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spngi · 7 months ago

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My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Part 8

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings:Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst, mentions of Charles and reader.

“And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years, and you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed look at how my tears ricochet”

I spend two weeks in a daily and torturous routine.

When I finally get home after the suffocating days in the field for that damn wedding I look for the envelope that had previously been very well hidden.

I lock myself in my painting room, I leave a drink next door as a friend and an old vinyl playing, the first time I opened that envelope I needed to take my time, consider if that’s really what I wanted, things seemed to be going better after all...

When I’m finally sure I want it, I open it and read it, Carlos was right, he had been as fair as possible when putting together the papers. He provided me with a good amount of money that would give me a comfortable life, I would have an apartment, I could stay with the country house and a car, I would have access to his lawyer whenever I needed and a phone available 24 hours in case of any emergency.

I signed those damn papers in that first day, and honestly it was the easiest part of all this, I lacked the strength now to continue on this journey.

For two weeks I tortured myself looking at these papers, looking at my signature there, and when I wasn’t looking I kept remembering him. I remembered him even after my daily race with paco, or when I lay in bed now with Carlos back by my side, at dinner time or when Carlos presents me with a new armored car.

My routines bother me because I know they will no longer be a routine for me after I get divorced, the new car does not cheer me up because it won’t even be mine, and if I really were to ask for something it wouldn’t be a car, nor an object or jewelry.

When the 16th day arrives to face the document whose words I already know by heart I know that I really have to do something for myself, I have to be strong and continue with it, I have to start my life from scratch.

I was afraid that this time it was Carlos who would deny himself, that he would make me stay and I know I would, because I loved him despite everything. And I needed to love myself a little more, so I needed to put myself first this time and I knew I would need to make this irreversible both for me and so much for him.

That’s why I give lando time off and take the opportunity to go out alone in the late afternoon knowing that Carlos could not come back so soon because he had problems at work, I drive nervously through the streets of Madrid, in the new green Aston Martin until I found the building I was looking for.

I didn’t allow myself to drink a sip of alcohol or at least smoke a cigarette, an old teenage habit that seemed to be coming back in the last few days, I needed to do it sober and without excuses.

I look at myself in the rearview mirror and get out of the car before I start thinking too much, the delicate white miu miu dress adorning my body and the noise of the heels hitting the stairs of the building distract me, and when I finally get to the door of the one who was going after it I give me some time to breathe, I needed to do this.

Maybe I would never forgive myself with what I was going to do from the moment I knocked on that door but it was necessary, because that way Carlos wouldn’t forgive me either.

I fix my hair properly brushed and falling on my shoulder, smooth the fabric of the midi dress and grab my bag tightly as if it were my saving boat.

I don’t need more than two knocks on the door to be received, my perfume mixing with the owner of the apartment in the hallway with the simple gesture of opening a door, I smile no nervous this time.

“Y/n” Charles exclaims surprised to see me, he looks at my figure in front of him as if it were something mythological and I know I made the right choice when choosing to come right here. “Please enter, did something happen? Do you need anything?”

“Thank you” I thank him, crossing the door, entering his privacy. I try not to feel guilty about what I’m going to do to him, for taking advantage of the way I saw his eyes sneaking to me several times and how he has always been kind to me. “Actually, yes...”

He is enchanted by my smile, too lost in me and I feel like a mermaid enchanting him. He would never know but it would be thanks to him, Charles Leclerc, that I would finally get my exit card, and it would no longer be Mrs. Sainz. I let the bag fall on the table, a programmed gesture, showing the lack of a ring in the left hand, the same ring I had left at home before leaving.

I approach him, all the gestures very well thought out, very well articulated and I observe how darker the green iris of the man in front of me get.

“I need your help...” I sigh, giving time until my next sentence, I lay my hand on his chest and I feel strange. “With something very intimate actually”

It’s strange to be so close to another man who wasn’t my husband, it’s strange for me to wear this skin as if I were the most seductive woman in the world when I was shaking underneath, afraid of this crazy idea going wrong, afraid of being rejected and becoming a joke. The man in front of me still seems in a trance, and I understand why he is so astonished, it is not every day that his boss’s wife knocks on your door begging you to fuck her. Although he still didn’t know the last part.

I take advantage of his shock and continue with the initiative in hand, I lower the zipper of the dress and let it fall on the floor in a dry thum, I stay there in front of him, exposed in only burgundy color heels and the delicate white lace panties.

“Y/n” Charles whispers in shock, his eyes taking detail from every piece of my naked body in front of him, his muscular arms not knowing how to behave. “You?”

“Don’t make me beg for you, Charlie,” I whisper, and I feel like the most daring woman in the world. “Don’t make me regret giving you this chance...”

He doesn’t make me regret it, he’s quick to take an initiative, he’s quick to take action, hands exploring my body and taking his time, taking advantage of the moment and afraid that maybe I would disappear in front of him like magic. He kisses me as if he was waiting for it all his life and when he kneels in front of me he looks at me as if he were greeting a goddess, this image of him constrating with the rigidity he wore on a daily basis, the delicacy with which his callous hands touched me, the bipolar way his eyes face me - full of desire, ferocity and passion and at the same time looking like a child in the candy store.

He is careful and leaves no marks on my skin, although I believed he would like it. I don’t need to remind him that no one could ever know this while he helps me get dressed, he knows he would be a dead man if Carlos found out.

And besides the fact that I actually used him tonight, I know that none of us regretted what happened when I walked through the door of his apartment and went back to the future no longer my house.

I take advantage of the last hours in that house to say goodbye, I look at all the rooms and remember the good things I lived there, I observe all the corners and windows, all the paintings and tapestries.

The things I most esteemed in that house had already left earlier, going to a hotel in the city next door, I did not take gifts or jewelry, nor the expensive and exuberant clothes, I needed to start from scratch with just a few sentimental things, good and lived memories of an old joy that I lived in this place along with the small paco that would gain a new home with me.

I observe the papers in my hand and the wedding ring I hold, not daring to use it since the night before. In one last breath I enter Carlos’ office, he smiles when he sees me, when he sees me tidy - the mark of the last chapter that I would do it only for him.

“Is everything okay, love?” He asks, noticing my restless figure entering the room.

“Yes,” I answer firmly, everything was fine and everything was going to be right. I put the papers in front of him, the ring landing on top subtly and watch as his face frowns in doubt.

“What....” He looks at me in doubt, doesn’t understand what I’m doing, and I wonder if when he proposed the same thing to me some time ago how I reacted. “You didn’t want a divorce, I thought we were fine? What’s going on, y/n?”

“You were right, Carlos.... We haven’t been well for a long time, we’re just pretending that nothing happened,” I answer him.

“I love you” he speaks, voice rising a tone in despair.

“I love you too, Carlos” I sigh, not imagining that this conversation would be so difficult, after all he proposed this to me for the beginning of the conversation. “But we can’t go on like this anymore, we don’t respect each other anymore... it doesn’t work anymore”

“I thought you wanted to forget everything, we could try again from scratch, we can try couple therapy or whatever you want, y/n”

“We can’t, Carlos. And I don’t think even you could...” I murmur.

“What do you mean?”

“I betray you, Carlos” those words look like knives entering him, the pain in his eyes, the posture falling more and more, he looks at me hoping it was just another joke. “As I said before, we don’t respect each other anymore...”

I take advantage of his silence to keep talking, I didn’t want to leave like that, just letting him know that I had disrespected our marriage the same way he did, I wanted to end everything in good memories even though we were already too far from it.

“I want you to know that I don’t regret anything I lived with you, and if I had the opportunity I would do it all over again.” I sigh, his eyes stare at me foggy “I just regret letting things go so far between us, you were right when you said we needed to have finished with everything before, it would have spared us a lot of bad things. I would save myself to remember you with so many bad memories, but I know we had a lot of good memories during our wedding to remember.”

“Y/n... please” he begs, I see a tear come out in the corner of his eyes and I don’t know what he’s begging for, I wipe away the little tears that also run down my face.

“Think of it as a good story, carlos... with some cuts at the end” I try to laugh “ we were a good couple while it lasted, carlos. And I’m honored to know that I had the chance to be yours Mrs. Sainz.”

I approach his body sitting, let myself evaluate his features one last time, observe his brown eyes, his dark hair falling in waves down his face, the way his brown skin is hot even in the slight distance.

“I’ll be waiting for the lawyer to call,” I tell him, the last farewell before turning around and leaving.

I don’t take my time to leave, I had already said goodbye to this house, I didn’t need memories of it the moment I was leaving. I meet lando at the exit, paco in his arms and waiting for myself leaning in the car I was taking with me.

“It was good to meet you, lando” I smile and hug the boy in front of me.

“It was good to be your friend, y/n.” He returns the hug and then looks at me “don’t become a stranger, we can still be friends”

“I’ll keep in touch, I promise” I smile at him “you have a huge future at hand, lando. Believe in me”

I smile, I don’t let myself look at the house behind me, I get in the car and see the companion of my new life through the rearview mirror sitting on his dog support. That was it, I managed to finish this chapter of my life, it wouldn’t be easy but I took the bravest step of my life, and I was free.

I watch the images repeat themselves on television in front of me, the words of the reporter have long in silence in my head, only the scenes repeating themselves in infinite looping.

It had been a month since I had left home and had not received any news about the divorce or Carlos.

Until that moment.

The TV shows images of him, handcuffed hands, face down and the police taking him. The scene leaves me in shock, I don’t know how long I stay in front of the TV watching and understanding what happened, but when I finally come back to me I pick up the phone and call Lando.

The connection is short and full of codes, all afflicted with any threat of also being caught by the police, which forces me to make the 2-hour trip by car to Madrid again. The path is disturbing and I don’t know what to expect, the police had already hit our old house several times, Carlos had already been arrested, staying a day or two until they couldn’t prove anything against him, I myself had already been stuck at the police station for one night while the police waited for me to let anything escape. This time it looked different, apart from the tension evident in the call I had with lando, there were newspapers and reporters, and I remember very well the caption on the screen talking about years in prison.

When I get to the house I left in the last month nothing seems to have changed, except the whirlwind of men running through every corner as in a war, which in this case seemed to be against justice. Lando seems to wait for me when I enter, I expected there to be some restriction on my presence but no one says anything, maybe not yet used to my absence, the house remains practically the same as my gaze while I let myself go up the stairs to the office that was Carlos’s, Charles is inside and when we enter he hangs up the phone.

“I was talking to the lawyer” he sighs, scratches his head and then smiles at me “it’s good to see you, y/n”

“I figured I would need to come and get the protocol if the police knocks on my door” I say, I sit in the chair for visits and wait for the right arm of the sainz family to pass the news.

“The news is not good...” he murmurs “carlos was caught and this time the police had evidence, we are talking about 5 to 10 years in prison according to his lawyer, and this is not the worst part yet...”

“Where do you mean, Charles?” I ask, the anxiety taking over me, making the white silk pants pinch on my body.

“Carlos never went to court with the divorce application” he scores the words by taking the document and showing me, only my signature there. “What keeps you both married, you don’t have to depose against him if you don’t enter the protocol...” he sighs and looks at lando as if he didn’t know how to follow from that information.

“And there’s the business part...” lando starts talking, sits next to me “the other families are afraid after prison, and they will prefer to negotiate with a face they already know”

“What you mean is that I should tear these documents and pretend I’m still married to Carlos?” I ask when interrupting the thought of the two, understanding where the conversation came from.

“Carlos’ own father gave this idea, you know that he does not intend to return from retirement... and he trusts you to manage it” the leclerc speaks, the figure tense with the whole situation and standing in front of me contrasting with the one I had the opportunity to be weeks ago.

“That’s a lot” I murmur, tilt my head back and close my eyes, pondering the turn my life was taking.

“We know, and Charles would still be here as a right-hand man to help, you would have everyone’s support if you want to stay, y/n! But we also understand if you just want to go, I know you were trying to leave all this behind” lando says, his words touching me gently.

“It seems that this life never lets us move forward, doesn’t it?” I ask a rhetorical question, I get up and cross the table, I watch Carlos’ chair that I sat so many times playing.

It’s a risky decision, it’s a decision for a lifetime, I was trying to start from scratch, have a new life and move on. But maybe that was it. I had moved on without Carlos, I could move on taking his place, without him in my life, maybe that was what the future was waiting for me. I sit slowly in his chair, I take my time feeling the feeling of being there, of what it means to sit there.

“Do I need to know anything else before tearing these papers?” I ask the men in front of me.

“You won’t like this part” Charles says and I wait for him to continue “as you are married, let’s say you are entitled to an… intimate visit”

I watch him speak, his hand scratching the back of his neck and I interrupt his discomfort.

“A visit that is not recorded or supervised... carlos explained to me a few times about it”

“It’s just in case you need to inform something that the police should not know and if you feel uncomfortable about it we will find another way” he is quick to explain himself.

“I can take it, Charles. Don’t worry”

“They’re going to do a complete review, y/n. It won’t be comfortable for you and honestly I’m not comfortable of having to use this method with you to talk to Carlos, but let’s find a way along the way for you to avoid it, okay?” It is comforting to listen to the words of the leclerc, to realize the care with the choices of word and the care with the situation that I will be exposed to, worrying about my well-being.

“Thank you, Charles. I need you to keep me updated about the whole situation and I also need your help so that business continues to happen” I smile weakly at them, take the papers in front of me and tear them “it seems that the sainz family finally won a female leader”

Charles was right when he said that it would not be easy for me to make that kind of visit, at all times I felt uncomfortable, although the worst part had been seeing Carlos again. It was horrible to see him in that situation, in a dimly lit cell, in an inmate uniform. He seems surprised to see me, but he doesn’t smile or at least say something, his head is quick to understand the whole situation and he knows at that moment we are talking on an equal footing.

Not as husband and wife, but from boss to boss.

He understands that today his life inside this prison and his future depend solely on me now.

The conversation is tense although the two understand that they need to leave inequalities aside at this moment, we need to be adults and talk about business and not about our problems. Nothing could make this conversation as comfortable as possible, not even if I eliminated the part of the body review or the wet cell we were in.

It’s libertating when I can finally get out of that prison, when I can go back home and stay away from that situation, Charles was right and would need to find another way to communicate with Carlos.

When I get home stunned and urgently in need of a bath, a strange sight in my living room makes me stop and observe the abnormal object in front of me, nailed to the wall that before was empty.

Madame Monet and her son face me, the painting on the wall of my living room where it definitely shouldn’t be, I paralyze looking at the painting that I admired, which should be in the United States on the other side of the ocean.

“You were right, it’s a beautiful painting” the soft voice of charles resonates behind me, taking me out of the trance I was in.

“This really is the ...” I don’t have the courage to finish the question, still in shock, with the painting in front of me and with the action of the man next to me.

“Yes” he says, body next to me admiring the Monet in front of us.

“I didn’t know we were involved in the theft of works of art now,” I murmur in disbelief.

“We can say that he wasn’t really at the museum...” he smiled “you said it would be a dream to be able to see him every day... I thought it would be a good welcome gift for you”

“I really have no words to thank, Charles” I smile at him, my face moved. I didn’t know how to thank him for his gesture, not because it was great on his part but because it was emotional and important to me, I also didn’t know how to thank him for what he gave me without even knowing, the freedom I gained. “Thank you very much”

“You deserve... much more than that, much more than you imagine”

“I don’t want to go back there anymore, Charles.” I sigh tired, defeated.

“So you won’t...” he replies calmly “you order it here now, y/n. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, your voice is the rule now”

These words make me alert of my position now, make me aware of where I am now and what I am now.

Although I had never even imagined becoming what I am now, I could not imagine myself doing anything other than that.

“Yes,” I smile at the leclerc next to me, “it’s good to know that”

A year ago things were very different, now everything changed. I had accused Carlos of having contaminated me with his business but maybe I just liked the way things were and let his darkness make me like him. There were many things that I stopped being and many things that I became on this journey.

And I wouldn’t have done anything different.

We have reached the end of a journey! Thank you very much for all the comments and affection you left along the way! ❤️❤️❤️

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #cs55 #cs55 x reader #angst #carlos sainz au #f1 fic #máfia!carlos sainz #mob!carlos sainz #mafia!f1

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kittykattropicanna · 1 year ago

Note

would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.

Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!!

Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3 I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3

TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…

I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone.

One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends.

It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.

This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage.

He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly.

The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..

Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well.

He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be.

He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence.

Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment.

These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour.

It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt.

But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?

I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?

Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”

You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful.

First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary….

But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do.

Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!

Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.

They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like.

You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up.

Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load.

Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen

After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you

Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost Age: 36 Joined: December 26th, 2021 Letters Received: 0 Time served: 3 and a half years Sentence ends: Year and a half Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak.

Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android.

Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out.

Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him…..

So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..

I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(

Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter.

When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed.

But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”

I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key.

Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man.

But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)

After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter.

“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”

His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle!

You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…

Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :(

When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(

“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)”

And of course you did!! He asked so politely!

Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((

You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(

You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body.

After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for

Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible.

Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least

When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((

Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:(

His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you

He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((

You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3

Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(

He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(

That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.

Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise.

You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!

Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(

Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real

His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….

He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….

In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(

Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

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vindicated-truth · 1 month ago

Text

“Noona!”

The sound of sneakers squeaking on the floor fills the eerily quiet corridor of the hospital as Jihoon skids to a halt in front of his sister.

He takes one look at the somber faces looking up at him, and immediately feels his body break out in a cold sweat as his stomach plummets. “Noona…?”

He hears how his own voice sounds small and shaky—not unlike the time when he was just a kid and he had just found out that he would be living with his big sister now as his legal guardian.

“He’s currently undergoing surgery,” Jihwa answers Jihoon’s unspoken question as she runs a hand distractedly through her hair, and Jihoon’s heart twists at how exhausted his sister sounds, not unlike all those nights she’d come home late from pulling double shifts to support them both because their mother had a new family.

The relief that instantly courses through Jihoon makes his body sag weakly as he falls onto the nearest seat, followed by the immediate dread that they’re not out of the woods just yet. “What happened?”

“Car accident,” Hyeok speaks up from beside him, and Jihoon can’t help but marvel at how calm the prosecutor sounds. Lawyers’ nerves must be made of steel, Jihoon muses.

He furrows his brows as the words sink in. “But…” Jihoon says slowly, “he always drives safely.”

“Yes. He does.” This time, Jihoon can detect the grim bitterness of Hyeok’s tone. “He wasn’t the problem.”

The seat across the hallway creaks as Jihwa flops down on it with a heavy sigh. “Drunk truck driver beating the red light crashed onto him at a crossroad. The other driver is also currently undergoing surgery at another operating room, and Dosoo-ya is conferring with the medical team there regarding the DUI case.”

“DUI…”

Jihoon trails off as his gaze finally lands on the lone man slumped over at the other end of the corridor. The fluorescent light directly above is flickering, casting the despondent figure in shadow.

“Dongsik-hyung…” Jihoon trembles. “Why are you here?”

He feels both Hyeok’s and Jihwa’s gazes turn to him in silent, outraged disbelief, and Jihoon swifty shakes his head.

“Why are you here—” Jihoon whispers as he gestures at the bleak corridor they’re all stuck in, “—and not in there with Joowon-hyung?”

He feels a hand on his knee, and his gaze snaps to his sister, who has reached across the hallway to touch him tenderly.

“Inspector Han is in critical care,” Jihwa tells him softly. “Strictly family only.”

Jihoon opens his mouth.

“And to answer your question, Jihoon-ah…”

The words die on Jihoon’s lips as Dongsik finally raises his head to meet Jihoon’s eyes.

Dongsik has never looked so—lifeless, like this.

Not since Yuyeon was finally cremated.

“According to the law, I am not family.”

A thunk beside Jihoon makes him jump, and he looks over to see the back of Hyeok’s head hitting the wall as Hyeok stares balefully at the ceiling, chuckling bitterly.

“And neither am I.”

—

The beeping pattern that has lulled her into a fitful sleep suddenly changes, and the sound breaks through the haze of her semi-consciousness.

Blearily, Jaeyi uncurls herself from the tiny sofa bed to peer at the monitors—and then at the patient to whom all of it is attached.

The drowsiness instantly disappears. “Inspector Han!” she gasps as she throws away the blanket draped over her legs and sways a bit on her feet from the dizziness of standing up too quickly. “You’re awake!”

Her instinct to go to him is immediately overridden by the memory of the nurses’ strict reminder to contact them as soon as the patient regains consciousness, and Jaeyi quickly reaches for the call button.

The fingers that curl around her wrist are weak, but insistent.

“Wait,” Joowon rasps, voice hoarse from being previously intubated during surgery. “Not yet.”

The herculean effort to speak seems to already drain so much out of Joowon that it makes Jaeyi relent. Instead, she pulls out a chair to sit close by his bedside. “How are you feeling?” she gently inquires, trying her best to mask her worry.

Joowon lolls his head to the side to look at her with a swollen face full of bruises and stitches, and manages to offer a small smile. “Like I was just crushed by a giant truck.”

Jaeyi smiles back tremblingly despite herself. “Your doctors don’t have to worry about psychological damage to your brain, considering your sense of humor remains the same.”

“Hilarious?”

“Non-existent.”

A soft gust of breath escapes Joowon’s lips before the laughter is quickly smothered by a grimace of pain. Jaeyi bites her lip anxiously. “Should I be calling the nurses now?”

“No,” Joowon repeats firmly, and Jaeyi is a little taken aback at how vehement he sounds. Joowon must have registered her surprise because he then quietly, shamefully confesses: “I don’t like being around medical professionals.”

Jaeyi’s eyebrows rise dubiously, but she holds her tongue, respectfully—smartly—waiting.

Eventually, Joowon takes a deep breath and, as if the admission pains him, closes his eyes as he explains:

“They were often at our house when I was a child. Their presence meant my mother has once again attempted to kill herself.”

Jaeyi doesn’t know if Joowon is keeping his eyes firmly shut for his benefit, or for hers. Either way, she is immensely grateful for it, because Joowon doesn’t need to see the cold waves of shock, rage, shared grief and unwanted pity that slams over her in quick succession, the vicious intensity knocking the breath out of her lungs.

Right now, Joowon needs her to be strong—so she will be.

“Would you like me to call someone else then?” she instead gently suggests. “Prosecutor Kwon has been waiting to hear from you.”

She pauses, letting the weight of her next words hold meaning as she softly adds: “And so is ahjussi.”

Joowon’s eyes flutter open.

And it takes Jaeyi’s breath away, the way Joowon’s entire countenance changes. His features soften, brows crinkling with concern, as he once again turns to her and worriedly asks:

“Has he eaten?”

And it says so much about how far Joowon has come in opening up his heart, because he now completely understands—and fluently speaks—the love language of Lee Dongsik.

She swallows against the lump that suddenly forms in her throat—and lies.

“Yes.”

—

“Ahjussi...”

“Jaeyi-ya? Why are you crying?”

“Ahjussi… I’m on my way to the hospital right now… please… you have to come…”

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“It’s—It’s Inspector Han.”

“… What? You—how—”

“I don’t know why, ahjussi, and I found out just now when the hospital called my number unexpectedly, but—Inspector Han listed me as his emergency contact.”

—

Not for the first time, Hyeok wonders how he somehow always finds himself sharing a table with all of these strange people.

It hasn’t been that long ago when they were all mere strangers to him—just another list of names in his ever-growing pile of case files.

Now, however…

Jaeyi arrives with a tray laden with so much food that it makes Hyeok’s eyes widen at how heavy it all looks. He scrambles to his feet and tries to help, but Jaeyi merely shoos him away, leaving him standing there awkwardly as she begins doling out the soup bowls.

“I can’t keep lying to Inspector Han,” Jaeyi proclaims resolutely, “so you all better eat.”

Dosoo peers at the huge serving bowl Jaeyi is ladling from. “Your budae jjigae looks much more appetizing than this, Jaeyi-ah.” He wrinkles his nose. “Smells much better too.”

“And no doubt tastes better too,” Jaeyi smoothly adds, which makes everyone at the table crack a smile for the first time in a long while. “But this is all the hospital cafeteria has to offer, and we have to eat this in honor of Inspector Han.”

Hyeok blinks. In honor of—

“It’s Joowon-hyung’s favorite,” Jihoon says softly when he sees Hyeok’s visible confusion. His voice is a little warbled, his eyes still red and puffy, shoulders trembling as he tries to stifle his silent sobs.

Tightly cradled in Jihoon’s hands is a letter envelope he’s clutching preciously close to his heart.

The sound of stainless steel scraping over wood pulls Hyeok’s attention, and he finds himself staring at a bowl of steaming budae jjigae that has been pushed towards him.

He looks up—and Dongsik smiles warmly at him.

“Eat, Prosecutor Kwon. Joowon-ie would have all of our heads if he finds out we’ve been starving you.”

No, he wouldn’t. He never used to care about whether or not I eat.

The bitter thought comes to him unbidden, and the sting of it makes his throat tighten.

He slowly returns to his seat as everyone at the table digs in, hunger finally overtaking worry and fatigue as the need to replenish their energy makes itself known if they are to continue their vigil.

It’s going to be a long night ahead for all of them.

Hyeok stares at the bowl in front of him as he cycles through his haphazard thoughts, desperately trying to reconcile what everyone else is telling him with what he knows.

Han Joowon hates any food with broth. He hates Korean food. He hates anything that has to do with Korea, because he has always hated coming back here.

Because all of it reminded him of his father.

When did all of that change? Do I even know him at this point?

Who even am I to Han Joowon?

“Don’t take it against him.”

Hyeok nearly leaps out of his skin—since when does Lee Dongsik have the power to read minds?

There’s a knowing glint in the other man’s eyes as Dongsik smirks at him. “And don’t take it against her either,” Dongsik adds as he juts his chin towards Jaeyi, who looks startled at being singled out. “You know why Joowon-ie couldn’t have made you his emergency contact, Prosecutor Kwon.”

No, he thinks sourly, I don’t.

The table falls silent as Dongsik continues to slurp and chew with gusto, oblivious to the sudden tension in the air. Unable to take it anymore, Jihwa lets out an exasperated sigh and Dongsik jumps beside her.

Hyeok’s mouth quirks despite himself; Jihwa appears to have kicked Dongsik under the table.

“What?” Dongsik grumbles as Jihwa tilts her head meaningfully towards Hyeok. “He knows he once worked for Han Kihwan, that’s why Joowon-ie is publicly distancing himself from Prosecutor Kwon.”

Chills run down Hyeok’s spine. Whatever he’s been expecting, it isn’t this.

Slapping him across the face would have hurt far less.

“Ahjussi,” Jaeyi says softly. “You should word that better.”

Dongsik looks up from his bowl and finally realizes all eyes are on him. He swallows the mouthful he’s been chewing and eventually fixates his gaze on Hyeok.

Beneath the table, Hyeok’s tightly balled fists are shaking.

Dongsik puts his chopsticks down.

“Emergency contact records are private data that can only be accessed in crises situations by healthcare providers or by authorized representatives. And that includes family.”

Dongsik pauses to let the weight of his next words sink in.

“Han Joowon’s actual family.”

Dongsik spits the word out like vile poison—and the realization slams upon Hyeok.

“The public records of you consistently meeting with Han Kihwan were plenty. Aside from the official logs at his office and the traceable calls and messages on both your phones, there were a significant number of CCTV cameras proving you had been meeting with him even well beyond office doors and office hours. You had even been spotted several times at the Han residence.”

Hyeok’s blood runs cold—because he suddenly, truly understands.

He does know Han Joowon. Far, far too well.

“Han Kihwan is currently undergoing appeals to lighten his sentence,” Dongsik is saying. “And one of the ways he can do that—“

“—is if he can prove he has an accomplice,” Hyeok finishes quietly.

Their table has become a silent, unwitting audience to the tense stalemate between them. The rigid set of Dongsik’s shoulders suddenly sags, and Hyeok knows, with a pang in his chest, that the hell on earth brought upon by Han Kihwan is still burning.

And at the center of the pyre—are Han Joowon and Lee Dongsik.

“Han Kihwan knows he can’t beat you, Prosecutor Kwon.” Hyeok’s gaze is arrested by the way Dongsik reaches for his water glass and lets out a humorless chuckle. “Nor can he defeat the son that you raised. He knows far too well that you are both far too smart for him. So instead, he’ll do the next best thing.”

Dongsik takes a swig from the glass, wipes his mouth with back of his hand, and slams the glass back down on the table, spilling water everywhere.

“Han Kihwan is going to bring you down with him, Prosecutor Kwon.”

There’s a reason, Hyeok abruptly realizes with terrified awe, why Lee Dongsik is Han Joowon’s chosen partner. Why Lee Dongsik has never feared the pyre Han Kihwan has lit.

“And Han Joowon will never let that happen.”

Those are the eyes of a lunatic who will follow Han Joowon straight into hell.

—

“Can I see him?”

“Name, please?”

“Lee Dongsik.”

“Relation to the patient?”

“I’m his partner.”

“… Han Joowon-nim’s business partner?”

“His partner. He’s listed as my dependent on my medical insurance.”

“… I’m sorry Lee Dongsik-nim, but unless you’re listed as Han Joowon-nim’s emergency contact, the hospital cannot let you inside critical care because the NHIS doesn’t recognize your claim.”

“The fuck am I letting you stop me from—”

“It’s alright, nurse, I’ll take it from here.”

“Get your hands off me, Prosecutor Kwon! I have every right to—!”

“She’s right, Lee Dongsik-ssi. According to the law, you are not Joowon’s family.”

—

Gwangyoung pulls a grimace as soon as he takes a sip from the styrofoam cup. “Coffee from vending machines always tastes terrible.”

Ohsub rolls his eyes. “Seoul has made you even more pretentious, Senior Inspector Hwang.”

“Caffeine is still caffeine,” Dosoo says tiredly as he drinks from his own cup. “God knows we all need it right now.”

Jihwa silently agrees as she feels the night’s exhaustion seeping through her bones. She turns to Seonnyeo and musters up the strength to offer her a small smile. “How’s Huimangie?”

“I dropped her off at my parents’ place before coming here.” Seonnyeo returns the smile, and once again Jihwa marvels at the calm and comfort Seonnyeo radiates; there’s no one else more suited to motherhood. “Dosoo-ya will pick her up tomorrow since his shift at work is later than mine.”

Jihwa’s features soften. “You didn’t need to come tonight.”

Seonnyeo’s own gaze is kind but firm. “I wanted to.”

“And we needed her expertise,” Dosoo pipes up, a note of pride in his voice as he beams at his wife.

“So,” Ohsub leans forward in his seat, and all the police officers gathered around the hospital vending machine instantly snap to attention. “What do we know so far?”

Seonnyeo flips through the case file in her hand and begins to explain. “According to the records of the company he’s working for, the truck driver had been going through his usual route at his usual delivery time, so there was nothing out of the ordinary in his routine tonight.”

“Except for the fact that his medical records reveal that his blood alcohol concentration was at 0.306% at the time of the collision,” Dosoo remarks dryly.

Gwangyoung whistles lowly. “That’s the highest ever recorded number for a DUI case in history. Even if he survives tonight’s surgery—”

“Gwangyoung-ah,” Jihwa warns.

“I’m just saying,” Gwangyoung raises his hands in appeasement. “After he recovers, he’ll definitely be going to jail.”

“There’s something strange about the truck driver though,” Seonnyeo murmurs, lost in thought as she peruses the case file; Jihwa has to prompt her gently with a hand on her arm to encourage her to share her theories.

“A BAC of 0.250 to 0.399% is a dangerously high level of intoxication. It can already cause alcohol poisoning and even loss of consciousness.”

She turns to her husband. “We’re going to need to access the truck’s dashboard camera to be sure, but with this level of BAC, it’s entirely possible that the driver actually fell asleep at the wheel.”

“Which explains why he didn’t stop at the red light,” Dosoo affirms.

“Doesn’t really help his case,” Gwangyoung mutters, “although the defense can lobby that at least he didn’t purposely beat the red light.”

Seonnyeo bites her lip.

Ohsub sees her obvious hesitance and sighs. “Just say it, Officer Im.”

Instead, Seonnyeo turns to Jihwa and wordlessly hands over the case file to her.

Jihwa skims through the company records. “The truck driver has been consistent in his routine,” she comments. “No previous records of any road violations whatsoever.”

“Exactly,” Seonnyeo’s relief shows on her face when Jihwa confirms her observations. “If he knew he had a delivery route to go through tonight, why would he purposely get himself drunk before his shift?”

“Not just simply drunk,” Dosoo grumbles. “It’s like he ingested a whole liquor store with that amount of alcohol in his system.”

“It’s almost suicidal.”

Everyone turns to Jihwa at her somber words.

“But if he wanted to kill himself,” she says quietly as she sees the alarming BAC numbers for herself, “why would he go through such a roundabout way of doing it…”

She looks up and catches Ohsub’s penetrating gaze.

“… through crashing into another vehicle?”

Ohsub’s eyes narrow. “Inspector Oh—are you suggesting foul play?”

Jihwa shakes her head slowly. “There’s not enough evidence.” Not yet. “But if it is, then…”

She turns to her partner, and it’s a testament to how long and how well they work together that Dosoo’s face immediately clears as the realization hits him at the same time.

“… it falls to our jurisdiction,” Jihwa concludes quietly.

A tense silence abruptly settles in the air.

“A case for the Violent Crimes Unit,” Dosoo confirms grimly, “for attempted murder.”

—

“Remember that highly controversial case that no one else is taking?”

“… You’re seriously calling me in the middle of the night to talk about this?”

“I’m taking it.”

“Why—you—first of all, they can’t afford you.”

“I’m taking it pro bono.”

“You’re—Prosecutor Kwon, you do realize what this will mean for your career?”

“Yes. I absolutely do.”

“This is career suicide.”

“Good. I’m ready to be reborn.”

“… What are you saying?”

“Tell the client I’m ready to meet them.”

“It’s the middle of the god damned night!”

“Wake them.”

—

Jaeyi blinks when she returns to the table she has just cleared and sees it devoid of its previous occupants—save for one.

“Where did everyone go?”

“Prosecutor Kwon went outside to take a business call.” Jihwa runs a hand through her hair distractedly as she offers Jaeyi a reassuring smile. “I think I saw Dongsik-ie following him.”

She steps closer as Jaeyi takes some paper towels and begins wiping down the table, much to Jihwa’s amusement; Jaeyi doesn’t really have to since this isn’t her restaurant, but Jihwa supposes habits are hard to break, and Jaeyi will always have a butcher shop owner’s penchant for sanitation.

“Everyone else hurried to Inspector Han’s room,” Jihwa adds as she takes a paper towel for herself and starts to help. “They were all way too excited to learn that Inspector Han is finally going to be relocated from critical care to general medical care and can now receive visitors.”

It makes Jaeyi crack a smile. “I can imagine Inspector Han may be annoyed enough to actually speed up his recovery just so he won’t have to deal with any more of their well-meaning nagging.”

Jihwa chuckles. “Well, if there’s anyone who can achieve the impossible, it’s Han Joowon.”

Her remark is only met with silence, prompting her to look up. She stops, tilts her head thoughtfully, and softly asks:

“You know why it’s you, don’t you?”

Jaeyi pauses. Her bun has become loose and her bangs are falling in front of her eyes, making it easy for Jaeyi to deliberately avoid Jihwa’s searching gaze.

“Of course I do. I was the only logical choice left.”

Jihwa raises her eyebrows when Jaeyi starts rubbing at a non-existent stain on the table with much more vigor than is necessary. “We all know it should have been Prosecutor Kwon or Dongsik-ahjussi, but Han Kihwan remains to be a fucking bastard even from behind bars,” Jaeyi bites out.

Jihwa’s mouth quirks; Jaeyi will find no disagreement with her there.

“But I also understand,” Jaeyi says quietly, “why it couldn’t have been anyone else.”

She stops and leans heavily with the heel of her palms on the table.

“It should’ve been you too, eonnie, but you and Jihoon-ie have to look out for each other too, and you’re already each other’s emergency contact. Everyone else is either affianced, married, has kids, or—”

The next words catch in Jaeyi’s throat. She takes a deep, shaky breath.

“Or has parents to take care of.”

There’s a profound sadness and resignation in Jaeyi’s eyes when she finally looks up to meet Jihwa’s gaze.

“So I understand why Inspector Han chose me, out of everyone. It couldn’t have been anyone else other than the only one of us who has no family left to lose.”

Just like him is left unsaid, but heavily understood.

There’s a soft intake of breath when Jihwa places her hand over Jaeyi’s, gentling the tightness of her fingers by threading theirs together.

“Inspector Han chose you,” Jihwa says softly, “because he knew without a doubt that it’s Dongsik-ie you would call first.”

Jihwa reaches out to tuck stray wisps of Jaeyi’s hair behind her ear, revealing Jaeyi’s beautiful eyes, shimmering with the tears she’s desperately trying to hold back.

“He also knew that you would not make any important medical decisions without consulting with Prosecutor Kwon first.”

Tenderly, she caresses Jaeyi’s cheek with the back of her hand; her fingers feel cold and wet as Jaeyi closes her eyes and the tears begin to fall from beneath those long lashes.

“And Inspector Han knew that just like you always have, you’d find a way to gather all of us here together—for him.”

Jihwa is ready for it, her arms already open to catch Jaeyi as she finally collapses against Jihwa, her whole frame shaking with broken sobs, the weight of everything she’s been carrying since receiving the call from the hospital finally crashing down on her.

Jihwa gathers her close; Jaeyi tightens her arms around Jihwa’s waist and buries her face in Jihwa’s neck to hide her tears.

“Uri Jaeyi. Han Jowoon chose you because you are our home. Because even someone like Han Joowon knows…”

Jihwa presses her mouth against Jaeyi’s hair and murmurs:

“Home is where he will always find his family.”

—

“Prosecutor Kwon.”

Hyeok stiffens at the all too familiar voice behind him. “I have to go,” he mutters quickly and ends the call.

He pockets his mobile phone, takes a deep breath, and turns around.

The lone, imposing figure at the top of the stairs is watching him, silhouette backlighted by the harsh, bluish-gray lights coming from the hospital doors from which he has just exited.

Hyeok swallows. “There’s—somewhere I need to be.”

Dongsik considers him for a long moment. “I know for a fact that you’re not going home,” he finally says quietly. “What’s so important that you need to leave in the middle of the night?”

“Work.”

Hyeok determinedly holds Dongsik’s gaze. He isn’t lying.

“I see.”

Dongsik makes his way slowly down the stairs of the hospital entrance and stops right in front Hyeok.

And it takes Hyeok’s breath away when Dongsik’s entire countenance changes at his next words—as if the weight of the world has finally been lifted from his shoulders as he regards Hyeok with a gentle smile.

“Uri Joowon-ie is finally transferred to general medical care,” Dongsik tells him softly. “He’s asking for you.”

The unexpected revelation sends Hyeok reeling as he sways on his feet. “Good—that’s good,” he stammers. “Tell him—”

Tell him he’s an idiot, tell him he doesn’t need to protect me because that’s my job, because I’m the big brother even though he has never, ever accepted me as his , because it’s my job to give him everything he needs and this, this is the one thing I can do for him, so tell him—

“Tell him… I have work to do.”

Hyeok adamantly tries his best to not flinch under Dongsik’s penetrating, piercing gaze.

Please, he silently, desperately begs. Please let me do this.

“Okay,” Dongsik assents, much to Hyeok’s surprise. “But before you go, Jihoon-ie asked me to give you this.”

Hyeok watches as Dongsik reaches inside his own jacket pocket. He takes something out and hands it over to Hyeok.

He immediately recognizes what it is—and his throat tightens when he sees his own name written on it.

“Uri Joowon-ie made sure you have one, too.”

Dongsik smiles at him.

“Looks like you’re stuck with us, Prosecutor Kwon.”

—

“Please make sure to feed that idiot too.”

Jaeyi’s mouth quirks, knowing she doesn’t need to clarify who it is. “I promise to feed them all. I think I saw some budae jjigae at the hospital cafeteria earlier.”

She pauses, considering. “Does he even like budae jjigae?”

From his position lying prone on the hospital bed, Joowon lets out a snort. “That man has ostentatious tastes. He’d do well to humble himself and expand his horizons.”

Jaeyi clamps her mouth shut as she tries not to smile at the absolute irony of that statement coming from Han Joowon, of all people. “He really is the one who raised you.”

She grins when Joowon glares at her the best he can from beneath all those bandages. “Speaking of Prosecutor Kwon,” she adds, “he told me something interesting about you.”

“Dear god,” Joowon mutters.

Jaeyi laughs. “He actually talks very fondly of you, you know,” she reveals, smiling a little sadly at the way Joowon looks at her in disbelief. “He told me that you’re eligible for citizenship in England.”

Joowon’s gaze is contemplative as Jaeyi lets the weight of the implication settle between them. “Why are you bringing this up?” he quietly asks.

Jaeyi hesitates. “It’s legal there, isn’t it?” She bites her lip. “If you and ahjussi ever were to get married.”

It’s the way Joowon’s expression remains impassive and unsurprised that tells it all.

This is not the first time it has occurred to him.

“Ahjussi fought hard to be in here,” Jaeyi tells him softly, choosing not to expound on how Hyeok had to physically restrain Dongsik from charging through the doors of critical care. “He fought so hard for his right as your partner.”

“But according to the law, he is not my family.”

Jaeyi swallows at the way Joowon tonelessly repeats Hyeok’s earlier statement nearly word for word. “He can be.”

Joowon turns his head on the pillow to look straight into her eyes. She holds his gaze as the smile she gives him is bittersweet. “He can be your rightful family in England. That’s why I’m bringing it up.”

“I’m not going to do that to him.”

That is certainly not the fierce declaration Jaeyi expects. “What?”

The wires and tubes connected to his body all jangle at the heavy sigh Joowon heaves. “I’m not going to bring Lee Dongsik to England.”

Jaeyi furrows her brows. “Why not?”

The smile Joowon offers her with his wounded and bruised lips is gentle and warm. “Because Manyang butcher shop doesn’t exist there.”

It feels like Jaeyi has been stabbed straight through her heart.

“I love him.” Joowon’s no-nonsense statement is powerful in its simplicity and sincerity. “And it is my sole purpose in life to make him happy.”

Whatever doubts Jaeyi had in the past about Han Joowon being deserving of Lee Dongsik’s love and devotion is now completely obliterated in the wake of this vow.

Because Han Joowon isn’t just someone who will move heaven and earth for Lee Dongsik.

“I will never take Lee Dongsik away from his own family.”

For Lee Dongsik, Han Joowon will go through hell.

—

There’s a sharp intake of breath from Gwangyoung. “Attempted murder?”

“Wait.” Jihoon finally speaks up in disbelief at the direction of the discussion and the unwanted gravity of the implication. “Why are we even considering foul play?”

His sister then looks straight at her boss, who’s startled by her sharp gaze.

Ohsub clears his throat. “As you may all very well know, as police officers, we have the duty and responsibility to avoid speculation without hard evidence.”

Jihwa crosses her arms—and Jihoon recognizes that look immediately.

It’s the look of his big sister—the woman of the house—not letting anyone get away with any bullshit.

Ohsub purses his lips and finally relents.

“Ever since I’ve been promoted to Superintendent,” he begins hesitantly, “I’ve been rubbing elbows with a lot of higher ups in the force, and I’ve been privy to a lot of their conversations. Even the ones they never meant for me to hear.”

He turns to face Jihoon gravely. “They all hate Inspector Han.”

Jihoon frowns, instinctively defensive. “Joowon-hyung is not a bad cop.”

“Inspector Han is indeed a very, very good cop,” Dosoo easily agrees; Jihoon furrows his brows, noting the austerity of Dosoo’s tone in what’s supposed to be praise.

“Inspector Han follows the letter of the law and enacts justice on everyone without exception,” Seonnyeo says quietly. “Not even his own self. Not even the one person he loves beyond all measure.”

They fall silent at her words. Dosoo intertwines their fingers together in empathetic solidarity.

“Not even,” Jihwa adds quietly, “his own father.”

“Not even the wealthiest and most powerful cop in the country borne out of a law enforcement dynasty spanning four generations,” Ohsub clarifies morosely. “The Han family network is a systemic power that’s vast and deeply rooted in the force. It’s how they kept the power in the family for decades.”

Ohsub looks grimly at them.

“And Inspector Han just dismantled it all.”

Jihoon’s gaze is arrested by the way Jihwa leans her head back against the wall at her apprehensive words. “It’s always been an open secret that the Han family dynasty had steadily built and strengthened their influence within the Korean National Police Agency until the third of their generation finally reached the very top.”

“Only to be brought down by their own fourth generation.” Dosoo presses his lips together. “The best and smartest of them all.”

Jihoon swallows. “Han Joowon,” he whispers.

Ohsub sighs and rubs his eyebrows tiredly. “Han Kihwan had his dirty fingers dipped in a lot of pies and had plenty of cronies in the force, most of whom lost significant power after his arrest.”

“I bet they lost a hell of a lot of money too,” Gwangyoung mutters.

Ohsub inclines his head in agreement at the point. “Which means Inspector Han has an ever growing list of enemies, and all of them are in the police force.”

“And word on the grapevine is that they’re planning to take him out.”

Jihoon holds his breath at his sister’s words as she looks at him straight in the eye.

“Through whatever means necessary.”

Jihoon’s hands curl into fists as he turns back to Ohsub. “Hyung—Superintendent Kwak—can’t you report them?”

“For what? Talking smack about a coworker?” Ohsub snorts bitterly. “I can’t even record their conversations because it won’t hold up in any court, and I have no evidence of them actually acting on their threats.”

“Until now,” Seonnyeo interjects quietly. “We don’t have any evidence for the act just yet, nor do we have any leads for an actual suspect, but we certainly have plenty of motive for the attempted murder of Han Joowon.”

Finally putting it into actual words makes the declaration weigh heavily upon all of them.

“Wouldn’t his father protect him?”

Everyone turns to Jihoon at his despaired whisper. “Joowon-hyung is still his family.” He looks at them all desperately. “How much of a monster would Han Kihwan be to allow his own son to be killed?”

His throat tightens as his sister leans forward and lets her face fall into her hands.“In the recording Inspector Han submitted, Lee Changjin can be heard asking Han Kihwan if he’s willing to kill his own son.”

Jihoon watches as Jihwa slicks her hair back, lips pressed tight at the mention of her abominable ex-husband. “It’s corroborated by Lee Changjin’s own statement afterward, when he confessed.”

“And later on, after Han Kihwan’s arrest,” Dosoo adds somberly, “Dongsik-hyung and Inspector Han separately submitted their own statements about what really happened that night at the Han residence.”

“And their statements matched,” Ohsub affirms.

Jihoon swallows.

“Han Kihwan pointed a gun at his own son’s head,” Jihwa viciously reveals, a quiet rage simmering beneath the bitten out words. “A loaded gun. With the safety off.”

She screws her eyes shut as she fights to calm her breathing. “We don’t know if Han Kihwan is the one behind this attempted murder—”

“Allegedly,” Ohsub firmly interjects.

“—on Han Joowon’s life,” Jihwa finishes anyway. “What we do know for certain is that even if he isn’t, Han Kihwan is the kind of father who doesn’t care whether or not his son dies, if it means saving his own ass.”

The resounding silence is suffocating.

“Dongsik-hyung should know.”

The loud, bitter laughter Jihwa lets out at Jihoon’s quiet declaration startles everyone in their seats. “No. Dongsik-ie absolutely should not know. There’s a very good reason Inspector Han did not list him as his emergency contact.”

“Emergency contacts are accessible by police authorities during criminal investigations,” Ohsub explains grimly. “Killing Inspector Han is like killing two birds with one stone, because it opens up a case.”

Jihoon feels like he’s going insane at how he can actually follow the deranged train of thought. “And it allows cops access to private records, including that of Dongsik-hyung, if he’s listed as Joowon-hyung’s emergency contact.”

“Yes,” Ohsub affirms. “Because everyone in the force also knows that Inspector Han didn’t bring down Han Kihwan singlehandedly.”

“He had a partner,” Jihwa says quietly, “in Lee Dongsik.”

Jihoon stares at them, unwilling to accept what they’re all implying. “Are you saying that Dongsik-hyung needs to be protected?”

“No,” Ohsub says wryly, “the problem is precisely the opposite.”

“Lee Dongsik brought down the most powerful cop in the country and put an end to a family dynasty just to bring justice to Lee Yuyeon.” The look his sister gives Jihoon is tinged with a strange mixture of bittersweet sadness and fearful trepidation. “How far do you think Lee Dongsik is willing to go this time just to bring justice to Han Joowon?”

Jihoon inhales sharply.

“The whole world,” Jihwa quietly declares, “might as well burn.”

—

“The damn truck driver is alive?!”

“Currently in surgery as we speak. Apparently that bastard Han Joowon swerved just enough in time to avoid most of the impact.”

“Pests really are such a headache to exterminate.”

“What are we going to do if the driver talks?”

“What’s he gonna say? He can’t prove that we drugged him.”

“And Han Joowon? There are so many other ways to get rid of that pest, why are we doing it this way?”

“It’s fitting, isn’t it? The father had been brought down by a DUI. It’s poetic that we bring down the son in exactly the same way.”

—

“Doesn’t Joowon-hyung deserve that?”

Jihoon’s hands are tightly fisted on his lap as he looks up at his sister. “After having a father who won’t think twice about throwing his own son into hell, doesn’t Joowon-hyung deserve to have someone who will instead burn the world for him?”

Everyone falls silent at his breathless question. Jihwa tilts her head to one side, watching him thoughtfully.

“Yes,” she finally assents. “He does.”

Jihoon stares at the way his sister unexpectedly smiles.

“Just—not right now,” Jihwa comments dryly, “while Dongsik-ie is still under probation.”

Jihoon blinks.

Dosoo grins wryly, backing up his partner. “Dongsik-hyung can’t protect or fight alongside Inspector Han if he ends up in prison.”

Whatever Jihoon is about to say next dies on his lips as everyone’s attention is arrested when the doors to critical care suddenly swing open—

—and out walks Jaeyi.

Everyone scrambles to their feet in surprise, anxiously watching her amble towards them with unsteady steps; Jihoon notes how she has her arms wrapped tightly around herself, the tremors in her frame betraying how she’s fiercely trying to control her quiet sobs.

Jihoon feels the ground reeling beneath his feet, dreading the absolute worst. “Noona…?”

Slowly, Jaeyi raises her head, and Jihoon’s chest twists achingly at the sight of her: Jaeyi’s clothes are rumpled, her hair is disheveled, her eyes are haggard and red from crying—

And she’s staring straight at Jihoon.

“Inspector Han is awake. You’re the first person he’s asking to see.”

From his peripheral vision, Jihoon sees the way his sister sharply turns to him in undisguised alarm.

“Me?” Jihoon breathes, heart in his throat. “Why me?”

With shaking hands, Jaeyi reaches inside her jacket and takes out a letter envelope.

The smile she offers Jihoon is trembling.

“He wants you to have this.”

—

“Did you even calculate the route correctly?”

“The timing of the crash was supposed to be perfect. We even planted the road detours they were both forced to take and timed the traffic lights to malfunction at the precise intersection.”

“It should’ve been enough to indict the truck driver for beating the red light. He was supposed to be our scapegoat.”

“Except the idiot actually lost consciousness. The spiked alcohol in his system was way too potent.”

“Go through the crash site and get rid of the dashboard camera so it can’t be submitted as evidence.”

“We can’t.”

“What do you mean we can’t?”

“Someone got to the footage first.”

“Who the fuck would want that footage?”

“That meddlesome fool from Team One of Munju Police Station’s Violent Crimes Unit. Assistant Inspector Kang Dosoo.”

—

This is what a heart attack must feel like, Jaeyi thinks as she rushes forward in a panic, heart hammering violently against her ribs.

“Inspector Han!”

She shrieks, a hand firmly on Joowon’s bandaged chest to stop him from rising from the hospital bed; the insistent warning beeping of all the machines connected to his body isn’t helping her already jangled nerves. “Please let me call the nurses now.”

“Officer Oh,” Joowon says hoarsely instead, and it makes Jaeyi’s gaze snap up to him in surprise. “I need to find Officer Oh.”

Jaeyi furrows her brows. “… Jihoon-ie?” Tendrils of worry color her tone as a creeping sense of dread begins to overtake her at the completely unexpected name.

“Please,” Joowon whispers as he lies back on his bed, and it’s a testament to how utterly weak his current state is that he can’t even put up a physical fight against Jaeyi.

It makes her simultaneously ache for him and feel utterly enraged on his behalf.

“Please find him,” Joowon is begging her. “I need to give something to him.”

Jaeyi squeezes her eyes shut. Calm. Inspector Han needs you to be calm, damn it. “Okay,” she relents, “but only if you behave and stay still.”

He has the absolute audacity to smirk at her. “All right, mother.”

“I am not—!”

Jaeyi takes a deep lungful of breath and lets it out slowly as she runs her hands over her face. “Dear god, ahjussi really is the only one who can match your insanity,” Jaeyi mutters between her fingers.

Joowon blinks at her innocently.

Jaeyi scowls. “Fine. What is it that you need to give to Jihoon-ie?”

“It’s in my coat—”

“I just told you to stay still—”

Joowon seems to finally take pity on her—that, or the way she inadvertently pitches her tone incredibly high with worry really does sound like a mother scolding her wayward son. “Forgive me,” he murmurs, looking appropriately chastised. “I just—need to know it’s there.”

Jaeyi sighs, heart softening despite herself. “I think the nurses put away the clothes you were wearing—”

—when you almost died and we almost lost you—

“—when they found you. I’ll see if I can find your coat.”

Joowon is compliantly quiet and still as Jaeyi turns her back on him. She rummages through the pile of clothes she vaguely remembers that the nurses have set aside by the bedside drawers when they first wheeled in the hospital bed—with Han Joowon lying on it deathly still.

Jaeyi firmly presses her lips together and staunchly refuses to let her attention linger on the bloodstains still caked on the clothes, refusing to even think about how much blood Joowon has actually lost.

She inwardly vows to get rid of the stains before Dongsik finds them. She refuses to think about what will happen if he does.

Maybe she should just burn the clothes entirely, before Dongsik ends up burning something else.

“Yoo Jaeyi-ssi,” Joowon speaks up softly from behind her, pulling her wandering thoughts back to the task at hand.

She finds the coat at the bottom of the pile, the dark color thankfully camouflaging whatever bloodstains still managed to splatter on the outer piece of clothing.

“It’s inside the pocket,” Joowon murmurs. “You’ll find a letter envelope.”

Jaeyi begins patting down the coat and reaches inside the first pocket she finds.

She ends up pulling out Joowon’s wallet. It falls open just as she fully intends to put it aside.

Jaeyi stares.

She recognizes the background with how often she’s been at Okcheon lake. She recognizes that it’s summer too, with how clear the skies are and how glaringly bright the sun is shining, as well as the thin tank top worn for the heat.

It’s the way Lee Dongsik is looking back at her that takes her breath away.

His curls are caught in a frozen summer breeze—it’s obviously been a while since this photo has been taken, since Dongsik hasn’t had his haircut yet in this one. The sunshine from above highlights the fond glow of his eyes as he looks lovingly at the camera, the corners of his mouth softened by a tender smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who has taken the photo. There’s only one person in the entire world whom Dongsik ever looks at like this.

Like he’s looking at a piece of paradise—his deliverance and salvation all at once.

Like Lee Dongsik has finally been allowed inside the elusive gates of heaven.

“Did you find it?”

Jaeyi drops the wallet on the bedside table as if it scalds her. “I—no—a letter envelope right,” she stammers, feeling weirdly guilty about accidentally discovering what she knows for sure is meant to be kept private.

“Yes.” Joowon sounds amused. “It’s in the other pocket.”

“Right.” Jaeyi responds distractedly. Pull yourself together, she silently admonishes herself. “Here, I think I found it.”

Her fingers close upon the envelope and pulls it out.

Behind her, she hears Joowon draw a sharp intake of breath. “Can you check if it’s all there?”

Jaeyi blinks. Check what?

She opens the envelope—and is entirely taken aback to see all of their names printed on each one.

Han Joowon. Lee Dongsik. Oh Jihoon. Oh Jihwa. Yoo Jaeyi. Hwang Gwangyoung. Kang Dosoo. Im Seonnyeo. Kwak Ohsub.

Her eyebrows rise at the last name she finds.

Kwon Hyeok.

Slowly, Jaeyi turns around to face Joowon once more, the envelope carefully cradled in her hands.

She’s thoroughly nonplussed.

“Concert tickets?”

Joowon looks relieved. “Music festival tickets, to be precise,” he clarifies. “Officer Oh told me that he once promised to take her when he was still an idol trainee, because he wanted to perform for her at a music festival when he debuted. Unfortunately his idol career fell through, so he wasn’t able to fulfill his promise to her.”

Jaeyi’s brows crinkle in confusion. “Her…?”

“I figured the timing is now right,” Joowon murmurs, “considering the date of the festival.”

Jaeyi’s gaze falls back to the tickets. She takes one out—the one with her own name printed on it—and inspects it carefully.

Her knees suddenly wobble and she falls back to her seat as soon as she recognizes the date. Her hand flies to her mouth to silence the shocked cry that threatens to burst forth.

“It’s a celebration,” Joowon says softly, “of Kang Minjeong’s birthday.”

—

“ Kang Dosoo? No wonder he sounds familiar. That’s one of the names.”

“What names?”

“On the tickets Han Joowon bought from me.”

—

“Lee Dongsik.”

Hyeok feels the other man’s eyes on him as he carefully pockets the ticket close to his heart.

His hands are surprisingly steady.

“Find the fuckers who hurt our Joowon,” he whispers fiercely, “and leave the rest to me.”

The iron grip on his arm is unyielding when he turns to leave.

“Hyeok-ah,” Dongsik hisses through gritted teeth. “What the hell are you planning to do?”

Hyeok’s gaze travels from Dongsik’s hand all the way up to his eyes. Privately he notes that the fire burning in that gaze is flaring much in the same way as Joowon’s eyes once did when he implored Hyeok to cut off the rotten rope tying him to Han Kihwan.

It’s almost like looking into the eyes of another brother.

“I told you inside that hospital that according to the law, you are not Han Joowon’s family.”

It satisfies Hyeok immensely to see Dongsik looking so unsettled and taken aback at the slow, wolfish grin that creeps across Hyeok’s face.

After all, Lee Dongsik may be forgetting who actually raised Han Joowon.

“It’s time to change the law.”

—

Supreme Court recognizes rights of same-sex couples to receive spousal health insurance coverage

Korea's Supreme Court recognized new rights for same-sex couples Thursday, saying the state must provide health insurance for a gay man's partner in a landmark ruling that left activists weeping for joy.

"National Health Insurance should recognize spousal insurance coverage for same-sex couples," the court ruled, with activists breaking into cheers as the verdict was read out.

The verdict, which cannot be appealed as it comes from the country's highest court, means common-law spouses of the same sex can now register as dependents on their partners' health insurance.

"It is discrimination based on sexual orientation to exclude the couple just because they are same-sex," the court ruled.

"It is a discriminatory act that violates human dignity and values, the right to pursue happiness, freedom of privacy, and the right to be equal before the law, and the degree of infringement is serious."

—

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Text Message

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Common-law spouses?

What happened to hi, hello, good evening? Do old men like you really forget your manners as you age?

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Hi, hello, good evening Prosecutor Kwon. I’m also only six years older than you, you little shit. Common-law spouses?

De Facto Marriage in legal terms, yeah

My client sued the National Health Insurance Service because it terminated benefits for his partner after discovering they were a gay couple

The NHIS is legally required to grant spousal coverage benefits even to common-law partners, and both the Seoul High Court and the Supreme Court mandated that the NHIS reinstate my client’s dependent benefits

JOOWON’S LUNATIC I didn’t know De Facto Marriage in our country was also applicable to queer couples

It is now

JOOWON’S LUNATIC I see

JOOWON’S LUNATIC So how exactly can a De Facto Marriage be legally established under the law?

(i) Mutual intent to form a marital relationship

(ii) The existence of substance of marital life

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Can you possibly elaborate on that without all the legal mumbo jumbo?

You know, normally I charge clients for consultations like this

By the hour

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Eh, just put it on your brother’s tab

The court looks into various factors such as the duration of cohabitation, the existence of a marriage ceremony, and relationship with other family members

My client already had a public ceremony with his partner three years ago, which was attended by all of their friends and family, and they’ve also been living together since way before the wedding

JOOWON’S LUNATIC So you’re saying the relationship needs to be publicized as akin to an actual marriage

Yeah, basically

JOOWON’S LUNATIC I see

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Prosecutor Kwon

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Hyeok-ah

For the love of god Lee Dongsik it is three in the fucking morning and I have a court hearing in five hours STOP BLOWING UP MY NOTIFICATIONS I NEED TO SLEEP

JOOWON’S LUNATIC How do you feel about officiating our wedding ceremony?

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Are you there? Yah, did you actually fall asleep on me?

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Prosecutor Kwon

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Prosecutor Kwonnn

JOOWON’S LUNATIC Hyeok-ahhhhh

I’m putting all of this on your husband’s tab

Also

It’s about damn time

—

“What made you say yes?”

“Technically, he said yes.”

“It’s not a competition of who loves the other more, you know.”

“I certainly don’t want to lose.”

“So that’s why you asked him? The last time we talked, you were adamant about keeping your distance to protect him.”

“That was before I made the unforgivable mistake of failing to be by his side when he needed me the most because of a miscalculation I made last year.”

“You mean when you almost died.”

“Don’t be dramatic, I made a full recovery in record time, according to my physical therapists.”

“Again—not a competition, Inspector Han. So what made you decide to finally publicize your relationship?”

“The law changes everything.”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? What Prosecutor Kwon did for you.”

“He charges me by the hour.”

“Well, you and Dongsik-ie will legally have joint finances soon, so I’m sure you’ll be able to afford Prosecutor Kwon’s rates.”

“Dongsik-ssi is actually not happy about that. He said he doesn’t want access to my finances, and while I understand that it’s because he also doesn’t want to have anything to do with my father’s dirty money, the fact remains that he of all people deserves to be paid reparations by Han Kihwan. Why are you grinning like that?”

“Only you, Inspector Han, will blackmail Lee Dongsik into becoming filthy rich through a De Facto Marriage because he won’t accept your money otherwise. You two lunatics truly deserve each other.”

“… I’m trying to ascertain whether that is a compliment or an insult.”

“So—joint finances, joint custody of properties. You’ll also now legally be the co-owner of the Okcheon lake residence. It’s all just a formality anyway, since you two have been living together there for years now.”

“How did you—”

“Jihoon-ie talks. A lot.”

“Finances and property aren’t my main concern anyway, because unlike legal marriages, common-law spouses aren’t automatically granted inheritance should one of us die.”

“Pretty sure neither of you are going to let that happen in the first place.”

“I’m certainly not gonna die before him.”

“Not really a competition Inspector Han, considering you’re thirteen years younger.”

“What I mean is that I simply won’t survive without him. Because I don’t want to.”

“That’s—Inspector Han—”

“And because common-law spouses are still legally mandated to uphold the same vows of fidelity, I am looking forward to him keeping his vow to spend the rest of his life with me.”

“You’re—blackmailing him to keep himself alive for you.”

“That is the gist of it, yes.”

“Huh. Well, whatever works to keep him safe, I guess.”

“It is a grave lesson that the unfortunate situation last year—“

“You almost dying—”

“—has irrevocably taught me. It is better to protect him by keeping him close instead of keeping him at a distance.”

“And the privilege extended to common-law spouses in legally refusing to testify against each other has absolutely no bearing on your decision to ask for Dongsik-ie’s hand in marriage? Publicizing your relationship like this makes you even more of a target.”

“From what’s left of my father’s fallen network?”

“No, I don’t think Han Kihwan’s men will be a problem anymore. I’m more concerned about the homophobic vultures inevitably swarming you both because of your soon to be public marriage.”

“De Facto Marriage. The spousal privilege is not automatically granted in the same way as legal marriages, because every protection and privilege granted to common-law spouses will have to go through further legal proceedings to be granted by the court.”

“It’s a good thing you have a cutthroat lawyer on your side.”

“Whose exorbitant rates are preposterous.”

“It’s worth it though, isn’t it?”

“For Lee Dongsik? Always.”

“I’m really happy for you, Joowon-ah. Both of you. You’ll show me the photos, right?”

“Of what?”

“The wedding ceremony. I’m sure it’s going to be magical.”

“Why would I show you photos?”

“I—I just thought—I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to—”

“Why would I show you photos when you can take them yourself?”

“… What?”

“You’ll be out on parole soon, won’t you? For good behavior.”

“How did you—”

“I have, shall we say, a ridiculously overcompensated lawyer working on it.”

“… But why? Why would he—why would you do this for me?”

“There’s a reason we set the date of the wedding ceremony after your prison sentence has ended.”

“I—Dongsik-ie didn’t invite me.”

“You’re not his guest. You’re mine, Park Jeongje-ssi.”

—

“I see,” Gwangyoung murmurs. “I’ll take note of that. Thank you for informing me.”

Jihwa looks up as Gwangyoung ends his call. She sees the way he frowns when he sees precisely who’s missing.

“Where’s Dongsik-hyung?”

“Where do you think?” Jaeyi looks incredibly drained but the smile she gives them all is much more weightless now. “It’s going to be an impossible challenge to pry ahjussi away from Inspector Han’s bedside from now on, unless someone has a pretty compelling reason.”

“Nothing less than the apocalypse happening,” Seonnyeo says amusedly as the tightness of her shoulders finally relaxes.

Dosoo grins at his wife when she lays her head on his shoulder. “Maybe not even then.”

“We’re going to have to ask the nurses to bring in two trays for every hospital meal,” Jihoon chuckles, puffy eyes still red-rimmed but brighter. “And two changes of clothes every night and day too.”

“The hospital bill will also definitely double,” Ohsub says wryly. “Too bad the NHIS doesn’t recognize Inspector Han as Dongsik-ie’s dependent, though I’m sure Inspector Han can afford to pay for everything anyway.”

“It’s not really the money that’s the issue,” Jihoon protests, “but the principle of equality. Especially in the eyes of the law.”

“Yeah well,” Ohsub shrugs as he leans back with a sigh. “The world has never treated everyone equally and that’s never gonna change, kid.”

“I am not a kid,” Jihoon grumbles.

Jihwa smiles and reaches out to ruffle her baby brother’s hair affectionately. Across from her, she notes the way Gwangyoung takes his seat with a sort of quiet tension, and it makes Jihwa pause.

“Everything okay, Gwangyoung-ah? Who was that on the phone?”

He looks up at her with uncharacteristic seriousness. “A friend from the force. Someone who has access to the traffic cameras.”

Jihwa feels her pulse begin to quicken.

Ohsub narrows his eyes. “Can this friend be trusted?”

“Yes,” Gwangyoung says firmly, “because I asked him to review the route Inspector Han had taken tonight before the collision.”

The mood in the hospital corridor instantly changes at his words.

“And what did he find out?” Jihwa prompts impatiently.

Gwangyoung presses his lips together. “We all know that Inspector Han is someone who sticks rigidly to routine. Whenever he gets off work, there’s only two routes he ever takes for either of two destinations: Manyang butcher shop, or Okcheon lake.”

“Wherever ahjussi is,” Jaeyi murmurs.

Gwangyoung tilts his head. “Tonight however, he made a detour.”

Jihwa’s eyebrows rise. “To where?”

“That’s where it gets strange,” Gwangyoung says in frustration. “The cameras coincidentally malfunctioned just as he started to break away from his normal route.”

That’s not a coincidence.

“The tickets.”

Everyone turns to Jaeyi in surprise; Jihoon clutches the letter envelope a little tighter against his chest.

Jaeyi meets Jihwa’s gaze. “Inspector Han told me that he went to pick up the tickets tonight.”

“Where though?” Dosoo pipes up. “Ticketing offices are already closed by the time his shift is over.”

“That’s not even the most questionable part.”

Jihwa turns at the way her brother hesitantly speaks up; his brows are furrowed in contemplation as he gazes at the envelope in his hands. He takes a deep breath and meets Jihwa’s eyes.

“The tickets for the festival were already sold out months ago,” Jihoon says quietly. “I’ve been wondering how Joowon-hyung got these tickets in the first place.”

“Some government offices actually get free complimentary tickets from entertainment companies who want to cut through the red tape,” Ohsub points out. “It’s technically bribery, but unfortunately it’s common practice for crooked officials taking advantage of the perks. Maybe Inspector Han’s department got a hold of these tickets.”

Jaeyi swiftly shakes her head. “No, Inspector Han definitely said he bought them.”

“Also—” Dosoo’s eyebrows fly to his hairline. “Han Joowon? Accepting bribery?”

“… All right, well, point taken,” Ohsub mutters. “It was just a theory.”

Government offices…

“Seonnyeo-ah,” Jihwa calls her out. “Can you go through the list of clients the truck driver delivers to, and see if there are any government offices along his route tonight?”

Ohsub furrows his brows. “What are you up to, Inspector Oh?”

“Gathering evidence,” Jihwa answer simply, startling all of them when she starts rattling instructions. “Jihoon-ah, if it’s true that the festival is already sold out, and Jaeyi says that Inspector Han only got the tickets tonight, it means he bought them secondhand.”

She gestures to the letter envelope in Jihoon’s hands.

“All tickets have corresponding control numbers that are unique to each one. You and Jaeyi should go through the secondhand market online to see if anyone posted photos or screenshots of the tickets with these control numbers and find out who the seller is. Ask Prosecutor Kwon to send you photos of his own ticket too. Dosoo-ya, I need you to get the footage of the dashboard camera from both vehicles involved in the crash, asap. And Gwangyoung-ah.”

Gwangyoung snaps to attention at being addressed.

“Your informant.” Jihwa narrows her eyes. “Who does he work for?”

—

“There’s just one thing I’d like to know, Park Jeongje-ssi.”

“Anything, Joowon-ah.”

“What exactly did you mean when you said my father’s men won’t be a problem anymore?”

—

Dongsik’s grip on Hyeok tightens.

“I know you won’t appreciate hearing this from me, Hyeok-ah,” he hisses, “but I will never forgive you if you make Joowonie go through the agonizing pain of losing the only sibling he’s ever known—”

Even through several layers of clothing, Hyeok feels the way Dongsik’s fingernails dig sharply into his skin.

“—because I know exactly what that feels like.”

Hyeok heart spasms.

“Then you’ll understand precisely what I’m about to ask of you.”

He grasps Dongsik’s arm with equal fervor, his gaze burning with equal intensity.

“I beg of you, Lee Dongsik,” Hyeok invokes beseechingly, casting away all of his pride for the one person he’s risking it all for. “Please don’t let me lose my brother.”

—

Jihwa stares at all the undeniable, irrefutable evidence in her hands.

It all points to a single entity.

Slowly, she raises her head—and sees her family, her team, all watching her.

Waiting.

Jihwa takes a deep breath and looks at her boss.

“Superintendent Kwak,” she says solemnly, “I formally ask for your permission for Violent Crimes to pursue and prioritize this case.”

She glances at her partner. Dosoo nods once—firmly.

Resolutely.

Ohsub’s expression is grave when Jihwa turns back to him.

“And I’m going to need a search and seizure warrant for—”

—

“The Community Safety and Traffic Bureau will be welcoming new employees today, so you all better be on your best behavior.”

“Why? These newbies are going to go through our hazing anyway.”

“What are their jobs?”

“Management changed agencies due to budget cuts, so there’s going to be new custodians on board.”

“You mean glorified janitors.”

“A lot of them are ex-cons who are out on parole or probation, so it’s not like they have the best career options to choose from.”

“Who would willingly choose a career in cleaning toilets, right?”

“Ah here comes one of them now. According to his file, his probation just ended, so he’s now a free man once again.”

“Free to once again commit crimes and land himself back in prison.”

“Who knows, maybe this one isn’t a lunatic for once. You over there, you’re new, right? What’s your name?”

The man in question stops. Slowly, he takes off the cap of his custodian uniform, revealing a wild mess of curls underneath.

Everyone takes an unwitting step back at the maniacal glint of those eyes as the man takes a deep, ninety-degree bow.

“My name is…”

The man straightens, his mouth stretching in a wide, serpentine grin of a psychopath, rivaling that of a serial killer—

—and they collectively feel their heart stop as they all instantly recognize who he is.

And somehow they know, without a doubt, that they’re all about to burn.

“Lee Dongsik, at your service.”

—

모든 게 다 타 버리고 남아있는 한 줌이여 Ash, ash, ash, ash 방주를 새롭게 지어 나아가 저 세계로 Ash, ash, ash, ash

Oh, the handful that's left from everything burning Ash, ash, ash, ash Let's build a new ark and go out into the world Ash, ash, ash, ash

—

Also posted at AO3

For @eonni92, whose multiple, precious gifts of artistry I wholeheartedly treasure, and for whom I can only humbly offer this story as my gift in return.

—

Title and lyrics from "Ash" by SEVENTEEN

References:

The landmark Supreme Court ruling recognizing the rights of same-sex couples is based on factual events in South Korea, as publicized in July 2024. A portion of the article from The Korea Times is lifted word for word for the purposes of this story. You can read the article in full here. The only fictional aspect in this story with regards to the actual lawsuit is who the prosecutor in charge was 😉

Both the Oh family background and the Han family background are all canon, based on the character backgrounds in the official script book by Beyond Evil writer Kim Sujin herself. You can read the English translations of the script book here, as translated by @rumpleteasa, who is a remarkable gem of a reliable resource for the fandom.

Thank you so much for your time in reading this story, and always remember:

It's not "blood is thicker than water" but "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb".

May you all find your own Manyang butcher shop, and may you all redefine what it truly means to be family.

#beyond evil #my fic #괴물 #jwds #주원동식 #season 2 or a series special if it were to happen #because the case isn't over just yet #manyang family ensemble #non-linear narrative #case fic

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riniworld · 1 year ago

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YANDERE!judge x LAWYER!gn!reader

warnings// obsession,yandere theme,Incorrect use of the law (?),mention of Hanging.

refrence// you.

a/n: i forget i have tumbler lol.

just started watching harry potter and i think i know what I'm addicted to.

•you didn't get along with him the first time you arrived.

•having beliefs different from the beliefs of the person who your training under making your training very difficult.

•and he wasn't less annoyed from you,He tried to transfer you to another judge, but no one had an empty spot.

•so now he's stuck.

•whenever you two argue because of a case,you should expect to find a lot of paperwork on your desk.

•he didn't plan on loving someone soon.

•but how can he not,when you are almost always together?

•Or when you bow your head down in obedience when he reminds you of who he is and what his status is compared to you.

•he can't even deny your intelligence.

•Now he doesn't put a lot of paperwork on your desk because he's annoyed with you, but because he wants you to stay more.

•and now your desk in his office because "i have to keep an eye on your work".

•your stuck with him from early morning until late night.

•what's that? Your car broke down? don't worry he'll drive you home just because you were a good trainee.

•he's not a party type but he'll come as long as you're there.

•also he made sure you'll get drunk so he can drive you home once more.

•but he didn't expect you to fall asleep,not on his shoulder at least.

•he has to hide his face so no one could see how red it is...or the creepy smile he has on.

•no one should see that cute peaceful face of yours,they have no right.

•so he excused himself quickly and took you home.

•the next day he became softer and the day after that and after and after.

•it was so strange from him but it's not like you're complaining in fact that made your work more easier.

•But that didn't last long....

•One day, he noticed everyone congratulating you and giving you gifts and you were extra happy.

•he LOVED that smile on your face but had that bad feeling inside him.

•And when he asked...it was the biggest shock of his entire life.

•how could you...? after everything he did?...how could you get engaged!?

•he wouldn't let that slide,he would never.

•and out of nowhere your fiancé has been charged with murder.

•how? when? where? you didn't know.

•but what you knew is that your fiancé is innocent.

•and for your relive The judge of his case is the one your trained under.

•Maybe you can convince him that your fiancé is innocent!

•But he was adamant that he was guilty and that all evidence indicated that your fiancé was guilty.

•You wanted to be your fiancé's defense lawyer, but the judge said that you are still in training and can't do this.

•in the end you couldn't do anything and your fiancé was hanged.

•Your dreams have been destroyed and you have fallen into depression.

•but don't worry the judge is always there to comfort you,and he always will be

•you don't need to know that he the one who did all of that.

•You've already fallen into his trap anyway.

hope you liked it:)

have a nice day/night♡

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere judge

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 9 months ago

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Reckoner: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: Your world is turned upside down when you get in trouble for something you didn't even do. The entire team is in uproar over this but Hotch says he will take care of it. Can he? Or are you doomed to live out the rest of your days in misery?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

Thankfully, the team has the current case to keep them occupied so they don't think about you, but Spencer doesn't have that outlet. He's stuck in Penelope's office forced to think about you, what you might be going through, how you must be feeling, and how he can't do anything about it. He's bouncing his leg up and down rapidly because his anxiety is spiking. He would bite his nails if they hadn't already been bitten down to the nub.

"Spence, why don't you take a walk? I'm sure it'll do good to clear your head," Penelope suggests.

"No, thanks."

She sighs and turns back to the computer screens before calling Rossi. She's been working hard on her end to try and figure out who The Planner is.

"What do you have?" Rossi answers.

"I've concentrated on the last three cases because they left the freshest e-prints. However, over a hundred thousand cases pass through the Long Island Court."

"Who had eyes on the files?"

"Literally hundreds of people."

"Change track. Focus on The Enforcer. Look at mob-related murder trials on Long Island over the last ten years. We're looking for a hitman."

Penelope types quickly and comes up with a shorter list, albeit still long.

"There are over ninety-three mob trials in the last ten years."

"Put aside any trials that resulted in a conviction. Weed out mistrials and arraignments."

"Nineteen."

"Were any of those on trial suspected of being hitmen or enforcers?"

"Three, but I got something else here. Tony Mecacci's case was judged a mistrial but check out his suspected victim."

She sends over the file immediately so they can look it over. His victims are the same as the team's current victims. All were shot in the same style as the ones on the file.

".22 caliber, right?"

"Bulls-eye."

"Cross-match our profile of The Planner against all those connected with this trial."

Penelope continues to type as she speaks.

"Let's see here. We have prosecuting lawyer Garret Daniels, Judge Boyd Schuller, criminal defense lawyer Paul--"

"Wait, did you say Judge Shuller?" Rossi cuts her off.

"Yeah, I'm sending over a photo."

Rossi waits for the photo to come through so he can confirm whether or not he knows this person. He does.

"What's wrong?" Hotch asks. "Do you know him?"

"No, but I knew his wife. Two years ago, she was driving home from work and was killed by a drunk driver."

"That could be the tragedy."

"She was the love of his life, that's for sure."

Penelope digs into the Judge's life to see what kind of dirty secrets he has.

"Twelve months ago, Judge Shuller took a leave of absence due to health issues. He was diagnosed with terminal cancer. He has six months to live. That's when the killings started."

"You don't seriously think Judge--"

"Judge Schuller is the planner. Yes, I do," Rossi cuts off the detective. "It fits the profile, and Tony Mecacci is most likely Bosola the Enforcer. What have you got on Bosola?"

"He went off the grid after his last trial," Penelope answers.

"JJ put out a statewide APB and release Mecacci's photo to the media," Hotch orders, and she leaves to do it.

"Judge Schuller's a highly-respected man. We can't just walk in there and accuse him of serial murder."

"Then I'll go to the attorney general and petition the Chief Justice if I have to."

Rossi looks behind Hotch to see Judge Schuller walk right into the police station as if he knew the team was talking about him.

"Maybe not."

"I believe you're looking for me," the Judge says.

Judge Schuller is taken to an interrogation room to be questioned by Rossi and Derek.

"You know we have to advise you of your rights," Derek says and sits across from him.

"I waive my constitutional rights against self-incrimination."

"When you walked in here, you said, 'I believe you're looking for me'."

"Yes."

"Your timing was impeccable, but how could you know that?"

"I knew it wouldn't take you long to find me. Not after what I've left behind."

"So, you don't deny any of this?" Derek asks.

"Why would I? What you see as a crime, I see as justice."

"Ray Finnegan was a friend of mine," Rossi glares.

"Ray Finnegan was a criminal. You should choose your friends more wisely."

"It must have really thrown you when Ray showed up at Emma's funeral."

This pisses Judge Schuller off, and he slams his hands angrily onto the table.

"How do you know about my wife?"

"You have absolutely no idea who I am, do you?"

Ray told Rossi that everyone only meets Bosola once. That means Judge Schuller had to have given Bosola a list of names. He would never have to meet him again, just to make final payments on proof of death which he can send electronically. If anyone can get into Schuller's personal files and financial record, it would be Penelope. She has to do it quickly before everything gets shut down.

Detective Gill made a call to Schuller's office a few hours ago and told them they had two suspects, which means he knows what the police know. Schuller knows the FBI is onto him, which means he didn't come here for a confession. He has a list, and there is more to come.

He came here to stall.

"Can we just get on with what I came here for?" Judge Schuller sighs.

"Why? So Bosola can go on and carry on whatever it is you asked him to do? No. You call him and you end this," Derek says.

"Even if I could, I wouldn't."

"She was born Emma Louise Taylor on the 4th of July, 1958," Rossi reminisces.

"You could get that from anywhere," Schuller glares at Rossi.

"When she was six, her dad bought her a black and white homeless kitten."

"No, if she knew you, she would have told me."

"She named it Oscar," Rossi continues, "after Oscar Wilde. Out of all of Oscar's work, she loved an ideal husband the most."

The judge is getting angrier by the minute the longer Rossi talks about his wife.

"I don't know how you know all of this about Emma or what you hope to achieve, but we're done. You know the charges. Charge me."

"Is that what started all this insanity? Emma's death?"

"What started all of this was the thirty-five years I had to sit and watch as the system I swore an oath to protect failed the very people our justice system was meant to protect!"

"I wonder what Emma would make of all this."

"Every single person on that list deserves justice, and it's justice they managed to evade," Schuller shouts.

"So, you do have a list?" Rossi smirks.

"I'm finished talking."

Rossi and Derek continue to work over Judge Schuller while Emily is in another room talking to Penelope over video chat. Spencer isn't in the room because she managed to convince him to take a lap or two around the building to clear his head or try to.

"Hey, where's Spence? How is he doing?" Emily asks when she notices the lack of Spencer's presence.

"He's not doing too good. He doesn't have the hands-on work like you guys have to keep him distracted. It's killing him knowing Y/N's in jail for something she didn't do."

"Yeah, I know. It's hard on us, too. We don't talk about it but I know we're all thinking about it. Hotch will fix it once we're back, I know it."

"Yeah, me too."

"So, what did you find out about Judge Schuller?"

"We've got loads of two-way traffic going on, which means someone is trying to bounce us out."

"Okay, Bosola doesn't come cheap, so Judge Schuller had to have made some pretty substantial transactions."

"I've got wire transfers to a Cayman Island bank, and that's where the trace ends."

"How many and how much?"

"In June, he debits numerations of nine thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine dollars every few days four separate times. Then, he takes a break for a few weeks until he makes his final transaction for the same magic number. Anything less than ten thousand dollars keeps the IRS off your trail."

"So, the final payment must be for proof of death. That makes fifty-thousand dollars the price of a kill."

"He did that three times over a period of twelve months, but two days ago, he raised his account for a hundred thousand dollars all in one hit. He also closed all his accounts and handed his entire estate over to a victim's support group." Penelope gasps in shock and groans in frustration. "Someone who isn't suffering from too many brainiacs in the high-tech kitchen just bounced us out."

"Good job," Emily praises and hangs up. She returns to Hotch to tell him her findings. "If our calculations are correct, there are two more names on that list."

"There are."

Hotch replays the footage from the interrogation from when Emily was on the phone with Penelope.

"Every single person on that list deserves justice," Judge Schuller says and looks at his watch yet again.

"He said deserves, not deserved. Look right there. He looks at his watch for the second time. Whatever he's waiting for is about to happen."

"I don't think you knew Emma at all," Rossi continues to antagonize him. "At least not the one I knew. I made an excuse for myself that I wouldn't be welcome at her funeral. The truth is, I couldn't face it."

"You knowing Emma changes nothing."

"Oh, but it does. Emma changed the lives of everyone she knew, but at least Ray and I saw her death for what it truly was--a tragic accident."

"Dan Patton was drunk. He murdered Emma as surely as if he put a gun to her head!" Judge Schuller yells.

"Is that why his photo's not here? You're saving the best for last? How many other people have you targeted? I want the truth."

"I have nothing more to say."

"I do. I ran into Emma a few years ago at a hotel in Manhattan. I was working on a case and so was she. I knew she was married, but I didn't care."

Judge Schuller knows what Rossi is implying and he refuses to accept that his wife was cheating on him.

"No, she wouldn't... Emma would not do that to me. You're lying."

"Am I?"

"I want the truth."

"You first."

The Judge sighs knowing he's cornered and decides to give it up.

"Dan Patton is the last one. There are no more. Now, tell me the truth."

"That night in Manhattan, she told me our connection was so strong that it could never happen only once, and I was fine with that."

Rossi leaves with a smirk on his face, and the judge is shocked. He shakes his head and looks at Derek who is still seated.

"At least you now know what kind of man you're working with."

"What kind of man are you?"

"I've had enough of seeing the guilty walk free of their sins."

"What about your sins?"

"I got cancer for mine."

Emily, Hotch, and Detective Gil went to Dan's apartment after checking the police department he works for. Turns out Bosola got to him before the FBI could. They found him with two bullet holes, one in the heart and one in the head, but also beaten to death. Bosola is nowhere to be found because he killed him and left immediately after like a professional hitman.

There's no way Bosola is getting off Long Island since the FBI has all ports, roads, and airports guarded to make sure he doesn't get away. Judge Schuller is being moved somewhere safer because he is a high-court judge, which makes this a federal case now. The FBI is taking over this one before more people get killed. If Dan is dead, then the judge's list is complete.

However, something isn't adding up.

The Judge gave away his entire estate and all his money, and he closed out his accounts and paid off his utility bills. He has cancer but he has six months left to live. Why would he pay off his bills now and give away everything he owns? Not to mention the one hundred thousand dollar payment for not one but two more kills. If Dan was killed, then there should be one more.

Usually, the judge waits for confirmation of death before sending the payment, but he knew he wasn't going to be around to see this last proof of death. He sent everything over because he was not making it ten feet out of the police station.

Bosola has one more kill to make before moving on to another client, and it's Judge Schuller himself. With a crowd of reporters and a bunch of bystanders, it's easy for him to blend into the crowd. He managed to shoot Schuller in the heart and escape without anyone seeing him.

Case closed. With that major distraction out of the way, everyone is now focused on you and your situation. No one has said a word or talked about it since Hotch arrived in Long Island, but he's been making calls since getting on the plane to figure out what he can do to help you out.

The first person to get back to him is the lawyer that your dad snagged for you. He got ahold of his contact information and asked nicely to be let into the loop since he is your boss.

"Steven? Did you hear anything?" Everyone knows what Hotch is talking about so they stop what they're doing and listen to his side of the conversation. Hotch looks visibly upset which isn't a good sign. "Are you sure? ... There's nothing you can do for her? ... What about bail? ... Is there anything I can do? ... Okay. I appreciate you calling me. Thanks."

"What did he say?" Derek is the first to ask.

Hotch looks down and tries to keep the anger and frustration off his face as much as he can. When he feels he's neutral, he looks up and addresses the team.

"Y/N is being transferred to Virginia Correctional Center for Women in Goochland awaiting trial and bail. He said they have everything they need to convict her, and it's not looking good. Whoever did this really wants her to suffer for it."

Everyone is sent into silence because no one can believe this.

"I have always found that mercy bears richer fruit than strict justice." - Abraham Lincoln

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

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onthewallwiththis · 1 month ago

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its ma birthday! my gift to u are some of my fave quotes I've gathered from tlou fanfics!!

suitcase full of stars - @barlowstreet

"Three out of ten," he says, picking her hands up and rubbing them between his. "You're rating my bite?" she wheezes in disbelief. It's the first thing she's said besides apologies since they got to the hospital. "Didn't even break skin. You could do better.

one of my absolute fave foster fics!! and between such whump, this made me giggle.

A hopeful stranger - @two-birds-alone-together

A long-suffering sigh "I swear you were born contrary." "Nope." Joel glares at her as she waggles her eyebrows at him. "It's a finely honed skill, Joel. I've had a lifetime of practice. You'll never be as contrary as me." She grins up at him, giggling when he takes the now-empty mug from her hands. Joel snorts. "Now that I believe."

I <3 book shop AU, I also quote this particular one to myself DAILY

Oh mirror in the sky, what is love? - @boopernatural

"Joel." she sets her fork down and turns to face him, expression ultra-serious. "I solemnly swear not to get black out drunk, or have sex, or break anything valuable. I may do a bunch of drugs, it just depends on what they offer me." "Downers if we're lucky," he says, going back to his breakfast. "What does that mean?" "It means finish your eggs."

when I tell you i CACKLED

Ellie Williams' guide to teenage rebellion - @simoncowellstits

"You don't get to talk fake lawyer." she crosses her arms. "you're supposed to be winning my fucking legal case so I don't need to hang out with Kim anymore! No offence, Kim." "None taken." Kim says from her position near the door.

'questions about J-Dog.' do he and Tommy shit-talk me? did he forget how to laugh and/or smile in a terrible amnesia incident? does he know a lot of facts about the cold war or is that just his vibe? what makes him so grumpy? Is it just an old age thing? why is he so weird all the time??? why can't he just act normal and choose a personality? why does he care if I told frank I couldn't have sex with my vampire boyfriend on their honeymoon because he was too freaky with it??

This whole fic is so damn funny. In between some of the most heart wrenching story and crazy realistic characterisation I found myself in tears of laughter. I also quote the twilight reference almost daily.

Let me be your shelter - @messydepressy95

Not to be dramatic or anything, but she's a child of divorce.

Still, Joel continues to teach her to drive, and Tommy keeps inviting himself to their lessons.

BEST ONE LINERS IN THIS FIC

Inordinary - @heroes-fading

"Mhm," Ellie nods. "That's why every love song you've ever written has been depressing as fuck. All the mutual-ness."

"Just because it isn't seventy percent oat milk doesn't make it shitty, Ellie." "Thats homophobic," she tells him, and he rolls his eyes again.

the inordinary-verse is full of incredible quotes SO FUNNY

Lessons in wayfinding - @penandinkprincess

"Why so fucking nosy about it?" "Fatal flaw, I'm afraid," he says with a theatrical sigh. "Ask Joel. I had all the good gossip at family reunions."

Uncle Tommy is the root of most of my day to day happiness.

ANYWHO! I have so many more of these quotes saved, you'll never know when I'll strike again.

Pls lmk if you want me to remove a tag or quote <3

#tlou fanfiction #ellie tlou #i love fanfic writers #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #ao3 fanfic #ellie williams #joel miller #uncle tommy

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ysmtttty · 4 months ago

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Red Ferrari

Chapter 14

Summary: Azris AU, where Azriel is a mechanic and has his own service station. One day, Eris comes there because something is wrong with his car

AO3 link Chapter 13 Chapter 15

"Az, we’re going to the bar," Cassian declared firmly as Azriel was changing after his shift. "And before you say that you and your lawyer have plans tonight, I’ve already called him and told him you’re busy."

Azriel stopped and looked at him as if he were an idiot. "You did what?"

Cassian, who never once thought he’d done anything wrong, just shrugged, as if to say he thought it was the most logical thing and had no intention of apologizing. And yes, now Azriel had no excuse to get out of it.

"I need a group chat with him and Feyre," he joked. "You and Rhys never cross paths."

"Eris would block you and the chat in a second," Azriel said, certain that this wasn’t an exaggeration. He was surprised that Eris even picked up Cassian’s call in the first place. Sometimes, he forgot those two even had each other’s numbers.

"I’m sure he likes me," Cassian waved it off, and Azriel just scoffed. "I’m your best friend, how could he not like me?"

Azriel almost said that Eris doesn’t like people in general but decided not to shatter his friend’s delusions. Instead, he finished changing, buttoning up the last buttons on his shirt, and tried to convince himself that one night at the bar wouldn’t kill him.

"Is Rhys going?" he asked, wanting to confirm his suspicion. Cassian just nodded with a clear "yep," not seeing any problem. Well, this would be an interesting evening.

Realizing he truly had no excuse this time—Cassian had genuinely surprised him by calling Eris—Azriel resigned himself to his fate. Ten minutes later, they were speeding down the road toward the bar, with Rhysand supposedly waiting for them there.

"Where are we even going?" Azriel asked, noticing that the route didn’t lead to their usual spots. The area was more like the kind where Eris would drink with business partners, clients, or other big shots.

"No idea," Cassian shrugged. "Rhys picked the place. He just sent me the address, so I’m driving there. But yeah, I’m a bit shocked too."

"Do you think the bill for drinks will be deducted from our bonus?" Azriel quipped

"If that’s his plan, I’m quitting," Cassian laughed, turning right.

While Cassian drove, Azriel managed to text Eris.

"Traitor." Short and to the point, and well-deserved.

Eris read the message immediately. Three dots appeared, indicating he was typing, and Azriel could already imagine what his bastard would say.

"Haven’t heard you being out with friends in a while," Eris wrote instead of his expected sarcastic comment. "Besides, I’m swamped with this case. I’m staying at the office anyway."

Azriel frowned at the message. "That bad?"

He could picture Eris sighing and rubbing his eyes. "Luckily, the hearing is tomorrow, and it’ll all be over," Eris replied.

After finishing their exchange by telling Eris to call anytime if he needed, to which Eris responded that Azriel would likely be too drunk to talk coherently within the next hour, Azriel put his phone away.

Cassian, meanwhile, was shifting his gaze between the phone’s GPS and the road, trying not to accidentally crash into one of the many expensive cars around them. And there were plenty of those here.

After five minutes of missed turns and another five minutes of fighting for a parking spot—Cassian had almost parked when some jerk in a Porsche beat him to it, prompting him to get out and start a pointless argument, which Azriel managed to talk him out of—they finally arrived at their destination.

The bar turned out to be some kind of upscale place. It could be already told by the cars in the parking lot what kind of crowd was inside, and clearly, they didn’t quite fit in with this atmosphere. Azriel was the first to figure out where to go, and soon they found Rhysand, who greeted them with a smile.

"If this is our version of a work party, I’ll take my share in cash," Azriel joked.

"It’s not a work party," Rhysand shook his head, leading them to their table. "Just decided to try a new place."

Cassian whistled, looking at the menu, but Rhysand reassured them that tonight’s outing was on him and no, he wouldn’t deduct anything from their paychecks or bonuses. Besides, if it were a work event, they’d have to bring Amren along. Despite her age, she would definitely mess with the accounting if they didn’t invite her, just to spite Rhysand.

"But what’s the occasion for this unexpected generosity?" Cassian asked as they ordered the first round of shots.

Rhysand shrugged again. "Just in a good mood."

"The occasion is either Feyre agreed to marry you, or you finally sealed that deal with the parts company," Azriel snorted, glancing toward the bar where the waitress was preparing their order.

"Proposing is still at least six months away," Rhysand rolled his eyes, "and no, those Chinese bastards still aren’t agreeing to our prices. But, maybe you’ll like this news—the shitshow with Mor is finally over."

While Cassian didn’t fully grasp the magnitude of what Rhysand had just said, Azriel stared at him, trying to understand what exactly he meant by those words. Because according to Eris, their divorce wasn’t final until next week, so either something else had happened today that he didn’t know about, or Rhysand had suddenly taken up celebrating prematurely, which was never his habit.

"What do you mean?" Azriel asked, trying not to frown.

Rhysand, either now realizing the seriousness of the topic or just out of tact, adopted a more solemn expression. "Her father was arrested. Mor’s leaving for Europe next week. A win if you ask me."

"And what does her father have to do with this?" Azriel raised an eyebrow. He didn’t want this to be a test, but it was. As much as he wanted to trust Rhysand, he needed to compare his version with what he already knew, just to be sure.

"Keir’s a piece of trash, that’s what," Rhysand muttered with a hint of irritation. Cassian, who had been trying to follow the conversation but had given up, was now fully immersed in texting someone—most likely someone named Nesta Archeron—but Azriel didn’t blame him. The situation with Mor was a tangled mess. And both of them still weren’t too thrilled with her company.

"That’s not an answer to my question," Azriel pointed out as the waitress arrived with a tray of six shots, setting them down on the table. After clinking glasses with the others and downing his drink, Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who seemed to be quickly thinking of an excuse.

"Let’s talk about it later," Rhysand suggested instead.

Cassian distracted them both by insisting on another round of shots, and Azriel allowed himself to get sidetracked.

As they drank and laughed, the tension between him and Rhysand seemed to ease with each shot. Maybe it was the alcohol. Cassian, on the other hand, was enthusiastically recounting how he and Nesta were planning to take a short trip and that he needed some time off.

Rhysand told him that if Amren approved his vacation request, he could go wherever he wanted. Azriel laughed, knowing how hard it was to get time off from Amren. He was lucky that when he took his vacation, he didn’t care if he got fired or not. Cassian didn’t seem too intimidated by the condition, apparently thinking that he’d just ask Nesta to come with him to the workshop. With all due respect to the elderly, Nesta Archeron could win any battle of wills, even against the stubborn Amren.

"So, everything’s good with you two?" Azriel smiled, listening to another of Cassian’s stories about how he and Nesta had signed up for dance lessons together.

"Better than ever," Cassian grinned widely. "By the way, the Valkyries have a concert next weekend. You guys should come."

Seeing that Rhysand was reluctantly eyeing them, clearly about to come up with some excuse not to go, Cassian added, "Feyre’s going, by the way."

"Well, who am I to not support her favorite band," Rhysand forced a smile, and Azriel and Cassian laughed at him.

Cassian’s car keys suddenly jingled, indicating that the alarm had been triggered.

"Great," Cassian grumbled, getting up from his seat.

"Sit down, Rhys and I will check it out," Azriel stopped him with a gesture, taking the car fob from his hands. "You’re three shots ahead and can’t control your temper. We’ll deal with it if some rich jerk hit your car."

Cassian grumbled something after them as Azriel and Rhysand left. On their way out, Azriel bumped into someone coming toward him, but the person didn’t say anything in response to his apology and just walked on. Some people were just jerks.

They made it to the parking lot and looked around. Sure enough, some young guy was standing there, assessing a dent. The damage to Cassian’s car was minor, just a bit of paint would cover it up. Of course, that’s not what two experienced mechanics told the rich kid.

After getting enough compensation from him and giving him a business card to help fix his own car, Azriel and Rhysand shared a quiet laugh as they walked away.

"Poor guy,” Azriel chuckled. "Of course," Rhysand snorted, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one up.

"What about Keir?" Azriel asked, deciding that the “later” in “we’ll talk later” had finally arrived.

Rhysand took a long drag, exhaled the smoke, and looked at him with visible weariness and regret. "I can tell you’re not thrilled with me. Helping Mor, of all people."

"I never said that."

"You didn’t need to," Rhysand smiled sadly. "I know I messed things up. I honestly hoped it would all blow over easily, but then you started seeing Vanserra. And as much as I dislike that bastard, I saw that you were happy with him. Hell, Az, you were finally thinking about how to plan a date. When was the last time Cass and I saw you like that?"

Azriel snorted, refusing to answer. Maybe things with Eris were more serious from the start than he had thought.

"And that's why you didn’t tell me about him and Mor, I’ve heard this already," he said, trying to speak without his previous irritation over the situation.

"I couldn’t abandon Mor, and I didn’t want to ruin your life because of my wretched family," Rhysand sighed, taking another drag.

"Why Mor?" Azriel asked bluntly. "Is the family bond really that strong?"

"Her father is a dangerous man, you probably know that yourself. Keir… found ways to persuade me to help his daughter. Initially, the goal was to prevent them from divorcing at all, but later, he just wanted to extract as much money as possible. Mor would have received only a small part, while her father would have paid off his debts."

"Mor doesn’t know about this, I assume?"

Rhysand shook his head. "I didn’t know what to do, Az."

"You could’ve told us, Rhys," Azriel raised his gaze, meeting Rhysand's genuinely confused eyes. "You have me, Cassian. We would’ve figured something out. You don’t always have to play the martyr."

"It was supposed to stay a family matter, something I didn’t want to drag you or Cassian into," Rhysand paused, stubbed out his cigarette on the wall, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. "But now it’s over, Keir’s been arrested, and from what I hear, he’s facing a long sentence. Even his connections probably won’t help."

Azriel didn’t mention who was handling Keir's case. "And you and Mor aren’t dependent on him anymore," he said instead.

Rhysand finally smiled, relaxing as he nodded. "The old bastard’s getting what he deserves. Mor will get her money and leave, and I doubt she’ll ever decide to return. I’m sure Vanserra’s happy to know that too."

Azriel remained silent, unsure of what to say, but nodded. "Let’s go inside. Cass is probably freaking out about what happened to his car by now."

***

Eris visited the detention center once again, intending to make this his last trip. Not in some sinister, murderous way, but because he was tired and wouldn’t return before the trial.

With each visit, Keir looked worse. Perhaps Eris should’ve felt a little sympathy, but... nothing. No sympathy for this man, only the genuine amusement of seeing a once-powerful businessman getting used to life behind bars.

"Let’s try this again," Eris said, clasping his hands together. "Your alibi?"

Keir glared at him, ready to say for the third time that he couldn’t discuss his alibi. Whatever it was, it was likely either illegal, something he didn’t want to trust Eris with, or personal, but equally incriminating.

"Holding back information from your lawyer isn’t the best idea," Eris remarked dryly, looking at Keir with indifference. Just a few more days, and it would all be over, at least with him. Morrigan was about to divorce him, and Beron was supposed to return to his hometown. Everything seemed both too simple and desirable.

"An alibi won’t help," Keir said darkly instead of giving a real answer. So, illegal activity.

Rather than pushing further, Eris switched to another topic, flipping through the papers provided by the police. The file was now filled with various documents, from autopsy results to details about the jurors who would be present in court.

"Why am I getting information that you were at the victim’s house the day before the murder?" Eris raised an eyebrow.

"Me and Liam had something to discuss," Keir replied evasively. Better than nothing, but still not enough.

"And you were supposed to continue the conversation the next day," Eris finished for him. "His assistant mentioned that Liam had a meeting scheduled with you."

"It was a personal meeting."

"Personal enough for you to kill him?"

"We signed a contract that you would help me," Keir nearly growled. "So stop accusing me of something I didn’t do."

Eris, knowing that Keir was innocent, was just doing it to be petty. The poor guy had nowhere to go anyway, but until Eris’s tech team confirmed that all compromising material had been truly destroyed, Keir was still his problem. What better way to take revenge on his dear father-in-law for all the crap he had pulled over the years, especially in the last few months?

"We did, but that doesn’t mean I fully believe you," Eris smirked, pushing him even further, enjoying the pulsing vein on Keir’s forehead from frustration and helplessness. "Nevertheless, I’m doing everything to help you. All we need to do is convince the judge and jury that the police evidence isn’t strong enough to make any accusations."

"Or give them another scapegoat," Keir muttered thoughtfully. Eris didn’t bother telling him that, in this case, he was the scapegoat, letting Keir believe he had come up with a brilliant idea.

"You want to frame someone?" Eris asked dryly.

"I could find a suitable bum quickly if they let me make a call," the gears in Keir’s mind were visibly turning. Eris watched with amusement. "But they won’t allow me, so you’ll have to make the call."

Eris wasn’t surprised by the commanding tone, though a simple "please" would’ve been appropriate. Not that he particularly wanted to hear it, but still.

"Don’t act like you still need convincing," Keir grumbled, seeing Eris's reluctance to follow his plan. "Failure in this case will hurt your career, boy, you know that yourself. And with our contract, you can’t escape far, so let’s not pretend that pulling a few strings is beneath your principles."

"In this case, I have no principles," Eris smirked.

***

"You can’t just bail him out!" That painfully familiar, nasty female voice greeted him the moment Eris walked into his office. Mor was pacing in circles, glaring at him with a gaze as sharp as a knife.

"And good evening to you," he smirked crookedly, taking off his coat and hanging it on a hook. Mor was still pacing, clearly about to wear a hole in the carpet. "I thought you left the city."

"I did!" she confirmed indignantly and finally stopped, looking at him. Eris suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "And I came back to finish the last bit of business. Besides, our divorce is coming soon, and I need my money."

"Which I’ll give you after I see that you’re officially no longer connected to me."

"And that’s why you can’t release my father," she said.

Eris quietly snorted at her certainty that her opinion mattered at all to him. He calmly walked to his safe, storing away the necessary files before locking it up, just in case Mor got the bright idea to break in and steal documents. Knowing her, he suspected such a dumb idea might cross her mind.

Mor crossed her arms and watched his every move. She looked anxious. Beneath her irritating, commanding nature, there was desperation, which Eris could see all too clearly. In terms of terrible fathers, they understood each other well enough, if that understanding could mean anything.

He understood how important it was for Mor that Keir remained behind bars and couldn’t interfere with her semi-romantic escape to Paris or wherever else she planned to go. But helping her now with empty promises wasn’t something he could do, nor should he have to.

"Postpone the hearing, at least for a week," she almost pleaded. Eris sighed, sitting down in his chair and looking at her. "We’re divorcing, I’m taking my money and leaving. You’ll never see me again, and I’ll never ruin your life."

"It’s funny you think you could’ve ruined my life," Eris smiled sardonically, crossing his legs. "You’re too late, Morrigan. The hearing is tomorrow, and it can’t be postponed," he held up a hand before she could protest, "I’m not pulling any strings for you. You don’t evoke any sympathy from me; quite the opposite, I have every reason to ignore your needs entirely and leave you without any money if I choose. Don’t think that what you’re getting comes from any sympathy for your situation, it’s simple human decency. And as much as I don’t believe it myself, you are human."

He paused, letting his words sink into Mor’s mind. He could see it in her darting eyes, actively trying to come up with something to say or do, calculating a new plan on how to act.

"My father could have killed that man," she said quietly. "Even if it wasn’t him, how many others died because of him?"

"If this is an appeal to my conscience, I’ve defended people worse than your father."

"Then to hatred, you don’t love him any more than I do."

"Your desperation is understandable, but I don’t care," Eris cut her off, watching as she pressed her lips into a thin line and clenched her jaw. Her long nails dug into her palms as she balled her hands into fists, and he simply nodded towards the door, indicating that their meeting was over. Otherwise, he’d have to call security, but either Morrigan found her reason or it was her pride because she left the room, leaving him alone.

Soon after came a message from Azriel calling him a traitor, and Eris smiled. He truly smiled, because in this endless day of madness, something normal had finally appeared. Someone worth enduring another day for.

As he had written to Azriel, Eris stayed the night at the office. He hadn’t spent money on a good fold-out bed for nothing, even though he didn’t use it often. In the morning, he stopped by his penthouse for another suit and took a shower before heading straight to court.

Keir was waiting there, handcuffed but surprisingly neat in appearance. Eris gestured for the officer to leave them alone for a while. After the officer left, Eris glanced at Keir.

"You have half an hour to hold up your end of the deal," he reminded him.

Keir only grimaced and nodded. "I instructed my people to delete all the files."

"And I’m supposed to take your word for it?" Eris scoffed.

"How do you suggest I prove I have nothing left?" Keir snapped indignantly.

Eris was about to reply when a message from the tech team came through, confirming that they had checked and all materials were successfully deleted, including from several backup servers and storage units.

"Luckily for you, there’s no need to prove anything," he said. "I think it’s time to introduce you to your lawyer."

Keir’s expression was indescribable. A man entered the room, and Eris handed him a briefcase full of papers. Keir’s face turned pale, and Eris could bet his blood froze in his veins.

"You–!"

"Before we start throwing around accusations about who screwed whom over," Eris smirked, "it’s worth asking: did you really think we could legally certify a contract on illegal activity? And even if so, I did my part. We never specified the duration of my work or my exact role. As a lawyer? I failed. But as an administrative assistant to Adrian, I helped as much as I could."

Patting Adrian—or maybe Andrew, Eris didn’t remember—on the shoulder, he walked out, leaving Keir shouting after him, calling him a bastard and all other sorts of names and threats.

Everything went just as he had promised Keir—without principles or morals, he just didn’t specify for whom those morals would be lacking.

After leaving the courthouse, Eris dialed his father’s number, informing him that he had dealt with Keir. Eris didn’t intend to go into details about what should happen next, but knowing his father, he understood that Beron wouldn’t stop at just what Eris had done.

And he was right because, three days later, Keir was killed in a "prison brawl." But that was no longer his problem.

***

Eris thought divorce would feel different. Maybe a sense of lightness, the absence of chains. But here they were, he and Morrigan, leaving the court after their long-awaited divorce, and he felt nothing. Except for the realization that he was about to lose a few more million dollars.

Despite his dislike for Morrigan’s company, Eris opened the car door for her to get in and then took the driver’s seat himself.

"Remind me why you couldn’t just bring the case with the money with you?" Morrigan asked sarcastically.

Eris adjusted the rearview mirror, turned the key in the ignition, and started the engine, glancing at her with a crooked smile.

"Probably because I don’t usually walk around the city with that kind of money," he replied just as sarcastically. "Or maybe I’m just scamming you."

Morrigan pressed her lips into a thin line, and Eris was glad for the ensuing silence in which they drove to his penthouse. He had no intention of cheating her out of the money. As it turned out, her bastard father left her almost nothing—except for debts from casinos, which quickly drove Morrigan’s family out of the city, leaving her alone.

With a family like that, who needs enemies, Eris thought. Out of safety concerns, he paid off a few of the more dangerous debts, knowing that Morrigan’s cousin would be at the top of their hit list. And despite his disdain for that smug idiot, Eris didn’t want Azriel attending funerals because of it.

Once they reached his penthouse and took the elevator up, Eris unlocked the door and let Morrigan inside. She settled on the couch while he opened the safe and pulled out the pre-prepared case.

"I assume you’re not staying for your father’s funeral?" he asked, handing her the case. Morrigan took it and scoffed, wrinkling her nose at the very thought of staying one more day.

"And make myself a target for collectors? No, thanks," she said, opening the case and counting the stacks of money. "You lied to me back then when I was begging you not to bail him out, didn’t you?"

Eris crossed his arms, watching as Morrigan methodically counted her money.

"I couldn’t take the risk of you knowing what my plan was," he said dryly. "Have you picked your destination?"

"I can’t risk telling you, but yes," she smiled, snapping the case shut. "I’m sure Emerie will like it."

"Don’t blow this money," he said sarcastically.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "I solemnly swear not to blow Eris Vanserra’s money on drugs. Besides, with the move and job search, I doubt Em and I will have time for that."

Eris couldn’t help but notice that even through her disdain for him, there was joy in Morrigan’s voice. And damn him for the fact that, for the first time in a long time, it reminded him of the Morrigan who two years ago could share drinks with him in the evenings, and they were something like friends. The Morrigan who had once been a frightened girl in a messed-up world. Not the woman who tried to take his apartment, his car, and threatened to turn Azriel over to Beron.

"Then goodbye," he said simply.

Morrigan looked up at him, her gaze full of everything—from disdain and old anger to a certain regret. Or maybe he was just sleep-deprived and imagining things.

"Goodbye," she said, rising back onto her heels, and with the characteristic click of her shoes, she left his apartment, leaving Eris in silence.

Immediately after, his phone rang. Azriel called, just as Eris had expected, and he smiled at his name flashing on the screen.

"How does it feel to be divorced?" Azriel joked.

"I think that’s worth celebrating." Eris chuckled softly.

"Oh, how convenient that I’m already on my way to your place with food."

"And how convenient that I’ve already sent the housekeeper home and am about to find us some drinks for the evening."

"Very convenient," Azriel replied with amusement and hung up, appearing at his doorstep ten minutes later.

Greeting him with a kiss and setting the bags of Chinese food on the table, Azriel found glasses in his kitchen while Eris took out a bottle of wine from his collection. Now he felt all the benefits of divorce.

As they sat at the table and Eris diligently guarded his potstickers, which Azriel occasionally tried to steal from his plate, Azriel carelessly ate dumplings and talked about work in the workshop, mentioning which parts contracts should be renegotiated and which clients could be unbearable.

"I hope you told your... friend to skip the invitation to the funerals," Eris said, pausing before the word "friend," still not fully wanting to believe that jerk was Azriel’s best friend. Even if Azriel seemed much happier since Rhysand had finally explained things and now they were more open to reconnecting.

"Rhys isn’t an idiot," Azriel replied.

"Sure," Eris responded skeptically, earning a kick under the table. "I’m just worried about your boss. Who knows whose hands your little business will fall into if he kicks the bucket."

"Let’s not talk about the hypothetical death of my best friend on a night we’re supposed to be celebrating."

"Yes, less talk about the pleasant hypothetical things," Eris nodded, receiving another softer kick.

Azriel stole one of his potstickers, taking advantage of the moment, and Eris only rolled his eyes and placed two more on his plate. "Idiot, we could have just ordered more."

"It was more fun that way," Azriel responded with a glint in his eyes and a smirk, and Eris just kissed him, unable to resist the desire and not even pretending to be irritated.

That same week, Eris found himself driving up to the bar where he and Azriel had their second date. Not that he really liked the place. The date? It had gone great. The place itself? They could have picked better.

"Remind me why I agreed to this?" he huffed while Azriel drove his car, trying to find a parking spot.

"Because you're a good boyfriend?" Azriel teased. Eris rolled his eyes. "Or maybe because I'm persuasive."

"More like you convince me when I'm most vulnerable."

"I didn’t ask during sex."

"Of course, sex is your first thought."

"Try moving your hand off my thigh, and maybe I could think about something else."

They grumbled at each other for a few more minutes while Azriel parked the car, but eventually, they headed toward the bar. Eris tried not to wrinkle his nose at everything. The first time they had come here, he just wanted them to become a thing, but now, he didn’t need to worry about that anymore. So, his snobbish nature wasn’t going to stay hidden.

"It’s not that bad," Azriel smirked, nudging him in the ribs.

"I’ll pretend I’m fine with it and just take you to a charity gala next time," Eris grinned sarcastically, knowing that social events weren’t something Azriel found appealing.

They walked to their table, where Cassian and Rhysand were already seated. Nesta was standing over the table, chatting with Cassian, and her sharp features didn’t seem as harsh. Eris suspected it was because of that brainless mechanic, who for some reason, seemed charming to Nesta, the sister he thought was the most rational out of the Archeron siblings.

If you asked Eris, nothing was charming about Cassian, but the softness in Nesta's eyes was undeniable. He wondered if the same was happening to him, and how noticeable it was to others.

"Hey, buddy," Cassian greeted him warmly, catching him in a bear hug before Eris could dodge it.

"Hey," he replied, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Azriel was barely holding back his laughter.

Nesta greeted him as well, and he exchanged dry nods with Rhysand, though no one paid much attention to the tension. Azriel went off to fetch Gwyn, who had been eager to meet Eris in person, and Nesta and Cassian excused themselves too, claiming they were going to check the microphone on stage—which Eris seriously doubted was their true intention.

So, he was left sitting at the table with the smug jerk. Wonderful.

"You’re welcome, by the way," Eris said, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket, pretending to be indifferent.

"For what?" Rhysand asked.

"For fixing your problem with Keir."

"Then you know I have nothing personal against you."

Eris narrowed his eyes, studying Rhysand’s slippery nature. "I’ll need more proof of that. But for now, I’ll tolerate you. Only for Azriel’s sake."

"To Azriel, then," Rhysand smirked dryly, raising his glass. Eris didn’t argue and drank as well.

After that, both of them sat on their phones, not even bothering to pretend they enjoyed each other’s company. Thankfully, Azriel soon returned with Gwyn, who first looked Eris over and then smiled.

"Cool suit," she said.

"Cool guitar," he replied, nodding at the instrument slung over her shoulder.

"I like him," Gwyn said to Azriel with a grin, patting him on the shoulder. "I have to run, but we’ll chat later, pretty boys!"

She dashed toward the stage, and Azriel wished her good luck before sitting back down next to Eris. Rhysand finally put down his phone when Cassian returned, and the tension between him and Eris became almost unnoticeable.

A little later, Feyre joined them, with Rhysand going to greet her. Eris might have been surprised that the Archeron sisters hadn’t brought Elain along, but he knew Lucien had planned some weekend trip for the two of them. Judging by the amount of money Eris had lent him, they were definitely not at a cheap bar right now.

"Nice to meet you, Eris," Feyre smiled after introducing herself. Eris had only seen the youngest Archeron sister once in passing, but apparently, they hadn’t officially met.

"Likewise," he smiled back, deliberately holding her hand in the handshake a little longer, just to annoy Rhysand, who was glaring at him the entire time his precious girlfriend spoke to Eris.

Azriel chuckled softly at that, throwing an arm over Eris’s shoulder as he sat back down beside him. The five of them sat for a while, just talking. Mostly it was Feyre and Cassian keeping the conversation going, trying to engage everyone. It was a bit awkward at times, but the rest appreciated their efforts.

Eris wanted to ask if Nesta and Gwyn had found a new drummer, but he didn’t get the chance because the Valkyries took the stage in their full, unchanged lineup. He noticed that both Azriel and Rhysand were looking at the stage in surprise—there, behind the drum set, was Emerie.

"Do you think…?" Azriel leaned in to whisper in his ear, but Eris shook his head.

"She’s gone," he said. He had his people make sure of it, and Mor had indeed left the city last night. It was highly unlikely that Emerie had stayed another day just for the concert.

Azriel only nodded, squeezing his hand. Eris, however, tried to control his mind, reminding himself who Morrigan was and how much damage she had caused in his life. Yet, a foolishly sentimental part of him still felt a pang of sympathy.

Those thoughts quickly faded, though, as Cassian cheered for his girlfriend, loudly singing along as if he had the microphone, not Nesta.

"Is he always like this?" Eris grimaced, whispering to Azriel, who just laughed.

"You’d sing along for me too," he smiled.

"Would I? Please, I’d never embarrass myself like that," Eris scoffed.

Azriel only stole a kiss from his lips. "Maybe not as loudly, but we both know I’m right."

tag list: @sizzlingstarlightsky @isnotwhatyourethinking @molcat07 @chairofchaos @lilah-asteria @acourtofbatboydreams

#eris vanserra #acotar #azris #azriel shadowsinger #azris fanfiction #azriel #azris supremacy #modernau #azriel x eris #eris x azriel

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science-lings · 10 months ago

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Elaborations under the cut

1- based off of the official art where half the time he's drinking he's just passed out or he's just smiling at nothing. I can see him becoming a functioning alcoholic who drinks mostly because it helps him sleep but I don't think he would want to be that vulnerable in his daily life, especially when hanging out with Kristoph.

2- He was just as spikey as a baby, but also the style seems intentional rather than just how it grows.

3- PW vs PL reference? idk the vibe that in an alternate timeline where he forgets that he's a lawyer he becomes a baker with Maya is just fun so I think he just likes baking in general. Also, I'm a sucker for those AUs where he's a baker. He seems like the type to get stuck in his head while kneading bread dough and regularly makes those kinds of breads that have to basically be beat up to get his anger out. No therapy, only bread.

4- This feels self-explanatory, he can also dance, at least in the way that he can pick up choreography and bullshit his way through any performance. I also think it would be sweet if he sang lullabies to Trucy while she was growing up.

5- There are multiple instances where he passes out from stress and his internal dialogue mentions that he's 'feeling lightheaded' like GIRL... GO TO THE DOCTOR. And he did but that meant that he can't drive in case he gets too stressed driving and passes out... which would not be good.

6- Again, self-explanatory, this man has an abnormal brain, good for him.

7- I don't exactly know what he has tattooed on him but I can see this guy, who is unaffected by pain and also an art major, having a few designs on him. Maybe a dragon winding around his shoulder or a few little silly things on his legs and arms. He doesn't really flaunt them and everyone gets surprised when its the combined prosecutors office and WAA beach day.

8- The magatama should make him look a little spooky, I think it would be fun. Also, I think he should use it to jumpscare anyone who is around while he is sneaking into his kitchen to eat baby carrots when he wants a midnight snack.

9- I've spoken about this before and I will probably do so again, I just think he needs an awful cat as a pet project when Trucy moves out and he gets lonely. It's a better outlet than trying to fix a person who might fake their death or try to poison him.

10- You cannot tell me that undefeated poker player extraordinaire isn't completely in control of his tells as much as he possibly can be. He can dodge questions and provide perfectly true but vague answers. I just think he can be so incredibly cagey and secretive when he has to be, even though he's typically pretty emotionally open. He learned it from Mia (Ms. 'didn't tell Phoenix she had a sister even though they've known each other for years' Fey)

#lmk if you want me to do this for other characters #i just had to start with the guy of all time #andromedas poll hell #ace attorney #phoenix wright

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detectiveguapo3 · 3 months ago

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Music To Watch Boys To

Chapter 2: Fuck it I love you

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

5:42 am

You think back to the drink you shared at the bar last night and the way he stared at you. You almost thought he could feel something more for you. Almost. Maybe, it was the vodka and you were just delusional. You glance over to the sleeping man in your bed, self-pity, and vodka so do not mix. You vaguely recall texting Chase “u up?” at 1 am as you left the bar. He was outside your door thirty minutes later wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a smug fucking smile. He annoyed you so much but in moments like this, he made you feel desirable. This is what normal people do, have regrettable drunk sex with questionable men, right? I mean who even needs love and intimacy when you’ve got an awesome job? Who wants a relationship to mess up and children to traumatize?

You walk to work, having placed all your faith on ibuprofen and coffee. He might be a fuck boy but hey, he makes good coffee. You notice that Amaro brought you a cup of coffee, great is this gonna be another thing, who’s even this fucking nice, you think angrily. He looks up from his desk and smiles at you, “Good morning.” You forget the ridiculous reason you were mad, that fucking smile, you wanted to melt but you compose yourself.

“How’d the interrogation go for Fin and Rollins?” you inquire.

“He immediately asked for a lawyer, Barba’s in there right now,” he said. “They’re cutting a deal?!” you whisper yelled.

“If he confesses to all there will be no need for a trial and his victims will have closure.” Nick replies. “What about the school, do you think they covered for him?” you wonder out loud.

“Maybe he’ll give them up to save his own ass.” Nick replies, then he asks, “Hey, where did you disappear to last night?”

You look at him and try to lie, “Uhm… I went home and slept early. Y'know, it was just one of those days where all you want to do is crawl into bed.” Apparently with your fuck buddy from college. He puts his hands on his waist, surely buying the bullshit you were selling.

Before you can dig yourself further into a hole, Barba walks into the bullpen and says exasperatedly, “He insists on having done nothing wrong.”

You reply, “Does he know the DNA matched his?”

“He claims it was consensual, and that she must have gotten mugged.” Barba replies.

Nick chimes in with, “She’s seventeen, she can’t legally consent.”

“He’s betting on the jury believing it's an honest mistake,” you guess, “we need to tie him to those other open cases.”

“I’ll update Liv.” Nick announces, heading for her office.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

3:09 am, Ohio

Today was supposed to be your day off but the sergeant sent you and Amaro to Ohio to retrieve the rape kits and have them tested in New York; while Amanda Rollins, who transferred from Georgia, and Fin were doing the same. You wake up from your nap in the car, you lose count of how long you’ve been on the road. You glance at him, hoping he thinks you’re still asleep. He looks so sad sometimes. He thinks he’s good at hiding it but you saw how the job affected him. He thinks he can save the whole wide world. He shows up for everyone and you just want to be that person for him. In a platonic, professional way. I totally wasn't falling for him. Uh oh, Oh no, oh I’m tot-. “You’re awake! You hungry?” he asks while getting in line at some fast food drive-through.

You get out of the car and head towards the motel to check in, you and Nick had been driving for almost nine hours. Truthfully, it was mostly Nick. “The NYPD put us in the same room, tell me you don’t snore.” you half-teased. After all that time in the car, you desperately needed a shower. You drop your bag and head towards the bathroom, “Dibs.” you call before shutting the door.

You awake the next morning to find his bed empty, you notice a note on the nightstand that reads, “went to get us bagels and coffee, meet me in the parking lot at 9”. You glance at the clock, it's 8:23. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he smiles as you get into the car, “you talk in your sleep by the way.” He looks over, you were too embarrassed to speak so you just shove a bagel in your mouth. You try to ask something but it comes out as gibberish. You swallow and try again, “Should we drop by the Ohio PD before reinterviewing the victims?”

He replies, trying his best not to laugh at you, “Yeah, we’ve got to check in with them, and get the necessary paperwork sorted.”

You leave Ohio at about 11 pm that night. Just before you reach New York, you stop at a diner for a bite. You discuss the case, and then Anastasia the movie. You recommended it a while back because it’s been your favourite since you were a kid.

“I watched it with Zara, she really liked it. I liked the talking bat.”

“Of course she did, I've repeatedly said my taste is superior. What about the music?”

He laughs and declares, “They should be on Broadway.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying! I hate that it's not more popular.” You pout dramatically.

You try your best to remind yourself that this is work, not a date. He was here with you because he had to be, not by choice; but then he’d peer at you with those fucking eyes and you’d forget to breathe.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

2:20 pm

You’re enjoying a quiet day off, rereading Pride and Prejudice. Your phone pings, a text message from Chase that reads, “Heyy :D)”. You ignore it, not in the mood for whatever it was that he was offering. It pings again, then again. You open it and read two new messages from Chase,

“What’s up?”

“Do u wanna get dinner later?”

Intrigued, you reply, “Maybe, what are we having?”

“Well u can have what my mama made :p ;)”

Is it possible to die via cringe? He continues, “jokin lol, I’ll cook. I’m told my pasta is not that bad”

“I’m in :)” you reply, what's the worst that could happen?

“I’ll send a car at 6”

Saturday, October 18, 2014

9:16 pm

You honestly can’t pretend you’re surprised he had you against the dining table, a hand up your dress. You barely touched your wine and for some reason, you just weren’t in the mood. You put your hand on his chest, shirt partially unbuttoned and you pull away from the kiss. You apologized and he said it was okay. You feel so dumb and wish you had stayed home. You decide to watch a movie instead. While he chooses a movie, you sip on your wine.

Sometime before the movie was over you had finished the entire bottle. You begin to drift off to sleep, naked and tangled up with him. You and Chase had been on and off since college, tonight was the first time you questioned if this was going somewhere. Did I want it to? Was this the key to getting over this totally inappropriate work crush? How much longer can I pretend that I didn’t fall for him?

#nick amaro #special victims unit #law and order svu #nick amaro x reader #nick amaro x you #music to watch boys to #nick amaro x female reader

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vivacissimx · 6 months ago

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i was thinking about how your viserra lives AU would me in a modern setting and honestly, its so interesting. the targaryen’s as a political, old money family (so arranged marriages would still be a thing), with jahaerys as the president/prime minister (or even a modern king), therefore aemon and baelon as his future political heirs who’ll run one day for presidency. alysanne as the beloved first lady, the nation’s ideal mother and wife, and her thing is “female empowerment”, etc. viserra, one of jahaerys’ enfant terribles, probably stalked by the media cause she def has that it girl factor. her horse-riding accident could be a drunk driving/racing accident, and she is sent north to marry theomore or to be hidden from the press. viserra’s women councils could lead her to become a lawyer focused on female rights or abuse cases, or in politics, as well. rich heir babygirl desmond being a rich nepo baby in politics probably. and daemon as another scandalous media badboy. and saera was probably sent to rehab or something similar instead of the silent sisters. have u ever thought about it ?

oh I spend between six minutes and two hours thinking about this every single day

#fic asks #asks #i have a very specific image of a stepmommy viserra situation where her and daemon are papped together after his recent DUI and she's got a #absolutely criminal thigh slit going on revealing her snakedragon tattoo while he's in a crop top. it's snowing but this is viv's idea of P

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mcginnlawfirm · 13 days ago

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What are punitive damages in a personal injury case?

When you're involved in a personal injury case, the compensation you might receive is usually intended to cover your losses—things like medical bills, lost wages, or emotional distress. However, there are times when the court decides that more than compensating you is necessary. That’s where punitive damages come into play.

Understanding Punitive Damages

Punitive damages aren’t like regular compensation. They’re not meant to pay you back for what you’ve lost. Instead, punitive damages are designed to punish the wrongdoer and deter them (or anyone else) from making similar mistakes.

For example, if the person responsible for your injury acted extremely recklessly or intentionally, the court might award punitive damages. These damages convey that this kind of behavior won’t be tolerated.

When Can You Seek Punitive Damages?

Punitive damages aren’t available in every personal injury case. Generally, you can only pursue them if the person who caused your injury acted with gross negligence or engaged in willful misconduct. Their actions must have gone beyond a typical accident or mistake.

Some situations where punitive damages might be awarded include:

Drunk driving accidents: If the person who hit you was driving under the influence, they could be seen as recklessly endangering lives.

Corporate wrongdoing: Companies that ignore safety standards or knowingly sell defective products may face punitive damages.

Intentional harm: If someone caused your injury on purpose, like in cases of assault, the court could order them to pay punitive damages.

If you're unsure whether your case qualifies for punitive damages, it's always a good idea to consult a personal injury lawyer. They can help you understand the details and whether pursuing punitive damages makes sense for your situation.

How Are Punitive Damages Calculated?

Unlike compensatory damages (tied directly to your losses), punitive damages don’t follow a strict formula. Instead, they’re typically based on factors like:

The severity of the wrongdoing

The amount needed to deter future misconduct

The defendant’s financial situation (wealthier defendants may be ordered to pay more in punitive damages)

The court wants to ensure that the punishment fits the crime, but it also doesn’t like excessive punitive damages. That's why many states, including Iowa and Nebraska, have caps on punitive damages, which means there's a limit to how much can be awarded.

Why Punitive Damages Matter in Personal Injury Cases

Punitive damages play an important role in the justice system. They help hold wrongdoers accountable and encourage people and businesses to act more responsibly. While they won’t always apply to your personal injury case, they can significantly increase your total compensation if they do.

In addition to helping you financially, punitive damages also have a broader impact by setting a precedent. For instance, if a company is forced to pay punitive damages for selling dangerous products, it might push other companies to be more cautious and prioritize safety.

How McGinn Law Firm Can Help You

Navigating a personal injury case is complicated, especially when punitive damages might be on the table. That's where McGinn Law Firm steps in. We know how stressful it can be to handle legal matters while recovering from an injury. Our team is experienced in handling cases involving punitive damages and can guide you through the entire process—from gathering evidence to negotiating settlements or representing you in court.

We’ll look at all the facts in your case to determine whether punitive damages apply and fight to get you the compensation you deserve. Plus, you’ll never have to worry about legal fees upfront—we only get paid when you do.

Call for Your Free Consultation

If you’ve been injured and believe punitive damages might apply in your case, don’t wait to get the legal support you need.

Visit McGinn Law Firm today to learn how we can assist you. We're ready to stand by your side and fight for your deserved compensation!

#mcginn law firm #personal injury lawyer #personal injury

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sunshine-on-marz · 2 years ago

Text

The name of justice

Part 1

Wilbur soot x Reader

Law AU

TW: mention of rape and drunk driving

Coming next: Spencer Reid x Reader

“Wilbur!” You heard your mentor, Lacey, call to the man you’d be working under. “Yes ma’am?” He asked playfully while setting a binder down on the table you’re sat at. “This is Y/N,you’ve met before I believe” Lacey said, gesturing to you. You flashed a smile in which the tall man returned. “Hello again” the brunette said, extended a hand to you. You shook it with a “hello!” before getting back to the document in front of you. “What’s this?” Wilbur asked, gently placing his finger on the staple. You swatted his hand away and started explaining. “These are the court documents for tomorrow, including evidence and background information on the defendant.” He seemed puzzled. “I understand everything else, but why do you need the background information?” The man asked, pulling up a seat next to you. “Well” you began “first of all, personal information can help aid in a confession, and it tells me stuff like this” you flipped the page before pointing to a line you’d highlighted. “..a DUI” he said, reading the line. You began “all charges dismissed, the jury never confirmed him innocent” Wilbur spoke “we can’t use that against him, his lawyer will call irrelevance” you moved your finger down to a different highlighted area. “He was called a usually ‘cool and collected man who thought things through’ by his wife when she spoke as a witness. He didn’t have any alcohol in his system during the arrest. We can definitely use that against him.” When you looked up he seemed to be in shock. “That… thats amazing work y/n. How old are you?” You smiled “20”. His jaw slacked. “At 20 I was barely passing college, you’re very bright, keep up the good work, I’ll be back in 5” you nodded and he got up. Continuing your work, you highlighted a few more lines before adding the papers to your binder. As you closed it Wilbur sat back down with two cookies. “They had some in the break room” he said, sliding one towards you. “Thanks Mr-“ “no” he cut you off “call me Wilbur” you smiled “thank you Wilbur”. The two of you exchanged some jokes before checking the time. It was time for the interview with your client. The both of you spent nearly an hour planning with your client. Before going into the court room.

After 3 days, you and Wilbur finally won the case. It was close though, he was an awful man, but he had a brilliant lawyer. After the win you hugged your client before leaving. You got around the corner to where Wilbur’s car was as he’d driven you there that morning. As soon as you were both in the car you broke down. “Oh y/n what’s wrong” he asked, leaning to you. “It was just really-really stressful, and-and” the man smiled sympathetically “oh honey, I know, I know.” He rubbed your shoulders as you cried a bit before wiping your tears. “Thank you wilbur” he nodded. “How about we go out to eat?” Wilbur asked, you nodded “winners date!” You said excitedly. “Winners date” the man beside you agreed.

#the name of justice #dsmpblr #dsmp #dsmp x reader #dsmp x gender neutral reader #writing #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x y/n #wilbur x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #lawyer au

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mi-rae07 · 2 years ago

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CAN I HVE A SPICY + HOT+ ANGST SANNNNN???? thanxx

Choi San : Twisted Hate

Pairing : Choi San (Ateez) and named character (Kim Sasha)

________________

Sasha : why are you on the floor outside a bar?

San looked up at the lady right above him with half drunk eyes, his vision blurry because of his tears. God, he was having a hard time. He was sure he looked like an absolute mess right now. But here was this lady, looking the complete opposite. Hair tied into a high bun with not a single hair left free except for the two strands left free on the front, and expensive clothes that did not have a single wrinkle on it.

But he hated it.

San : why-why are you here.

Sasha : I had business to do, san. What the hell are you doing here?

San : business? Business that involves destroying people's lives?

Sasha sighed, looking away. She knew san hated her, and her job as a judge. He was a prosecutor, and she still remembered the day san had found out about her doings. The day he had started hating the one person that meant everything to him.

______________________

6 months ago :

San walked out of the court, his eyes disappointed. At himself, at how the lawyer had defended the criminal, and the way things had ended. Especially the judge who had decided that the criminal was not guilty, it clawed at him, especially since it was her. And right as san was about to walk to his car, his eyes landed on the same judge that had decided the case, that being his high-school bestfriend, Kim Sasha.

Except now she was accepting a bag from the criminal's lawyer san had saw earlier, a satisfied smile on his face. San waited until sasha was alone before approaching her with furious eyes. Anyone with common sense would understand what had just went on.

San : did he buy you off, sasha?

Sasha turned around to face san, her eyes unbothered. And that only seemed to cause san more anger. He was the one person who believed in actual justice, and not dropping your morals for some criminal's money and wealth. He did not associate himself with the richer upper classes, who usually tried to buy him off. Which was probably why san was facing a shortage of income. But even then, he would rather starve himself to death than earn money through these ways. And he had thought sasha shared his same thinking as well, until today.

Sasha : san, why haven't you left yet?

San : sasha, fucking listen to me! Did that criminal give you money to win your judgement over?

Sasha : do not make a fuss now-

San : kim sasha! What the fuck has happened to your morals? I-

Sasha : morals? There are no morals in this world anymore, san. You and I should both know that by now, especially as people who work in this particular field.

San gaped at sasha, his eyes showing pure shock.

San : you lost my case. You made me lose this case all for some money?

Sasha : I've told you before. I entered this field, not for helping people or bringing justice. I came in here to make money, and I don't mind crushing anything or anyone over for doing the same.

And before san could say anything more, sasha had left.

_________________________

Present time :

Sasha : san, get up. We're going home.

San : I'm not letting you inside my house.

Sasha : fine, don't. but let me drop you off then, get up.

San : no. I refuse to come with someone like you.

Sasha : san, don’t joke around. Get up and come with me.

San was about to say something when sasha lifted him up by his arms, making san fall on her with a yelp. San wrapped his arms around her waist right after, resting the side of his head on her shoulder with a not-so-sober hum.

San : I hate you.

Sasha sighed, holding onto a drunk san as she whispered sadly

Sasha : I know.

Except what san would never know was the fact that sasha loved him, ever since high-school and up until that very moment.

__________________________

Sasha was now driving to san's house with a blank face, not really knowing what to say to the man sitting next to her with eyes that showed great despair.

San : why did you do that to me?

Sasha : can we not?

San : you knew I was at a shortage of money, and you knew I…I would have gotten enough money to pay my rents if I had won that case. I worked so hard for it, sasha. And you ruined it.

Sasha : is money what you want? I'll send it to you, how much ever it is that you require-

San : don't you understand? I've gotten an eviction notice now, sasha, I will be thrown out of my home if I don't move out within the next month. I'm going to be homeless soon, sasha.

Sasha : san, I told you. I can give you money, or even an apartment, if you wish.

San : and what would you buy them with? The money that you acquired by cheating on people you were supposed to defend?

Sasha : we can't always be good people, san.

San : but we can all try, sasha!

Sasha : and end up homeless like you? I'd rather no-

Sasha cut herself off as she realized what she had said, turning to face san as he looked away with hurt eyes. Sasha had now stopped the car right in front of san's house, quickly removing her seatbelt before saying

Sasha : oh no no no. san, that is not what I meant-

San cut her off as he got out of the car, banging the car door close before walking up to his door. Sasha rushed up to him, calling him desperately

Sasha : san! San no, please. I didn't mean that, I swear. I was just-

San : no you were right. This is what happens to people like me who try to do things the right way, we get evicted and kicked out from society.

Sasha shook her head sternly, blocking san's path with her body as she said

Sasha : no.

San : sasha-

Sasha : no listen to me! Your goodness, is the one thing I admire most about you, san. Your faith, your wish to help people who actually need it and the golden heart that you hold inside of you, I…I love that.

San stared at sasha, his eyes teary. Sasha stepped closer to san, laying one hand against his chest before saying

Sasha : don't you dare change your principles because of what I have said or done. I am a bad person, I always have been. I do…bad things and I will never, expect you to understand that. Just…don't change yourself for people like me. You have to be true to yourself until the end.

San : what are you saying-

San cut himself off as sasha took her necklace off, placing it on san's hand firmly before holding it close.

Sasha : this was my mom's, before she died. And no, this money wasn't made off of people who came to me for actual help. This was bought by money that my mom acquired from her hardwork. So…use this to pay your rent.

San : this is your mother's, sasha. How can I-

Sasha : my mother thought of me as a bad person too, she never really loved me when she was alive. I took this necklace as a reminder of her after she died, she…never gave this to me.

San : sasha.

Sasha shook her head, stepping away as she said

Sasha : just do it, okay? I ruined this for you, so let me be the one to fix it.

And with that sasha left the place, leaving a disturbed san behind.

____________________________

A week later :

Sasha : why are you eating alone?

San looked up as sasha sat next to him at the cafeteria, making the rest of the people look at her with wide eyes. Someone like her never came down to the cafeteria to eat, and especially not next to someone like choi san.

Except sasha didn't care, she could care less when her heart belonged to the man in front of her.

San : what are you doing here?

Sasha : uh, talking with you, what else?

San : you're not supposed to be doing this, sasha. Go away-

Sasha : why do you keep pushing me away?

San : because I told you, I still hate you.

His words stabbed right through sasha's heart, but she didn't show it in her face. She was getting used to this now.

Sasha : really. I still love you though.

San : no you don't.

Sasha : yes I do.

San : we're not in high-school anymore-

Sasha : I'm well aware.

San : sasha-

Sasha : you can hate me all you want, san, but I'm still going to keep loving you.

____________________________

3 weeks later :

Sasha was now walking through the streets at night, having a whiff of her e-cigarette every now and then. She was supposed to be at her house, sleeping. Walking alone at night like this, all alone, wasn't particularly safe. But she could care less. If someone would kill her, then so be it.

Sasha frowned as she heard small sniffles from somewhere close, making her pause on her tracks. She didn't particularly care about cries and pleads but this one sounded familiar. Really, familiar.

Sasha soon walked up to an alleyway after having traced the path to the person, looking down as the sight of san crouched down on the ground, crying softly came into her view.

Sasha : what the hell?

San suddenly looked up at the sound, his teary eyes widening at the sight of sasha. He stood up abruptly, still looking shocked as he eyed sasha.

San : what are you doing here?

Sasha : you're asking me? I'm not the one lying on the floor in an abandoned alleyway, crying my heart out at 2am.

San : are you alone?

San wanted to call sasha stupid for having come out like this at this time of the night. It was dangerous.

Sasha : why, do you plan to kill me?

San stared at sasha for a long second, only causing her to frown deepen. But that soon disappeared as san crashed against her, pinning both of them against the wall as he kissed her, hard and deep. Sasha did nothing but drop her e-cigarette in part shock, her entire body frozen. San pulled away a few seconds later, breathing hard against her lips before whispering

San : you smoke?

Sasha : what are you doing? San, why are you kissing me.

San stepped away at that, his eyes darting all around the place.

Sasha : san, I asked you a question.

San : I do not know an answer, sasha.

Sasha : do you want to know something, then?

San looked up at her, motioning her to continue with his eyes.

Sasha : I love you.

San stared at sasha with wide eyes, his hands clenching behind him. He knew she loved him, but hearing that from her like this, was different. His heart wanted to say something else, but he listened to his head instead.

San : I hate you.

Sasha tried not to show the hurt on her face. But she knew she would if she stayed longer.

Sasha : okay.

Sasha was about to turn and leave when san quickly held onto her wrist and said

San : no! no, are you leaving?

Sasha : san, you told me you hated me-

San : I never said I want you to leave either.

What was he doing to her.

Sasha : san, stop. Please.

San : if I tell you I love you will you stay then?

Sasha : what?

San : I love you, now stay.

Sasha : san! Do I look like something you can use and then throw away, and then use again? I-

San : I'm sorry. I don’t…I don’t know why I'm doing any of this.

Sasha let out a breath and pushed san against the wall, holding him by his collar before going back to kissing him. San let out a noise of satisfaction before lacing his hand through sasha's hair, removing her claw clip as her hair came lose. He loved her hair loose. San let out a small sigh before threading his hand through her hair, the other wrapped around her waist.

Neither of them had any idea what they were doing, but neither of them wanted to stop.

San : god, oh my god.

Sasha : does this make you hate me more?

Sasha leaned her head down, attaching her lips to his neck before sucking on it. San let out a low moan, throwing his head back against the wall as he whispered out shakily

San : o-oh, sasha.

Sasha : I thought you hated my name? Now you're moaning it, sannie?

San's eyes closed at her words, his grip on her hair tightening as sasha sucked on another spot, harder than ever. San's hand came back to clasp his mouth, a muffled moan filling the alleyway.

Sasha : so fussy already, baby. Getting yourself ruined by someone you hate the most, at a public place? Pathetic.

San's eyes filled with tears as he felt sasha's thigh rub against him, causing him to tug at sasha's hair.

Sasha : what, do you want me to stop? Okay.

Sasha stopped her movement completely, causing san to whimper out a small 'no' as his head fell against her shoulder. San breathed heavily, his hands wrapping around sasha's waist once again as he whispered

San : please don't do this to me.

Sasha : I'm doing this to you? San, you started this. You kissed me first! And now you're complaining?

San suddenly sobbed against her shoulder, causing sasha's eyes to soften as she quickly held the back of his head before saying

Sasha : san, no no sweetheart, I'm sorry. Please don't cry.

San : I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I have no idea what I'm doing, sasha.

Sasha : You just-

San : I got thrown out of my house.

Sasha : what? San! I gave you that necklace-

Sasha cut herself off as san took her hand in his, bringing it up to his throat as sasha felt something cold press against her finger, her necklace.

Sasha : no. no no no-

San : I really have nowhere to go now.

Sasha : I told you to sell it, san. What part of that did you not understand!

San : it was your mother's, sasha. This is yours, I'd rather go homeless than sell it to pay my rent.

Sasha let out an exasperated breath, looking away as she said

Sasha : god, you are so infuriating!

San : I know, I know I am. I'm infuriating, I'm stupid, I'm clueless, crazy-

Sasha : don't. I don't want to hear any of that.

San : I understand you now, sasha. Why you…you have ties with those bad people, accept money to have the judgement to their favor, I understand it all now.

Sasha : san, no.

San : I was being stupid. Helping people is losing cause.

Sasha : no it is not. San, you cannot be like me. You cannot be a bad person just because I have been successful in being a bad person. This…being like me, comes with it's own disadvantages.

San scoffed.

San : like what, living in a mansion-

Sasha : no, like getting murdered.

San stared at sasha. He did not know that.

Sasha : you cannot live like that. I will not allow it.

San : what-

Sasha : I will give you a new home. Home, cars, money, clothes, whatever you want, I will give it-

San : why do you have to keep doing this, kim sasha!

Sasha : because I love you!

San stared at sasha, tears filling his eyes once again. He still could not understand how she could love him.

Sasha : I've told you a million times before, san. You can hate me all you want, do whatever you want with me but I will always love you.

San : why. Why do you love someone like me. You have everything, sasha. I have nothing, hell I don’t even have a house!

Sasha : I don't care. Because I don't love you for any of that, san. I love you because you're kind, because you never give up and because you see the good in people. That isn't something I can ever do, it's not something anyone I've seen can do. But you, you're beautiful. Not just physically, but in your heart. You have a golden heart, san, and you cannot let anyone, not even me, change that for you.

San : I lied.

Sasha : what?

San : I lied about hating you, sasha. Because I don't. I kept telling that to you because I thought you didn't deserve someone as low as me. I said that because…because I've always believed in the good and then I saw you accepting bribes. But I just…I cannot hate you, sasha. I don't think I'm capable of hating you anymore.

Sasha smiled as san stepped closer to her and cupped her cheek in his hand before whispering

San : you can be as bad as you want, but I will still love you.

___________________________

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