car, searching frantically around the pit for the man in his ear. A warm laugh floods the comms, and Alec feverishly pushes past cameramen and well-meaning assistants (who are trying to remind him that he really should be in his car right now) in his desperation, only to turn around and:

It’s him. It’s really him, smiling warmly at Alec with his gorgeous brown eyes, wearing black eyeliner to match the Lightwood tracksuit he’s wearing, and Alec missed him so much, oh god, he’s really here—

“Magnus,” he breathes, then he’s throwing his helmet down and closing the distance between them and pulling at Magnus’s lapels, up, up, up, and straight to his own mouth.

He’s kissing him.

Magnus is gripping onto his face too tightly and Alec is clacking their teeth together too harshly, but it’s Magnus, and it’s perfect, and Alec is kissing him, and he could lose every race from this moment on and still feel like he’s on top of the world if it means he’ll get to have this.

“You came,” he whispers when they finally pull apart. Magnus cups his face, stealing another kiss, before he responds.

“Of course I did. Honestly, I’m offended you didn’t ask for me to show up here, yourself,” he teases, and Alec grins bashfully.

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” he replies. Magnus rolls his eyes before pressing their foreheads together.

“Well, darling, we better change that soon, hm?” He twirls his fingers at the nape of Alec’s neck, and time feels like it's perfect and frozen forever in this moment, until Magnus clears his throat.

“I hate to interrupt this, Alexander, but there’s a race and a very excited group of reporters waiting for you, and you should probably get back to both. Unless, of course, you’re not planning to participate?”

Alec snorts and pulls away, loosening his grip around Magnus’s waist. “I plan on participating, Magnus,” he says. “I have a very special someone I’d like to dedicate the trophy to, if they’re open to the idea.”

Magnus grins. “Mmm, you’d have to win, first, wouldn’t you?” he winks, and Alec smirks back.

“For you?” he replies. “I’d do nothing less.”

Alec knows that he’s going to have an absolute media shitstorm waiting for him after he ends this race. But, looking back at a beaming Magnus as he picks his helmet up, he thinks it just might be worth it.

God, Alec loves that town. He's not sure why he ever thought otherwise.

[companionship]

okay one big post to get the finale out of my system! it's been lovely reading all of your analyses and reactions, and looking at all your amazing gifs and edits :')

fair warning: this is going to be so stinking long omfg

the things i enjoyed:

vincenzo remaining an anti-hero through and through, especially the fact that he didn't hold back at all when it came to myunghee and hanseok's death. he gave them a taste of their own medicine and then some forreal, their deaths were brutal but oddly satisfying, and i'm saying this as someone who usually hates violence/gore. throughout the show, they've always hinted at what he was Truly Capable Of and boy did we get to see it

vincenzo fumbling in hanseok's house and not being his usual self – a lot of people thought it was ooc, which i understand! i felt like that was the Point, to show that for once, he's not the invincible mafia consigliere that everyone thinks he is. what he did to the man who killed his mother and the army of security guards was a reaction, but this is the first time he's flustered, caught at a disadvantage, and faced with the very real possibility that he might lose somebody incredibly important to him. idk it made him more human to me

vincenzo literally not hesitating for even 0.1 seconds to fold his entire body around hers when he thought hanseok was going to shoot again – yeah that whole bit made my heart clench i feel like a crazy person i won't get over it

the chayenzo hospital scene... my god it was so tender my heart broke. the laugh they both shared, out of sheer relief that she's okay. the little joke about paying for the private room. the way not much was being said, but everything was being said at once. the way they looked at each other, as if it wouldnt ever be enough :( the quiet acceptance that this is their last night together, and that he's going to have to kill a bunch of people after this, but for now they have this. for however brief.

chayoung being chayoung – her big ass personality at the courtroom at the end after winning ms oh's case. her hopping around in those heels, looking elegant and sleek, mocking the hell out of rich conglomorates. she's in her element again and it made me so, so happy to see. i absolutely adore her, she's everything really. after all that loss and the whole ordeal, i'm glad she's able to return to what she does best: putting capitalists back in their place

mr lee being Very Much Not Dead – idk how i wouldve been able to handle it after witnessing hanseo's death like im glad he got the chance to be a dad

the kiss – my god....

the things i didn't like:

hanseo's death – lmao is it even a surprise... say what you will about his death being foreshadowed, but i really just hated hated it. i hate that hanseok won this one. i hate that hanseo worked so hard to redeem himself, only to lose it all. i hate that he was given a taste of what a real family was like, and then having it taken away so cruelly. even though i said above that i didn't mind that vincenzo was ooc at the mansion, i was still screaming at the screen because there were plenty of opportunities for the situation to be reversed. i don't necessarily blame vincenzo for hanseo's death, but i do wish that they had a funeral scene for him. i wish they acknowledged his sacrifice, and how pivotal he was in turning the tables. if not for hanseo, vincenzo really couldn't have pulled any of this off, from the interpol tipoff to the tracking device in the watch. idc idc hanseo is in malta rn, enjoying the sun and the beach, going to therapy, and teaching the local kids how to play hockey even though there's no ice :(

chayoung being bedridden the whole finale – like... NAH lmao this aint it chief... if things went my way, she wouldve gotten out of the hospital depite her injury and dealt with myunghee before handing her off to vincenzo. i loved their animosity for each other, and i wanted chayoung to be the one at myunghee's apartment waiting for her, rubbing it into her face. i wanted chayoung to verbally finish myunghee with that sharp ass tongue of hers and really dump a load of salt on her wounds. then vincenzo could do whatever the hell he wanted. you could argue that the show is called Vincenzo but i really dont care lmao it started with chayoung avenging her dad and she should've been able to strike the final blow. also what was her big second party? are we really just going to ignore her capacity for evil? after all that moral work done, after that time she spent coming to terms with using evil to combat evil, we're just going to... keep her bedridden? park jaebum u will pay for this

vincenzo losing his family – besides hanseo's death, i think this was what i hated the most from the ending. the start of the show showed us vincenzo's departure from the mafia with the very clear intention of Not Returning. the capo died, his loyalties lie with no one, paolo can suck it. throughout the show, we see him repeat over and over that he wants to get the gold and skip off to malta to enjoy a peaceful life there, while reflecting/repenting for the things he's done. vincenzo was gearing up for a lifetime of solitude. the whole point of the show was for him to find a real family and have a real chance at happiness. park jaebum really said FUCK THAT! we're gonna have him ditch the family that he built from scratch with the love of his life and then make him return to the family that tried to kill him AND make him the capo... pjb said we're gonna separate vincenzo from the family that accepts his past and sees it as a strength and not a weakness. the family that was formed out of solidarity, the family that he fought for and fought alongside with blood, sweat and tears. not to mention the goddaughter of his? sorry i would laugh if it didn't actually rile me up so bad

vincenzo not being able to come back to korea – i've said this in another post of mine, but given that he is The Vincenzo Cassano with all those resources at his disposal (guillotine file, mr ahn/mr cho/the chief etc.), the fact that he isnt even able to stay in korea for 30 fuckin minutes after finishing hanseok was ridiculous. the whole police chase was dumb as hell considering that the show has managed to stop politicians and mf presidential candidates from going after him like ? huh LMAO park jaebum had an on-demand pigeon army in this show and Yet he can't stop like 10 suddenly-righteous policemen. another big ass HUH

chayenzo (here we go...):

NOPE! i've reflected on the ending and decided that i'm going to be petty and salty for a while more before coming to terms with it

i can rationalise and try to be positive and tell myself that their love is enduring can transcend space and time and that in due time, they will find their way back to each other, and i have no doubt that they will because they're one soul in two bodies. it's quite literally canon that they're soulmates.

but let me wallow for a second

here we have two people who have done questionable and terrible things in their past coming together, growing together, grieving together, fighting together... you get the gist of it. you have two people who have found a home in each other. two people who, for all intents and purposes, were about to live in a whole lot of bitterness and solitude if not for each other and the life they built together (chayoung didn't have friends like that, and her family is gone too). to separate them like that at the very end is cruel. i know chayoung and vincenzo are mature and incredible and will be able to function without the other next to them. i know that they will still excel as lawyers and will defeat evil with their underhand methods the way they do so well but my god are they going to feel the absence and miss each other

my point is that they shouldn't have to. from what i could tell, they can't even communicate on a regular basis bc he'll be tracked and whatnot, hence the postcards. a postcard every month is a poor substitute for all those nights they stayed up drinking makgeolli and celebrating their wins. its a shitty replacement for coffee dates and fist bumps and all the moments in between. after everything they've been through, after literally fighting to death for their family, they don't deserve this. they don't deserve to meet up once a year for a couple of hours. they don't deserve pockets of time in malta or korea, their life in a perpetual countdown to when they're going to see each other next

they both deserve love and some semblance of peace (finally finally). they both deserve to have someone to come home to after a hard day of work, because doing what they do cannot be easy. they both deserve a family, deserve to have someone next to them that accepts their past and would embrace their future. they both deserve a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on. i know they will still be It for each other despite the distance, i just wish the distance didn't even exist in the first place bc its stupid and cruel and their love shouldnt have to be proven or tested with time and space. let them stay together. let them grow together. let them be.

side note: song joongki and jeon yeobeen need another project together idc take it up with god

tl;dr: park jaebum u will be paying for my therapy bills

[nanagoswife]

Bending The Law - Part 1

Summary: You’re a lawyer in Gotham. You are supposed to uphold the law, but you defend the unlawful to help out the underworld. It felt like your duty as your father was apart of it. After a huge case, it leads you to a new place.

A/N: This is the first time I’m keeping a story to a specific character. If there’s any tips or pointers you have, I’d be more than glad to hear them. Enjoy!

“We find the defendant,” your heart was pounding. So much of your time was taken while trying to keep your client out of jail. The juror continued, “not guilty of first degree murder.” 

The breath that you were holding in escaped you. All the tension and stress from these months was released at the words. Overwhelming joy filled you while looking at the happiness in your client’s eyes.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. You’ve done so much for me.”

“It was my pleasure,” you leaned in closer. “Try to be more careful next time.” A smile spread across his face and he gave a small nod before joining the small crowd that supported him through the trial. There were a few new faces in the group, you noticed.

You turned away and packed everything up. The notepads, documents, they all went into the case you carried with you since your first trial. This case, though, had been the toughest one yet. Yes, you represent many people from the underworld of Gotham, but it didn’t really bother you. You grew up with it. 

Your father was the head of some criminal group that you never knew the name of. All you had known was, when you were still a teenager, he had allied with another criminal empire so that he could spend more time with you and your family.

“Excuse me,” a voice sounded from behind you. Turning to the voice, you saw a man with short white hair and a few scars on his face. He seemed familiar for some reason. “On behalf of our boss, we thank you. We really needed him.”

A small grin appeared on your face, “I owed him this.”

Confusion slightly showed on his face at your words. You told him about how he once covered for you in the past. He was a childhood friend and gave you a few alibis to keep you out of trouble from your father. 

“Ah. Well, thank you again.” The man nodded and joined the rest of the group who waited at the door for him. 

Before they walked out, your client gave you a wave. Smiling, you waved back before turning to your case and packing the last few pens and whiteout. There was someone you were meeting and you’d be damned if you were late. 

Running up the doorsteps, you rung the doorbell. Looking at your watch, you were relieved to see you were a few minutes early.

The door swung open to reveal your sister. “For once, you’re not late, kiddo.”

“You know my job eats up my time, sis.” A laugh chimed from her as she tugged you into her house. You almost completely fell to the floor from the force.

Your sister, Kristy, strode towards her kitchen with a skip in her step. There was no doubt that she was grabbing a drink for the two of you. One thing you had noticed was that your sister was dressed up.

“Did you have a plan for the night that I didn’t know about?” The question was one you needed an answer to. Usually you’d leave it be and just go with the flow, but you were expecting that you were just going to a regular restaurant. 

Kristy turned around and held eye contact with you before speaking, “We are going somewhere to not only get food, but also party, kiddo.”

“I thought all the bars around here had crappy food. We already tested this out long ago,” you said. Not only were you confused, but you dreaded having to eat the terrible food they all had. 

“Hell no. There is one place that I’m sure you’ve heard of.”

“What did we miss?”

“The Black Mask Club,” she said with excitement. “A friend of mine told me about it.”

“And by friend, do you mean Zach?” She gave a sly smirk as she started towards you. Reaching you, she took your hands in hers.

For a moment she stayed like that. You saw she was trying to choose the right words, “Yes. He’s also meeting us there.” 

Kristy seemed to shrink as if she was waiting for a negative response. Honestly, you didn’t care. It meant that you could get out of having to actually talk all night. Your sister seemed to only ever talk. So, you were more than happy to know you wouldn’t be the only one on the receiving end.

The only answer you gave was a shrug. Slowly, a smile grew on Kristy’s face.

“Is that what you’re going to wear?” she gestured to the blue dress you wore.

“Why? Is something wrong with it?”

The smile reappeared on her face, “No. It’s amazingly stunning!”

“Hey, boss!” Roman turned around to the voice. He was greeted by Zsasz who was still closing the distance between them.

Seeing that he was lighter in his steps made him optimistic, “I hope there’s good news.” He was glad that the club hadn’t opened just yet. It assured that they would be able to have this conversation without any prying eyes.

“The greatest actually. Michael was found not guilty!” A large smile spread across Zsaz’s face, “That lawyer fucking pulled it off!” 

A great sense of joy filled Roman. Michael was valuable and he couldn’t afford to lose him. He wanted to know who the lawyer was. When he offered, Michael had turned down using one of Roman’s. He said that he already had one.

“That’s spectacular news! Just for that, we’ll let him celebrate. Anyone who he brings that was supposed to be stationed tonight, get it filled.” With that, Victor nodded and started arranging anything and everything Roman told him.

Watching Victor disappear, he decided he’d wait to ask about the lawyer. He wanted to thank them in person. Hearing about it all from the news and Victor, he knew how much work was put in to get this result. It only costed months of non-stop work to find any little thing that would show innocence.

Sitting down to think, a martini was brought over. Not only did the lawyer amaze him, but he admired the dedication. Instead of paying off witnesses or judges or finding a way to tamper with something, this lawyer went deep.

They didn’t play dirty, they did it the hard way and searched for any loophole that would apply. Yes, he wanted to meet them. For now, he’d celebrate.

“Are you sure they’re actually going to have good food?” Honestly, that was the only thing you really cared about. The trial you had only let you have cheap takeout and delivery. After it all, you really just wanted a decent meal.

Kristy was about to reply, but got distracted when she saw Zach walking towards them. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes once they met each other.

Zach waved hello before taking your sister into his arms. Uncomfortable, you looked away to where you saw the line for the club. How had you never heard of this place?

“Come on,” you heard Zach suddenly say. Being the third wheel, you walked behind them. A small chuckle came from you as you thought about the relationship those two had. They weren’t exclusive, but more like friends that got some fun when they wanted. It didn’t really make sense to you.

Walking to the front of the line, the guard at the front let you all in and gave a nod to Zach. Loud music filled your ears as you walked into the club. The sight of everyone dancing, drinking and talking all around made you smile.

Your arm was suddenly pulled, “Follow us, kiddo. Zach got a table reserved for us!” Resisting the urge to roll your eyes again, you obeyed. 

Almost instantly, a waitress came over to take your drink order. Thankfully, there was a great assortment of real food. Joy filled you.

After some time, Zach and Kristy left you to go and dance after enjoying their own meal. Not feeling up to it, you just stayed and sat at your table. It gave you time to admire the red setting.

Red, that was a great choice for what you usually saw going on at clubs. Passion, heat, joy, activity and love. What type of love? It didn’t matter. All you knew was that it represented what clubs really were in many ways. Even in the darker aspects.

“Y/N!” you suddenly heard a voice yell your name. Looking over, you saw your client, Michael. A smile spread across your face as you watched him make his way over to you from his group.

Giving a small laugh, you stood up and hugged him. “Let me guess, celebrating today’s victory?” you said while pulling away from your long time friend. His own smile spread across his face.

“You know it. Now let me guess. You’re here with your sister who ditched you for or with a guy.”

“Well, you know Kristy. Always having fun,” you replied sarcastically.

Laughing, he placed a hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t you come with me. I’m sure my friends won’t mind. You are basically my sister after all.” Lightly he pushed your shoulder with a playful tint in his eyes.

Shrugging, you accept. Michael’s smile grew bigger as he gestured for you to follow him to the table he was at. 

Roman arrived to a very lively Friday night crowd. Usually he would’ve been pleased, but annoyance was the only thing tugging on him. Not because of visitors, but because of the situation he just had to deal with. How he wished he could just kill the clown.

Going to the bar, his drink was immediately placed on the counter. His eyes searched around to spot any issues at all. 

A smile played on his lips when he saw Michael and his group. One person caught his eye. There was a girl laughing along to the conversation they were all having. She looked very comfortable with the group.

For a moment, he studied you. You were amazingly beautiful. His mind started to wander as he continued to study your features.

Roman wanted to know more about who this girl was. He was glad that he had a reason to go over there anyways. Ever since Zsasz told him the news, he had been caught up with phone calls. Michael deserved a personal congratulations for his victory.

“So, Y/N, how the hell did you pull that victory off?” one of the men asked after settling his laughter. 

“A shit ton of Chinese food,” you replied, still laughing. The entire group burst out in their own laughter.

It died down as soon as someone said, “Here comes the boss.” Following Michael’s gaze, you saw a man in a white suit with some sort of floral button-up shirt walking towards you. One of his gloved hands raised his martini glass as a greeting.

“My, my. Look who it is,” Michael stood up as the man started talking once he was close enough. They shared a firm handshake.

“Roman Sionis, I would like you to meet Y/N Y/L/N.” You stood up and exchanged your own handshake, nervousness slightly filling you. He was someone you only knew through reputation. “She’s not only like my little sister, but she’s the one who worked tirelessly these few months to keep my ass out of jail,” he exclaimed.

A surprised but pleased expression wiped Roman’s face. Your cheeks went red at the compliment, “I was just doing my job. I also owed you for all you did for me as kids.” Playfully, you pushed at Michael’s shoulder.

“Well, I greatly appreciate your dedication, Y/N. Would you like a drink?” Roman asked. There was something in his tone that made you feel like you couldn’t refuse. 

Smiling up at Michael, you gave him another nudge before looking back at Roman. “Sure. See you in a bit Mikey,” you said as you walked towards Roman. He gestured to a path that led to the bar.

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo

[effieduan]

Peskipiksi Pesternomi || Morgan & Effie (& Friends!)

TIMING: Present

LOCATION: Vulpine Voltage Repairs

PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems & @effieduan & pixies

SUMMARY: Morgan needs to get her phone fixed and stumbles upon an unsettling scene in Effie’s shop.

CONTENT: karen :///

“I’m just saying there’s grease on my screen.” The blonde said slowly, as if Effie couldn’t understand her. Truthfully, Effie didn’t understand her, but only because this woman was an idiot.

Effie let out a sigh, finally putting down the teeny tools she was using to replace some teenagers' cracked phone screen. She thought she was done with this particular customer -- she had even let herself hope she was done with this particularly customer. This woman’s laptop had a bad run in with a llama (apparently) and wanted it back in perfect condition. Effie obliged after she was screamed at for telling her that it would be cheaper to buy a new computer. Do I look poor? Perfect condition meant a deep cleaning of all the grime that was caked onto the poor machine.

“Ma’am,”Effie said flatly. “Your screen is just clean.”

“No! It feels slippery! Look!”

Effie watched, face blank as Karen dragged her finger across the smooth surface of the laptop screen, leaving behind a fingerprinted smudge.

“Yes,” Effie said. “Because it’s clean.” The door opened, her telltale jingling bells sounding through the small store front. Effie looked over Karen’s shoulder. “I’ll be right with you.”

“You most certainly will not!” The woman was outraged now, and Effie sucked in a deep breath, wishing that the other customer hadn’t walked in so she could just go lock herself in her workshop in the back. “You will take my laptop back and clean all this grease off it this instant! I didn’t pay all that money for you to be lazy - I wanted this in mint condition so i wouldn’t have to buy a new computer, and you’ve made it all...All… shiny! It’s slippery and I’ll drop it again and just have to come back - is this how you scam people? How dare you!”

Effie stared at the woman for a long moment, before stooping behind the counter and picking up a sign she only used on particularly irritating customers.

THE TECHNICIAN HAS THE RIGHT TO REFUSE SERVICE TO ANYONE. THIS MEANS YOU! GOOD-BYE!!!

After all the terrible things over the last two weeks, especially the thing with Erin and Betty, Morgan tried to kill her newly freed up time with Sundew and the pixies. Sometimes this led to impromptu spelling quizzes about the names of flowers. Sometimes this led to Sundew and Willowbud dropping her phone in the pool after trying to use it as a palanquin. Today was Actions Speak Louder Than Words, so the two tiny culprits joined her on the trip to the repair shop for ‘emotional support’ and to determine what they could do to make things better once Morgan found out just how bad the situation was. The rice trick hadn’t helped, so her hopes weren’t all that high.

Inside the shop, however, someone was having a much worse day.

“Her face looks like a balloon,” Willowbud giggled, hiding on Morgan’s shoulder.

“We should make it pop!” Sundew said, peeking out next to her. “And then make her get stuck on the ceiling so she can’t come down. Then she really really will be a balloon.”

“That’s cruel,” Morgan chastised softly, looking at the complaining woman. “Also, very conspicuous. And it’s...” She winced. “...human, in a bad way, to hurt someone just because you feel like it.”

“Does not,” Sundew hissed.

But the woman was being pretty human-bad too, and Morgan found herself wishing she’d put off teaching Sundew manners for another week. She had worked too many shitty jobs to have compassion for people who took off the edge off their existential powerlessness by yelling at service workers. Maybe this woman would look better stuck to the ceiling.

When the girl at the counter came to her, Morgan made a point of smiling extra bright as she brought out the phone. “I just have a uh...phone problem. Swimming pool accident. You can let me know if it’s not worth bringing her back to life.” She side eyed the woman, who was rapidly taking personal offense to everything Morgan said by the look on her face. “I can also wait a while, if you need to take care of other stuff.”

The sunny smile of the other customer was oddly disconcerting, though Effie knew it was just because the other was being such a bitch. “Your phone?” Effie managed to ask. She even managed to register her saying swimming pool accident - which happened to be her least favorite repairs, but at that moment she’d take anything. At least this woman looked like she would even get a thank you. “I’ll take a --”

Effie didn’t get to finish her sentence when her bitch of a customer interjected. “You most certainly will wait!” she snarled at Morgan. If Effie believed in God, she would pray for the strength not to strangle this woman. Thankfully, she did believe in the law, and murder was currently illegal, despite picturing this woman’s head exploding. “And you don’t want to get your shitty phone repaired here anyway, she’ll just make it greasy -- honestly, I want my money back, and I want my computer back to the way it was!”

“Smashed and hardly usable because of a llama accident?” Effie asked. “I’ve already informed you that I’ll no longer be servicing you. You can leave now. Uh --” Effie glanced over at Morgan. “Ma’am, if you’d like you can go towards the counter. This will only take a --”

“I demand you --”

“And I demand you shut up!” Effie had never been great at customer service and was born with the shortest fuse of all her sisters. “I’m running a business here and if you’re going to act like a child without a brain you can stick your head and your laptop into a pot of boiling water. Leave so I can look at this woman’s phone.”

Sundew and Willowbud thought this was hilarious. Morgan had to pretend to scratch her shoulder in order to keep them quiet. “If we’re the h-word for only supposing to make her a balloon, how many is she? Do you think she ate them?” Sundew said.

“At least four,” Morgan muttered.

This made them laugh harder. Morgan coughed to cover up the noise. “Excuse me, sorry,” she said, clearing her throat for good measure. “See, that’s what you do when you interrupt someone trying to peacefully go about their day. And then, if you’re trying to get someone to do you a favor and be nice to you, you get a little more specific and acknowledge they’re actually a person and not a text bot in a bodysuit.” Her voice was gentle, but her smile cut sharp. “Like: you look really distressed, ma’am. I can only imagine what horrible things must be happening for you right now, or how badly you’ve been hurt, that you feel like you need to be like this. But you really don’t. And this young woman has made herself really clear just now. So maybe if this is that urgent, you should try calling tomorrow.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna wo-oork,” Willowbud sing-songed.

Effie coughed, at least having the sense to hide her building laughter at her customers words. Oh, Morgan was so her new favorite customer, she would be getting a discount on her phone if she could fix the water damage. And if she couldn’t, maybe she’d toss in a free pair of headphones along with the cellphone recommendation pamphlet she’d give her. What confused her, though, was the soft sing-songing voice coming from the woman’s… hair?

Facetime, maybe? Or - wait, her phone was why she was here. Unless she had two? Effie was far more interested in the voice than she was her bitchy customer.

“I don’t think you have any involvement in this!” Karen snapped at Morgan, and Effie raised her eyes to the ceiling. Was this punishment for being an atheist? She made a mental note to tell that one to Eva the next time they spoke, she’d laugh.

“Actually --” Effie said, cutting off her tirade, “You are. She’s here to get a service done and you -- a person that will no longer be served -- are getting in the way of that. I guarantee she could have been out of here faster than this whole ordeal.” Effie paused, looking back at Morgan apologetically. “Not that I’m trying to get rid of you, of course.”

Karen stamped her foot. “I just want what I’ve paid for!! This is highway robbery! I’ll sue you!”

Sundew and Willowbud were doing that thing where they whispered and giggled and cackled at each other at the same time, and their already shrill voices were literally in Morgan’s ear and it was all she could do not to swat them away or laugh from how their wings tickled her neck. As they started scuttling down her sweater, she finally barked with laughter. “Sorry, sorry, uh. You’re very scary, ma’am. Truly.” Sundew’s feet were tickling her side and Morgan covered her mouth, snorting. “And uh, you really don’t have to worry about me,” she said to the girl at the counter. “I worked retail in Texas.”

As she spoke, the two pixies were writing on one of her post its and shoved their creation into Morgan’s hand. Morgan took one look at what they’d written (for writing in the dark, the penmanship was kind of impressive) and nearly choked on her voice. Maybe being on her own was making her lose her grip on her principles. Maybe she should stop spending so much time with pixies. Maybe a lot of things. But fuck it.

“Uh, but you know what, since all three of us seem to not want you here, why don’t you give me your name and contact info right here. I have some lawyer friends, and I’ll put you in touch. Sound fair?” She flipped the post-it as she handed it to the woman, obscuring the writing on the front.

Retail in Texas? Effie raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t think I want to know what that means,” she said. Truthfully she couldn’t think of a place she wanted to go to less than Texas. Except maybe Arizona… Or, really, anywhere in the south. Effie watched as Morgan produced a sticky note from out of nowhere. Who carried sticky notes on them like that? Effie wondered if Morgan really intended on passing Karen’s information onto a lawyer -- though even if she did, she was certain that this blonde woman would be laughed right out of a lawyers office. Greasy computer her left butt cheek.

“Ma’am, I suggest you do as she says,” Effie said. “Before I decide to call someone to escort you off my property.”

The blonde woman looked at her in astonishment, “Excuse me?” she asked like she couldn’t believe the words that just left Effie’s mouth.

Effie just reached into her back pocket, pulling out her phone and waving it threateningly. Of course, Effie would do no such thing. She was particularly fond of the police, nor did she feel like having more people crowded in her store. Even two was starting to make her a little nervous, if only because one of them was overtly hostile.

The blonde huffed in annoyance. “Well fine, then.” And she snatched the sticky note out of Morgan’s hand, looking Effie up and down as she did so, eyes lingering on the pair of bright blue gloves. “And I hope you choose a better wardrobe when I see you in court!!”

As soon as the woman signed the note, Sundew and Willowbud flew out of Morgan’s bag, tiny hands drawn into finger-guns. “Stick 'em up!” Sundew cried. “This here is a robbery! And you owe us big time!”

“Yeah!” Willowbud piped. “Highway robbery, missy!”

Sundew cackled. “Pew, pew!” Two bullets the size of melons shot out from her tiny fingers and zoomed straight for the woman’s face. She screamed, shielding herself, but on supposed impact, the bullets made a farting noise and erupted into a spray of rainbow fireworks.

“Sundew!” Morgan squeaked. In retrospect, she should have seen this coming. They had written When u rob me I will give all my money $$. Of course they would want to do the hold up themselves, supernatural secrecy be damned. She looked over to the girl at the counter, smiling through her panic. Please don’t freak out, please don’t freak out, please don’t freak out.

The woman, meanwhile, was wriggling in place as her arms forced themselves into her own purse for her wallet. Out came the credit cards, debit cards, store cards, wadded up bills, loose change, even a checkbook. Morgan didn’t even know people still carried checkbooks. The more the woman fought, the more her face turned a little purple, and for a second Morgan worried that she might actually burst like a human gore balloon.

As Sundew and Willowbud fluttered to the counter to surf and dance on their spoils, Morgan’s look at the girl at the counter turned desperate. “Those...drone robots the kids are making sure….look realistic, huh? I can...uh...make them give those back, if you want. Because, you know, the drones. Probably have...microphone...things. To listen with.”

Effie stared in utter disbelief. The little things with wings were cackling and shooting finger guns while this woman was making it rain the contents of her purse on the ground. Suddenly, the singsongy voice coming out of this other woman’s hair was making sense. Effie looked at her panicked smile and looked back at Karen, who was… Well, now she wasn’t very happy.

“Drones,” Effie repeated, eyeing the dancing creatures doubtfully. Drones her ass. Still, the look on the bitch’s face was really something to look at, and Effie let out a low laugh, shaking her head. “Drones! Right. Drones!” Effie was not the best actor in the world, but she was trying her best. “Well, it seems like maybe we should give the lady back her checkbook and cards. And I’ll take this --” Effie slide a wadded up ten dollar bill towards the little creatures, “-- as a fee for disturbing the peace. For the … Children, of course.”

“Maybe we should make her give up the rest!” Sundew said. She flew up to the woman, flitting this way and that, closer to her eyes. “What do you think, human? Do you think anything? Do you? Do you? Do you? Do you? Do you? DO YOU?” Sundew flicked her on the forehead. “Should we keep playing robber? Or maybe we should play tie ‘em to the train tracks instead.”

The woman, still a little purple and now definitely terrified for her sanity, took out a roll of bills from her cleavage and threw it on the ground. Finally freed from the request, she stumbled back and left the shop, too horrified to scream.

Morgan deflated, bending down to pick up the most conspicuous items off the floor and push them over the counter. “You should definitely take the checkbook and plastic,” she mumbled. “They’ve learned to type, and I really don’t want to learn what their taste in online shopping is.” She put her head over her arms and stayed there, looking sidelong at the girl. Sundew and Willowbud were too pleased with themselves to care much. Like many fae, they assigned value by shininess and aesthetic more than anything else. For now, at least. “You’re taking all of this really well. Tiny ‘drones’ flying out of a woman’s purse the middle of your store, harassing your customer, playing--” she looked back at them and shook her head, despairing. “I don’t even want to know. But, I appreciate it, and if you can handle mailing that harpy of a woman her sensitive stuff back, I can compensate you extra for the...mess.”

The woman fled from the shop, forgetting all about her greasy laptop and all of her personal belongings now scattered about the store. Effie stared after her in somewhat impressed astonishment. She looked at the woman bending to pick up the checkbook and plastic, and nodded as she grabbed it and the computer, automatically going to the safe. “I can ship it out tonight,” she said simply with a shrug. “She left her address on file, and I think her license is somewhere in that mess too.”

“Uh --” Effie looked down at the two little creatures. “Well, uh…” Actually, it was probably a good idea to check in to see how she actually felt about the existence of … these things. Fae. Had to be. Her grandmother’s warnings echoed in her head along with the insistence that she eat more dinner. “I’ve been around,” was all she said. “And I don’t particularly… ask questions unless I need to know.” It was simpler that way, anyway, and it kept people at arm's length, which is what she liked.

She stooped under the counter and pulled out paperwork -- the ones to start a ticket. “Your phone’s been waterlogged, right? Just fill this stuff out for me and I’ll take a look to see if there’s anything I can do. And you two…” she looked down at the two creatures. She looked back at Morgan. “Uh. I have candy??”

Morgan’s tired face brightened with relief. Slowly, she smiled. “Wow. I think that might actually be a first. I’m guessing that’s how you and this place are still standing.” She grabbed the paperwork and filled it out, writing a little ‘no promises’ in the corner, punctuated with a smiley face as a warning.

At the mention of candy, Morgan checked back in on the two pixies, who paused in their frolicking to proclaim, “We accept your tribute!” before going back to making the dollar bills roll like a mini ocean. “You really do know what you’re doing. I had to ask an expert to figure that one out,” she marvelled, sliding the pad over. “I know these aren’t the most auspicious circumstances, but my name is Morgan Beck and you just became my new favorite person in town.”

[wonderlustlucas]

mistletoe? oh no! - im jaebeom

⇢ prompt Why do we kiss under a mistletoe when it’s a parasitic plant that steals nutrients from its host tree? ⇢ pairing jaebeom x female reader ⇢ word count 6.9k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings swearing. alcohol. suggestive make out at the end :D ⇢ summary Six months ago, you drunkenly kissed Im Jaebeom on a beach trip with your friends. Afterward, the awkward tension kept the two of you from ever having the ‘What are we?’ talk and eventually, too much time had passed for anything to ever happen. Luckily, Pollyanna and a stupidly placed mistletoe have brought your feelings to the boiling point.—friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n happy new year’s my loves! as one last hurrah for 2019 & as part of @kwritersworld‘s holiday writing event, here is yet another idiots to lovers, christmas/nye au! here’s to a lovely new year, & new decade. i hope you all have a blessed, joyous, & prosperous year. i love you! ♥︎

You once thought that you were an introvert.

You know— someone deemed shy, with a preference to keep to themselves rather than going out of their way to interact with others. Introvert. Opposite of extrovert.

It wasn’t until you were a senior in high school did you learn new definitions for these personality categories. An introvert—according to your philosophy teacher and a TED Talk speaker shown on the projector during class—is someone who, simply put, thinks of how they feel before speaking. Extroverts, on the other hand, only identify their true feelings on a topic after they have begun discussing it.

The lesson stuck with you. Albeit your perpetual reservation from others, you were always one to argue. Smart, excellent report card over the years— but found yourself blurting your opinion out at the first chance before fully thinking it through. Now, you concluded, I suppose I’m an extrovert if that truly is what it means. This knowledge, for some strange reason, gave you a token for change. If I’m an extrovert, you thought, I must start acting one.

Now, having just been accepted into law school, you think you have hit the nail on the head when it comes to meeting both definitions of an extrovert. Park Jinyoung, on the other hand, has his doubts.

“Are you sure you want to do this? Have you really thought about what this is gonna do to your life?” Despite the genuine concern laced in his tone, Jinyoung’s words make you wince. How he manages to suck the life out of a celebratory night out for drinks truly is beyond you.

“Yes, Jinyoung,” you groan, taking a desperate sip of your coquito like it’s really going to help against his insufferableness, “I’ve only been working for this for a few years, let me change my mind now.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” he counters, leaning in close enough for you to taste his Jo Malone fragrance on your tongue. You raise a skeptical brow at him. “Have you thought about what becoming a lawyer is going to make of your life?” His words are clipped and emphasized like he is speaking to a child, trying desperately to get his point across.

“I appreciate you looking out for me and my future, Jinyoung,” you sigh, reclining back in your bar stool because sitting that close to Jinyoung for that long makes your head dizzy, “but I promise you, I have thought about this. I know I have a lot of hard work ahead of me, but it’s what I want to do. I promise.”

Jinyoung huffs, defeated, before tipping his wine glass back and chugging what is left like some sort of animal. Very not Jinyoung-like. “Well, then I guess there’s no reason to not celebrate with you,” he grins. Then, not even a beat later, “When are you gonna make time to marry Jaebeom and have a bunch of sexy little babies?”

“Aw, for crying out loud!” You howl, slapping a hand to your forehead before turning to him with a pointed glare and a pointed finger. “Okay, first of all, the fact that you used sexy and babies in the same sentence concerns me. And second, stop saying me and Jaebeom are going to get married! He doesn’t even look at me, how do you equate marriage out of that?”

“You mean, you don’t look at him. You guys had a great time when we went to the beach not even six months ago, saw each other half naked, shared a drunken kiss before bed, and then dropped all communication! What the hell is up with that?” Jinyoung has a habit of lecturing you like it’s his full-time job and it drives you absolutely insane because he’s always right.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumble, bringing your glass to your lips and taking a lengthy sip just to buy some time. “Come on, ___. My boy is out here drowning in unrequited love while you’re just all ‘Teehee! I’m a lawyer! Don’t talk to me when I’m doing lawyer tings!’ Cut the bullshit and let him take you on a date and blow your back out for Christ’s sake!”

You are physically unable to suppress your laughter, hand flying to cover your mouth and head thrown back at his comical outburst. He’s lucky you love him or else he would seriously regret that outrageously inaccurate imitation of your voice. He’s lucky you are tipsy enough to lose yourself in laughter and he’s especially lucky that he is correct, once again.

“Jinyoung,” you wheeze, letting out one more breathless giggle before flipping on the serious mode switch, “I would love to not only go out on a date with Jaebeom, but to date him. But things got awkward and so much time as passed that suddenly starting things up again would be weird. Don’t you think?”

“No!” Jinyoung yells. Half the people at the bar jump at the noise and turn to glare. You do just the same before shooting an older gentleman beside Jinyoung an apologetic look. “I just don’t think you’re drinking enough.”

“Yes,” then, a pause to ask the bartender for the check now that Jinyoung’s lectures are starting to put a downer on you, “that’s exactly it. I’m afraid to get drunk off my ass when Jaebeom’s around because I’ll do something stupid and either scare him off or bring him home and both are terrible options!”

“You’re no fun,” Jinyoung scoffs, “my two best friends, both pining after one another, but pulling the sixteen-year-old card and not talking to each other. Great! Just great.”

You laugh, hopping down from your seat and patting his knee once you have slipped on your coat. “Buy a mistletoe for the Christmas party and maybe something can be arranged.”

Jinyoung doesn’t find it funny.

For the past six years, it has been tradition for you and your friends to have a belated Christmas slash New Year’s party where Pollyanna gifts are exchanged and an excessive amount of alcohol is consumed because, well, your friends are fun. For the past three, however, you have been holding said party at Youngjae’s house, because he is the only one who has a house and houses are infinitely better for parties than apartments. Plus, Youngjae is a gracious man who welcomes the company year after year. Can’t understand why he wants nine psychopaths in his lovely little abode, but that’s not your problem.

What is your problem is the fact that there actually is a mistletoe hanging from the ceiling fan in the kitchen. You’re going to kill Jinyoung.

You once thought Choi Youngjae was the coolest person to bless the planet. Now, you’re not so sure.

It’s the first thing your eye goes to upon entering Youngjae’s outrageously beautiful row home. Usually, you need a solid ten minutes to accept the fact that you will never become a model and have as many zeroes at the end of your savings as Youngjae, spending way too much time swooning over his grey vinyl wood floors and brick fireplace and white marble countertops. This time, however, while Jinyoung and Yugyeom do the whole bro hug greeting after wiping the snow from their shoes, you stand pressed up awkwardly against the front door, crockpot of buffalo chicken dip in hand, glaring at the stupid thing from two rooms over. Before you can turn an accusing finger to Jinyoung, Youngjae has turned to welcome you.

“You made it!” He cheers, flashing that thousand-watt smile of his and easing some of the tension that has begun to build up in your nerves like plaque. “Somehow, someway,” you return, relaxing into his embrace when he curves around the precious chicken dip to offer a half hug. “You need a drink,” Youngjae decides after having evaluated the lack of excitement in your response. Following after Jinyoung and Yugyeom, he leads you into the kitchen with a lively bounce to his step. “Bambam just finished making hot toddies, or you could be the first to take from our jell-o shot Christmas tree.”

He gestures to said “tree” on his dining table, a neatly stacked pile of green, red, and blue jell-o shots and you feel awfully terrible at having to ruin its perfected assembly. “It’s beautiful,” you muse, setting the crockpot on the counter and plugging its cord into an outlet, “it would be my honor to have the first one.”

“___!” Hollers Jackson as he slides open the door from the back patio and enters the kitchen, Maggie filing in after him. He must have joined her for a smoke outside. He proceeds to do a little dance shimmy as he makes his way over to you. “Jackson, my love,” you grin, squeezing him into a tight hug after he slaps a messy kiss to your cheek. “How are you, Miss I-Got-Accepted-Into-Law-School?”

That is going to be the topic of discussion for the night, it seems, and the heat of an embarrassed blush works its way up your neck at the realization. “I’m good. Really good, actually,” you say, directing your attention to Maggie who slips around Jackson to tuck into your side, “definitely not as stressed as I was. The holidays are a nice break from everything.”

“We’re all so proud of you,” Maggie hums, leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Seriously, congratulations, again. You deserve it,” Jackson praises, reaching to squeeze your cheek. You swat his hand away in fear he will mess up the foundation you spent way too much time applying.

“Thank you, guys. I’m glad someone is happy for me,” you grumble, directing a cold glare to Jinyoung who, somehow, has already managed to fire Yugyeom up.

“What?” Bambam interjects, jumping into the conversation now that he has made his way into the room. “Didn’t you guys go out when you got accepted?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, smiling to the very expensive looking boy, “but he’s more worried than excited. Thinks I’m not considering how becoming a lawyer is going to affect my future, the stress of it, having a family, but…”

Maggie scoffs. “God, he sounds like your dad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Ugh! Everyone, shoo! Why are we all in the kitchen? Go sit in the living room,” Youngjae hisses, grabbing Bambam by the shoulders and shoving him out of the room. Bambam makes a sound of protest, gesturing dramatically to all the food and the pot of hot toddy still on the stove.

“You can come back when there isn’t an entire crowd in here,” Youngjae counters, slapping a handful of jell-o shots into his hands, “I made Yugyeom promise to not eat all of ___’s dip, you don’t need to worry.” Bambam grumbles in response, stumbling after the others and you follow suit with a laugh.

Pausing just before the living room, Bambam stops to pass everyone a shot. “Here’s to Christmas and getting Jaebeom and ___ to kiss under the mistletoe.”

“Stop!” You whine, just as the rest ‘clink’ their cups and shout, “Cheers!” Nevertheless, down the hatch the jell-o goes and you glare at them all once they are done.

“Oh, speak of the Devil,” Yugyeom snickers just as you have ran ahead to crash down on the sofa, stretching your legs out across the chaise. Rolling over off your stomach, you turn to watch Mark, Jaebeom, and Shelby arrive, one too many gift bags and bottles of wine in hand. “Oh,” Maggie whispers from beside you, elbow nudging into your side, “look at your man.”

Funny thing is, you already are. To give you the benefit of the doubt— you were already watching the trio stumble into the room anyway, but it just so happened you stopped at Jaebeom. Before things between you got complicated, when you were just friends, he always had a way of stealing the oxygen from your lungs. Now is no different.

Dressed in black slacks, a white tee tucked in and a baby blue blazer to top it all off, Jaebeom looks nothing short of marvelous. He’s been growing his hair out, too, the black waves curling down to brush his cheekbones, screaming to be combed through with your fingers. And oh Christ, you can’t even begin to talk about the nose piercing. In the midst of your swooning, Jaebeom looks up after having deemed his sneakers clean enough to walk through Youngjae’s home, scanning the room before conveniently landing on you. The blush on both of your faces is instantaneous, hardly a second of maintaining eye contact before the embarrassment burns too hot and you turn away. Still, you can’t fight your smile.

Neither can he.

“Now the party’s started!” Mark hoots, swinging two bottles in the air like he’s asking for disaster. “Hurry and put everything down so we can play something,” Yugyeom whines from his seat across the room, pushing Jaebeom’s butt to move faster. “Patience is a virtue, Yugyeom,” Jinyoung comments, throwing a Hershey Kiss wrapper at him.

“Absolute children,” Maggie mutters. You hum in agreement.

“Do you wanna play the alphabet game?” Bambam proposes, earning a groan from Jackson. He hates the game, despite how often you all play it, claiming it takes too much brain power for a party.

“Yes! I’m down,” Shelby shouts anyway, having returned in time to hear Bambam’s question. To Jackson’s misery, you all agree as well.

“Youngjae!” Bambam shouts, waiting for him to yell back. “Grab the peppermint vodka when you come in! We’re playing the alphabet game!”

The way you all play most likely has deviated from the original rules of the game, but it works and it’s fun. Sitting in a circle, you go through the alphabet, naming something in a certain category that begins with whatever letter you’re on. For example, if you were doing fruits and were on the letter W, you could say watermelon. But, the person to your right is counting to ten, and once that time is up, you have to take a shot and the letter moves on to the next person until someone gets a word. Sounds easy, until you’re three shots in and not even halfway through the alphabet.

With Shelby collapsing down between Yugyeom and Jackson on the love seat, Youngjae on the armchair by the fireplace, and Mark on the bean bag brought down from upstairs, you realize with a rising sense of panic that the only possible seating for Jaebeom is by—

“Hey,” he says, tapping your outstretched legs, “can I sit here? You can keep your legs stretched. I don’t mind.”

“Oh, sure, sure!” You squeak, jerking to sit up and to pull your legs to your chest. However, just as he sits, he grabs your ankles to tug them back. Hesitantly, and with an appreciative smile sent his way, you hesitantly lay your legs over his lap, his arms comfortably rested over them. Oh, fuck.

Swallowing hard and trying to ignore the way your heart flutters in her chest, you turn back to your friends where the game is just starting.

“Okay, I’ll start since I’m in the middle,” Mark announces, readjusting himself in the bean bag to sit closer to the coffee table, “Yugyeom, you count. Actually, you don’t need to, I already have my word. A, as in artificial tree.”

“One word, idiot,” Youngjae scoffs, smacking the back of Mark’s head, “take a shot. Yugyeom, you go.”

The younger boy pales, panicking when Mark does as he is told. Then, he blurts, “A as in angel!”

“B as in bells!” Shelby shouts.

“C as in… Christmas,” Jackson says with a wink.

“D as in December,” Jinyoung hums nonchalantly.

“E as in eggnog!” Bambam cheers.

“F as in…” Maggie pales, trailing off. In your head, you start to count, while simultaneously trying to think of a holiday word that starts with F. “Festive!” She shouts suddenly. “Oh, shit, um… G as in… gingerbread?” You huff, relieved.

“H as in holiday,” Jaebeom says with a soft smile. All eyes are on Youngjae as he stares hopelessly at the ceiling. “I, as in…”

In your head, you count alongside Mark. “What the fuck starts with I?” Youngjae hisses, slapping his knees anxiously. The silence is deafening until Mark shouts with a sadistic grin, “TEN!” Youngjae hangs his head low before reaching for the bottle. Ironic, because Mark can’t think of a word, and neither can Yugyeom, Shelby, or Jackson. Jinyoung grins at their expense until it’s his turn. “Icicle,” he says without a beat.

“That’s not Christmas-y!” Yugyeom whines, hands thrown up dramatically. “Can you think of anything better, stupid?” Jinyoung fires back, evidently shutting him up. Poor Yugyeom, he can never win.

“J as in Jesus,” Bambam says with a laugh.

“K? Bruh, you gotta be joking,” Maggie sighs, throwing her head back against the sofa, trying to concentrate. “Ten,” you sigh sadly even though you counted to fifteen, patting her knee and Youngjae passes her the bottle. “Um, K as in…” Christ, you can’t think of anything either. Kris Kringle? No, two words, fuck.

“Ten!” Jaebeom chuckles, squeezing your calf and you quickly take a swig with a wince. The round goes all the way to Shelby, who happily yells, “Kings!”

The game drags on, keeping you all at the edge of your seats by the time U and V come around. When it comes to W, everyone has had one too many shots to be able to think quickly enough to come up with wreath. Except for Jinyoung, of course. You give up on Z, deciding there is no such word and you all let out a relieved breath at the game’s conclusion. “Does this mean we can eat now?” Jackson mumbles, far too gone for a party that has only started hardly an hour ago.

“Yes! I’m ravenous,” Bambam groans, helping his friend stand. Together, they’re the first to make way into the kitchen and you’re surprised Youngjae doesn’t chase after them to make sure they don’t knock anything over.

“Well,” Jaebeom yawns and you are suddenly mortified to realize that your legs are still casually stretched out over his lap. “That was fun.” Swinging your legs away and moving to sit up, you nod in agreement. “Very fun. Love watching you and Jinyoung outsmart us every time.”

“Hey,” he frowns, elbowing your arm now that you’re sitting upright beside him, “nobody could think of tree for T, but you did, so shush.” You turn to give him an unamused look. “That’s because Jinyoung was overthinking, and Maggie and Bam drank too much,” you laugh, standing with a stretch. Jaebeom raises an eyebrow. “What?” You ask, unsure of what that look means.

“Why does your snowman have a cape? Oh—” he starts, lifting the fabric attached to the winking snowman on your ugly sweater to find a carrot penis below the three buttons. Jaebeom breaks out into laughter, face scrunched up and head thrown back and it consequently makes you laugh, too. Well, if there was any person that was going to ask first, you’re glad it was him. “Was not expecting that,” he chuckles, wiping the tears that have accumulated at his eyes before rising to stand and oh, suddenly you feel so small with him standing so close to you like that. God, he’s beautiful, you admire. Without thinking, you brush away a tuft of hair that has fallen over his eye, just to see your favorite pair of moles. It isn’t until rosiness blooms across his cheekbones do you realize what you just did.

“Sorry,” you rush breathlessly, taking a step back and turning to make sure nobody saw that. Luckily, only Shelby and Yugyeom remain, too busy cozying up to one another to notice. “___!” Maggie shouts from the kitchen like some godsent angel whose purpose is to save you from awkward moments. “You have to come see this!”

You shoot Jaebeom an awkward smile before swinging around him and making a beeline for the kitchen. Idiot, you scold yourself before taking a deep breath and bringing a smile to your face. “What?” You hum, leaning your head on Maggie’s shoulder. All it is is a SnapChat story of someone you went to university with, a picture of an engagement ring, but you are beyond grateful she called you in. After she stops to take a selfie with you, you navigate around your friends to start a pile of food on your plate, everything from dim sum (thanks, Jackson), grilled pork belly, kimbap, bulgogi sandwiches, spaghetti (thanks, Jackson, part two), and, of course, tortilla chips with your buffalo chicken dip. Big plate for big brain.

Despite the crowdedness, thankfully you are able to avoid standing anywhere close to the mistletoe once Jaebeom enters the room only a few moments later. Finally making your way to the dining table, you let out a sigh of relief now that you don’t have to worry about anything looming above. Of course, your friends have a different idea.

“___,” Maggie purrs just as you have set your plate down, gazing at you expectantly and fluttering her lashes.

“What do you want?”

“Could you get a water for me? There’s bottles in the fridge. Pleeeaaase?” She sings. You wave her off, having already turned around. Can’t be mad at her, honestly; you forgot to grab something for yourself to drink, anyway. Pulling two bottles off the shelves and nudging the refrigerator door closed, you’re just trying to grab a potato chip from the bowl on the counter when Mark rounds the corner and trips over his own feet, coincidentally falling towards you but when you step back to avoid the red wine sloshing in his glass, Jinyoung has suddenly appeared behind you and you stumble over his foot.

It’s a good plan, you think, expecting Jaebeom to catch you like some fucking knight of shining armor and steady you just below the mistletoe, but unfortunately for them, you’re quick to reach for the counter and Jaebeom has literally just turned around in his search for silverware. Regaining your balance against the cabinets, you do not miss the group’s combined groan of disappointment and can’t help but triumphantly grin. “You okay, Mark?” You ask, spinning around and suppressing a laugh at the ‘please don’t kill me’ look in the older boy’s eyes. “Yep,” he coughs, stepping to the side as you brush past.

Dinner is tense, to say the least. Maybe it’s just you. You’re annoyed, beyond so, at your friends’ lack of maturity. Relatively speaking, yes, they are trying to help push you and Jaebeom in the right direction, but their ways of operation lack any beneficial qualities. This is your problem, and you have to deal with it yourself.

You stay quiet, for the most part, occupying your thoughts simply on eating and the approaching excitement of Pollyanna. When you all picked out of a hat a little over a month ago, you initially panicked at Bambam’s name looking back at you on the folded piece of paper. As it turned out, buying gifts for him ended up working out; first, you found matching sweaters for him and his cats, then a travel set for his Bleu de Chanel cologne, a mermaid blanket he had found an Instagram ad for and wouldn’t shut up about, and finally a gift card to his favorite Thai restaurant. What’s more exciting is finding out who has your gifts. Plus, everyone did incredibly well keeping quiet this year, managing to make it all the way without slipping who had who.

Unfortunately, your irritable emotions aren’t done for the night. After finishing your much needed, sobering meal, your goblin friends are prepared to have you and Jaebeom beneath that mistletoe if it’s the last thing they will ever do. Trying to clean up before everyone really gets trashed is an absolute nightmare, everyone taking part in the scheme of leaving just the two of you in the room, nudging him your way, asking you to help Jaebeom do this, help Jaebeom do that. It only gets worse once he realizes what they’re trying to do, curving around you like you have the plague and each time you make eye contact, you contemplate fleeing to the bathroom just to scream.

After what feels like ages spent in the stifling kitchen, you migrate back to the living room to finally, finally open gifts. Good riddance, mistletoe. At everyone’s look of general disappointment, you let out your umpteenth relieved sigh of the night and collapse back into your precious spot at the sofa. You know you’re getting old when you have only been out for two and a half hours and you’re already exhausted.

To make matters worse—or better, you can’t really tell at this point—Jaebeom also sits back down beside you. You can tell he’s anxious; he’s gone back and forth between picking at his nails and a scab on his jaw for a while now and you almost want to say something until you remember how deliberately he dodged you in the kitchen. Maybe, just maybe, a part of you had hoped he would have taken the opportunity and kissed you himself. Why would things ever be so simple?

“Alrighty, friends,” settling into his chair, Youngjae beams. “Let’s get this party started. We’ll go in the same circle as before.”

In turn, Mark flashes that boyish smile of his and leans across the table to pass a bag and small box to Jinyoung. “Ooh,” the younger boy hums excitedly, “thanks, Mark.” Next, Yugyeom hands Jackson a bag, Shelby slides a big box to Youngjae, and, breaking into a fit of laughter, Jackson ends up giving a bag right back to Yugyeom. Jinyoung passes Maggie her gift, and when Bambam rises to hand Jaebeom a hefty bag, you can’t help but miss the way he glances sadly to you before smiling gratefully at his friend and engulfing him into a hug. Suddenly, it dawns on you that there are only three other people left, and watch with an impending sense of dread as Maggie walks across the room to give Shelby her gift. Two left.

Grinning excitedly, you lean over to pass Bambam his gift bag, earning a smile in return bright enough to put the Sun out of business. Now, the moment you all have been waiting for.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turn to Jaebeom, sending all prayers to God that he will rise to hand Mark the bag in his hands.

The universe laughs.

“Ugh,” Jaebeom groans, grinning like a Cheshire cat, ��you’re so far.” He places the gift bag, which, is surprisingly heavier than expected, on your lap. “Thanks, Jae,” you manage, smiling fondly at him. Behind him, Youngjae drops a box by Mark’s feet, but by now everything around you has faded into the background, leaving only you and Jaebeom floating in the midst of it all. Even though he has turned away, you can’t stop staring at him. Why’d it have to be him? What are the chances? God, something tells you you’re going to fall in love by the time the night is over.

It isn’t until the tearing of wrapping paper registers in your mind do you snap out of it, coming back to reality and quickly redirecting your attention to opening your gift.

There’s a lot to unfold here, you think with a racing heart, removing the tissue paper and finding three separate items inside. You go for the small box first. It’s a jewelry box, no doubt, but this doesn’t keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay once you lift the beige lid to reveal a rose gold bracelet, diamonds in the pattern of a constellation. There’s a small card attached to the lid, too, and flipping that over you read that it is the constellation for your zodiac sign. “Jae,” you whimper, lips curling into a pout and he laughs at your touched expression. “This is beautiful.”

“Shh! Open everything first,” he hushes, waving you off and returning to his own gift.

Sucking in a deep breath, you do as you’re told and reach for the much larger box. Tearing open the wrapping paper and lifting the lid, you find a glass dome atop a wooden base, and inside is a beautiful red and gold rose with little fairy lights surrounding it. A Beauty and the Beast replicate, without a doubt, and it is so stunning you wish you could lift the glass and feel the fake rose for yourself. A man of taste, without a doubt.

Last but not least, you grab the envelope and excitedly tear it open, because envelopes mean one of three things: 1) a card 2) tickets 3) money, all unlikely options when it comes to Pollyanna.

Well, maybe not, because inside are two passes for the art museum up in the city. “Dude,” you kick Jaebeom’s ankle and stammer out, “how did you? When did you?”

He laughs. “You mentioned wanting to go a few months ago, and I didn’t think you ever got a chance. You haven’t, right?” He sounds worried. “No, I never got to go,” swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, “thank you, Jaebeom. Everything is so beautiful.”

“Of course, ___,” he smiles, reaching for your hand and even though it’s only a gentle squeeze he gives you, it has your heart doing somersaults. “Anything for you.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You are going through some serious torture here and still won’t make a move!

Everyone is extraordinarily jovial after opening gifts. With Christmas music filling the room with cheer and one too many drinks being mixed, holiday charades and pin the nose on Rudolph are played with high spirits and excessive competitiveness. The night is fun, without a doubt, and you try to ignore the way your friends are still trying to get you and Jaebeom under the mistletoe no matter how annoying it may be. Why can’t they do it to Yugyeom and Shelby? Sure, everyone knows they fuck but neither of them have the balls to officially ask the other out, so why are you the one targeted? Jaebeom didn’t ask for this, either.

“Fuck!” Youngjae groans when Maggie makes her shot into their cup for jingle bell beer pong. Since freshman year, you and Maggie have fought back and forth for the champion's title against Youngjae and Jackson. With this being the second win against them for the night, you get to wear the label proud until next time. “Oh, yeah, baby!” She shouts, doing a funky celebratory dance before jumping to give you a hug.

“I’m a disgrace to the Chinese community,” Jackson cries—literally—before squatting to bury his face in his knees.

“HA!” You laugh mercilessly, jumping along with Maggie in triumph. “You guys are so mean,” Mark chuckles, walking away from their own losers’ championship to see what all the commotion is about. “Just to Youngjae and Jackson,” Maggie defends, gesturing to the pair having a drunken meltdown together. You hum in agreement.

“Yugyeom and Jaebeom are playing Jinyoung and Bambam. It’s pretty intense,” Mark explains, blatantly sarcastic when you glance curiously to the other table. “They’re all so drunk, they’re literally just throwing bells at each other.” He holds up one such bell that must have strayed away from the game. You laugh, hugging your jacket closer and watching Yugyeom begin to twerk when he finally makes a shot.

“My God,” Maggie snickers, shielding her eyes and turning away from the scene to comfort the still depressed Jackson.

“So,” Mark starts, “you and Jaebeom, huh?”

You groan. “Me and Jaebeom, what?”

“I mean, those gifts he gave you were pretty cute. What’s it gonna take for you to ask him to go to the museum with you, hm?” He purrs with a rise of his dark brows. Shit, he does have a point. Why else would Jaebeom give you two passes? To bring one of your other, definitely less artsy friends to go with you?”

Mark simpers at your speechless self, knowing he’s trumped you.

Sucking in a deep breath, you hold the cold air in long enough to gather your scrambling thoughts before releasing a heavy exhale with absolutely no change to how you feel. “I’ll try,” you grumble, “why can’t he make the first move?”

Mark lets out a dry laugh. “___, are you serious?”

“Huh? What—”

“He’s been making the first move for months,” he interrupts, shaking his head at your textbook definition denseness, “you’ve just been curving him the entire time. I know you’ve been busy with law school stuff the past few months, but come on, now. You have to grab him before someone else does.”

If it weren’t for the chill of the air keeping your cheeks and the tip of your nose cold and ruddy, you know the color would have drained from your face. Embarrassed and in desperate need for some space, you quickly turn away to look in the direction of the house, where Coco scratches at the backdoor.

“I, um, I’ll be right back,” you say, voice small. Heart hammering in your chest as you jog up the steps and across the small deck, it isn’t until you have slid open the door to let Coco out and closed it behind you do you let out a shaky sigh. “Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking off your jacket and slinging it over a chair before moving to cower in the corner. Reaching for what little tortilla chips are left, you anxiously take the lid off your chicken dip and begin shoveling mouthfuls into your mouth. Is it true? Have you really been the one dodging Jaebeom all this time? Sure, everyone always says it, especially Jinyoung, but it has seemed like Jaebeom has been curving you, too.

Maybe he has just been giving up.

This makes your head hurt, you think, bending down to rest your forehead against the counter. The fucking gifts, man. Mark is right—the bracelet, the rose lamp, the museum tickets. How did he remember that small detail you mentioned… when did you even mention it? You can’t remember, yet he did! Jesus, all this time you’ve wasted being an absolute clown over this. You’ll have to do something about it. Tonight, you decide, looking to the clock above the stove. 11:12 PM. Forty-eight minutes until New Year’s. You’ll kiss him, and that’s when you will—

“Ahem.” Behind you, someone clears their throat and it quite literally feels as if you have jumped out of your skin. “Jesus Christ!” You jump, spinning around with a heart thumping in your chest. Your heartbeat only mildly slows once you realize it’s only Jaebeom. OnlyJaebeom, yeah. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, chuckling awkwardly. “Did I interrupt something?”

You wince, beyond humiliated he caught you mid-pep talk slash breakdown. “No, no. You’re fine, I was just, um…”

“Catching a breath?” He finishes when you trail off. Maybe he’s not so drunk, after all.

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking to your feet.

After a long moment of silence, Jaebeom clears his throat. “Listen, ___, I… I’ve been meaning to talk to you, and—”

“Wait!” You interrupt before your brain has even caught up. His eyes widen in surprise at your sudden excitement. “I need to tell you something, first.”

“Ohhh ‘kay,” he laughs nervously, stepping closer to lean against the counter beside you and his proximity suddenly makes it very hard to breathe, let alone figure out what you want to say.

“I don’t know where to start. Okay, um, first, I guess. The gifts you gave me? Amazing. Probably one of the best I’ve ever gotten. So thank you, really,” you start, rushed and out of breath. Jaebeom hums, lips tilting into an amused smirk. You don’t miss how he leans just barely closer. “Second. Mark was just talking to me, and he said something that just… fucked me up. Apparently, I’m good at school but not at catching when someone actually, truly likes me.”

At this, Jaebeom’s curiosity has peaked and his heartbeat starts to mirror your own. “I don’t know how this happened. I know we kissed over the summer, and you have been my friend for years but all of a sudden, I realized that I like you. You’re like, one of my favorite people in the world. But then things got crazy busy and I told myself I needed to concentrate, but for fuck’s sake, I’m still head over heels for you after all this time. And Mark said that if I don’t stop curving you, soon you are going to find someone else and, Jesus, I don’t think I can live with myself if I let you slip by.”

Somewhere in the middle of your ramble, Jaebeom has pressed himself to you and curled a finger through a belt loop in your jeans to keep you there against him. Even up close, he is so unbearably handsome, nose still beet red from the cold, lips cracked and face left unshaven. “So,” he whispers, raising his free hand to cup your face, “are you ready to finally stop running from me?” You offer a tiny nod, nuzzling into his hand before, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Can you kiss me?” Jaebeom doesn’t waste any time bothering to answer, tipping your chin up to meet his lips. Jaebeom’s kiss is soft, just a drawn-out peck but it’s enough to drop kick your sanity right out the door. “Tastes like buffalo chicken,” he whispers with a smile, just barely pulling back. Just as soon as he has stopped, you are fisting your hands into his jacket and tugging him back, greedily opening his mouth with yours and whimpering against him once he has caught the hint and slackened his jaw to deepen the kiss. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but kissing Jaebeom leaves you breathless, limbs weak kind of drunk on his taste and leaving you desperate for more.

“Jaebeom,” you sigh dreamily, arching into him when he drags a hand down your spine. “Fuck,” he whispers, pushing you further against the cabinets and mindlessly gyrating his hips with yours. Hands brushing past your ass to grip the back of your thighs, he orders, “Jump.” You do as he says, allowing him to help you onto the counter and you distantly pray someone doesn’t walk in on you, especially Youngjae. He’ll murder you if you knock something down.

“Can’t believe you’ve kept me waiting all this time when you kiss like that,” Jaebeom mutters, kissing along the length of your neck and groaning against your skin when your hands brush along the waistband of his pants. “Never met someone who wears an ugly sweater and still manages to be the hottest one in the room.”

Your breath hitches when his hand slips beneath your sweater, fingers brushing just over your bra and leaving fire in their wake. “Impossible,” you huff, wrapping your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer, his involuntary thrusts brushing deliciously against you, “when I say the same thing about you.” Jaebeom chuckles, returning to your mouth and cradling your jaw to meet him. You could do this forever, you think, nails digging into his arms when his hand cards through your hair and he kisses like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“God, I can’t do this when I’m not sober,” he sighs, leaning his forehead against yours and you can’t help but smile at the soft gesture. “Me too,” you admit, reaching to play with the soft hair at the back of his neck, “we can do this whenever now, though.” Jaebeom chuckles, leaning back to admire you before placing a much softer kiss on your lips. “Does that mean you’ll go out on a date with me?”

“Well, yes, of course,” you grin, sliding off the counter and cupping his face, “I meant what I said. I can’t bear the thought of not giving us a chance.”

“It’s about damn time,” Jaebeom teases, earning a light punch to his arm. “Hey! I’ve been stressed out of my mind. I was blind when it came to seeing you flirt with me.”

“I’m kidding, ___,” he chuckles, “I’m glad it took us until now. It’s a good way to start off the year, knowing I’ll meet my New Year’s Resolution and be able to bone you sooner than later.”

Your eyes widen at his words, warmth instantly blooming its way up your neck when you glance to the growing tent in his slacks and he lets out a triumphant laugh. In the midst of your embarrassed flush, the back-door slides open and none other than Jinyoung starts shouting, “Where the fuck have y’all been? Oh— shit! What happened?”

Then, not a heartbeat later, “Kiss! KIIIISSSSSSS!”

“KISS!” Maggie screams, bouncing behind Jinyoung and it isn’t until you look up do you understand. Of fucking course— the stupid mistletoe.

“Shall we, m’lady?” Jaebeom asks, voice laced with amusement. You quirk a brow at him, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him closer.

“We shall.”

·

·

·

Not even three hours into the new decade, Jaebeom has already met his New Year’s Resolution.

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

lips burrow so deep, give me good sleep

summary: requested: (1) Andy Barber insisting reader sits on his face and he makes her come so many times she can barely hold herself up... so he does it for her supporting her back and keeps going. (2)  imagine Andy Barber’s reaction to reader wearing one of his old college hoodies with lingerie underneath. He definitely strikes me as the possessive type so seeing you in something so /him/ would definitely set something off in him

warnings: some smut. pretty vanilla shit until the end tbh.

word count: around 3,750

pairing: andy barber  x reader

a/n: i can’t believe the show is almost overrrr...i’ll never be over this man tho!

The last time Andy came home early, it was purely under Lynn’s orders. He had a terrible fever that he’d managed to hide from you, his insistence that he not let anyone else manage any part of his case had made him think going to work while sick was a good idea.

So, hearing the door at two in the afternoon was nothing short of worrisome. You had been curled up on the couch with your tablet, resigned to a boring and quiet day until your husband got home. Normally, that was four hours out from two in the afternoon.

“Baby?” you called out. “Is that you or an intruder with a key?”

He snorted. “It’s me.”

You turned curiously, watching him as he went to place his keys and phone on the counter. “What are you doing home early?”

“What are you doing home early?”

“Finished with my most current client, they have simple tastes.” As an event planner, the simple clients were your least favorite.

He sat down next to you on the couch. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

You took his hand, linking your fingers through his. You kissed the back of his hand before asking, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache.”

“Take your jacket off.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “My jacket?”

You gave him a flat look. “Yes, jacket and tie, off.”

He tossed them carelessly onto the arm of the couch and looked at you.

You pat the blanket that was draped over you. “Lay with me.”

He smiled softly. “It’s surprising when you have pure intentions, Mrs. Barber.”

You snorted as he settled his head on your thighs. He glanced up at you, hands grasping your hips to pull your further down the couch. You smiled. “What are you doing?”

He pulled and pulled until your stomach was level with his head and then laid his cheek against you. This was simultaneously cute and awkward since he didn’t want to lay on your legs, so he draped them over his shoulders.

You scoffed. “Because I’m sure that’s comfortable for you.”

“It is,” he promised.

You ran your fingers through his hair lightly and he hummed.

“Keep doing that, please.”

“Mhm.” You loved when he let you baby him just a little. Usually, he wouldn’t dream of it. You needed to be doted on and spoiled, but there were times when he was tired or felt under the weather, and so he would let you do something for him.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, but it was with your fingers buried in his hair. You were both startled awake by the doorbell and the first thing you’d noticed was that the sun had gone down.

You had to complexly slip out from under him so he wouldn’t try running to the door before you.

“Hey,” he protested, voice thick and still sleepy.

You bent down before you dashed away just to kiss his cheek. “Stay.”

The clock along the way told you it was just 6, Massachusetts always got dark earlier in the year than any other place you had lived.

Your neighbor was returning some mail that had been placed in her mailbox and you did the same. It was well established and discussed amongst everyone that whoever was delivering mail was a menace that needed to go. There was a neighborhood petition going around that amused Andy to no end when you told him about it.

He’d asked when you were going to start being a neighborhood housewife. He made it no secret that if you didn’t want to work, you didn’t have to. It wasn’t that you hated your job, you actually loved it, but it was stressful sometimes because you were a perfectionist and, to some extent, a bit of an empath. That was why you got along with him so well. But that was also why you hated letting anyone down ever.

As you walked back to the kitchen counter, you thumbed through the letters in your hand.

“Am I going to have to suggest someone to Clara when she kills the mailman?”

“Stop enjoying this so much.”

“It’s hilarious,” he insisted. “I thought this stuff only really happened on sitcoms. Not that I had the best parental models to go off.”

You glanced over the mail, finding him still laid out on the couch, and tossed it onto the counter. None of it looked immediately pressing. You glanced at the clock. “Do you want me to make dinner?”

“I just ordered something. Lay with me until it gets here.”

You would blame the setting sun for him not noticing what you were wearing until you were back in the living room. He saw your legs first, then his eyes trailed up until they settled on the print of the huge sweatshirt you’d borrowed from his side of the closet.

Andy didn’t have school pride in the traditional sense. He wasn’t the person to go to all the football games or other events, but he had managed to build quite the collection of sweatshirts and T-shirts. He also liked to play with the idea that one day in the future, some of your children would spare his heart and stay home for college, possibly even attend the same place he had.

You had rolled your eyes at him and he’d accused your college of being a “party school”. You wouldn’t humor him with a defense…maybe, mostly, because he was right.

He placed his hand on your hip bone before you could slip back on the couch. “You take that from my closet?”

“No, I actually realized that I want to get my law degree, so I bought my own. I hope you understand, until I’m a lawyer, we can’t have kids—”

“Very funny,” he interjected as he pulled you on top of him. He settled you on his stomach, hands on your inner thighs where he rubbed circles with his thumbs.

You smirked. “But would you be mad at me?”

“No, of course not…but I would insist that you let me help you study every night so we could finish it as soon as possible—”

“Mm. Professor role play? I never would have guessed.”

“So, my wife is a fucking comedian tonight?”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I guess if you were in a tiny plaid skirt, I’d be whatever you wanted me to be.”

“Are you feeling better?” You brushed your fingers along his forehead.

“A little.”

“How much is a little?” you pressed. “Should I refrain from doing this?” You gave his hair just a minor tug. Really, just a little, gentle thing that he decided to blow up.

He snatched your hand out of his hair and bit your palm.

“Ow!” you scoffed. “Andy. I’m just trying to learn how my husband is feeling.”

He took your waist and pressed you back, until he could roll his hips and you would feel him against you. “You tell me. How do I feel?”

“Pulling hair makes you hard?” you teased.

He arched an eyebrow. “Pulling your hair, yes. You try that again and you won’t be able to walk right for a week.”

“Then what is it?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You know.”

“I know everything about you, you’re my husband. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear you say it.”

One hand slid from your hip up to your side until he reached your shoulder. He looked sweet and soft for a moment, but just as soon as he got his hand in your hair, that changed. He pulled your head back and bared your neck to him. “Seeing you in my clothes really does something to me.”

You were flushing just a bit, aware of how deeply he was staring at you. You didn’t wear Andy’s clothes often. Either it was so cold that you were bundled up in layers and layers or it was so hot that you were barely wearing anything. You also never anticipated that it would matter so much.

“Get up here.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I want you to sit on my face.”

“You want…where?” He wanted you to sit on his face? You weren’t completely surprised. Andy loved eating you out. He had done so within the first three weeks of your relationship, and hadn’t stopped since you let him start, but you were always lying down. Safely. On your back.

“Baby, sit on my face.”

“I don’t…I’ve never…”

“Yeah, I figured.” The first time he went down on you, he forced you to tell him all about your (very short) history of boyfriends and oral sex. Before him, there had been one. And a half. Of course, you’d never tried anything other than the most basic position.

“We should go upstairs and—”

“Nope. Right here.”

“Andy—”

He grabbed your hips and began moving you up.

“Wait—”

“You trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’ve got you.”

You weren’t completely sure what you were nervous about, you guys had just never done this. It was an utterly vulnerable position, so it rarely crossed your mind, but when Andy decided he wanted something...

Before you could protest further, he pulled your hips level with his face. You leaned over and caught the arm of the couch with both hands, keeping yourself hovering over him.

“Come on, baby, I know you’ll like it.”

There was never anything he’d done to you that you didn’t like. The last ounce of doubt you had disappeared as soon as he turned his head and kissed your thigh. You suddenly had the strongest desire to feel his beard against your cunt.

You pushed yourself up carefully, arms now at your sides.

His hands slid up your legs until he reached your ass. He yanked you down and wasted no time running his tongue down the length of your slit.

As you settled just a little, his beard began pricking at your skin. It always started out just barely tolerable, but after he’d make you orgasm, it was just another blissful sensation.

You were distantly aware of the uncomfortable position you were in. Your leg nearest the couch was bent at a weird angle, half buried in the couch, half pressed against Andy. He was clearly undeterred by that.

Like most things Andy enjoyed, he was in control. He had you as spread as he wanted you, deciding how much pressure he was going to give you. His hands on your ass dictated whether you could get away from him it became too much, and it would eventually.

He let the tip of his tongue explore you. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, but he also wanted to locate your favorite spots from this new angle. He knew you liked when he slowly slid his tongue up from your entrance to your clit, where he so gently lapped.

As soon as he started sucking, your hands disappeared in his hair. You needed something to hold onto and his hair kept you as close as possible to him. You glanced down for only a moment, unable to hold his intense stare. The way he looked at you, you would swear he had every intention of devouring you.

You let your head fall back, pulling him closer by his hair. He let go of your ass for a moment, encouraging you to sit down as much as you could. When he was satisfied, he locked his hands over your thighs so he could stop you from moving back.

He inhaled deeply, humming appreciatively as he licked you harder.

“Fuck, Andy.”

He hummed again, this time encouragement to keep talking. You moaned about how much you loved him, how good this felt. You didn’t even care that your absolute surrender was giving him future pull if he ever needed to talk you into something.

He took you to the highest peak you had ever reached and kept you there until he was satisfied. You didn’t mind as much as you usually did. He could tease you like it was his career and sometimes, it frustrated you beyond comprehension. This was different, different feelings and different sweet spots. Even the lightest touches were enough to make you whine and whimper for him.

He lifted you up just barley and said, “ride my face, baby.”

Any semblance of control you had was gone with those words. Your hips desperately moved over his lips, his tongue, his jaw, his beard in search of friction for your clit. You no longer worried about putting too much weight on him, you just needed to come.

You were surprised when he let you. You knew your husband and he loved dragging things out. You wouldn’t question him, however, because you didn’t have the mind to. All you knew how to do at that moment was grind your cunt against his mouth.

His beard was sticking your skin almost painfully, but you couldn’t bear the thought of pulling away. You could remember when you first met him, when he actually used to shave often. The only reason he started keeping it around was because you loved it. One of the immediate thoughts you’d had when you first saw it was how it would feel between your thighs, but he didn’t indulge you. He had made you beg for it and it was well worth it.

You were sensitive enough that with certain touches, your hips would buck but he didn’t seem to mind. He met those thrusts by angling his jaw up and rolling his tongue into you. The only sounds in the room were your moans and cries and his tongue trailing through your soaking pussy.

He moved like he was starving, like he was worried that you were going to pull away from him at any second. He was savoring every sound, every pull of his hair, every time you rose up and squeezed your thighs just a little.

You were shaking as he coaxed you to your second finish. That familiar winding sensation was building and you fucked yourself wildly against his open mouth, the only assistance he offered you was with his tongue.

You fell forward, narrowly catching yourself on the arm of the couch once more. Andy didn’t take that as his cue to be sweet or gentle. Instead, he held you tighter, his fingers digging into your ass and outer thigh. He focused his tongue solely on your clit and in seconds, you were coming hard.

But after, that was when he began to tease. He wanted you fucking his face, he wanted you to use him for your pleasure. From this position, you couldn’t do that, you couldn’t take anything, you could only receive. It was a wordless threat delivered by feather-light licks that left you wanting more. If you wanted anything tonight, you would have to get it yourself.

It took several tries to lift one arm and not collapse on top of him. Your body ached at the idea of being laid out underneath him, you couldn’t hold yourself up on your own, but you weren’t done with this yet. Your only option was to want more, that was the only pull he was going to give you. You were on top and in control to an extent, but the second you tried to pull away, he was going to drag you back down. You had nowhere to escape either, no way to shield yourself from him when he wanted to give you more.

When you were on your back, though it didn’t feel like it, you were in much more control. You could push him away, you had an entire mattress to make him chase you. This was all right here, on top of him, held exactly where he wanted you.

You reached back and pried his hand off your hip, lifting it to your waist. He didn’t wait for you to repeat the same with your opposite hand, he sat you up and held you there. You set your own hands on his stomach and he let you lean back just a little.

You watched him slowly run his tongue up and down your cunt, his lips leaving small kisses on your flesh, then sucking noisily at your clit. You watched every little thing he did until you couldn’t stop your hips from rocking against him once more.

Your third orgasm came and went, screaming his name, your head tossed back, your body moving on its own. He let you come down by neglecting your clit in favor of dipping his tongue inside you just enough that you could feel him but were still craving more.

He turned his head to kiss your thigh, turned to the other one to do the same. “Look at me, I want to see your face when you come.” And he continued those soft presses of his lips on both sides until you had situated yourself so he could see your face, your hands over his for more support.

You stared into his eyes the whole time. As he mercilessly sucked your clit, as he led you toward a finish that he wasn’t going to give you just yet, when he would let you come back down by just barely grazing you with his teeth, no tongue, no lips, just these delicate almost-bites on your soaking and sensitive flesh.

He loved seeing your expressions. The way your mouth would fall open when he found one of those really nice spots, the way you bit your lip when you thought you were being too loud, the pout that would settle whenever he didn’t give you the exact thing you wanted, the wrinkle in your forehead when you were frustrated and just wanted to come. But what he really wanted to see was your eyes filled with tears, your mouth open, blurting out unintelligible sounds, and he didn’t stop until that was the case.

When you finished, you were trembling, sobbing his name and many other pleas, once more clutching his hair to pull him as close to you as he could get. He lapped at your clit even after your hips would jerk back, until your eyes were rolling to the back of your head. He hungrily licked into you, desperate to have every last drop of you on his tongue.

You were mindless as he pulled you back over his chest, letting you comfortably settle against him as you came down. But that was the last thing you wanted when you saw how wet his face was, you were dripping down his chin and neck, all the way to the collar of his shirt.

Your hands greedily tore at his belt and pants and he didn’t once help you. Instead, he kept one hand over your ass, holding your aching cunt against his thigh just in case he thought you might need to come again.

You finally got your hand wrapped around his cock, pulling him out of his pants and boxers. You stroked him as you turned your head up and licked over his neck and jaw. You knew he was close when his hips started to move, impatient for your hand to make it all the way down to the base of his cock.

You draped one leg over him, pulling yourself over your arm. You were chest to chest, your hand still working him, your hips hovering just above your forearm, and now you could see his face. When he would say your name, it was soft, it was a sigh or a whisper, a plea to make him come.

“Are you close, baby?” you cooed.

He hummed, eyes shutting as he let out a shuddered breath.

You began nipping at his lips, his jaw, his cheeks. Your mouth brushed against his face when you spoke, “I loved fucking your face.”

“I could tell,” he assured, voice still holding power and control even though he was seconds away from spilling into your hand.

“Tomorrow morning...”

“Mhm,” he encouraged.

“I want you to take your tie and tie my hands behind my back.”

He nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“And then I’m going to get on my knees.”

“Okay,” he breathed, hands gripping whatever part of you was closest. Your ass and your free arm, you couldn’t wait to see the bruises in the morning.

“And I want you to grab my hair,” you flicked your tongue against his lips, he had them shut to silence any of those noises he was desperate to make. “And I’ll open my mouth wide, yeah?”

He nodded, brow furrowing. He was trying so hard to focus on what you were saying. “Yes.”

“And then I want you to bury your cock down my throat—”

“Fuck.” The hand touching your ass lifted and he pulled the bottom of his sweatshirt out of the way. You yelped, mostly in shock, when he spanked you.

You set your forehead against his temple, whispering, “And I want you to fuck my face before you leave for work.”

His hips stuttered. “Fuck, baby. Don’t stop—fuck!” Just as soon as his mouth fell open, you were kissing him. It was a filthy kiss even in the moment, even with your hand around his cock, even with his beard still wet from your pussy. It was tongue and teeth, moaning into one another’s mouth, sharing oxygen, hands grabbing each other violently.

You felt his cum on your ass first, cooling that spot that was still stinging from the contact of his palm. Then it was all over your hand as you continued pumping him until he was soft.

He finally opened his eyes, hazy and so beautifully, deeply blue. His eyebrow arched when you brought your hand up to your mouth and licked him off your fingers.

Before he could say anything, the doorbell rang. “Shit. I forgot I ordered food.” He slid out from under you, eyeing you as you still had your fingers in your mouth.

The sweatshirt had fallen back down, but he leaned over and pushed it out of his way. You shivered as you felt his tongue slowly licking his cum off your ass. He moved back to you, hand grasping your face, fingers pressing on your cheeks until you opened your mouth for him. He leaned in close and spit his cum on your tongue, and then went for the door without another word.

[woodchoc-magnum]

911:Lone Star 2x08 Hate Watch

Here we go, though I heard mixed reports that this episode was better than the OG's 4x08? So we'll see.

Diaz for strength:

And the hate is under the cut:

Things are almost instantly off to a bad start with TK as the very first person we see

Oh god SERIOUSLY WE'RE DOING THIS SOBER ANNIVERSARY FIRST FUCKING THING?

Like don't even ease us into it

We're just going right into the schmaltz INSTANTLY

"My parents got back together" oh TK you are in for a RUDE SHOCK MY MAN

No masks at this party

No social distancing

Pandemic, what pandemic?

Oh shit SHE'S MOVING OUT ALREADY

"We were right not to tell him" YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL HIM AT SOME POINT YOU ASSHOLES

Just when I think Rob Lowe can't be more of an asshole, there he goes, out-assholing himself

Oh do you guys call cash registers "tills" in America? I thought that was a British/Australian thing

Please let him blow up

Please let him blow up

Oh wait does Carlos have more than 30 seconds in this episode? WHAT'S GOING ON?

Damn he didn't blow up

Uh oh TK's come home to Lisa Edelstein moving out

RELAPSE?

Wait was she just gonna fucking LEAVE? WITHOUT TELLING HIM?

Oh TK you dumb fuck

God he can't act, he is such a bad actor

Everything is in a fucking monotone

It's a complicated question? Bitch you're pregnant with someone else's baby and you're also in love with that someone else

Oh shiiit TK you're so dumb

She came down to Texas, fucked Rob Lowe's brains out, rushed back into everything and now she's pregnant and fucking back off to New York – smooth move

Who is this mysterious Enzo? I would like to meet him

Ronen can't act. I know I keep saying it but he's like a robot.

Wow Carlos has been in SO MANY SCENES WHAT IS HAPPENING

Is his dad a cop? Did I know this?

I can't remember the name of the guy who plays Carlos but here's what I'm going to say – dude is about a million times better at acting than Ronen Rubenstein. There is actual EMOTION IN HIS VOICE AND ON HIS FACE

Is his dad a lawyer? What's the deal here?

I feel like this is a conflict? Should the dad be investigating the son? Oh he's a Texas RANGER

I still feel like it's a conflict, ngl

I'm bored

Dude's dad doesn't believe him and he's gonna be proven wrong isn't he

Wow this dad is almost worse than Owen, he has no faith in Carlos whatsoever

What a dick

Hey maybe you two should've just FUCKING TOLD YOUR SON THAT YOU WEREN'T GETTING BACK TOGETHER AND THAT IT WASN'T OWEN'S BABY, THE DUDE IS IN RECOVERY

And the lack of concern from Rob Lowe about his ONLY SON IS FUCKING STUNNING

Okay so my theory is that Rob Lowe allowed Carlos to have lines in this episode of the show provided that he was the one in the scene with him

Look at Owen actually trying to do the right thing here and not be selfish for once, amazing, we love to see it

What is with everyone in this show having terrible fathers

I'm bored AGAIN

"there should be a heart behind that shield" god give me a fucking break, you're nicer to Carlos than you are to your own son you dick

No masks anywhere at the scene, no masks on anyone at the fire

It's like they remembered about the pandemic for the scene at the bank and then forgot about it again for the rest of the show

Ooh is there going to be an EXPLOSION?

What is with me and things blowing up – look I watch this show with the understanding that bonkers things are going to happen and I'm a simple person who likes when things go boom, what can I say?

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM

Good explosion

Oh now daddy dearest knows that Carlos wasn't lying and he didn't fuck up

I bet he feels like a right fuckhead

I disagree with the assessment that this was better than 4x08 of the OG, at least the OG has people who can act – at the very fucking least

And no Rob Lowe

Oooh Carlos' dad is as cold as fucking ICE

Yeah Carlos you stand up for yourself, you're getting lines in this episode and I'm so happy for you

TK is such a whiny little bitch

His voice just grates on me, god he fucking sucks so much

OOOOH IT'S A TRAP

THEY'VE BEEN ENSNARED IN A SCHEME

That dude don't look so hot

God damn Nancy with the sick burns (her name is Nancy right?)

Oh TK leaving a CLUE what a smart little cookie, someone's been reading his Nancy Drew books hasn't he? (is that reference too old?)

"In American" BITCH

"we're not surgeons, we're paramedics" – he SAYS EVERYTHING IN A MONOTONE, there is no emotion in his voice AT ALL

Oh no Carlos is waiting for his man

Wait is Carlos going to save the day?!

No I bet Owen does, I will not get my hopes up

They're gonna perform surgery in a restaurant? I mean I suppose Hen and Chim could do it but I don't know about this bunch

Oh shit TK just knocked the FUCK OUT

It's about TIME

You know, if he actually relapsed because of these two assholes, they would totally fucking deserve it

Rob Lowe does not seem worried literally AT ALL

His son is missing and he's just like, okay cool

Oh wait he was playing it cool – okay fine, I retract my previous mean statement

I love that TK is just knocked the fuck out while the women do the work

Can I marry Gina Torres or is she already married or… what's the go there? Would she want an Australian wife with two cats?

These two dumb bank robbers really think this dude is going to live?

DO NOT STRANGLE GINA TORRES YOU MOTHER FUCKER

Oh shit the one nearly dead bank robber killed the other one

Carlos is going to find TK's special little clue and HE DID

What a good boyfriend

Good thing Rob Lowe has Carlos here, we can see who the brains are

Carlos is just out here solving mysteries, maybe HE'S the one who's been reading Nancy Drew (does anyone read Nancy Drew anymore?)

Ooh Carlos with the trusting of the gut YOU GO GIRL, go GET YO MAN

Though real talk you could do better

I mean ngl if this was Eddie storming in to rescue Buck I would be ALL OVER THIS, this shit is MY JAM but it's TK and Carlos so who fucking cares

OH SHIT HERE COMES GINA TORRES HERE WE FUCKING GO

OH YES NANCY

YES THE LADIES ARE SAVING THE FUCKING DAY

WAIT

ROB LOWE FIRED THE SHOT???? WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

HE IS A FIRE CAPTAIN

WHERE DID HE GET A GUN FROM?

I think Carlos' dad is flirting with Rob Lowe

Look at him standing up for Carlos

Oh and NOW the dad is being nice, okay

How the turn tables

This Strand family drama is the most boring fucking shit ever, I legit don't care

OH GOD

WHY ARE JUDD AND GRACE DRIVING IN THE RAIN

NO

NO

WHEN DID IT START RAINING LIKE THIS?

SHE WANTS BABIES JUDD

THEY'RE GONNA HAVE A BABY

NOOOOOOOOOOO

FOR FUCKING SERIOUS IS THIS SHOW FUCKING SERIOUS DO NOT BREAK MY HEART

Look obviously they’re going to be all right because they already killed Zombie Tim this season, but still. Not Judd and Grace, the two best characters on the show!

Okay, this episode was marginally better than other episodes but it still sucked, so I’m giving it... 4 out of ten. Honestly, it does lose points because Rob Lowe is the one who shot the dude? Like actually wtf?

BUT it must be in Rob Lowe’s contract that nobody gets to do anything cool in this show but him so it does make sense.

Really not gonna miss Lone Star the next few weeks, see you after the hiatus for more hate watching!

And Eddie Diaz to cleanse our hearts and minds: