#lawyer!steve

[calumfmu]

i could send you a million requests!

having an affair with your divorce lawyer steve 😏

HIII HUNNNN. Thank you for your patience love <3 Here it is in all its glory, smut, smut, smut oooo Divorce Lawyer!Steve x Reader (2.3k+ words of pure smut) cw: 18+, mdni, smut, riding, unprotected sex, p in v, cream pie, dirty talk, ugh, all Steve goodness, set in NY, famous!reader,

Three drinks down, adrenaline pumping through your veins, you only had one thing on your mind. Freedom. It was seven months into this divorce--if you could even call it that. A messy separation, public legal dispute that was plaguing the city's newspapers, headlines screaming about the famous ex-ball player's divorce with New York's once most eligible bachelorette.

Hitting the town three days in a row seemed like a good idea in retrospect, but it was really starting to get to you and your reputation. But as you chased that sixth tequila shot with lime, it was the last thing on your mind.

"Hey, isn't that..." your friend's voice trailed off as she pointed her beer towards someone across the bar. You followed the point of the bottle, gaze focusing on a tall man--Steve.

A Cheshire grin spread across your face, eyes widening as you recognized him, his mole dotted face, thin wire glasses framing his face as he laughed with a group of other suits, those you knew as his colleagues.

"Oh my God," you whined, immediately downing the shot that was supposed to be for her. She protested, hands throwing up around her as she watched you finish it with a grimace. "What is he doing here?"

She shrugged, swigging out of the glass as she eyed him down. Her bobbed hair swung in the air as she tilted her head down to fully drink him in.

"You know if I was straight I'd be all over that," she replied, turning around to face the bar. Your eyes remained on the older guy, tongue darting out to lick at the corner of your mouth.

"Robin!" You squealed, swatting at her arm. She giggled in response, arm waving to capture the attention of the bartender.

"I'm just saying," her tone was suggestive, eyebrows wiggling with her words. "You should just get after it, I mean... see what Harrington & Partner really has to offer."

You considered her point, your own head tilting down to observe him as his head tilted back with laughter. From across the bar, you could see the stretch of his neck, the expanse of skin being exposed to show more moles, disappearing behind the fitted collar of his dress shirt. The dark bar lighting did wonders for him, highlighting the amber high lights of his hair, showing off the small gray wisps that poked out at his hairline, a testament to how men age like fine wine.

"I've already seen what it has to offer," you said under your breath, grabbing her beer out of her hand. She whined again as you finished it off, slamming it on the counter behind you. "And I want more."

Her jaw dropped, eyes widening as she took in your words.

"What do you mean you've already seen it?"

Laughing, you took a step away from her, bag fitted over your shoulder as you adjusted the dress you wore. "Long story. Late night. Tedious divorce papers. Did I say that out loud?"

She reached a hand out to you, but you dodged it, backing away from her as you made your way over to his group. Her eye roll was enough for you to know you were making a bad decision, but you couldn't care. Your mind was set on one thing only.

"Steve!" You cheered, waving at him as he looked at you confused. Immediately, his gaze dipped across your figure, dress hugging your curves in all the right places.

He covered it up with a cough, eyes widening as he suddenly realized he was in the presence of those he worked with. The sound of your name rolled off of his lips, a surprised cackle of speech.

"What are you doing here?" It was less of a question and more accusatory.

Your mouth dropped open in a wide smile as you held your arms out. "Celebrating my separation, freedom."

Realization crossed his features as your words slurred, the intoxication becoming clear as you lingered a little too close for comfort. The men he surrounded himself with eyed you as well, eyes flickering over you as you teetered on the heels in your feet.

"Ah," he muttered, tongue smacking against his teeth as he took a step back. His hand came up to adjust the tie that was fitted around his neck. "I see. Just a few months away from that."

The suits laughed, deep chuckles of laughter that screamed money. Old money, New York money, jurisprudence, whatever you wanted to call it. Rolling your eyes, you felt all the confidence of the tequila shots you took, pressing a hand to his arm. His eyes dropped to it, slowly dragging away to peer down at you over his wire frames.

"Excuse me," he said to the group, placing a hand to your lower back to drag you away from them. He lead you through the crowd, pressing you into a dark corner of the swanky bar. On the way, you had seen Robin, her thumbs up thrown in your direction.

"What are you doing?" He whispered again, backing you into a wall. He towered over you, immediately, you were weak in the knees, this interaction normally being behind the closed doors of his 30th story office.

Your hand found his arm again, trailing up the expanse of it as you craned your head back, a soft bump against the wall.

"Having fun," you sighed, biting your lip as he took a step closer to you. His scent overwhelmed you, warmth beginning to pool into the pit of your stomach as you rested a foot up against the wall.

"This is a bad look," he suddenly grew professional, straightening up as your hand left his arm and began to trail down his abdomen.

You rolled your eyes, dragging out a groan that bordered childish.

"You're a bad look," you retorted, reaching up to grab the lapels of his suit. Tugging him closer to you, you pressed your lips to the side of his neck. "You're wearing too many clothes."

He pulled away from you again, clearing his throat as he urged you from the wall. Fast in his movements, his hand was at the small of your back, pulling you towards a back exit, one you were unaware that was even there.

A black Lincoln sat in an alleyway, the door opening as he threw you in the backseat. You rolled your eyes as you sat up, pulling down your skirt as he slid in behind you. He muttered something to a driver, the car already moving as the world began to spin around you.

"You can't have people seeing you like this," he muttered, shaking his head as he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. Leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttered shut.

"Relax, nobody saw."

"Hmm," he was annoyed, the tone of his voice short. "You don't know that for sure. There's too much at stake right now, especially with the way his side is going."

You groaned, leaning fully into him as you began to trail a hand over his body. Touching any skin you could get was the only thing you were focused on, hastily unbuttoning his shirt as the car began to make turns throughout the city. He didn't oppose, only settled into the back seat of the vehicle even further.

"I don't want to talk about him."

You climbed into his lap, squeezing in the small space as you pressed your lips to his. His hands found your ass, squeezing as he ground you down into him. The stubble on his face scratched at yours, your jaw rubbed raw as the two of you made out, tongues fighting against each other.

"I think you're," he muttered in between kisses, his hands beginning to lift your skirt as your hands found his belt buckle. "The worst client I've ever had."

"Mmmm," you groaned, pulling his belt buckle loose. It clanked in the air, followed by the sound of the driver sliding the separation window closed. "Talk dirty to me, Harrington."

He laughed into the kiss, lips slotting into yours perfectly as you freed him from his pants. His cock was angry red, swollen through its length as you briefly looked down to grip at him. The girth of it alone had you watering at the mouth, wishing you had the freedom to sink to your knees.

You pulled away from him, pressing him back down into the cushion of the seat as he chased your mouth, leaning up as he wanted more. He groaned at your touch, his head leaning back against the headrests.

"Need you to fuck me," you whispered, adjusting so the cave of your pussy sat right over him. A pant escaped him as he felt your wetness, encasing him as you grinded down on him.

"You're gonna get me fired, hun," he moaned, teeth digging into his lip as you lifted off of him, angling him so his head pressed at your entrance. The small stretch of his tip had you mewling, the intoxication of the alcohol leaving your body as you got drunk off of a new feeling.

"We've barely left Manhattan," the grunt of words only worsened as you pressed lower, his length stretching you wide. His hands found your hips, guiding you lower.

Your knees sat on the sides of his hips, locking him in as you stopped half way, hovering above him. With your head tilted back, staring up at the ceiling of the car, your eyes watered, the heat of the moment making you so caught up that you cursed at your previous idea of skipping the foreplay.

"You talk too much," you whispered, pressing all the way down. Stretched down to the hilt, the both of you sat in silent groans, his hand finding the back of your neck to press his forehead into yours.

From this angle, you could see the chocolate brown of his eyes, sunken with desire, his lids hooded in pleasure.

"fuck." The hand that never left your hip raised you, a soft squelch filling the back seat as your wetness dripped around him.

As you began to bounce on his cock, his moans began to grow louder, fingers digging marks into your hip. The press of his cock deep inside made you feel weak, that spongy spot not being granted mercy as he drove into you.

"Steve," you groaned, swirling your hips as he mouthed at your neck, deep colored marks being left in his wake. The heat of his touch added to the fire pooling in your belly, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

Look at my dirty girl.

His words could've gotten you right then and there, if it were not for the alcohol in your system prolonging your orgasm. You loved it when he called you names like that, claiming you as his even when you both knew you weren't.

Such a bad girl.

That one had you squeezing your eyes even tighter, your hands resting on the tops of his shoulders as you rode him, bouncing in a frenzy that he had yet to see. The scratch of his suit pants against your ass was oddly soothing, distracting you from the white hot feeling building faster and faster.

"Need you to fuck me harder," you whimpered, reaching a hand up to tug at his hair. The sounds he made to the yank on his scalp had you pulling closer to your orgasm, legs shaking as he began to match you half way, hips lifting off of the seat.

A ring of white began to form at the base of his cock, wetness from your pussy building into a thick cream, your release teetering on the edge. He was close to his own release, his breath coming short as he fucked you, hips moving into an uneven pattern.

"Gonna cum all in you i-if you keep talking like that," he tried being strong in his words, but his voice failed him, cracking in the middle.

A small smile ghosted your lips, knowing exactly what it would take to get him to paint you white, release deep inside of you.

"Cum inside me," you whined, sinking lower as you pressed your lips to the shell of his ear. Your voice was low, scratchy from the frequent moans, borderline shouts he drew out of you.

"Make me yours, Steve."

He groaned, hands locking behind your hips as he began to drive into you, slapping sounds filling the air. Your hand snaked down to circle at your clit, tight circles around the nub that had your eyes rolling back.

"Show everyone who's pussy this really is."

With a low groan, he came inside you, fucking you through it as you found your release quickly after. It was the loudest one you had experienced, legs shaking as explosions tingled up your spine. His hips never slowed, riding out both of your highs.

You pushed off of him, collapsing into the empty leather next to him, legs sprawled wide open. Your chest heaved with exhaustion, yet adrenaline still coursed through you, tequila urging another round already.

"How soon do you think is too soon for me to marry my divorce lawyer?"

He laughed at your words, tucking himself away as he peered out the window. The city lights were far in the background, familiar streets nearing his home coming up in the distance.

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, dear," he shook his head, leaning down onto you to press a kiss to your forehead anyways. You beamed at the press of his lips, tilting your head closer to him.

The look in his eyes that he gave you was sweet, something that you had once yearned for from your now-ex. You knew it was wrong, to be this smitten over your divorce lawyer, but God, was he beautiful.

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

also--not proofread, but should be in the next week or so :)

#my writing #older!steve #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve harrington x you #smut #Steve Harrington smut #I've been watching too much sex and the city #so #if this is in my writing for the next 6 months #don't mind me #requests #lawyer!steve

[bettyfrommars]

thinking about falling for your divorce lawyer one mr steve harrington 😘

Oh, you little sneaky 🥹

I'm envisioning him as someone who did not want to go into that profession, not at all, but he felt pressured by his mostly absent father, and so he learned the basics, enough to get by. He ends up loving the work and diving into it wholeheartedly once he realizes he can help people, but he never charges enough, if anything, so he often struggles financially.

You wanted to settle everything amicably, but now your soon-to-be ex-husband has a fancy lawyer (his parents are loaded) and you're shuffling down the sidewalk in tears, trying to figure out what to do, when you see Steve's face on a bench at the bus stop. The sight of his easy grin makes you feel light for the first time in days, and you see that he specializes in "affordable" services.

His office is in shambles, not because he's a messy person, but he's over-worked and understaffed. His best friend Robin is his secretary, and she's on the phone when you enter, while the three other lines blink for the callers who are on hold. Robin looks ecstatic to see you, motioning for you to take a seat in one of the four orange, plastic chairs against the wall.

The door with the frosted window across from her desk bursts open, making some papers fly off the desk, and Steve yanks down the necktie that hangs loose around his neck. Shirt sleeves rolled up to expose some forearm tattoos, scalp glistening in sweat, and his hair is imprinted with the lines of his fingers from running a hand through it all day.

You get to your feet, but Steve doesn't see you. Robin puts the receiver to her chest to hear what he has to say, but her eyes keep darting to you.

"My cupboards are stocked with Ramen noodles in case you want a movie night this weekend," he stretches his arms wide with a hearty yawn. The next part he says in a whisper, "unless you're still dating what-her-face with the hyena laugh from the Estee Lauder counter at the mall."

Robin puts the phone back to her ear and says a cordial goodbye to whoever was on the other line, and then she hangs up and tries to gesture in your direction.

"I will say, I like her better than the grumpy one you had a crush on at---"

"Steve!" Robin cuts him off, and he rests his hip against the desk to cross his foot over his ankle. "Your 4:00 is here."

You notice him visibly stiffen, head snapping in your direction, but then his face softens, a sincere smile warming all the way to his eyes. A few more swipes of his hand through his hair for good luck.

You hug your coat tighter and introduce yourself.

Steve's cheeks flush pink from embarrassment, and he extends his arm for a firm, comforting handshake. He notices that your eyes are puffy, most likely from crying and lack of sleep, mascara smudged at the corners.

He leans in with a soft pat to your arm. "Now, let's give your husband something to cry about."

(I'm not very good at writing/imagining white collar Steve, but damn I really giggled and got excited about this ask. Thank you, whoever you are 😘)

#Steve Harrington #lawyer!steve #Anon ❤️

[fnaf-movie-countdown]

The first wave of fnaf movie youtooz debuts May 24th!!

Source

#fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy’s movie #five nights at freddy's movie #mike schmidt #vanessa shelly #vanessa afton #Steve raglan #William Afton #the yellow rabbit #Shreddy Fazchair #doug lawyer #Fnaf movie merch

[eldritch-thrumming]

what, like it’s hard?, pt. one

“it’s just that… if i want to win a seat in congress by the time i’m thirty, i need to find someone who’s serious about my career. not some little elementary school teacher that cares more about his students than what he’s wearing on my campaign stops,” tommy tells steve, as they’re sitting in quite possibly the fanciest restaurant steve’s ever step foot in. the menu hadn’t even included any prices.

“but… i’m seriously in love with you.” steve feels like his whole world is falling apart. just last week he’d been so sure that tommy was getting ready to propose. he’d introduced steve to his family—they’d spent a week out on martha’s vineyard for a family reunion at which steve had met tommy’s great-grandmother, hands laden with rings as she’d winked when tommy had asked for a private conversation. steve had been so sure that conversation was about the family ring.

“and i love you too, baby, but look. you don’t want to have to leave your students for half the year to come on the campaign trail with me, do you?” tommy asks, not even really looking at steve. he continues to just eat his stupid dinner as if he’s not ripping steve’s heart out at this very moment.

and steve can’t help but think how silly this all is, because it’s not like tommy’s actually running for anything right now. steve doesn’t even teach yet, beyond the two days a week he does his student teaching. they’re only 22, they haven’t even graduated northwestern with their bachelors degrees! but tommy’s saying these things as if they’re all real, right now.

“and i’m off to harvard next fall. it’s not like we’ll stay together while i’m there and you’re still here, right?”

and the thing is, steve had actually thought he’d be going with tommy to boston. they’re both set to graduate in the spring, steve with his degree in education and tommy with a dual major in pre-law and political science. they hadn’t really ever talked about it, but they’d been together since the beginning of their sophomore year. so yes, steve had thought they’d still be together when tommy started at harvard law.

but now steve’s starting to feel extra stupid.

“so… what? you’re breaking up with me?” steve starts to feel his chest tightening, like he might cry. he can’t believe that two hours ago he thought he’d been getting ready for a proposal.

“don’t think of it as a breakup, stevie… think of it as a conscious uncoupling. we’re just moving in two different directions. i’ll be at harvard law next semester and you’ll be…” tommy gives him a look of slight disdain—steve has never seen tommy look at him like that. waitstaff? sure. his driver? absolutely. but it’s never been directed at steve before. “well, you’ll be teaching snot-nosed six year olds. we’re on different paths.”

and that’s what truly makes steve’s blood boil. his passion for teaching and education is one of his greatest qualities and he’d thought that had been part of the reason tommy loved him. he didn’t realize that tommy loved him in spite of that. he’s not gonna let some asshole like tommy montgomery hagan iii tell him he’s no good.

so he doesn’t respond. he just takes the linen napkin off his lap and throws it on his half-eaten steak dinner and marches out of the restaurant.

tommy doesn’t even follow him out.

~*~

“oh steve… i’m sorry,” robin says to him about an hour later while steve lays his head in her lap on their dingy couch.

“it’s not even that he broke up with me,” he explains through tears. “it’s that he basically said i was worthless. like i couldn’t do anything better than teaching. as if teaching isn’t even an admirable profession! where would he be without his teachers, huh? isn’t this all about going to stupid harvard? what does he think the professors there actually do? knit?”

“is this a bad time to tell you that i always kind of hated him?” robin says, maybe trying to get him to laugh. but it kind of surprises steve. he sits up, knocking her hands from where they’ve been carding through his hair in the process.

“you did?! no, you didn’t.” he searches robin’s face for a moment and then sighs. “why didn’t you say anything? you could’ve saved me a whole lot of wasted time.”

“babe, you were so gooey-eyed for that guy, nothing i said was gonna change that. a crowbar couldn’t have pried you away from him. but you have to know he was an asshole.” when steve stares at her blankly, she huffs. “steve, he used to offer to cover the whole tab when we went out. how often did he ever actually pay, even for his own drinks? he made poor jonathan cry the last time we were all here for game night, just because jonathan asked for clarification on the rules for pictionary.” steve is still staring at her. “he tried to stiff argyle by offering him a flight on his dad’s private jet instead of paying for his weed and we all know he doesn’t even have access to the jet. dude was cheap as fuck and not even nice about it.”

steve thinks about it. it was kind of true. tommy was a horrible tipper—steve usually laid down a couple of twenties when they went to dinner together when tommy wasn’t looking. he can remember more than a few times where the guy had sent their food back even though it had looked perfectly wonderful to steve. so… okay, maybe robin had a point.

steve tells her as much, then adds, “but he was always nice to me.”

robin snorts. “are you kidding? he’s stood you up so many times i can’t even remember all of them. remember that time he said his first impression of you was that you weren’t as hot as your pictures? who says that to the person they’re dating?”

steve groans and lays his head back down in her lap.

“okay, so maybe you have a point about that too. but i was gonna marry him, rob. what do i do now?” he knows he’s whining, but he feels just a little bit entitled to it right now.

“i don’t know, babe. get over it, i guess. welcome to the world of us singles. it sucks out here.” steve can hear the fondness in robin’s voice as she says it, but still. it does sting just a little.

they sit there in silence for a while, with robin running her hands through his hair again. it’s so soothing that he almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks again.

“hey, you know what would be super funny?” she’s laughing a little as she says it.

“what?” steve had been dozing just a little and his voice sounds muffled by fatigue.

“if you got into harvard and just showed up on the first day. imagine the look on his face.”

steve laughs at how ridiculous that sounds. like he could get into harvard. plus, he’s got teaching to think about. he doesn’t have a place yet, but he knows he’ll get one soon.

but as he sits there with robin’s hands stroking through his hair, he begins to daydream about how shocked tommy would be. about how he’d have no choice but to eat his words when steve proves himself by getting into one of the most competitive programs in the country. about how good it would feel to prove the bastard wrong.

“robin?” she hums in response. “you’re a goddamn genius.”

~*~

“dingus, are you sure you want to do this?”

the spring semester starts in three days. it’s their last semester at northwestern and there’s nothing but great big darkness on the horizon of steve’s future. he hasn’t slept in two days, busy studying, thick workbooks piled around around him at the kitchen table. he knows what he must look like, over-caffeinated with bruises under his eyes.

“i’m sure.” steve has his lsat exam in one week. “i have to take the exam this week. apps are due by march first.”

“no, steve, i don’t mean taking the test. i mean applying at all. it’s clearly more stress than it’s worth. do you even want to go to law school?” robin sounds concerned and normally steve would think it’s very sweet, but currently it does nothing but irritate him.

“i could,” he responds grumpily.

robin sighs. “i just mean… is this worth it?”

steve looks up then and sees her biting her lip, clearly worried about him. he puts his pencil down and stops the timer on his phone, giving her his full attention.

“this isn’t just about tommy.” robin gives him a skeptical look and it’s his turn to sigh. “it’s really not. maybe it started out that way, maybe it was just a stupid joke to get revenge on the asshole, but now it’s more than that. it’s proving that i can do something unexpected of me.” he swallows. “no one even believed i would get into college. i was just some stupid jock in high school who’d never amount to anything. and then i got in to northwestern and i was so shocked and happy. but i found out that my dad had actually pulled a bunch of strings. so i hadn’t gotten in on my own merits. he didn’t think i could. but now…” he runs a hand through his hair nervously. he’s never said any of this out loud before. “he’s not around now. there’s no one to help me. no safety net. if i can do this, it’ll prove something to me. something that maybe i don’t really believe yet.”

he expects robin to say something about external validation being a corrupting force and identity built on academic achievement being solely a losing game, but she doesn’t. instead, she sits down across the table from him and picks up a workbook.

“okay,” she says. “what do we have to do?”

~*~

“mail here?” steve calls out when he hears the front door close behind robin.

there’s a moment that feels like a pause. “yeah, it’s here.”

steve practically sprints from his bedroom to his living room. robin holds a single white envelope in her hand. steve all but snatches it from her.

his fingers move to rip it open, but then he hesitates. he thrusts it back towards robin. “i can’t,” he tells her. “you do it.”

her eyebrows shoot up. “you’re sure?” steve nods. he watches her rip the envelope open, bouncing on his feet. she scans the page and then she’s smiling.

steve grabs the paper from her. “oh my god?!” he yells. “oh my god!”

robin practically jumps into his arms. “179, baby! harvard law here we come.”

~*~

even after such a successful run at the lsats, there’s still the little matter of actually getting in to the school. steve’s only experience with the academic application process was with undergrad and it appears that applying for anything beyond a bachelors degree is an entirely different ball game. he’s so out of his depth that he’s forced to turn to grad school message boards for advice and tips of how to get in. it seems like everyone else is applying to a hundred different schools while steve’s only applying to one. he learns this is a terrible strategy for planning one’s future, but that doesn’t really matter to steve. for him, it’s harvard or nothing.

there are so many different parts of the application that it makes steve’s head spin. there’s the statement of purpose and the personal statement—the difference between those two requires robin’s careful and slow explanation about three separate times. then there’s the writing sample and the application and the recommendations and the transcripts and and and

but with robin’s help, steve completes each component and successfully sends his materials by the day of the deadline.

steve’s never been a patient person. no one on earth would accuse him of that, so even he can tell that he’s getting on robin’s nerves every day as he practically pounces on her when she returns from collecting the mail.

and then one day, finally, at the end of april, she comes through the front door and clutched in her hand is a big, thick white envelope emblazoned with the words ‘harvard law’ in bold, beautiful crimson red.

~*~

“last chance to back out,” robin says smiling as she swings herself up into the passengers seat of their rented u-haul.

“nah.” steve returns her smile as he slides his sunglasses from his hair onto his face. “let’s get out of this dump.”

and with that, they leave their first apartment behind, headed to the coast.

[wanted to finish this completely before posting but my benadryls kicking in and i have no self control. eventual steddie, promise! no tag list for this one, sorry!! it’s giving me anxiety on the other one lol absolutely not edited, if u see a typo no u don’t. i wrote this on my phone in a feverish frenzy. also, i originally invented someone for the role of warner but then i was like ‘IDIOT!!!!! why would u not choose tommy?????’ so if there’s a name in here that shouldn’t be, no there isn’t.]

#the not as hot as ur pictures thing is a real thing my ex said to me after we’d been together for like six months lol called me ugly 😭 #legally blonde au #steddie #steddie fic #steddie legally blonde au #this will EVENTUALLY be steddie if i write more lol #robin buckley #steve harrington #platonic stobin #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #i’m setting it up!!!!! #eddie will be a bartender not a law guy sorry!!!! lawyer!eddie just don’t feel right to me #steddie fanfiction #steddie blurb #guess what i watched tonight #well i also watched mean girls lol #here have this half finished thing #i wanted to finish it before posting but

[shaxza]

#dahlia hawthorne #ace attorney #phoenix wright #dahlia x phoenix #alexa play dark red by steve lacy #my art #since i dont want to make a dedicated post let me use my notes to vent about how much i love dahlia conceptually and how much i wish AA + #writers weren't sexist #dahlia was given the shittiest set of cards when she was a kid and she was a victim of grooming by that terry loser #she is CONSTANTLY objectified and sexualised and i think her design as a skinny young looking individual makes it even more distasteful #but i think it works if the writers could have done something with that #what i love about dahlia and phoenix's relationship is the contrast - phoenix needs to see people as innocent before jumping to help them v #dahlia who has if you think about it is innocent to a degree given how fucked up her childhood was #dahlia could have been a great case study into compassion for phoenix as she has hurt him directly but in his role as a lawyer he has to se #past certain flaws so justice can be served #and it can PUSH his understanding of what is “guilty” #yes dahlia killed people but also i choose to believe her worldview was severely warped by her enviornment and she's a product of it #or if they wanted to make her a villain and stick with it i think as a rival ro phoenix she should have been a cautionary tale #of what happens when you never learn to move beyond the shitty hand youve been dealt with and live non judgementally #anyways ^_^

[newtstabber]

Eddie: alright, you're turn in initiative, whadya got?

Dustin: what does the phrase 'worn or carried' mean to you?

Eddie: *sighs* it means being worn or being carried.

Dustin: ok. I can work with that. Would you consider a human heart to be worn or carried?

Eddie, staring: I'm sorry- a human heart? Okay I'm gonna regret this but why are you asking?

Dustin: so there's a first level spell, catapult-

Eddie: yes I'm familiar with this spell.

Dustin: now that spells says I can jettison an object that is not being worn or carried.

Eddie: you can't see his heart though, so-

Dustin: ah but see, catapult doesn't require you to see the object you are throwing.

Eddie, blinking: what?

Dustin: catapult does not require line of sight

Eddie: ok but even if it's not being worn or carried, a heart is not an object.

Dustin: what if it were in a jar? You'd consider it an object then, wouldn't you?

Eddie: I am not going to allow you to use a first level spell to fling someone's heart from their chest!

Dustin, shrugs: rules as written says I should be able to.

Eddie: your written rules can kiss my ass

#stranger things #eddie munson #dustin henderson #eddie munson drabble #dnd rules lawyer dustin just seems fitting #steve isnt the only one that the kids mess with #and as bad as dustin is erica is 100x worse

[steddieasitgoes]

Busker Eddie who always sets up right outside The Harrington and Son Law Firm because the overhang of the tall building gives him the best acoustics, and it’s right across from the subway line.

Sure he has to deal with Mr. Harrington calling the police on him for soliciting every time he shows up. But the tips he makes are worth it. Plus, he’s managed to win over the chief of police Hopper, who never writes Eddie up. He thinks it’s because Hopper has some kind of feud with Harrington, but he doesn’t ask. It’s better not to get involved.

Eddie’s busking his heart out one day. Giving his all to a small group of tourists gathered around him when a Young Suit marches over to him. Fights his way through the tourists, gets his hands on Eddie’s shirt, and yanks him away from the crowd.

The Young Suit is dressed like all the other suits who sneer at Eddie as they head into the building every afternoon. But this Young Suit doesn't look anything like the rest of them. His hair is fluffy and styled to perfection, nothing like the clean-shaven and buzzed heads Eddie's used to. His walk is a little less polished, dress shoes a size too big on his feet, Eddie guesses. But it's his eyes that really give him away. They're not dark and dead like every other suit who sold their soul to the devil. There's a glimmer of life behind this guy's eyes, enough that Eddie doesn't immediately start his rant about how lawyers are the devil reincarnated.

He still gives him shit though.

"What the fuck man?"

"Look, I don't want to do this," Young Suit says, running a hand through his hair. "But my dad's ready to throw the fax machine out the window if you don't leave so can you please find somewhere else to busk?"

Dad, huh?

Eddie can work with that.

"Ah, so you're the son in Harrington and Son's Law Firm," Eddie says, a salacious grin appearing on his face. "Sorry, Harrington Jr., but no can do. This is my spot. Tell daddy I have the license to prove it."

Harrington Jr. sighs dramatically before his hands land on his hips. He looks like an exasperated soccer mom.

A cute exasperated soccer mom.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Could you at least change the days you're here then?" Harrington Jr. asks. "My asshole dad never works on Mondays and Tuesdays. If you busk those days, I'll make sure no one calls the cops on you."

"Like I said, no can do," Eddie says, casually. "I make most of my rent money on Thursdays and Fridays. Daddy dearest will have to deal with it."

"Don't do it for him, do it for me."

"And why would I do anything for you?" Eddie asks, caught off guard for the first time in a long time.

Harrington Jr. gets a wicked look in his eyes. Lips twitching upward in a smirk that has Eddie's knees seconds away from buckling.

"Because I actually like your voice and want to hear more of it without my dad screaming and threatening violence in the background," he says, laying the compliment on thick. "I can also make it worth your while."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"I have a friend who works at the club on 9th. One phone call and you can be performing on a real stage for people who don't smell like stale subway air. You're too good to be performing on street corners."

The offer is tempting, it is. But Eddie can hear his uncle's nagging voice in the back of his head. The one that tells him not to take offers from strangers, especially not pretty ones who can't be trusted.

"Tell you what, Harrington Jr." Eddie flirts. "I'll think about it, while I finish my set. Till then, I'm not leaving. "

"Better keep watch for flying fax machines then," Harrington Jr. sighs again, finally dropping his hands from his hips. He turns to go back inside but stops abruptly, digging in the pockets of his pants before pulling a thick wallet out. He leafs through it before tossing an impressive stack of bills in Eddie's open guitar case.

Eddie waits for him to say something else, but he never does. Just stuffs the wallet back in his pocket and drags himself back inside the building.

When Eddie's sure Harrington Jr. is back inside, he kneels down to inspect his earnings. He nearly passes out when he spots three crisp hundred dollars bills lying under a business card that reads:

Steve Harrington Associate Lawyer Harrington and Son Law Firm 646-442-8422

Well played, Eddie thinks as he pockets the business card with Steve's number. Well played, indeed.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #busker eddie #lawyer steve #are those tags? they are now lol #dani writes

[chirpsythismorning]

this has been on my mind recently...

#byler #stranger things #noah being over 18 now genuinely terrifies me in the context of will being shipped with steve comfortably by fans now #i cannot overstate how fed up i would be #like idc if will and him have a scene or more together and they have good chemistry #hell maybe even will will make it obvious he's attracted to him #but if yall take it too far and try to make it a thing comparable to harringrove or steddie #and it gets anywhere close to byler on ao3 #you will be hearing from my lawyer #the worst part is you know noah would hype it up if he caught wind of it #DON'T SUBJECT ME TO THIS

[calumfmu]

divorce lawyer steve is the loml 😍

could we see him finally meeting the husband you’re divorcing? 😉

Shorter one, but you know--had to do this to build the little universe better.

Divorce Lawyer!Steve x Reader [part one. part two.]

cw: smut-ish (interrupted), vulgar language, slut shaming, older!Steve, two idiots in love

“What are you doing here?”

Steve stood in your doorway, semi casually dressed—to his standards. White button down, pushed to the elbows, navy blue pants, brown loafers. His glasses were missing from his face, hair disheveled as he seemed to be more dressed down.

“I was in town?” His voice was gravelly, as he hadn’t expected you to open the door before he even knocked. You were on your way out, a normal visit to the inner city to drown out the past few months with partying.

“You live on the other side of New York.”

“Ah.”

You two sat there, staring into each other’s eyes. It was the first time around him you had felt uncomfortable, if you had even wanted to call it that.

“What’s that?” Your finger pointed to a box, wrapped in black paper, glossy, with a single bow.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

He was acting suspicious, not quite meeting eye contact as he stood in your doorway, looking like a scared cat that could flee at any moment. You grabbed the box anyways, snatching it from his hands before turning on your heel to go into your living area, plopping down on the couch.

As you began to unwrap the gift, he remained at the door, hands shoved in his pockets. You eyed him, raising an eyebrow as you took off the last bits of paper on the box.

“Stop being weird, old man,” an exasperated sigh left your mouth as he grumbled to himself, not pleased with your comment referencing his age.

It had been about a month of being his client, discussing paperwork, the details of separation, fucking him behind closed doors. The last part shouldn’t be apart of the equation, but one look at him, you couldn’t resist the temptation.

As the door to your apartment closed behind him, he stepped in, taking a wide look at the room around him. Moving boxes were still present, shoved into the corners of the room, scribbles of your name on the cardboard. You didn’t know what he was expecting—you to be living this lavish life in a lavish apartment, but it was home to you. Home to you at least for now.

You gasped loudly, slapping your hands to your mouth as you finally took a look inside of the box. Manolo Blahnik Mary Jane’s, patent leather shiny as ever, sitting there and dying to be worn.

“Steve!” Your mouth was wide open, surprise evident as you were had no idea was even aware of this side of heaven—shoe heaven. Grabbing the shoes, you immediately toed off your others, trading them for the gifted heels. Perfect fit. “You shouldn’t have!”

Giddy with emotion, you ran over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. A sloppy kiss landed on his cheek, the grimace in return as your entire body weight leaned on him. Slowly his arms came to snake around your waist, gripping the skin around your middle section.

His eyes met yours as he stared down at you, warm, chocolate brown with a whole world to offer. In this lighting, you could truly see his beauty, how age only made him more angelic, filled with fine lines and moles dotting his cheeks.

“You said I owed you, so…” he shrugged, a smug look crossing his face as he took in how grateful you truly were for the gift.

“You didn’t actually have to,” you replied, trailing your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “The other pair wasn’t actually ruined, and these are so… so-”

“Think of it as an early separation gift.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth. Just as you turned to lean into the kiss, he pulled away, a slight dip of his eyebrow in teasing manner.

“Steve Harrington, what am I going to do with you?”

He looked away from you, smiling into the distance as you looked down at your shoes once more, squealing with delight. This was all too domestic, too inappropriate for what your relationship should be with him, especially only a month in—yet not a relationship at all, but who was anyone to tell you differently?

Sinking down to your knees, you were careful to not scuff the gifted shoes, settling on the balls of your feet. You reached for his belt buckle, hastily working the metal between your fingers. His hand instinctively came to your head, tangling in the hair as he gasped.

“What-what’s—no, you don’t have to-” His words became jumbled as you smirked up at him, blinking through long lashes.

Faux pouting, you freed his zipper, slowly pulling it down with the lightest touch of your fingers.

“I could tell you about this Ferragamo dress I’ve been eyeing,” you whispered, biting your lip as you began to palm his through his exposed underwear. His head dipped back quickly, his eyes rolling shut. “Or—I could show you how grateful I really am.”

He nodded down at you, tightening his grip in your hair as you pressed a kiss to his groin, staring up at him through it. A shuttered breath escaped him, slow and jagged, his eyes watching the quick dart of your tongue dampening the material.

Just as you pulled him out of his restraint, a rapid knock was heard at the door. Steve craned his head back, silently cursing to himself as you wrapped a hand around him, moving slowly over the velvety skin of his shaft.

“Should you get that?”

“They’ll go away.” An open mouth kiss was pressed to his head, licking away the beaded pearl at the tip. The salted skin had you drooling, already craving more.

The knock was more urgent this time, a male voice heard through the thick wood of the door. It made the both of you pause in your tracks, Steve’s eyes widening, your mouth half way around him.

“Is that-?”

“You think-?”

It took only one more knock before the two of you were making haste, Steve’s pants sliding up with a jump, you wiping the corners of your mouth. The both of you were trying to appear normal, appear like actual lawyer and client inside of whatever this was.

Rushing over to the door, you have one last look at Steve, him lingering over the kitchen island as he grabbed a random folder, grateful that it had been documents relevant to the divorce settlement.

Your soon-to-be-ex’s eyes were small as he took you in, eyes dragging down your figure. His looks, those in which you had once thought were beautiful, seemed devious, up to no good while he stood before you.

“New outfit? Looks slutty,” he muttered, pushing his way into your apartment. He looked around, focusing on the boxes in the corner of the apartment, taking in every minuscule detail of the room.

“Aw damn, I was hoping for more tramp-y,” you were firm in your words, but insecure nonetheless. You felt exposed as he stood there, nervous that he would instantly know what you and Steve had previously been up to.

Taking notice of the older man in the corner of the room, your ex adjusted his suit, shirt unbuttoned down to below mid-chest exposing firm muscle that had your eyes rolling. He put on a bravado-type show, puffing out his chest like some animal trying to intimidate its prey. Steve didn't notice.

You leaned a hip against your couch, arms crossed against your chest, eyes rolling back as your ex continued to do whatever he was doing.

"Is there a reason you're on my side of town?"

Steve finally turned around at the sound of your voice, pulling his wire frames out of his pants pocket and sliding them onto his face. If there was just the privacy of you two, you would've jumped him by now. Barely looking at the younger man, his eyes focused on the papers in front of him.

"Your side of town?" His NY accent was thick, home to the city you now call home. "Didn't realize that was on the table for the divorce."

"Speaking of terms of settlement, I don't think it's quite appropriate that you're here right now," Steve's voice drew the staring competition that you two began, two stubborn attitudes gnawing at each other. You were reluctant to pull your eyes away from the man, noticing just how cheap his expensive suit looked on him.

Your ex turned towards Steve, hands on his hips, chest poked out, styled hair coiffed on his head. Its style didn't compare to the older man—and he had about 20 years on him.

"And who might you be, old man?"

Steve's reply was a tick of his jaw, tongue smacking against his teeth as he walked up to meet the man. A hand shot out for him to shake, although it was left unmet. Your ex-partner just stared down at it, thumb reaching out to rub against his bottom lip.

"Harrington, Steve Harrington. Representing the young lady over here." Sighing, Steve tucked the hand into his pocket, stifling his own eye roll at the rude gesture. He shared a brief look with you, understanding now why you wanted out of the marriage so badly. Even by this barely thirty second interaction.

"Mm, bet you're sleeping with her, grandpa," your ex's words had you stifling a giggle, your teeth digging into the palm of your hand to stop the sound. It wasn't that his words were funny, but more so Steve's reaction to it.

He had cleared his throat, rather loudly, tugged at his collar that hung loosely at his neck. Obvious wasn't the word to put it, just a surge of an uncomfortable feeling that overcame him. One thing you could count on was your ex-husband being dense as ever, grateful that he hadn't caught the movement he had made.

"Hardly ever professional," Steve answered, clasping his hands in front of him. "Even to joke about, young man."

He was met with a response similar to his original, a tick of the jaw and eyes cut towards him. The younger man hated the turn of the namecalling back, even despite calling Steve everything other than the word 'geriatric' itself.

"I can bet you want to. I mean, look at her."

"Sir."

The irritation that stemmed from the nicknames towards him geared towards the comments made about you, Steve pinched his nose bridge. He shoved the papers to the side, tugged on the sides of his jackets, straightened his posture. Taking a step towards you, he brushed past the younger guy.

"I have a meeting starting up soon," he said, crowding your space. One of his hands brushed against the side of your thigh, a gesture that went unnoticed by the other party in the room, definitely noticed by you. Butterflies began in the pit of your stomach, tingling lower as your skin burned with the touch of his hand. "We can meet at my office, our scheduled twelve."

As you began to answer, your ex spoke up for you, waving his hands in the air as he made his way towards the door instead.

"I'm heading out, you can relax, geezer," your ex opened the door, lingering for a moment more. "I was just stopping by to see what more my lawyer can collect."

He threw a wink towards you, nodding in Steve's direction.

"Better suit up well, pal. It's only going to get worse from here."

The door shut behind him, silence hanging heavy in the air as the two of you sat there—stunned silence. It took only seconds for you to start laughing as soon as that door closed, leaning against the couch with your hands covering your mouth, feet in the air as you sat on the back of the furniture. Steve shook his head at you, running his hands through his hair.

"Really? Him?"

You nodded, cackling at the mess that was left behind by the few words that were shared between the men. Taking a step in your direction, Steve found space between your open legs, hands resting on the couch outside of your thighs.

"There's no way he could've been anything other than that," Steve huffed a laugh finally, hanging his head as your giggles finally came to a stop.

You ran your hands up the front of his chest, the fabric of his shirt running between your fingers. Tugging at the material, you brought his face closer to your own, inches away from each other as you stared up into his eyes. That chocolate brown had you smiling softly, comfort easing the anxiety that had settled at your chest from the earlier interaction.

"Shut up and kiss me, old man."

Steve smiled widely, eyebrows shooting up. Humor found him at your words, different than the earlier reactions given. "Oh, you guys were perfect for each other."

You pressed your lips to his, slotting perfectly into his shape. It was a chaste kiss, a subtle press of lips that warmed your core.

"But I think you're perfect for me now."

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

#my writing #older!steve #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #smut #Steve Harrington smut #satc reader lives on #I love it here #requests #lawyer!steve

[estrellami-1]

Someone help because I don’t have nearly the legal jargon knowledge to turn this into the fic it could be.

“Nancy,” Eddie gasps into the receiver as soon as she answers. “I need a huge favor. Like, huge.”

Nancy hums. “What’s up?”

“I need you to expose the Harrington Firm.”

“For?”

“Uh. Fraud? Extortion?”

“Ah.” She chuckles lightly and says the one thing he’s never heard her say before. “No can do, Eddie, sorry.”

“What?” His brain helpfully supplies, you kick Miette? He ignores his brain.

“I can’t expose what’s not there, Eddie. Listen, I’ve gotta go, Robin just came in with an urgent look on her face, but I’ll call you later, okay? We’ll do lunch sometime!”

And without another word, she hangs up, leaving Eddie’s brain buzzing along with the dial tone in his ear.

Can’t expose what’s not there, she said. Which means-

Oh, no.

She doesn’t know.

Eddie rolls his shoulders and nods decisively to himself. She won’t do it? Fine. He’ll do it himself.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #eventual steddie #possibly #eventual ronance #Nancy is a journalist #Eddie isn’t. idk what he does #Steve is a lawyer in his dad’s company #Eddie overheard him planning to expose his dad #except Eddie has like 0 context #listen the ideas are here. execution is lacking though

[riricitaa]

A Stucky au requested by anonymous

kinda related  X  |  X

#hope you'll like it :) #stucky #alternate universe #stevebucky #stucky au #stucky alternate universe #stevebucky au #stevebucky alternate universe #stucky gifs #stucky edits #stucky manips #stevebucky gifs #stevebucky edits #stevebucky manips #my gifs #my edits #my aus #mine #* #lawyer!steve x conman!bucky

[holylulusworld]

The assistant (4) - Lawyers

Summary: You are invisible most of the time.

Pairing: Boss!Steve Rogers x Assistant(plussized)!Reader

Possible pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Curtis Everett x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader, Andy Barber x Reader, Mike Weiss x Reader

A/N: Okay, I went a little crazy with all the CEvans charaters in this one.

Warnings: angst, flirty CEvans characters, language, plussized/chubby reader, fat shaming,

The assistant masterlist

<< Part 3

Three weeks later, Jake’s café, …

“How can I help you Ms. Y/L/N?" Lloyd was right, his brother Andy looks like he’s got a stick up his ass. He watches you closely as you try to check your CV again. “Miss, I came here to help you. The least you can do is pay attention to me.”

“Stop bugging her,” Lloyd marches toward your table. “We asked you to come here to check if we could sue the Avengers or Stark. Golden boy or not, I want to fuck him over.”

“Lloyd, language,” Andy lifts his gaze from the papers in front of him. He sneers and turns his attention back to the papers.

Lloyd sighs deeply as you say, “I don’t want to sue Mr. Stark or the Avengers." Tony has always been kind to me. What happened was not his fault. I will just move on and get another job.”

“You’re too good for this world, cupcake.”

“I’m just used to things like this, Lloyd,” you say with a cracked smile. “I’m a big girl in any way. Steve Rogers and Sandy are not the first people to harass me and won’t be the last.”

“Miss, I don’t know you very well, but harassment is a crime,” Andy says. “If you don’t want to sue Mr. Stark, I understand. But we can sue Steve Rogers. He was the one harassing you. I will damage his reputation so much he wishes he had never gotten the serum.”

“There he is,” Ari grabs his brother’s shoulders, squeezing hard. “I know you still have it in you. Our bad boy is back!”

“Hands off Ari,” Andy snaps at his brother. It was just legal advice I gave to Miss Y/L/N. It won’t be easy, though. Everyone loves Captain America. If we do this, it’s going to be a long and difficult fight.”

“Can I not shoot him a little?” Lloyd asks.

“What?” You snap your head at Lloyd. “No violence, Lloyd. I just…can we not forget about all of this? Mr. Stark offered to pay me my wages for the rest of the year. He even offered me a better position but…”

“You didn’t want to run into that asshat Rogers,” Jake says. He balances a tray filled with your favorite sins. “All for you, sweetie.”

“Jake, I told you I wanted to lose weight. Your creations don’t help me at all,” you whine as you look at the cupcakes and cookies on the plate Jake places in front of you.

Jake violently shakes his head and says, “No…no, you’ll eat up, Y/N. I made them all for you.”

“Mike is on his way,” Curtis says to the brothers and you at the table. “What is the plan now? Do we sue that blonde boy, or do we break his neck?”

“No breaking necks,” Andy huffs. “You all didn’t change one bit. This domestic façade. The café. The legal business. Nothing can hide who you really are.”

“Well, sunshine,” Lloyd grips the back of Andy’s chair and leans close enough to whisper in Andy’s ear, “we are gangsters. Always were. You didn’t have a problem with taking the money to pay for your study, the house, and all the shiny things your wife wanted you to buy.”

Andy balls his hands into fists. He squares his jaw. His eyes flicker toward you. You can see he tries to hold his anger back as the seconds tick by.

Andy takes several deep breaths. No matter what, he keeps his gaze on you. “I never wanted money. You gave it to me, Lloyd. I knew it was to get rid of me.”

“Nonsense,” Curtis huffs. “You always dreamed big. Daddy’s money wasn’t good enough for you any longer. We weren’t good enough for you. You had started a family and forgot about your brothers.”

“Maybe if your only solution wasn’t violence and threatening people I would’ve stayed. But all of you refused to change and let me give the family business a legal façade and…then I came back, and you’ve got a coffee house chain.”

“Oh, tell Y/N every dirty detail about our business, why don’t you?” Jake snaps at Andy. “We tried to keep her out of this! And this is not a coffeehouse chain. It’s a café, and bakery with a reading corner and free Wi-Fi.”

“What do you mean?" Andy searches your eyes again. “Fuck…you should’ve told me so.”

“Yeah, fuck sunshine,” Lloyd slaps the back of Andy’s head. “Cupcake, I guess the cat is out. Now you are part of the organization. Welcome to the family.”

“What? "I-what?" you ask as you try to figure out what just happened. You assumed Lloyd and his brothers didn’t make money the legal way, but ending up as a part of their criminal organization wasn’t in your plans. “Will I get paid?”

Lloyd throws his head back and starts laughing. He holds his stomach, snorting and chuckling as Jake throws his hands up.

Ari and Curtis shrug while turning their attention to the food on the table. Only Andy still looks at you. “Sorry for my idiot brothers. They are a handful.”

“It’s fine,” you hastily say. “They helped me through a rough patch. And I get free cupcakes here every day.”

“We will find the perfect position in our organization for you. You’ll never have to work for these assholes again,” Lloyd says. He still snorts slightly but tries to keep a straight face. “Just promise me I can pay Mr. Goldilocks back for his behavior.”

“Perfect position."

“…and free cupcakes, “ Jake adds. “We have all this paperwork and most of my brothers hate doing it. I’m the only one taking care of this shit. But I’m busy with the website and marketing. You’ll be an angel saving me from all the paperwork I’m drowning in.”

“Do you want to sue Rogers now or not?” Andy leans back in his chair and looks at you. “Doll, you need to talk to your lawyer.”

“All I want is to forget about Sandy, Steve Rogers, and my former job. I liked working in the tower, but it was never meant to be a long-term position. I wanted to open my own business one day.”

“What kind of business?” Andy asks. He seems to be a bit more relaxed around his brothers now.

“I don’t know. I always liked to bake, and I love flowers…books too. I never thought much about it, to be honest. I dreamed of opening my business, but…”

“You never believed it would actually happen?” he asks. “If you had one wish, what would it be?”

“Can we stop that wishy-washy nonsense now? We still need to find a way to pay that asshole back.”

“Don’t forget Sandy, with Y,” Jake grits out. "I want to pay her back too. She harassed our girl. Y/N is my friend. I won’t let that woman get away with it.”

Five hours later you are curled up on Jake’s comfortable couch. The brothers wanted you to come with them tonight. Rumors say a fight is taking place in New York.

One involving the Avengers.

“Why do you think this place is safer?” You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “Lloyd?”

“You must trust me in this, cupcakes. This house is the safest place in this rotten world,” Lloyd pats your head. "We have prepared a room for you. Upstairs.”

“Got it,” you flutter your eyes shut. “Thank you…all of you…”

“Truth or dare, gentlemen,” Lloyd looks around the table. All seats are taken for the first time in years. “Andy, Mike, welcome back.”

“Lloyd,” Mike nervously glances at his brother, “I wanted to apologize for your car. I will pay you back for it.”

“Good.”

“Lloyd,” Jake pokes his brother’s side. Is there anything else you would like to say to Mike?”

“It’s good that you don’t look like shit anymore,” Lloyd grins. “We are proud of you for fighting your addiction, brother. Welcome home.”

“I came back as Curtis said you needed help with a girl.”

“She needs our help. We're gonna teach Captain America a lesson now that he messed with her," Lloyd whispers.

>> Part 5

The assistant

@babygirl-one-and-only​, @curlycarley​​, @yoruse​​, @nikkitc0703​​, @mswgtsd​, @albinotigerpython​​, @acornacreacure, @liloxclu @mochionly​ @deansonlywife​

#jake jensen #steve rogers x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #ari levinson #andy barber #The assistant (4) - Lawyers #plus-sized reader

[steddilly]

Criminal lawyer Steve Harrington and mob boss Eddie Munson. Everyone thinks Steve is chained to the dangerous man, hell the guy even has the lawyer living in his house to keep him close just in case.

In actuality, they’re married and on days when he isn’t working, Steve is a regular mob wife for his husband. When he’s working, he wears his wedding ring on a chain around his neck, but he wears it happily on his hand when he’s out with Eddie.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #lawyer steve harrington #mob boss eddie munson #married steddie #steve shouts at eddie when he flirts with him in the courtroom #the jury are always guaranteed a show #mob boss au

[imsodishy]

something something King Steve's King Dick

#it's lockpicking lawyer's april fool's vid and it's chock-a-block with dick jokes #steve harrington has a big dick

[bittersweet-in-boston]

Modern no powers mystery fic featuring our favorite two ding dongs - here’s the prologue, chapters will post every day or two over the next week

#stucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #stevebucky #modern au #pre serum steve #lawyer steve rogers #war veteran bucky barnes #shrinkyclinks #kind of? #murder mystery #omg it’s done runs and hides

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Sugar and Spice

Chapter Eighteen

Master List |  Steve Rogers Master List  | Series Master List

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Lawyer!Steve Rogers x OFC Rowan Maddox

Warnings: none

A/N: Thank you, Scribbly, for your Coffee Update that brought about this chapter! Also, the Instagram photos in the title pics are by @theenchantedgalleryofstories. I am FINALLY getting around to using them!!!

I do not tag. For notifications, please subscribe to the story on AO3, or follow the library blog @tilltheendwilliwrite-library

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#sugar and spice #au #Steve Rogers #lawyer!steve rogers #steve x ofc #not sugar daddy kink