#to when my judge x prosecutor ?
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SUPER BADASS LAWYER MAYYYYYYYYY ! WOOOHOO ! FINALLY GOT TO SEE HER WEARING HER SUPER COOL PROFESSIONAL OUTFIT AND BEING THE SMARTEST PERSON IN THE WHOLE COURT ROOM ! LET'S GO !
#To when my gl courtroom drama ?#to when my defense lawyer x prosecutor ?#to when my judge x prosecutor ?#or judge x defense lawyer ?#I just want super smart and cool women fighting each other in court and being rivals in their professional life#but who are unable to take their hands off each other in private#Is that too much too ask ?#pluto#pluto the series#pluto the series ep 5#aioon#ai#oon#aioon x may#oon x may#oonmay
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ꫂ ၴႅၴ Allegation of Love.
Aaron Hotchner x Lawyer!reader
Summary: When you arrive at the police station to defend a client's innocence, you don't expect the man accusing her to be the same man you've been dating for months.
Words: 1,6k.
TW: fem!reader. mentions of crime and serial killers. established relationship. aaron already divorced. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I just love Hotch and wanted to write something with him here. To me, he is definitely the kind of man who is so tired from work that he tries not to mention it on a date (of course, after all the trauma he has been through).
Also, I'm warning you that this is all very chaotic because I'm doing a lot of serious writing lately and I need pink love, comforting and even uncomfortable chaos to relax. So I've been re-watching the first season of the show (sorry, I'm just a girl and not a fan of the last few seasons🥲) and I want to salvage a little of the Hotch we were introduced to before so much misfortune befell him.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
It wasn't that you were annoying, particularly aggressive, or obsessed with being right, you just did your job to the best of your ability. Even if that meant being the villain of other people's stories and mentally going over every law to make sure it was obeyed.
The issue was that not everyone saw it the same way. In the workplace, where you managed, your exact memorization of the rules wasn't always appreciated if you were the one carrying the defense and doing everything to overthrow the other side's theories. For the same reason, you usually had to argue with cops, prosecutors, judges, and—on this occasion—even an FBI agent who wasn't happy with your presence.
You had in your hands an alleged confession of several murders delivered by your client under the coercion of the man who was interrogating her, without your presence there and with some pretty questionable methods to put her in an empty room without concrete evidence or an order from the judge. Unbelievably, it was a fairly common occurrence in your day-to-day work.
At least it was until the boss of the agent you were arguing with showed up and everything started to get complicated.
“What's going on here?”
The cross words and your intensity in emphasizing the injustice of the manipulation of the confession did not allow you to realize that there was someone else in the room. Much less that it was someone who looked exclusively at you until one of the police officers present cleared his throat.
“There has been a violation of the law.” You slowly turned to look behind you, and that's when you saw him.
Aaron stood stiffly, trying to look professional and serious, wearing a tie that matched your dress.
“There wasn't one, Hotch. We just got the confession.” Agent Morgan interjected into the silence provoked by the exchange of glances between you and his supervisor.
For the first time in the half hour you'd been there, you were completely silent. Even when two more agents showed up to try to defuse the situation, you didn't stop repeating the same arguments and insisting on your point. Now, however, you seemed to have lost the ability to speak.
There was a long pause before Aaron spoke carefully. “I'll take care of clarifying the situation.”
Trying to remain serious and stoic, he led you to one of the station's offices with the excuse that he wanted to talk about the case quietly so as not to attract the attention of his team. The strange thing was that he called you by name in front of everyone, without anyone having introduced you before. Maybe one of you two would have noticed if you had been a little less attentive to the other and more attentive to how the situation looked in the other's eyes.
“What are you doing here?” He asked as soon as he closed the door behind you, loosening the tension in his jaw a little, at least now it was just the two of you.
“Where's my 'Good to see you, sweetie. Please don't sue us' or anything like that?”
He raised an eyebrow at your comment, hoping you would take it seriously. Automatically and unconsciously, he had begun to move away from you and sat down on the other side of the desk, marking a distance between the two of you. Aaron had brought out his work side and you had hidden it at the mere sight of him.
“The woman your team pressured into confessing to a crime is my client.” You finally spoke in a serious tone, staring at him with some surprise. This wasn't the usual dynamic with him—you usually had a more relaxed side to him.
“Since when do you take cases like this?”
“Since it's been assigned to me.” You said, raising your shoulders. “One of the buffet partners is on vacation and left me to his clients, as I mentioned the other night.”
The other night when you were in his car, when he had his hand on your thigh as he drove home, when he smiled at you every chance he got to turn around and look at you. When the two of you weren't on completely different sidewalks and weren't supposed to act like strangers.
“This is pretty weird.” You said after watching him for a few seconds and noticing that he seemed lost in his memories. “I hope the agent I was arguing with isn't your friend. That would be awkward.”
Aaron looked at you, trying to figure out what could have happened before he showed up. He already knew you were a good lawyer, very capable and, above all, a good striker. It was too weird for him to think that you had been using your skills against his own team, against the friends he once wanted to introduce you to and that you had now met for the first time in the most unimaginable way.
“What?” You asked.
“Nothing.”
“You look at me like I'm a ghost.”
His brow furrowed again.
He didn't want to say out loud that everything related to his work had ended badly and was completely destroyed, just like his ex-marriage and any attempt to fix it. He had always felt comfortable with you because your work was just as demanding but less dangerous than his. You usually handled family cases, divorces, estates, and coordinating child care. You were away from the blood, the killers, and all the atrocities he lived with.
“I'm worried about you being in the middle of this. It can be dangerous.” He showed his concern for you and had to hold back from holding your hand.
“You should worry more about the lawsuit.” You pointed out in a tone somewhere between teasing and serious. You didn't like him worrying too much. “I'm very good.”
“This is serious.” He finally let his guard down and placed his hand on your knee from under the table, giving it a gentle touch.
That was the man you know and love.
“Me too, it's my job.”
“And you're making my job harder.” He pointed out with a small smile in response to yours.
What were the chances of your love life and work life crossing paths like this? You thought they were pretty slim, which is why you steered clear of talking about work when you were together.
You were just about to answer when you heard a tap on the door and one of the agents who had been watching you during your discussion came over to give Aaron some information about the profile. You couldn't understand him very well because he seemed to be speaking in code because of your presence.
“I'll be there in a moment, Rossi. Get the team together and we'll talk.” Hotchner finished earnestly. You could still feel the warmth of his touch on your knee. “I'm just finishing up here.”
As soon as he left the office, you looked at Aaron with surprise.
“Is he who you always mention?” You asked, and he nodded. “I thought it was 'Rosie,' not 'Rossi,' and that he was a woman.”
“Now I understand why you grimace when I mention his name.” He replied with some amusement. “You were jealous.”
Yes, especially when you found out that they'd shared a room once.
“Don't mock me, I'm about to sue you.” You advertiste in a fake threatening tone, pointing a finger at him. “And I don't care how handsome you look right now, I'll do my job.”
“Me too.” He replied, trying to ignore your compliment to keep a serious expression on his face. “And you look pretty too, I like that dress.”
The love between you seemed to be bubbling anyway, and it was impossible to hide it when you had breakfast together just a few hours ago. You went from making him coffee to offering him a lawsuit if he didn't agree with you.
“I know, I'll use this dress while I debunk your profile theory.” You got up from your seat suddenly after taking your phone out of your bag. It was then that you looked him in the eye. “Are you going to release my client now or should I call the judge?”
“You're not going to take a suspect in five murders. I'm not going to let her off the hook.” He copied your action.
“Give me the evidence then, love.”
Oh, to call him that at that point was a cheap shot, especially when you were the one who won because he had no concrete evidence, only theories and his complex profile.
“But stay away from her anyway, she can be dangerous. My agents will keep an eye on her.” He snorted after a few seconds, trying to find an argument, but failing.
At that moment, you gave him a little smile, proud of yourself and what you had accomplished. “See you at dinner?”
“Sure.” He replied without being able to help but give you a small smile in return. “But I'll pick the place.”
“Well, that's an argument I'll let you win.” You put your phone back in your bag and took a couple of steps towards the door, stopping when you saw him coming after you. “Can I kiss my opponent?”
“This is pretty unprofessional.” He said, putting a hand on your waist and leaning you against the door. Without hesitation, he kissed you firmly on the lips.
After a few minutes, the two of you walked out of the office as if nothing had happened, and the professional scene continued. Your heels clicked towards the exit with your client at your side, while Aaron met with his team, trying to find new ways to solve the case and refine the profile. The only problem was that he happened to be working with people who were very detail-oriented.
And, gosh, it was impossible not to notice the traces of your lipstick on his lips.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch fanfiction#thomas gibson
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Once
Prosecutor!Hotch x reader warnings: language, teasing, semi public sex, smut. This might be my last one shot for a while, I'm likely going to be working on one shots in tandem with the series I want to wrap up, but only be posting the series for a while. This plan is so that when I eventually get back to work (cause yes, we shut down again and the job I was *guaranteed* to have over the break was pulled out from under me at 2am the day we closed by the same ppl who promised it to me...) i have a lot of stuff finished to queue so y'all aren't empty handed lol. Like Hotch and don't want to miss out?! Sign up for the taglist here! Enjoy what you're reading or want to prioritize a request? But me a ko-fi! 🩵🫶🏻
Aaron had been eyeing you up since you’d refused his plea deal back at the precinct, then again, he’d been eyeing you up for what felt like years already. He found it incredibly hard not to, you were always well dressed, clothes fitted, likely designer and tailored perfectly for you, never a hair out of place, your lips coated in a shade that complimented your skin perfectly and made him want to kiss you until he felt drunk. He had yet to win a case against you and shamefully felt like his attraction towards you was more or less the reason, constantly distracted while you did your crosses, feeling admiration at the way you spoke, wrapping the jury around your perfectly manicured finger rather than annoyed that you were swaying them against his client. His eyes raking up your form, trying not to linger to much on your curves perfectly accented by your skirt suits, feeling the rush of adrenaline when you’d suddenly turn back to the gallery, nearly catching his eye before cocking a brow or sending him a smirk, a sure fire sign that you knew you were about to win.
The lingering glances went both ways of course, you happened to be just that much more subtle about it, your eyes on Hotch while your ears were still vehemently listening to his questioning, ready to object whenever you could. You were able to play it off easier than he was, barely giving him a glance before you would redirect the witness and be whisking past him to the stand, a whiff of your perfume enough to intoxicate him for a moment.
It wasn’t a flirtation, it wasn’t a trend of ‘will they, won’t they’ it was rather a game of cat and mouse. Who was going to give in, who was going to be the victor and rightfully claim their prize, though it was a constant guessing game between the two of you of who was the predator and who was the prey. You flaunted yourself more often than he did, clothing in rich colours, pulling focus in the court room, designer heels that brought you up closer to his eyeline, shiny pieces of jewelry placed in just the right spots to have him glancing where he wouldn’t otherwise. Aaron rarely even opted for a colourful tie, leaving practically everything to your imagination, which honestly, you weren’t complaining about.
But it wasn’t just about the over the top professional and shark like performances in the courtroom that drew you to each other. It was the more candid and intimate moments when he would show up at your office to drop off a warrant or barter through an offer. Catching you halfway through lunch, your blazer off, exposing more skin, the curve of your breast peeking out over the top of your blouse when you bent over your desk to grab something. The more casual way you spoke, the way you insulted your client, agreeing that they were an idiot, the way the word ‘fuck’ rolled off your tongue so perfectly he wished he could hear you moaning it.
The judge called for lunch and Aaron felt like he could barely keep up with your stiletto powered steps in the hallway as you sauntered towards the elevator. Quips and teasing jabs were volleyed back and forth as the stern tone of the courtroom dissipated and a playful nature took over between the two of you. Aaron’s large hand, warm and strong was suddenly on your waist, guiding you out of the way of incoming foot traffic and it practically electrified your senses. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, nails tickling his skin and he felt himself twitch in his pants, suddenly intoxicated by the smell of your shampoo as your head whipped around to look at him.
Neither of you were entirely sure how you’d ended up behind the locked door of a spare witness prep room, but you weren’t going to complain about the way Aaron had you pinned up against the wall as he kissed you. There was a fire behind it, deep and passionate as you battled for dominance, one of his hands on your hips, pressing you harder into the wall while the other one tangled into your hair. Your hands looped over his shoulders, nails scratching at his scalp while you tried to resist the urge to wrap your legs around his waist. You nipped at his lower lip and he retaliated by slipping his tongue into your mouth, commanding the kiss, his hand cupping your cheek, holding you directly where he wanted as his hips rolled against yours, pressing his growing hard on into you. You couldn’t help the moan you let out into the kiss, your tongue moving with grace right along Aaron’s, his free hand crept up your body, palming at your chest and you broke the kiss with a gasp. He took full advantage, mouth moving across your jaw until he was peppering kisses down the side of your neck and your hands were tugging at your blazer, dropping it to the floor once it was off your body.
“This is a one time thing!” You panted, hands clawing at his back as his teeth sunk into your neck, his head nodding ever so slightly when his tongue lapped out to soothe the burn of the bite. You felt the tingle burn its way through you, starting from where his mouth was on you, working down you body to where he was pawing at your chest, all the way to in between your legs where it burst into flame.
“Now why would you say that?” He muttered, a devilish smile on his kiss swollen lips and a dark gleam in eyes and you huffed, grabbing his wrist to direct his hands back to your body.
“Oh just shut up and stop being a tease.” You growled and he laughed.
“Yes Counselor.”
Aaron ducked his head once again, but this time to the other side of your neck, leaving a trail of messy kisses up it until he reached your lips again, swallowing down your moans and whimpers. Your leg wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you so you could roll your hips, your panties dampening with each time your cunt brushed at his clothed cock. He let out a small groan, his cock throbbing in his pants at just the thought of being buried deep inside you. His hands found the hem of your skirt, bunching it up around your waist before one of them sunk between your legs, palming at you through the flimsy fabric of your underwear. He moaned against your lips, the heel of his hand rubbing at your clit while his fingers gently massaged your pussy, your hips jolted toward the touch, a whine escaping your lips before you nipped at his.
A smirk broke out on his lips at your neediness and he nudged your panties to the side, fingers running through your folds, collecting your wetness before rubbing at your clit. You broke the kiss with a gasp, your forehead resting on his as you panted, whimpers and quiet moans coming from your lips.
“Please…” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut at the way he was toying with you and he swiftly slid two fingers into your pussy, letting out a groan as he did so.
“Fuck sweetheart.” He cooed, “you’re so wet.” His fingers began lazily pumping, the heel of his hand still brushing over your swollen clit with each thrust.
“What did I say about teasing?” You grumbled, a hand sinking between your bodies to palm at his cock through his pants and he let out a hiss, his fingers curling inside you. Your breath caught in your throat, hips grinding down into his touch.
“Have to warm you up honey…” he groaned softly, rocking his hips into your hand, “don’t want to hurt you.”
You could only manage a noncoherent string of words, muffled by his shoulder as your head fell forward when his fingers curled inside you again, hitting your g-spot on the first try. Your pussy began to flutter around him as he scissored and curled his fingers, your juices leaking down his wrist. His free hand began to paw at the neckline of your shirt, pulling it down just enough to pull your tits out and his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth and you let out a moan, your head falling back onto the wall behind you. The hand Aaron had inside you picked up the pace, thrusting deeper into you, wet sounds from your pussy accompanying your quiet moans while your thighs trembled. Your hands shot to his belt, quickly undoing it in order to actually get into his pants and he groaned against your skin when your hand rubbed at his cock through his briefs, the leaking beads of pre-cum smearing against the fabric. Your fingers slid into the waistband of his briefs, shoving them and his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free and his teeth sunk into the curve of your chest as the cool air sent a shiver of pleasure through his body.
“This feels dirty.” You muttered, palming at his length and he chuckled, finally pulling away from your chest as his fingers continued to stretch you out. A piece of his normally styled hair fell forward over his forehead as he glanced down at you with dark eyes, his breath hot on your lips when he spoke.
“That’s because it is.”
“Then hurry up and fuck me already.” You groaned, your body jolting as he curled his fingers once more before pulling them out of your cunt and you let out a whine, grabbing his wrist to suck his fingers into your mouth, tongue lapping around them to get all your juices off.
“Fuck..” Aaron felt any coherent thought leave his brain as his cock throbbed, your eyes not leaving his until your lips parted with a gasp and you let his fingers drop from your mouth and he was able to surge forward, capturing you in a kiss, tongue diving into your mouth in an attempt to taste you. “I don’t have a condom.” He murmured against your lips and your leg wound around his waist again, grinding your pussy against his pulsing cock.
“I don’t fucking care.”
That was all he needed to wrap a hand around his cock, lining it up with your soaked pussy before thrusting forward and sinking fully into you. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his waist as he shoved you into the wall, hips meeting yours as his head buried into the crook of your neck, your cunt already fluttering around him.
“Fuck…” The swear was mutual, you’d never felt so full and stretched out as you were around him, his cock reaching deeper inside you than you’d ever imagined. You were so wet, so warm, Aaron felt like he could combust in that exact moment, but he knew he wanted to feel you for so much longer.
Reluctantly, he pulled out until just the tip was still wrapped in your pussy and set a steady pace fucking you against the wall, knowing neither of you really had that much time. Your whimpers and moans right in his ear were more than enough to drive him wild, picking up the pace, feeling the way your cunt was squeezing around him with each thrust. Your hands clawed at his back, one wrapping around the back of his head, fingers threading through his previously perfectly styled hair. Your lips latched onto the side of his neck directly below his ear, the only visible spot of skin in that area, leaving sticky kisses. In any other moment he’d be worried about the shade of your lipstick transferring to his collar but right now all he could think about was how your pussy felt wrapped around him.
Each thrust of Aaron’s hips you could feel every ridge and vein of his cock dragging over your walls, every time you squeezed around him you could feel him twitch inside you and it drove you wild. He started to grope at your chest again and your head fell back against the wall, thighs trembling around his waist.
“Fuck that feels good.” You murmured, and he fucked into you harder, his hips snapping into yours and you nearly let out a yelp.
“Quiet pretty girl.” He panted, his hand quickly clapping over your mouth, “can’t have anyone know what we’re up to.”
You nodded the best you could, your moans and whines now muffled by his large hand, your breath hot on his fingers. The sensation made his dick twitch inside you, a low swear on his breath when your lips began to kiss at his hand, your tongue surging out, wrapping around one of the digits and pulling it into your mouth. Aaron knew he wasn’t going to last very long with the way you were sucking on his fingers, your moans muffled around them while he fucked deeper into you, his cock absolutely throbbing while your thighs gripped around his waist tighter. His free hand sunk between your bodies, finding your clit and beginning to rub, your teeth scraped against his fingers when he increased the pressure, matching the speed of his thrusts.
Your pussy clenched down around his cock, juices smearing around him with each pass of his fingers and your head dropped against the wall again. Pleasure was shooting through you and if it wasn’t for his hand covering your mouth you were certain the entire floor would know exactly what you were up to. Aaron had you seeing stars already, your body shivering between his and the wall before he nipped at your earlobe,
“Gonna need you to come for me gorgeous.” He panted, his brow slick with sweat, doing his best to hold back his own orgasm until he’d made you come around his cock.
“Fuck!” It came out the best it could under his hand while your body convulsed, thighs gripping incredibly tight around his waist as your back arched off the wall, pussy pulsing around his cock.
Aaron fucked you through you orgasm, slowing the pace of his hips until you were no longer shaking in his arms and one of your legs dropped from around his waist and you started to relax against the wall. A second later and he was slipping out of you, spinning you in his arms to bend you over the table in the center of the room.
A moan broke free from the back of your throat as he re-entered you, his cock a throbbing mess, coated in your cum as he began to chase his own orgasm. A hand tangled into your hair, pulling you up off the table and flush to his chest.
“God you feel so good.” He grunted and you chuckled softly.
“Yeah?” You asked, head turning back to husk into his ear, “you like that Hotchner? The way your thick cock feels buried deep in my wet pussy?” You squeezed as hard as you could around him and he let out a hiss.
“Fuck.” The hand in your hair tightened, “do that again and I’m gonna come.”
“Yeah?” You purred, squeezing your cunt around him once more, holding it for longer as you felt him beginning to pulse inside you, “come for me Aaron, fill my pretty pussy up with your cum.”
“Shit!” His hips faltered against yours as his grip on you loosened and you barely caught yourself on the table as he pounded the last couple of thrusts into you before he let out a low groan, stilling against you.
A very satisfied sigh left your lips at the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you while his cum painted your walls. Aaron was careful, catching his breath as he squeezed at the base of his dick, making sure every last drop of cum was buried deep in your cunt before he slowly slipped out. Part of him was tempted to see if any of it dripped down your thighs, but he was starting to come back to his senses, tucking your panties back into place, pressing them against your swollen pussy lips to catch all of his release.
“You alright?” He asked, his hand soothing up your back, readjusting your skirt before he tucked himself back into his pants.
“Never better.” You replied with a sigh, pushing yourself back upright. Confident you were no longer on shaky legs you stepped over to the mirror, tugging your shirt back into place, fixing your hair and slightly smeared lipstick.
“Here.” Aaron handed you a paper cup of water from the water cooler and you chuckled.
“Such a gentleman.” You teased, taking a sip before reaching up, fixing his mussed up hair and wiping the remnants of your lipstick from his collar. You were about to tease him again when your phone pinged a couple of times and you pulled it out from your bag, “jury’s back. Guess now we’ll find out who really came out on top.”
Shooting him a wink you were gone from the room before he even managed to fully collect himself and his thoughts, slipping back into the courtroom and behind his respective table just in time. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised twenty minutes later when the jury came back fully in favour of you and you were looking over at him with a cocky smirk as everyone packed their things up.
“Well,” he stepped to your side of the room once you were up, “congratulations counselor.” He stuck his hand out for you to shake and you took it after a small laugh, “can I buy you a celebratory drink?”
“Oh Hotchner.” You chuckled, stepping closer to him, “you know the general guideline is that you’re supposed to buy the drink prior to when your cum is dripping out of my cunt.”
“So is that a yes?”
“I seem to remember telling you that was a one time thing.”
Part 2
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@svushots @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchandspencearedilfs @mina2000alex @telepathay @darlingsfandom @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat @hopedoesntknow @thehauntingofbasingse @plaidbooks @niyizh @tommyriddleobsessed @supercriminalbean @hotchs-bitch @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @emlynblack @ivyflowers13 @ratsnestinmyhair @silversprings-mp3 @ssaaaronhotchnerr @itsrainingreid @speedynana @tgskitten @madamsnape921 @aaronandemilysbitch @mrs-ssa-hotch @nachofriess @khxna @tinyprettyangel @cx-emerald-cx x @momily @acctualdeemon @ch3rry-pops @moonlightjxuregui @int4n @hotchfiles
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds#once#criminal minds fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfic
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The Doubt & The Delight
[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, description of physical and mental disabilities, remorse, depression, hysteria attacks, swearing, trauma, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt ]
[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]
Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.
Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Epilogue
Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet
This is the last part of this story. Thank you all for such a nice reception of this entire mini-series, it was supposed to be a oneshot, but as usual it turned out to be something more! This is probably one of my favorite works here and I can't wait to hear your opinions.
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous chapters: Masterlist
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That night, after what had happened between them, he sobbed silently for the first time since the day of the accident in which his parents died. He didn't know what else he could do − he felt helpless and couldn't sleep, despair completely possessing his heart and mind.
Don't ever touch me again.
We are even.
He clenched his eyelids, letting the tears run down the sides of his face onto the pillow lying under his head.
Some part of him wanted to go to her door, to fall to his knees and beg her to open it for him, to let him hold her close, to fall asleep in her embrace.
He needed her so much, but he knew he had no right to demand anything from her.
She was doing more than she had to anyway.
He shuddered as he heard the sound of the door opening; stupefied by the sedatives and painkillers for a moment he had no idea where he was or who he was − he raised himself up on his elbow and hissed, feeling his head ache incredibly.
He opened his eyelids and immediately closed them, blinded by the light from the windows − he gave up with a sigh laying back on the couch, trying to calm himself down.
"Daeron?" He called out loudly, trying to remember what had happened, whether he had drunk too much alcohol the evening before or overdosed on sleeping pills.
He heard someone's footsteps and froze when he saw her frightened face; she came towards him with her eyes wide open as if looking at a ghost, stopping at a safe distance.
"− I'm just helping him change, we'll come soon − God, how pale you are, should I call the doctor again? −" She muttered clearly genuinely horrified by his condition, but he shook his head quickly.
"− did you call the police yesterday? −" He asked lowly, thinking with horror that no one at the prosecutor's office could find out that he was still struggling with his trauma and had almost caused a car crash.
She shook her head quickly, playing with the fingers of her hand in a nervous gesture.
"− n-no − the man we almost collided with wanted to do it at first, but when we got out of the car and said you'd fainted he called an ambulance and let it go − he apparently decided you'd just had some sort of attack and didn't want to add to our problems −" She replied once looking him in the eye, once looking away − he could see that she clearly wasn't coping with the situation or what had happened between them.
He sighed in relief, running his hand over his face, thinking about the fact that securing Daeron's fate was now his priority and he needed to pull himself together.
"− I'm going to go help Daeron and we'll make something for breakfast soon −" She said quickly and turned away, moving down the corridor towards his little brother's room, disappearing behind the door.
The two of them had tried not to look at each other all morning, heartbroken and horrified by what had happened between them − they both felt that their lives had slipped out of their control and he resented himself for dragging her into it all.
The doctors advised him to stay at home for a few days and rest, so he called Alys to ask her to bring him his documentation.
"− sick leave? − something happened? −" She asked concerned, and he sighed heavily, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, not having the strength for this discussion.
"− I've been overworking lately, I need to slow down − can I count on you? −" He asked matter-of-factly, hearing her snort of amusement on the other side.
"− sure − I'll be there in half an hour −" She replied calmly and hung up; he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and put the phone down on the table top.
He glanced over his shoulder, hearing the sizzle of the pan and shuddered meeting her gaze − she lowered her eyes immediately as if caught in the act, concentrating on not burning the pancakes, Daeron wheeled around her in his wheelchair placing clean plates and cutlery beside her.
They ate breakfast together, both of them really only talking to Daeron, passing cups and juice to each other out of politeness only. He felt a pleasant shudder when his fingers touched hers, looking her straight in the eyes − her lower lip twitched a little, only a quiet, sad thank you came out of her mouth.
As they ate Daeron said he would do his own homework and then change her to look after him, as if he was now the one to take on the role of his caretaker.
As he left his Esmeralda stood up, picking up the dirty dishes from the countertop − he took his plate from her hand, swallowing hard.
"− no need, I'll do it − I'm better now, I don't want to force you to stay here any longer than necessary − thank you very much −" He said in a low voice, getting up from his seat and stepping around her, opening the dishwasher with a light movement, tossing in the cutlery and other dirty dishes she'd held earlier.
He felt her looking at him, his heart pounding like crazy, for some reason he wanted to cry again.
"− I'm sorry − for what happened yesterday −" She muttered in a whisper and he raised his shocked gaze to her, frozen still.
She stood in front of him covering her mouth with her hand, trying to silence the loud, ragged breath that shook her body along with the sob that wanted to break from her throat, tears began to fall from the corners of her eyes one after another.
God, she was remorseful.
"− no − no, stop − you didn't do anything wrong, I wanted it −" He said quickly, but she shook her head.
"− I couldn't sleep − I felt awful −" She uttered with difficulty, choking on her own tears, and despite her telling him never to touch her again he put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him in one sure movement − her body did not put up any resistance to him, her fingers tightened on his sweatshirt in a helpless gesture.
"− I-I'm sorry − I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you −" She mumbled out and burst into quiet sobs.
He thought with despair that he had broken this poor girl, brought her to a state where she felt like an abuser.
He embraced her tightly, snuggling his face into the hollow of her neck, stroking her back reassuringly − her wonderful scent and the warmth of her body had a soothing effect on him, he thought he wanted to remember this moment for a lifetime.
"− I'm the one who hurt you − I took something away from you and you tried to get it back − you asked me if I wanted it and I made it clear that I did − easy − breathe deeply − it's all right −" He whispered in a trembling voice, running his large hand through her back and hair. She snuggled into him so tightly that he felt tears under his eyelids himself − he pressed his lips together not wanting to let them flow out but it was no use.
"− thank you for everything − I'm feeling better now, I'll be fine by the time Helaena arrives − go home and get some rest − I'll think of something and explain to Daeron why you can't work for us anymore − I'll send you your pay by transfer so you never have to see me again − hm? −" He asked softly and she only nodded, her whole chest trembling in convulsion as she drew in a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
He wanted to tell her that he loved her.
He wanted to tell her that she was the most wonderful person he had ever met.
He wanted to tell her that if she ever needed help, she could always count on him.
He wanted to do that, but he only flinched when he heard the doorbell ring, reminding himself of Alys − they moved away looking at each other in pain, the sight of her wiping her cheeks red from tears broke his heart.
He realised that he was a monster.
As soon as he opened the gate for her, Alys walked into his house with thick folders of documents in her hands, looking elegant as usual in her jacket, long trousers and high heels. She smiled at the sight of his Esmeralda, and she pressed her lips together realising with horror that she stood dressed only in his hoodie.
"Good morning. We don't know each other yet." Alys said to her and held out her hand to her − she, not knowing what to do, herself embarrassed by the situation and how it looked shook her hand, squeezing it firmly.
"Good morning." She muttered and just threw to him that she was going to go see how Daeron was doing with his homework − Alys led her away with her eyes looking at her with a calm, curious expression on her face.
"Who is this beautiful little flower? In addition wearing your hoodie I think." She asked amused, a note of mock accusation in her voice, as if she had solved the equation. "Is it because of her that you can't concentrate lately?"
He threw her one warning, sharp look, which did not deter her, however − he sighed heavily and shook his head.
"She's Daeron's caretaker and she had to stay here to help me take care of him after I fainted yesterday. They were at a carnival ball together and she had nothing to change into." He replied coolly, wanting to end the subject quickly, frustrated.
"Is that why you both cried?" She asked lowly raising an eyebrow, the piercing look in her bright green eyes told him clearly that she felt the tension that hung in the air between them. He swallowed loudly, looking away, not wanting to look at her smile full of satisfaction.
"Thank you for bothering to come all the way out here. I'll be gone for a week, we're in touch." He replied dryly − she threw over his shoulder that if he needed her for anything he could count on her and smiled at his Esmeralda heading for the exit, saying it was a pleasure to meet her.
As the door closed behind her there was an awkward silence between them. He saw that she was wearing his hoodie and shorts that were too loose on his brother but on her they fit perfectly despite the manly cut, in her hand she held the bag with her costume.
She was leaving.
He will never see her again.
"Are you sure you can manage?" She asked uncertainly, not looking at him. She seemed pale to him, he thought that for some reason Alys' visit had saddened her, but he didn't even dare assume it might have had anything to do with him.
At most, she might have thought he was a bigger bastard and pervert than she suspected.
"Yes, we'll be fine. Thanks again." He muttered, trying not to look at her, but to poor effect, thinking only of how wonderful it was to hold her in his arms, how tightly she snuggled into him seeking refuge and comfort.
He realised that he craved such closeness from her as much as the touch of her naked body.
He wasn't just about sex.
She, however, merely nodded, raising her sad, tired, embittered gaze at him once more, and after a moment she turned and disappeared behind the door.
The hours leading up to Helaena's arrival he spent with Daeron, playing together FIFA'23 and other games that his brother thought would distract him from all the unpleasant events of the past weeks.
"Don't worry, everything will be fine. You just need to rest. It's good that you and Esmeralda have reconciled." He said clicking beside him on his pad, trying to win a race against him on the big space track. He swallowed hard, thinking with pain and shame that they hadn't reconciled at all, that they weren't even.
What she did was a desperate attempt by her to regain what he had taken from her, the feeling that she had power over her own body.
It didn't bring her any relief though − it seemed to him that it made her feel even worse.
She wasn't like him − she'd probably never behaved like this before, and she was horrified to find that she didn't recognise herself.
He had destroyed her, taken away her innocence, devoured her.
He pressed his lips together, trying to stop the burning tears that forced their way under his eyelids from flowing and grunted loudly, trying to focus on the game.
As he prepared the room where his sister was to sleep, and where his Esmeralda had previously spent the night, he noticed a purple cloth lying on the floor. He reached out and picked it up, realising after a moment that it was a scarf she had worn on her head in the form of a headband.
He pressed it to his face and closed his eyes, with a squeeze in his throat thinking that the material was permeated with her scent.
He kept it.
Helaena had arrived straight from the airport in a taxi for which she had paid crores − as soon as she stepped inside she dropped her suitcase, ran up to him and threw herself into his arms. He burst out sobbing, feeling her familiar, tender closeness.
He wasn't sure when was the last time someone had hugged him, stroked him, told him everything was going to be alright, that now he was the one being taken care of.
Taking the opportunity that Daeron was playing in his room on his laptop, they sat side by side on the living room couch to discuss what had happened.
"I think I've stopped coping. I'm slowly losing my self-control." He muttered, burying his face in his hands, feeling that he needed to at least partially throw off what was going on inside his head − he felt his sister stroking his back comfortingly.
"Me and Aegon left you alone with all of this, sinking into our own grief. We all focused on Daeron because we decided you were older and better able to handle it all." She said with pain and some kind of regret, as if she only now realised that he wasn't a fully formed adult then either.
He let the air out of his lungs, feeling like a small, clumsy child again, embarrassed that he wasn't coping, that he had chaos in his head, that he was stuck and unable to get out of the mess he had sunk all the way into.
"I thought it would be good for you to have a change. For you and Daeron to fly with me for a few weeks, get some rest, during which time we can work together to find you some sort of therapist, someone to help you get over all this." She said warmly, and he shook his head quickly, terrified of her suggestion, of having to reinvent himself somewhere, of not being in his home, of not having his things and activities.
"No, I can't do that. I need a rest, but here, at home. I do think, however, that it will do Daeron good to spend time with you, to get away from it all. Maybe when I have a bit of time to myself I can somehow…sort it all out." He muttered, feeling her worried gaze on him.
"You shouldn't be left alone."
"I haven't been alone with my thoughts for five years. I need this." He said regretfully, realising that he had devoted all his strength to his younger brother, leaving himself with nothing.
He felt empty.
"And he needs a change of environment. He sees me gloomy and tired every day. You will help me the most if you take care of him for a week or two so that I can get myself in order."
"You have to promise me that you will go to therapy. You're taking on too much on your shoulders." She said cautiously, and he nodded to her, wanting everyone to finally give him a break.
Daeron was at the same time happy about the sudden unplanned holiday, but on the other hand very worried that he was going to be left alone at home.
"But who will take care of you? Esmeralda?" He asked hesitantly, and he replied that he would manage on his own, that they would talk on the phone every day, that he just needed a bit of rest to think things over.
As they packed to leave he was with them in body, but not in thoughts which drifted far away to her, to what had happened between them.
Despite the fact that they had sex with each other twice, it was the memory of that morning in his kitchen when he held her in his embrace that he remembered most, the innocence and tenderness of that gesture, the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, the fact that for a moment she had allowed him to get close to her.
He knew he would never see her again.
Waving them off, already seated in the taxi, watching them drive away he wondered what the point of living such a terrible person like him was.
He cleaned the whole house, sorted the papers in his office, put up the laundry and emptied the dishwasher, doing everything unhurriedly with complete silence all around him, only the sound of the wind outside the windows and the quiet pounding of raindrops against the windowsills.
He finally sat down on the sofa, staring dully ahead, before lowering his gaze to the small container of sleeping pills he'd been taking for days to get at least a few hours of sleep.
He wondered how many he'd have to swallow to not wake up.
He didn't know why his hand reached for his phone − his fingers tapped out a question on Google and, to his surprise, many different topics on forums about how to commit suicide painlessly popped up.
He read statements from some young, desperate, frightened people who couldn't cope with life and responses from others, some encouraging them to commit the act and explaining how to do it, others asking them not to do it, that they would be happy to talk to them, to support them through this difficult time.
He thought of Daeron, of how if he had done it, his little brother would have completely broken down, that it would only add to the pain of his whole family, and that Helaena would never forgive herself for leaving him alone.
That it would have been selfish of him.
On the other hand, his mind reminded him of his aggressive, merciless interrogations, the way he approached witnesses, the way he approached Alys, what he did to his Esmeralda when she recognised at once his malicious, dark nature.
How was someone like him supposed to continue to take care of Daeron? How was he supposed to pretend that he was a good man who could advise him on anything, be his authority?
He thought that his little brother should have stayed with Helaena − she was the calmest of them all, surely she would have handled his parenting much better, given him what he needed.
He reached for a small container of pills and stared at it, turning it between his fingers with a loud rattle, wondering dispassionately what he should do with himself.
He hummed as if he remembered something and slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a thin, purple folded cloth − he looked at it, feeling the need to call her.
He didn't know why he would do that when he was sure she didn't want to see him and couldn't even look at Daeron, to whom he would have to explain why she would no longer be taking care of him upon his return.
He guessed that she would only pick up out of politeness, and he would again flood her with his problems, his suicidal thoughts, forcing her to worry about him, to feel sorry for him even though he didn't deserve her sympathy.
He didn't even know when he unscrewed the container, when he tilted his head and poured its entire contents into his mouth, taking a deep sip of water after this, letting his judgment of himself run deep into his stomach.
He seemed to regain his sanity only after a moment, staring at the empty vessel wondering what he had actually done.
Oh fuck.
God, what had he done?
No, no, no, no.
He went into a complete panic, his heart started pounding like crazy − he didn't know how much time he had before he lost consciousness, so in a gesture of helplessness he dialled her number quickly, wondering if she would answer from him this time.
He thought he was pathetic, but he was scared, there was no one else to turn to − his body was shaking all over from stress and terror, his breathing quick and raspy, tears of fear in his eyes.
Biip.
Biip.
Biip.
Biip.
Biip.
Biip.
Biip.
"− hello? −"
He heard her uncertain voice on the other side and drew in the air loudly, shocked, swallowing hard, taking a deep breath, running his hand over his face.
"− fuck − I − I − I did something very, very stupid − I took a whole packet of sleeping pills − I don't know what came over me − oh fuck, what have I done −" He muttered in a squeaky, high-pitched voice, like a helpless child who had broken a vase and realised what his parent would do to him when they found out.
"− what? − oh God − are you home? − I'm calling the ambulance −"
"− n-no − no, fuck, they'll kick me out of the national prosecutor's office − please −"
"− go quickly to the bathroom and try to induce vomiting − give me the code to your gate, I'll be right there −"
He seemed to act in an amok, as he rose from the couch everything around him swirled − she told him to take his phone to the restroom, so he did.
He fell to his knees in front of the toilet, shoving two fingers down his throat − after several attempts he finally threw up, whooping with his tears, coughing loudly, his whole body shaking in convulsions, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.
How could he do this, how could he be so selfish?
"− I'm sorry −" He mumbled, sliding slowly to the ground, feeling his mind begin to envelope in a blissful peace and quiet, her voice coming from the speaker of his phone seemed to him only a distant whisper.
He thought he would take a nap for a while, rest and when he woke up everything would be fine.
It seemed to him that minutes, hours or years might have passed when he felt someone move his body − he shuddered as someone's fingers forced their way between his lips, his numb body powerless to resist.
"− come on, please − get it out of you − God, what have you done − please, please, come on −" He heard her crying beside him, the tips of her fingers pressing against the back of his tongue, until finally his stomach convulsed with a powerful spasm, and his body threw it all out with his throaty cough of exertion.
He heard her sobs, smelled her scent, her closeness, how her hands washed his face with water, how she stroked his head as she hugged him to her breasts, mumbling in despair that he was a fool, something warm and soft enveloped them.
He fell asleep, recognising that this was what heaven must have been like.
When he woke up he felt everything around him spinning − he muttered in displeasure, another cramp squeezing his stomach.
He pulled himself up, in the dark looking for the toilet, at the last moment leaning over it and vomited again, panting loudly, everything around him blurred, it seemed to him that it was morning.
He heard movement beside him − someone's hand touched his back and stroked him with a gentle, affectionate gesture as convulsion again shook his body, which was trying with all its might to rid itself of what he had swallowed the day before.
Nothing more than a mumble left his mouth, his head drooped involuntarily − he felt someone pull him back to keep him from sliding down onto the tiles. He lay down, something soft enveloped him again.
"− it's okay − sleep −" He heard her whisper and thought that the pills he had taken were causing him to hallucinate, that he was probably dreaming it all, and since he was and she wasn't really there he could embrace her, his arm grabbed her waist, his face snuggled between her breasts again with his loud purr of contentment and exhaustion.
He felt her hands embrace him, stroking his head and back − he thought, feeling the hard floor beneath him, that they were lying in the bathroom and she must have brought the duvet and pillows from his bedroom, sleeping in that room with him.
He fell asleep and woke up hearing someone walking around his house, once in a while someone touched his head − he heard her voice asking him some questions that he was unable to focus on − she was only answered by his frustrated sounds indicating that he just wanted to sleep on.
Finally when he opened his eyes he managed to see anything − the bathroom door was open, the light in the room was off. He had a perfect view of the corridor and part of the living room lit up in the sun − he heard someone's footsteps, his heart jumped into his throat when he saw her silhouette in the doorway.
"− hey − hey, how are you feeling? −" She muttered walking up to him and kneeling beside him, her loose hair in a slight disarray, she was wearing shorts and a plain white Tshirt. He looked away from her breasts when he noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, swallowing hard.
He didn't reply, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame, remembering what he had done, how disgusting and selfish he had acted, that he had forced her to help him again despite having caused her such harm.
"�� I − I would like to talk to some therapist −" He choked out with tears in his eyes, not looking at her but somewhere in front of him, his breathing shallow and uneven − it seemed to him as if his lungs had completely clenched.
"− alright − alright, I'll look for someone nearby − okay? −" She asked tentatively and he just nodded, unable to look her in the eye. He heard her get up quickly, and a moment later she was back, sitting down next to him with her phone in her hand, typing something quickly on her screen, apparently scrolling through the accounts of doctors who had offices in the same town.
"− there's a Dr Smith, he's got a free appointment in two days at one o'clock in the afternoon, or a Dr Morgan, but he… −"
"− anyone − as soon as possible −" He said dispassionately, looking blankly ahead, heard her swallow hard and click something quickly, heard his phone vibrate beside him on the floor.
"− I've booked you an appointment and sent you details via message −" She mumbled, and he nodded.
"− thank you − you can −"
"− I spoke to your sister on the phone while you were asleep and told her everything − we agreed that Daeron will stay with her and I'll watch over you until your first appointment −" She said coldly with some kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his throat. He pressed his lips together, feeling his body tremble and closed his eyes, wanting to just disappear.
He shuddered, looking at her in disbelief as she slipped her purple scarf out of the pocket of her tracksuit shorts, the same one he'd found on the floor and kept. She tied her hair with it, combing it into a ponytail, staring straight into his eyes.
"I found this on your couch. Did you think of me before you did it?" She asked, with soft, sure flicks of her fingers arranging her curls as she saw fit. He swallowed hard at her question, feeling a burning sense of embarrassment.
"− yes −" He sighed. She let out a quiet breath at his words, placing her hands on her thighs.
"− are you able to get up? −"
With her help he managed to rise with difficulty − he brushed his teeth feeling the still disgusting taste of vomit and acid on his tongue and then lay down on the sofa, grabbing his head. He watched her silhouetted in the kitchen as she opened the cupboards one by one until she found his first aid kit.
He saw her throw away all the packets of sleeping pills he had.
"− hey −" He threw to her wrinkling his eyebrows, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep a wink without them.
"− you'd better not speak −" She said warningly, without giving him a single glance, so he gave in, sighing heavily and closing his eyes, figuring there was no point in arguing.
To his surprise she moved around the rooms as if this was her home, sat down next to him at the other end of the sofa with an apple in her hand and turned on the TV as if nothing had happened. He looked at her, wondering if she was really going to sit here for days, but then decided it didn't matter.
When he finally got the phone call from Helaena he listened to almost half an hour of a litany from her about how irresponsible and selfish he was, only to hear a moment later that she loved him very much and that he needed to start taking care of himself − he assured her several times that he already had an appointment with a therapist, and Esmeralda wouldn't leave his side.
"− is that what you call me? −" She asked quietly after he had hung up, looking at the TV screen on which the news had just been airing. He looked at her surprised, realising that it wasn't actually her real name after all.
"− yes −" He replied lowly, playing with his phone between his fingers.
They didn't talk much to each other apart from the usual basic politeness. After a couple of hours he felt well enough to get up − he was still dizzy and still had no appetite, but he drank plenty of water and thought with relief that the danger had passed.
Evening finally fell and, tired after all that had happened, he simply headed upstairs to his bedroom, wanting to give her some solitude and privacy.
Changing into his pyjamas, which consisted of a simple t-shirt and black tracksuit bottoms, he shuddered and looked in disbelief at the door to his room when it opened, her figure stepping inside as if nothing had happened, climbing on his bed, lying under his duvet, turning her back to him.
What?
He pressed his lips together, wondering if he should say something or not, but in the end he couldn't resist.
"What are you doing?"
"I want to sleep. I'm tired. Could you turn out the light?" She asked quietly.
He grunted and, as she requested, walked over to the switch, flicking it, complete darkness fell all around them.
The thought that she was going to sleep in the same bed with him, even if only to keep an eye on him, made him instantly hard.
He lay down at a safer distance behind her, looking at her back and neck, knowing that she could feel his breath, but not daring to touch her.
He wondered if she was punishing him this way, showing him that she was at his fingertips, but after what he had done there was nothing else he could do but watch.
It would have been enough for him if he could have just jerked off looking at her, concentrating on her scent and the fact that she was next to him, but he felt he had no right to bring himself relief after all of this.
He didn't deserve it.
That's why he was just dying in agony, writhing − without his pills despite his fatigue he could not fall asleep, on top of that he was too aroused, her closeness was driving him crazy.
"− will you stop squirming? − I can't sleep −" She muttered at last, raising herself up on her elbow, looking at him with furrowed brows.
He felt his lips part involuntarily in desire at the sight of her face, at the thought that she didn't have a bra under her shirt, that there were her lovely breasts under that material that he could caress all night.
"− sorry −" He just choked out, trying to calm his breathing, his cock pulsed painfully swollen under the material of his sweatpants.
He made big eyes and flinched, embarrassed as she pushed back the duvet that covered them both, her gaze going to his trousers and what was going on inside them.
A tense silence fell between them − he could feel his whole body quivering with desire, grief and shame.
He wondered if she would mock his state and his desperation.
"− we can do it if you want − like civilised people − I'd like to experience some sleep tonight −" She said softly and he looked at her in disbelief, the bulge in his sweatpants twitched hard at her words.
"− are you sure? − I wouldn't −"
"− make me feel good −" She said quietly.
He drew in the air loudly as she said this, grabbing the material of her t-shirt and lifting it, pulling it over her head, revealing her lovely breasts to him.
She sighed loudly when his face immediately pressed against her nipple, alternately sucking and licking it with the tip of his tongue, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her back. She moaned quietly, surprised when he pulled her to him, her palms sliding into his hair, holding him close.
They lay on their sides, embracing each other in a tight grasp. He wriggled in disbelief and delight, willing and eager to show her how much he regretted it, how much he desired her, how much he loved her − his hand grasped tentatively her other breast, kneading it with his fingers.
"− so soft −" He gasped, listening to her quiet sighs of pleasure. He felt her throw her leg against his waist, which he grasped confidently, clenching his fingers on her thigh and pulled her closer, letting her feel how much he wanted her, his manhood throbbed impatiently beneath his trousers, hitting her stomach.
"− how −" He asked between flicks of his tongue licking and sucking her hard, puffy nipple like a little child, stroking the soft skin of her hips. He slipped his hand under the material of her shorts, tracing his fingertips over her plump buttocks, wanting to be sure that this time he would do everything the way she needed it, give her pleasure and reassurance, at the pace and the way she wanted it.
She stroked his hair at his question and placed a short, warm kiss on his forehead − he murmured lowly as he felt her begin to rub against him, encouraging him to do the same, his lips letting go of her nipple with a loud plop to look at her.
"− you on top − but touch me down there first −" She whispered embarrassedly, turning onto her back, pulling his arm behind her, looking at him with a gaze hot with desire and affection.
He leaned in, letting his swollen lips brush hers, which responded immediately to his caress, her fingers cupping his neck, deepening the kiss.
"− mmm −" She hummed, squirming beneath him. He ran his hand down her body, in a tentative, unhurried motion slipping his hand under the material of her shorts, wanting to give her time to react, but she sensing this spread her thighs wider, easing his access, his fingers finally running over her swollen, hot, wet womanhood.
"− God, little one − I want to use my mouth here −" He gasped appreciatively, thinking only of the fact that he had been dreaming of this for weeks. He smiled involuntarily when he saw her nod quickly, her sweet, full lips parted in an accelerated breath.
"− okay −" She whispered quietly, letting him slide the material of her shorts and underwear off her − he marvelled at the sight of her naked body, thinking with some kind of emotion that he felt like crying.
"− so beautiful −" He whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her stomach, on her womb, on her hip, on her thigh, knee and calf. He looked at her and noticed that she was watching him intently, her breasts rising and falling in uneven breaths, her hands on either side of her head.
"− come here −" He murmured softly, in a gentle motion pushing her hips closer to him, spreading them in front of him − he heard her gasp loudly as he leaned over her bared flesh. He let his hot breath envelop her skin before his nose ran over her hot, soft womanhood, his lips lazily clinging to her folds, placing a lingering, sticky kiss on them.
He tightened his hands on her thighs when he felt her throw her head back with a sweet, surprised moan, her fingers traveling to his short hair, stroking it in impatient motion, pressing his face close to her body.
"− please −" She mumbled, and he huffed with amusement, trailing his lips up to her puffy clit, sliding then down to her leaking, swollen slit, teasing her barely, not giving her what she needed.
"− no − we're going to do this very, very slowly − with due respect to you −" He hummed contentedly, feeling some kind of pride that he could do it this way, could give it to her and be what she needed.
She whimpered softly, writhing before him, her breathing quickened and shuddered, her body trembling in his hands, thirsting for fulfilment.
"− don't be cruel −" She mumbled resentfully, as if she thought he was teasing and taunting her. He sighed quietly, placing a warm, hot kiss on her sticky skin − a surprised, loud moan escaped her lips as the tip of his tongue suddenly forced its way inside her, deeper and deeper with each stroke, imposing an intense, fast pace on her.
"− o-oh fuck, yes, lick me −" She mewled, clenching her fingers in his hair, bucking her hips against his face, trying to find a more intense source of rubbing. He smirked under his breath as he discovered after a moment between her fleshy muscles the spot he was looking for, her whines increasingly pathetic and helpless, her walls beginning to throb around his tongue.
He heard her whimper his name, her whole body tensed as if she was trying to break away from him, but he didn't stop, letting her come on his face.
He purred contentedly as he felt how much of her moisture flowed out of her tight entrance, determined to make sure he licked every drop and not let anything go to waste despite her cries.
He surprised her when he didn't pull away, but repeated all the steps from the beginning, slowing his pace again, merely teasing her with his lips, her body twitching at his every move, overstimulated and delicate.
"− n-no more − I want you inside me −" She mumbled softly, and he looked up at her, licking his lips with his tongue, feeling her words in his trousers.
Even though he planned to spend the whole night between her thighs, he couldn't refuse such a request.
"− it's okay − there you go −" He hummed, rising to his knees, slipping his sweatpants down just enough to release his swollen, hard erection leaking from his precum. He placed one hand next to her head, the other guiding the fat, pink head of his cock between her widely spread thighs.
"− such a good girl − hm? − my sweet little baby, am I right? −" He cooed and she nodded quickly, looking at him with big eyes hazed with desire − it seemed to him that she didn't recognise him, that she didn't believe he was the same man she had met then.
He didn't believe it himself, but it felt wonderful.
They both sighed loudly when, with one slow thrust, he opened her wide on his swollen length, leaning over her, pressing his forehead to hers, her trembling hand rising to stroke his cheek, her lips pressed to his in a warm, innocent kiss.
He murmured contentedly, forcing her to fit all of him inside her with an impatient thrust of his hips − he heard her quiet cry of discomfort and surprise and swallowed loudly feeling his manhood pulsing intensely inside her, so hungry for her closeness.
She closed his waist between her legs, crossing them over his back, and he lay on top of her, pulling his t-shirt off quickly, resting his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing her, feeling her little, puffy nipples on his naked chest.
She sighed sweetly, looking up at him dreamily, trailing her fingers down his face and neck as he slipped out of her only to sink into her again a moment later with a loud click of her moisture − she was all wet and warm inside after her intense orgasm, her muscles squeezing him wonderfully from all sides.
"− that's it − just like that - it's okay −" He whispered tenderly, letting himself sink into the taste of her sticky, plump lips again, her hands trailing down his sweaty, muscled back as he involuntarily sped up his pace, pressing his nose to her cheek, slamming into her with more and more sure, brutal thrusts of his hips, groaning low along with her.
"− oh, fuck, baby −" He gasped, listening to her moans of pleasure, her insides wonderfully warm and tight, quivering all over in sensation, soaking him wet. He began to root aggressively into her weeping cunt panting hard, all around them only the loud sound of their moist, naked bodies slapping quickly against each other.
"− please − please − please −" She mumbled out looking up at him with her mouth wide open, digging her fingers into the hot skin of his back − he could feel her walls clench around him tighter, sucking him inside. He shuddered hard at her words, focusing now only on rooting again and again into her warm, fleshy interior.
"− I don't know if I'm going to let you sleep tonight − I think I'd rather do this with you instead −" He breathed out into her mouth, pushing his tongue deep into her throat − he felt her body shake as she convulsed, her hands clenched painfully hard on his body as she came a second time with sweet mewl of effort, panting loudly as if she couldn't catch her breath, her muscles began to throb greedily around his cock, sucking him inside.
He tilted his head back and sighed in relief, a few sloppy, rough thrusts prolonging the inevitable − his warm cum spilled deep inside her, a hot wave of pleasure surging through his lungs.
He crushed her with his body, feeling their bodies quivering and twitching all over, both of them panting hard as if they had run a marathon, their hands running blindly over each other's naked skin as if they wanted to calm and soothe each other.
"− I love you −" He muttered, lying with his eyes closed, his nose snuggled into her hot, soft cheek. "− you know that, don't you? −"
"− yes −" She answered him quietly, and he sighed heavily, snuggling into her like a small child.
That much was enough for him.
He didn't expect anything from her.
He just wanted her to know it.
He spent that night as if in a frenzy, holding her close, embracing her from behind tightly with his arms, their legs entwined together in disarray. He fell asleep with his face pressed against her hair, completely overwhelmed by her wonderful scent, the warmth of her naked body, one of her hands placed on his making sure he didn't let go of her soft breasts.
They hadn't said much to each other after they awoke − when he turned her face towards him and he just sank into her swollen lips in a sticky, hot kiss. She purred sleepily at this caress, her fingertips running over his jaw.
She let him take her a second time then, from behind this time − she was so wet from their shared moisture that he slid into her without much difficulty, stretching her wonderfully tight walls with a sigh of delight.
He rooted into her with lazy, slow thrusts of his hips, making sure that each time the fat head of his cock rubbed her sweet spot, one of his hands playing with her puffy, little nipple, the other sunk deep between her thighs, teasing her swollen clit.
"− do you want me to stop? −" He whispered in her ear, and she shook her head, digging her fingers into his arm with which he embraced her at the waist.
"− n-no − it feels good −" She muttered in embarrassment − he kissed her hot cheek with a sticky click of his saliva seeing her lips parted in accelerated breath, her dreamy, warm gaze.
"− so I'm afraid I'm going to fill you a second time, sweet girl −" He hummed, running the tip of his nose over her pretty face. She moaned quietly at his words, feeling him suddenly speed up, slamming into her with more confident, brutal pushes − she tilted her head back, his lips immediately pressed against her neck.
"− d-don't − don't leave marks −" She mumbled out, quickly clenching her hand in his hair − she whimpered softly as she felt his fingertips dig harder into her fleshy folds.
"− I won't, baby − shhh −" He hushed her, running his lust-swollen lips over her soft skin, feeling her weeping walls squeeze him greedily at his words, forcing him to thrust into her more aggressively, his fingers sinking into her plushy thigh, holding her in place, panting along with her.
"− ah, G-God − She babbled, responding helplessly to his movements with rocking, both of them groaning in pleasure and relief as her muscles began to clench against him in a sudden orgasm, his thighs all sticky with her wetness.
"− yes, that's it − oh baby −" He muttered, letting go, with the last of his strength thrusting into her for a moment more before his seed filled her to the brim.
He hid the tip of his nose in her hair with his eyes closed, panting loudly with pleasure, holding firmly her body trembling in fulfilment in the tight embrace of his arms.
"− can I stay inside you? −" He whispered into her ear and she only nodded, falling into slumber again a moment later.
For the first time in many years he didn't have to get up at dawn, he didn't have to focus on work, on Daeron, on anyone or anything more than himself and her.
He couldn't believe it was really happening.
He lay thinking only of the fact that he was deep inside her, that he could feel her and smell her − he placed one of his hands over her heart wanting to feel how it beat, how her chest rose and fell in calm breaths.
The days before his appointment with the psychiatrist he had spent between her thighs.
She walked around his house wearing nothing but his T-shirt and it was enough for him standing behind her to lift its fabric a little to see her lovely, plump buttocks.
"− stop − we need to eat something −" She muttered as he knelt on the kitchen tiles while she was trying to prepare dinner for them, so that he could kiss her hot, soft skin with a murmur of satisfaction. His hand slipped lower, between her thighs, his fingertips collecting her moisture mingled with his semen, a reminder of what he had been doing to her all day.
"− I adore you −" He gasped, sliding his lips lower, placing warm, sticky kisses on her thighs and calves, he heard her quiet sigh.
"− does your friend know that you have a second lover? −" She asked quietly, and he froze, quickly lifting his gaze to her, understanding immediately that she was talking about Alys.
He didn't want to make a mistake and lie, but he also didn't know how to present it so she would know that it was a done deal for him.
"− I stopped seeing her after what happened between us −" He said softly getting up from his knees, looking down at her, putting an unruly lock of her dark hair behind her ear. "− I didn't see the point in it, because all I was thinking about was you −"
He confessed with a kind of pain and weariness, and she lifted her gaze to him, her bright eyes looked at him piercingly, warm and gentle. He leaned in placing a long, drawn-out kiss on her forehead.
She snuggled into his chest as if seeking refuge, and he embraced her kissing the top of her head devotedly, running his large hands down her back in a reassuring, tender gesture.
"− I can't promise you anything −" She said at last, and he swallowed hard, knowing what she meant.
"− I know − I don't expect it −" He whispered, cuddling his face into her fragrant hair, closing his eyes, her closeness and her scent calming him in some strange, incomprehensible way.
"− I will always wait for you −"
_____
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Love and Liabilities (Agatha Harkness x FemReader): Chapter One
Summary: While you attend a pretrial conference for your current case, you’re stunned to learn your opposing council is your former ex…and law school professor, Agatha Harkness
Word Count: 4.7k
Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Smut, Light Choking, Light Degradation Kink, Mommy Kink, Hate Sex
A/N: Hi :) This idea has been bouncing around my brain since the promo pics came out. Lawyer Agatha, the gift we all need for the new year. This is my first real attempt at writing smut, but I hope y’all enjoy. Updates will be around every 2 weeks. If you’d like to be added to a tag list, please let me know. Feel free to let me know what you think! 💜 Also a special shout-out to my sweet girlfriend, Sarah, thank you for always listening to my crazy ideas.
Smoothing out a wrinkle from your pantsuit, you looked over your case materials from outside the courtroom. It had been almost a decade since you graduated law school, and you’d spent the time since working in corporate law as a junior attorney, before leaving the firm and working your way up as a top prosecutor. To say you were married to your job would be an understatement. It wasn’t enough to be good, you simply had to be the best. You’d always pride yourself on your ability to dig deep in a case and pull out missing details, or find a crack in a seemingly perfect alibi. You were ruthless, but you knew you had to be. The defense attorneys you found yourself battling in court were absolute sharks, and if they sensed an ounce of hesitation on your end it would be a total bloodbath.
Dealing with criminal defense cases was as interesting as it sounded, although it wasn’t what you envisioned you’d be doing after law school. You had different dreams back then, more altruistic visions of helping those who needed it. Closing your eyes, you saw a brief flash of the strikingly blue eyes and dark hair that caused you to change your choice of career, before you quickly shook those thoughts aside. It had been almost ten years since you’d allowed yourself to think about her- about any of it, and it wouldn’t benefit you to take a stroll down memory lane before the biggest case of your career.
A law clerk eventually came by to inform you the judge was ready for you. This was it. Gathering your materials, you walked through the details again in your mind. Pre-trial conferences were relatively helpful when trying to reach a plea bargain, review evidence, as well as decide what to present to the jury. There was no doubt in your mind that this case would go to trial. After all, a woman who kidnaps two children and takes them to a small town in New Jersey didn’t leave much to plead innocent from. What was the name of it, Westchester? Westmont? No, no, you mentally crossed those out, until the name finally came to mind…Westview. Westview, New Jersey.
The room was relatively empty, and you recognized the judge, Carol Danvers. She had a reputation for being rather uptight, but was typically fair in her rulings. She’d moved up through various circuit courts throughout her career, and you’d heard rumblings she was being eyed for a potential Supreme Court nomination. Setting your briefcase on the empty chair next to you, you thought of any possible hiccups from the defense. Supposedly a brief psych evaluation had been done after the incident to rule anything out, so they wouldn’t try and plead insanity, right? You couldn’t see Carol ruling in favor of that. There was the small problem of genetics; the woman was the boys’ birth mother. But, you’d looked over the adoption contracts, as had your colleagues, and they were airtight. It had been a closed adoption, and from what you could tell there had been no contact for over a decade. Plus, with solid testimonies from both families and multiple eyewitnesses you weren’t worried of whatever argument the defense would make in her favor.
Speaking of the defense, you quickly realized the defense attorney hadn’t arrived yet, which was a bit unusual. Racking your brain, you tried to remember the name of the attorney Yelena said was leading the case, but no one came to mind. Pepper Potts perhaps? Carol also appeared to notice the lack of the second attorney, as she whispered with one of the law clerks. You could barely make out what they were saying, but she sounded annoyed. But, no matter, you knew this had absolutely no impact on you.
Carol finally sighed in defeat at whatever the law clerk told her, something about hitting a fire hydrant? “Well, as we’re waiting on the defense to resolve their…tardiness, will the prosecution step forward?”
Standing up, you grabbed a copy of your materials, evidence, testimonies, anything the judge would need, before taking a step towards the judge. “Your honor, the state of New York is ready to move forward with our case. You’ll find sufficient evidence to dismiss any plea deal, as well as ensure we can schedule a trial date.”
Handing the papers to the judge, you watched as she flipped through them, an unreadable expression on her face. Minutes passed before she looked up at you. “The prosecution is dismissing the plea deal being proposed by the defense?”
Nodding, you recalled the deal that had been sent over to your office. It was preposterous, and was heavily dependent on the mental state of the defendant, or rather the lack of mental state of the defendant. “Yes, your honor. The state has inculpatory evidence to convict the defendant, as well as a number of witnesses willing to testify.”
A voice you’d only heard in your dreams for the past decade spoke up, and you nearly froze in place. “Inculpatory evidence? That’s a rather bold claim, I’d call it circumstantial at best.”
It couldn’t be. Paralyzed, you forced yourself to ignore it, to ignore her and keep your eyes locked forward. It couldn’t possibly be her, you would have remembered hearing her name as the defense attorney. Clearing your throat, you continued, trying to keep yourself calm. “With all due respect, your honor, the typical procedure for a case involving the abduction of a minor is what we’re basing this precedent on-”
An obnoxiously loud cackle cut you off, and nearly made you whip your head around in annoyance. The slow clacking of heels echoed throughout the room, followed by the faint scent of Burberry that invaded your senses. Brief flashes of lecture halls and late night office hour visits intertwined with the smell of cigars and expensive whiskey. Lengthy, heated arguments over the moral justification of various Supreme Court rulings whilst being undressed and pressed against the door. Diamond jewelry and lavish bouquets being delivered to your modest law school apartment as you sheepishly explained to your roommates you were seeing an older woman. Secret rendezvous in dimly lit piano bars in Manhattan which would end in a king size bed in a penthouse you could never dream of affording.
It all led back to the same thought, the same woman you’d done your best to let go of. The very same woman you currently found yourself standing face to face with. Agatha Harkness. Clever blue eyes met yours, and a slow smirk painted her perfect red lips. She hadn’t changed much over the past decade. Her dark hair, now peppered with some gray, was pinned back with a few loose strands framing her face, and you briefly thought of how well it suited her. The fitted black pantsuit which accentuated her features, and black heels that made her look deceptively tall as she towered over you.
For a moment it was as if no time had passed at all, and you were back in her lecture hall. But as quickly as that oddly nostalgic feeling overcame you like a tidal wave, it swept away, leaving you with the reality of the situation. Clearing your throat, you looked past Agatha, keeping your focus on Judge Danvers. “As I was saying. While looking at prior cases involving the abduction of a minor we were able to set a precedent that-”
Agatha let out another cackle, and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes. However it appeared Carol was at the end of her rope with patience, as she banged her gavel twice. “Does the defense have something they wish to share with the rest of us?”
“Your honor,” Agatha drawled out, her voice sweet like honey, “The prosecution is making bold assumptions on precedents that do not directly follow the evidence of this particular case. To rule anything otherwise would be direct defamation to my client.”
“Defamation?” You all but hissed, momentarily forgetting you were in the middle of a courtroom. The answering smirk Agatha gave you only fuelled your fire. “Your honor, the defense is all but negating the direct evidence of the defendant’s guilt. We would like to proceed to trial while throwing out the plea deal.”
Agatha’s shark tooth grin widened, and you had a sneaking suspicion she was baiting you to get a reaction. Typical, as she always prided herself on being ten steps ahead of her opponent. Taking a deep breath, you regained your calm composure. It would do you no good to allow your emotions to take over. That would merely ensure Agatha to have one more victory over you, one more thing she would take away from you. But things were different this time, you weren’t some feeble, naive law student fawning over her professor. The playing field was finally leveled, and it was about time she realized that.
Unfortunately, you forgot Agatha never played fair. You curiously watched her grab two folders from her briefcase, all but tossing one at you whilst handing Carol the other. “While we’re discussing the plea deal your honor, I’ve included additional information regarding my client’s psychiatric evaluation.”
Practically tearing the folder open, your eyes scanned the lengthy documents before landing on something that nearly made you fall over. Before you could get a word in, Agatha continued on. “Due to our country’s ever failing healthcare and medical practices, my client has been unable to receive a proper psychiatric evaluation. Your honor, I am requesting a continuance to this trial until my client can get the help she needs.”
Carol’s focus remained on the papers, an inscrutable expression coloring her features. “I’m granting a one month continuance for the defendant, Wanda Maximoff, to be given a psychiatric evaluation. As long as Miss Maximoff follows the terms of her probation and doesn’t leave the state of New York, we’ll resume this conference one month from today. Thank you to the prosecution and defense, you’re dismissed.”
Not wanting to see the smug smirk on Agatha’s face, you packed up your materials, including the folder Agatha gave you, and did your best to hurry out of the courtroom. It was foolish to think you’d beat Agatha at the game she taught you to play. That’s what it always was to Agatha, a game. It was like everyone around her was playing checkers while she was constructing the most elaborate game of chess known to man. All while she moved you around as whatever piece she desired; because that’s how she viewed you, as an object she could twist and mold to her liking until you outlived your usefulness.
Ignoring the familiar sound of her heels approaching, you drafted a quick email to one of your colleagues with the news of the trial being halted before going to order your Uber. You didn’t have to look up to know Agatha was standing in front of you, because that was just part of her intricate plan. She surely knew you were furious, because of course she did. Hadn’t she once told you she knew everything? At the time you thought it was a cheeky remark to make you laugh, but looking back you came to terms with the fact that the only person Agatha Harkness could ever care for was herself.
You were growing weary of the rising tension, so you finally broke the silence, keeping your eyes locked on your phone. “Can I help you with something?”
“I’m not sure,” Agatha replied, and although you weren’t looking at her you could practically feel her gaze burning into you. “I never took you for a sore loser, dear.”
There it was, she was trying to get her claws back in you. Keeping your tone even, you checked on the status of your Uber. “I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to. I’m just doing my job.”
Before you could comprehend what was happening, your phone was ripped from your hands. “Hey!” You exclaimed, angrily whipping your head up and your eyes narrowed, meeting the deep blue eyes you used to get lost in. “Give me back my phone.”
“Checking for your ride?” Agatha mocked, arching an eyebrow up at you. “Is that more interesting than talking to me?”
“Watching paint dry would be more interesting than speaking with you,” You retorted, your discomfort quickly growing.
“Now darling, is that any way to speak to me?” Agatha teased, her voice gradually dropping in volume. “It’s been so long.”
Glaring at her, you tried to pry your phone from her hands, but she put it in her back pocket. “And whose fault is that again?” Your voice was laced with venom, you subconsciously wanted to make her feel as badly as you had. “Should we take a stroll down memory lane and recall what caused this?”
Agatha’s gaze hardened at that jab, and you momentarily wondered if you pushed too hard. “I’m surprised you’re leading this case. I thought you wanted to,” she paused and used air quotes, “‘help the voiceless’, not strangle them.”
“How dare you,” You seethed, not caring that your voice was growing in volume. “I’m just doing my job, Agatha. Besides, isn’t strangling the helpless what you do best?”
Agatha tilted her head back, and let out another cackle. “Doing your job? You’re trying to imprison an innocent mother.”
“Your innocent mother kidnapped two minors and took them over state lines,” You fired back, vaguely aware that Agatha was taking small, slow steps towards you.
“She’s still their mother,” Agatha pointed out and you felt your face grow red from rage.
“Regardless of DNA, it was a closed adoption. She waived her parental rights,” You argued, unaware of anything but the infuriating woman standing in front of you. “Surely you’ve been practicing long enough to know how to read a contract.”
“And I thought I taught you to read between the lines of said contracts,” Agatha countered, and you knew she was testing your argument, it’s what she always did. “Things aren’t always black and white, dear.”
No they weren’t, you silently agreed. By this point your back was to the wall of the deserted corridor, Agatha still towering over you. Your faces were practically touching, and you could practically taste her lips. Both of you were panting from the exertion of bickering, and it wouldn’t take much to close the distance. She was so close, closer than she had been to you in so long. Having her back in your orbit, taking over all of your senses, made you forget the reasons you were so angry with her. Instead, it made you remember how many other times you had found yourself in this exact same position.
You could feel your ironclad restraint begin to slip away, and Agatha appeared to notice it as well. She let out a low chuckle as she turned her face to the side, her breath now hot against your ear, and allowing her to whisper, “Looks like it still doesn’t take much to get you riled up, does it?”
Shuddering, you struggled to get your breathing even, thinking of the many reasons why this was a horrible idea. Your history aside, you were on opposing sides of what would most likely be a very public case. It wasn’t just unprofessional to be doing this, it could potentially jeopardize your whole career. But it was hard to think about any of that when you locked eyes with the woman you had spent so much time trying to forget. Her right hand left your waist to push back the loose strands of your hair, tucking them behind your ear.
Each movement was slow, and delicate, and as her fingers slowly trailed down your neck, she gently squeezed, before gradually applying more pressure, and you had to physically restrain yourself from moaning. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs and had to close your eyes from the overwhelming sensation. Agatha’s lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open kisses on your flesh while her fingers began to move lower, cupping your left breast before slowly pinching your nipple. This time you couldn’t stop the quiet moan that left your lips, and Agatha quickly used her free hand to silence you, covering your mouth.
“You always had a problem being quiet,” Agatha murmured, lips still on your skin. “Let’s find somewhere more…secluded to continue this, hm?”
Feeling yourself nod, you opened your eyes and let out a pathetic whine as she let go of you. It didn’t take long to find an empty storage closet, and Agatha practically shoved you inside before slamming the door behind her.
Pressing you against the bare wall, her eyes scanned yours before asking, “Are you sure?”
Being with Agatha like this was the greatest euphoric high, and it always left you wanting more and more. It didn’t have to mean anything, and you certainly didn’t want it to. It was just two people working out their frustrations, right? You nodded again, grabbing her right hand and placing it back around your throat. “Are you going to choke me again or are you too much of a coward?”
She nearly growled at that, and squeezed, a little rougher this time. You pressed your face into her shoulder, trying to silence the noises you always made when she touched you. She had barely started but it was so good, and you didn’t hesitate when she used her free hand to try and remove your blazer. Taking a step back to take off your blouse and bra, you nearly tripped over some boxes, and her hands steadied you.
“Careful,” She lightly teased, eyes still dark from arousal. “I’m not nearly finished with you.”
Her hands skillfully unhooked your bra, carelessly tossing it to the side, before lowering her mouth to your breast, and lewdly sucked. As if she anticipated the noises you’d inevitably make, she roughly pressed two fingers in your open mouth for you to suck. Moaning around them, you eagerly sucked and sucked, thinking of where you wanted her fingers to go next. Agatha’s tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it enough to make it go erect before using her teeth to pull. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, your last functioning brain cells wondering how she could still have this strong of an effect on you.
She let out a low hum, clearly enjoying this as much as you were before moving to your other breast, only this time she bit down, and the rush of pain and pleasure flooded you. Unable to cry out as she fucked her fingers further down your throat before adding a third, causing you to gag around them. Releasing your breast, Agatha panted out, “Look at how pathetic you are, sucking on my fingers like a good little slut. What a good girl.”
Whimpering around her fingers, you clenched at the filth spewing from her lips. You hated this, how easily she could flip the switch and have you dripping and wanting her to fuck you through the floorboards. Agatha cooed, using her free hand to gently stroke your face, and roughly pulled her fingers out of your mouth. She was face level again, and you watched the gears turn in her head as she weighed out what to do with you. That same free hand cupped your jaw, and she was so close, your brain buzzing from the endorphins. It was so good, you hated how good it was.
Her normally perfectly red lips were stained and parted slightly as she looked at you with an indecipherable stare, and you were still breathless from her earlier ministrations. Before you could fully comprehend what you were doing, you grabbed her hair and smashed your lips together. You swore you heard her groan, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and you had no time to contemplate it as you felt her tongue teasing the entrance of your mouth. It has been so long, so very long, but you fell back into the familiar dance you could never forget.
Everything Agatha did she dominated, for she had such a strong presence that was impossible to ignore. Just kissing her was enough to get you off, as her tongue expertly swirled around yours, sending you further and further from the edge of reality. You were so far gone you barely noticed her hands moving lower, and lower, until they were pawing at your ass. Groping and grabbing, she was insatiable as she conquered your mouth. You broke apart for merely a second and without speaking, you helped get rid of your pants, slightly stunned you were still this in sync after all this time.
But again, you had no time to ponder that thought as Agatha quickly slammed you against the wall, and you couldn’t help but moan at the pain. The same fingers you eagerly sucked on were now teasing your entrance, rubbing gentle, slow circles. Agatha’s breath was hot in your ear, and you whined, trying to thrust your hips up for more friction. You needed more, you needed her more than ever before. Going without for so long was fine, you’d nearly forgotten what it felt like, what she felt like; but the second you remembered you couldn’t bear a second without it.
“Someone’s awfully worked up,” Agatha taunted, her voice softly whispering in your ear. “Did you want something?”
“Agatha…” You breathed out, your voice nearly cracking. “Please…”
Her fingers teased your clit, and the sensation made you cry out, causing Agatha to silence you with yet another kiss. “Behave,” she murmured against your lips, “Do you want me inside you? Do you want me to fill that sweet little cunt?”
Mewling, you again tried to tilt your hips up, desperate to feel her inside you, but her other hand kept you in place. “Agatha, please, I…I need it, please fuck me.”
Agatha arched an eyebrow, “I know your brain just melts when that pussy gets wet, but we both know that’s not what you want to call me, is it?” Blushing, you tried to avert your eyes but it was impossible. She nipped at your lips before continuing. “Be a good girl and beg for it.”
“Mommy,” The words slipped past your lips and you felt another rush of heat between your legs while Agatha moaned.
“Good girl,” Agatha praised you, and before you could prepare yourself she roughly entered you with two fingers, filling you completely.
Her fingers were so long and so good, hitting the spots you had trouble reaching. You couldn’t help but clench around them, and she groaned in your ear. Wasting no time, she set a fast and hard rhythm, skillfully fucking you better than anyone else since her had been able to.
“I almost forgot how good your cunt feels around my fingers,” Agatha hissed, nibbling on your ear, “Suck me in, slut.”
Your hips met her fingers, and you desperately chased your orgasm. “Harder, please mommy fuck me harder.”
Putting all of her weight on you, Agatha swiftly added a third finger and you nearly squealed at how full you felt. Her fingers were so deep, and you were so close, so very close to the edge.
“Such a good whore for mommy,” Agatha cooed, and her voice was strained, you could tell she was close too. “Do you want to come on my fingers?”
“Mommy please,” You cried out, unable to focus on anything but wanting to feel her fingers make you come harder than you could ever remember.
Agatha’s hips rested against your knee, and she began riding your leg, chasing her own high. “Come for mommy, baby. Soak my fingers.”
Twisting her fingers and hitting your G-spot again, and again causing you to quickly unravel. Feeling your orgasm coming, you clenched around her fingers, needing her to stay inside you. Your knees buckled and you swore you saw stars, unable to speak as you silently cried out. Agatha came right as you did, grunting in your ear and roughly thrusting against your leg as she came undone.
“Fuck,” She panted, keeping her fingers inside you as you continued to twitched around them. “Good girl, such a good girl for mommy.”
Breathing heavily, you gradually felt yourself come back to Earth. You were drenched with sweat, and you were sure you looked positively debauched. Agatha was staring at you with yet another inscrutable expression on her face, and you felt yourself relaxing around her fingers as she slowly pulled out. You grabbed her hand, and lewdly cleaned her fingers off, watching her eyes darken once more as you made a point to swirl your tongue around them until they were clean.
As your brain fog cleared, you were all too aware of the uncomfortable silence growing around you. With every high that came with being with Agatha, it was almost always followed by an indescribable low. There were so many things you wanted to ask her, so many things you needed to know. Brief flashes of arguments and slamming doors. Dozens of unanswered calls, and late nights spent wondering what you had done wrong to deserve her random outbursts of anger. But with every argument, every heated fight, it would always end the same way; with Agatha pressing you against some surface and having her way with you.
There had been so much more going on at that point than you were aware of, and as the pieces slowly came together, she was too far gone for you to be able to help. You’d begged and pleaded with her, but it never mattered. What was it your therapist had said to you? You couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to help themselves. Letting go of her nearly killed you, and now you made the mistake of opening that door again, knowing how much more complicated it would be. You weren’t just her law student anymore, you were on opposing sides of a trial.
It appeared Agatha was having the same train of thought as you, for she wordlessly helped you find your clothes. In spite of her just being inside you, you made a point of turning around as you got dressed, as the air in the room seemed to drop and any of the warmth that had been there prior had disappeared. There was so much you wanted to say, yet simultaneously wanted to get as far away from her as you could.
Agatha finally broke the silence as she fixed her hair, and she was back to her usual condescending self. “You know you’re wrong pursuing this case, right? It’s not too late to back out.”
Rolling your eyes, you finally grabbed your phone from her back pocket and saw your Uber driver understandably canceled your ride. That would certainly tank your rating. You quickly ordered another before replying with, “You know this meant absolutely nothing to me, right?”
Pushing past her to exit the room, she let out another cackle, the sound like grating nails on a chalkboard in your ears. You knew she wouldn’t follow you, and you were thankful for that. This was an indiscretion, a momentary lapse of judgment. You’ve been on edge with all the extra hours you’ve been working; you weren’t thinking clearly. The courthouse was still relatively empty, and you left the building, trying to get the thought of Agatha out of your mind. Why did she have to be so infuriating?
Your Uber eventually rolled up and as you got in you went to check your work email. It never failed to amaze you how quickly your inbox would fill up when you didn’t check it for more than five minutes. Scrolling through, you vaguely listened to the music your driver had in in the background, until a familiar song started playing. Frank Sinatra, a favorite artist of a certain attorney. The Way You Look Tonight had always been one of her favorites, and you could remember the last time you listened to it together.
Your mind absentmindedly drifted, the memories you’d tried to lock away slowly creeping back up to the surface. It seemed no matter how hard you tried to forget, she didn’t want you to. Settling into your seat, listening to Frank Sinatra, you thought back to the first time you met Agatha, or rather, how you met Professor Harkness.
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Tip the Scales Chapter 1
Prosecutor Sun, Prosecutor Moon, Judge Eclipse x Defense Lawyer (Devil's Advocate) Reader
(You are a charismatic defense lawyer in a constant competition with two ruthless prosecutors that do not understand your ideals about criminals deserving a second chance. You are also housemates with a certain bitter and retired judge, who has a habit of operating at night as a cloaked figure known as the Judge of the Damned. Things get complicated when your old friend Monty gets accused of a murder he claims to not have committed willingly. Will you balance the scales once more?)
Warnings: suggestive themes, possessive behaviour, mentions of violence
There was a particular universal truth that court employees would never dare to admit about court proceedings: not a single one of them actually wanted to be there. Those that did enjoy being present during a session were either lying to themselves or were being paid obscene amounts of cash to pretend to care. In other extreme cases, it was all a part of unhinged ambition sprinkled with a dash of insanity.
Normally the whole process was a dreary affair, varying from sordid and depressing, all the way to showing what an administrative inferno the whole institution had become over time. True to the Dickensian fashion of describing things, one could say that the gloomy and omnipresent fog that had consumed the city with the arrival of Fall was equally present in the courtroom itself, both metaphorically and literally, entering every pore and chilling everyone to the bone.
However, in our specific situation things were getting quite heated. The cold September fog had been rudely pushed aside by the steam of intense and fiery debate you were having with prosecuting attorney Sun.
A bitter rivalry existed between you and the celestial-themed animatronic, but over the past year it seemed to have bloomed into obsessive fascination on Sun's part. We could classifiy it as another universal truth that one was bound to eventually become infatuated and captivated by their “nemesis“.
Placing you two in the same room was a very bad idea. Or a very good idea, it honestly depended on who you asked. For instance, the general public that had come to listen to your long nonsensical argument had arrived there for the sole purpose of finding out whether you two would passionately kiss somewhere in the middle of the whole discussion.
The suspense was maddening, the tension was more than palpable. One of the clerks was fanning himself with a folder, wondering whether or not he had taken his heart medication earlier.
“Could somebody open a window, please?“
There had always been an unusually thin line between love and hatred, enemies and lovers, but somehow it seemed oddly fitting for you and Sun to combine both at the same time with no problem.
After a well crafted comeback, believing himself to be the victor, Sun winked at you, triumphant and his grin wide and sinister.
“Was that as good for you as it was for me?“
“My dear sir, I cannot say, I hardly even felt anything.“
“I was under the impression that we have long abandoned this little “playing hard to get“ scenario.“
“Goodness, that sounds serious, delusions could be a sign of a system malfunction, you should get that checked, Sun.“
“Don't be so high and mighty. You will lose today, both the case and the little bet we made.“
“Oh, my, so ominous. I sure am devastated on the inside, inconsolable, I shall probably never recover.“
You were driving him insane. Healthy competition was usually highly encouraged, but this was beyond ridiculous. No matter how eloquent and skillful he was in the art of rhetoric, you refused to yield. You were still a relatively young jurist, having passed the bar examination barely two years prior, but your legal reasoning was unusually innovative and your application of creative solutions to impossible problems was astounding. There wasn't a single thing that Sun could throw at you without you catching it and throwing it ten times harder right back at him.
The judge, an elderly man that was diligently counting down the days till it was socially acceptable to retire from what was regularly a life tenure, was listening to the two of you bicker as if it were the latest installment of his favourite picture show series. He wondered if he should simply let you silly lovebirds borrow his chambers for a minute or two. Or thirty, wherever the feeling takes you. He was very supportive.
He was also the only judge in the building willing to tolerate the nonsense that you and the Celestial Prosecutors kept pulling off in the courtroom. It was free entertainment and he needed some amusement in his old age. The rest of the judicial assembly would have to pull straws each time a new case had to be assigned.
He remembered how different things had been a few years prior.
It was an open secret that the judicial assembly missed the old days when the esteemed Judge Eclipse had still been in office, before his abrupt retirement under unusual circumstances. Eclipse would always volunteer to do all the work, snatching case files from everybody's hands and closing himself in his chambers, leaving the possibility for the rest of the assembly to simply enjoy their coffee and gossip in the conference room.
Intense and immensely dedicated to his work, unyielding, unforgiving and merciless, Eclipse had been akin to a dark deity of the afterlife, deciding the fate of souls that had succumbed to corruption. His golden eyes had held nothing but pure contempt for evildoers, his mechanical heart perpetually hungry for the suffering of the wicked. Court sessions under his administrations had been a thing of horror for some and an example of a job well-done for others. Deranged and disproportionate punishments had made Eclipse quite unpopular in the criminal milieu, and there had been quite a few attempts on his life that would usually end up with the assassins themselves having their spines twisted into a pretty pretzel.
Self-defense, clear-cut, no questions asked, nobody left to mourn a few dismembered rulebreakers.
The euphoria had been too intoxicating, the flesh of Evil too delicious, the screams of the damned a symphony unmatched.
One thing had lead to another, interfering into interrogations, conflict of interest, violating every possible rule of criminal procedure, prisoners being found dead in their cells, acquitted individuals dying under suspicious circumstances mere days after their release.
The courthouse and law enforcement would always turn a blind eye. Whispers in the corridors, silent gasps in the archive rooms, everybody knew of Eclipse's tendencies, his desire to play god. Nobody had dared to make a fuss about the whole situation, not even when a few fellow judges that had been accused of bribery had one day "mysteriously" disappeared. It was all a silent approval. Crime statistics had been fixing themselves, who would dare interfere?
Deciding to return to topics less grim and vile, the current judge smiled fondly at the prosecutors and the sly defense lawyer before him. Such a sweet change, whimsy and passion reigning supreme, banishing the sepulchral dread of olden times.
Contrary to custom, Sun was working with his brother Moon by his side. It was definitely unusual for two prosecutors to work together on same cases and appear in court as a team, but nobody had ever complained about it and regulations had no explicit rule against it. It was Moon's duty to make a thorough research and keep Sun informed of any new facts or legal acts in order for Sun to prepare a proper presentation to enthrall everyone in the courtroom or ask for appropriate actions.
They used all of their individual strengths and skills to achieve the best results. Reminiscent of their older brother's inclinations, their methods and ruthless determination in the pursuit of their version of justice at all costs had become notorious, eventually making the general public refer to them as the Grand Inquisitors.
All of that aside, the two of them still had to make sure that each investigation went perfectly by the books and that there were no irregularities made by law enforcement in the initial stages of each investigation. Being a prosecutor was akin to being a sea captain that constantly kept hoping that his crew was sober. One single mistake meant that the other party would pounce on it like a feral animal.
And pounce you did.
For instance, you were easily capable of rendering a whole confession useless by claiming it was inadmissible evidence obtained through coercion. It was no trouble for you to stage a whole scene.
You had pulled off such a stunt a few times in the past and the results would always follow a hilarious pattern: the confused police officers would simply blink and question their general reality on whether they had truly applied excessive force, the public audience would try not to snack too loudly on the popcorn they had brought, the defendant would do his best to keep crying and keeping his story straight about how absolutely devastated and tortured he was, the judge would hope that no reporters would come crawling in the courtroom and asking about human rights violations. Again.
The celestial twins were unused to such audacity and blows to their pride. Sun and Moon had always been a powerful force that had never known the meaning of failure, the playing field had been theirs to dominate and it was pure madness to even think that anyone could place an end to that. And then you showed up and suddenly the courtroom was a circus, you were the ringmaster and you turned the two of them into the lead jesters of the whole show.
They were furious with you for making a mockery of their act. How dare you?
Moon did his best to remain subtle with his temper, even if his pencils did audibly snap in half from time to time. He had to keep an appearance a patient man, someone courteous and polite. It was of great importance to keep that thick layer of ice above the boiling madness that stirred deep within.
Oh, how you tested his patience still. It all kept accumulating, over and over, cracking the ice bit by bit.
He could write a masterpiece of scholarly analysis and a seemingly perfect reconstruction of events, and you would destroy all of that effort simply by telling him he wrote a date wrong, messing up the entire chronology and all further conclusions, rendering the whole thing useless. You always tripped him with the little things, formalities, so many tidbits that made the whole construction fall apart.
The devil was in the details, after all.
Speaking of which, since the majority of your clients were desperate people that had strayed from the morals of society into a life of crime for mere survival, you had earned yourself the title of Devil's Advocate among your colleagues. The world of your clients, however, was quite grateful for your services and assistance, all of them calling you their Fairy Godparent.
You got them out of trouble, you found them alternatives and new respectful jobs, you gave and gave, granting wishes and making them all happily dance to your music. If anyone had issues or needed help, they knew who to come to. You were waiting with good life advice, cupcakes, a hot cup of coffee and assurance that you would solve all of their problems. In many cases, you were the last angel before the gates of Hell for them, grasping their hand and pulling them back to safety.
After all, placing their fate in your hands was a far better alternative than sinking deeper into darkness and one day being inevitably visited in the middle of the night by the Judge of the Damned, having their life taken as the midnight bells rang.
Because of this looming threat, you did your best to save each soul you came across.
In this particular case, it was a young man that had gotten himself in some serious trouble after associating with a dangerous faction of drug dealers. Such business always came with its risks and there was no true loyalty nor help if someone got caught. Moreover, it was common practice to silence the person from revealing the others by simply ordering their assassination in prison. The young man had gotten way in over his head, too ambitious and too confident in his own abilities, intoxicated with the romantic ideas of what he had seen in movies.
His older brothers had approached you for help after his arrest and you had accepted, of course. You would get the boy out of trouble, free of charge, under the condition that he dedicated himself to getting his life back on track and you would be making sure things stayed that way.
Sun was still waiting for you to speak, and the rest of the room was wondering whether or not you were truly speechless this time or if you were simply preparing something spectacular. Of course, it was the latter. You had pulled a lot of strings and cashed in a few favours, but it was all for a good cause. You heard Sun's impatient voice:
“Ready to admit defeat? There is no conceivable way for you to counter any of this evidence, it is over.“
“Only for those that lack the imagination to do so. I call in question the credibility and the competence of your toxicology expert. You cannot claim that my client was in possession or consuming a certain substance, if its chemical components do no even match what you claim it to be.“
“Pure cocaine was found on his person. He has been known to associate himself with dangerous smugglers of forbidden narcotics.“
“A second analysis, that I took the liberty of ordering from another expert, proved that it was mere flour.“
“Excuse me?“
“He is a baker's apprentice. Poor boy, he is just keeping all of that secret out of shame, which is why we did not mention this earlier, by the way. Alas, I cannot keep this silence anymore, for I must act in his best interest. You see, ever since he was a small lad, it was his dream to make fine Danish pastries, but everyone in his general vicinity was obsessed with the whole “dashing gangster“ persona that is so popular right now, so no wonder that this sad young man, just look at his eyes, this poor innocent child tried to emulate all of that simply to get some respect from his cruel peers. So, he walked around with flour and pretended that it was cocaine. It is all because of societal pressure.“
Had Sun been gifted with a detachable jaw, it would have fallen on the floor by now. It was madness. Your claim was pure madness. He wasn't certain, but he did feel as if all of his systems were about to crash down in a sad attempt at self-preservation. Moon's crimson eyes had turned black and he seemed as if he were silently rebooting himself. It was best for everyone to have him unconscious for a bit, otherwise he would have probably gotten violent. The stenographer stopped typing and blinked at you in a very “what the actual hell“ manner and the old judge took his glasses off emphatically as people normally do in such situations for no specific reason other than dramatic effect.
“God, I haven't felt this much excitement since my last divorce.“
The defendant was very much surprised to hear this as well. He gestured for you to come closer and whispered to you:
“I am a baker's apprentice?“
“You are now. Be the role, become the role, make the rolls. Also, you start next Monday at five in the morning, I got everything already arranged with the baker on main street. This whole process should by over by then.“
“What? The only dough I know how to roll is the monetary one.“
“You learn while you live.“
The poor man looked at you with the expression of someone that would really rather just go to prison than go through such blood pressure oscillations.
His brothers, three friendly chaps in dashing suits, homburg hats and leather gloves, were all smiling and holding a thumbs up in encouragement. He turned around to look at them with a genuinely desperate expression. Listening to this nonsense was punishment enough, regardless if he did the crime or not. They had assured him that you were the best, but nobody ever said that your methods were the sanest.
You cleared your throat and spoke up again:
“In light of this and to support these claims, I enclose all the necessary documents and I am prepared to call the relevant new witnesses if you agree, Your Honour.“
“I can adjourn, I personally got no problem with continuing this on a later day of the week. I have to tell you, you kids are keeping me young, I always thought that my later years in life would be boring. Boy, I sure was wrong.“
A partially drunk man from the spectator area began to clap.
“Bravo!“
The bailiff looked over at him.
“What are you clapping for?“
“I thought this was the theatre.“
“It's a courtroom, is what it is.“
“What's the difference?“
Just as you were about to sit down, Moon was suddenly by your side, having miraculously finished his little reboot session and feeling more energized than ever. It was rather concerning, since he was capable of pulling such a stunt within mere seconds, changing location so fast before you could even register it. You had a theory that he was probably capable of some type of flight or teleportation.
You made a little squeak of surprise as you felt his hands on your shoulders, pulling you close to his face plate, crimson eyes trying to cut your soul to shreds. Nevertheless, you refused to lose your decorum and you kept up an air of aristocratic disinterest.
“May I help you, sir?“
“Don't give me that. You know exactly what you are doing. I am not letting you humiliate us like this again.“
“And you are going to make things better for yourself by intimidating me in public like this? I really want to know what the plan is, I'm curious now.“
“Curiosity will kill you one day, little devil fairy.“
“I am certain that satisfaction will bring me back. What exactly do you want from me?“
He squeezed your shoulders and began to lightly massage them. It was oddly pleasurable, since you were tense and tired. Moon's voice was low, raspy, almost a whisper, akin to that of a nocturnal demon that haunted the shadows and ruled over nightmares.
“What goes around comes around and one day I will humiliate you, as well. I will tear those fairy wings apart.“
“Do you think I am afraid of you?“
“You should be. But, yes, I do have an additional request. Meet us in the conference room as soon as we are done here. We wish to talk.“
For a moment it seemed as if the two of you had forgotten that you were in an oddly compromising embrace in front of the entire courtroom. The same man from the spectator area whispered to the bailiff:
“Is this when the smooching starts? I could have sworn I read it somewhere in the play synopsis.“
“This is not the theatre!“
“Listen, Shakespeare once said that the whole world is a stage. He also said that we should kill all the lawyers, though, but I vote that we keep these three here, I need to know what happens next.“
A normal person would refuse to accept Moon's request after his little outburst, but you wished to talk to him and Sun, as well. Perhaps the old saying of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer“ had some wisdom to it, but you also genuinely wished to somewhat make peace with them. Maybe even explain your perspective and your ideas of justice to them. If things got really wild, possibly even form some fragile bond of friendship.
“Alright, I will be there, I just need some time to get my things first and I will also fetch a cup of coffee.“
You pushed him away and he allowed you to do so. However, his gaze was still on you even as everyone had risen and prepared to leave for the day. He watched you as you cheerfully talked with your client and his family, so warm, so caring. They gave you presents to show their appreciation, bags full of chocolates, teddy bears and a ridiculously large plush rabbit. Such whimsical things, childish and ridiculous, and yet your eyes almost had sparkles from how happy you were.
You were considered a beauty by many, but you were not coquettish, ignoring any amorous comments with your usual aristocratic disdain. Your hair was long and soft, well taken care of, but there were always a few little disobedient tufts that almost appeared like tiny and cute devil horns. It was impossible to straighten them out and you simply let them be.
You had a penchant for black pinstripe suits. However, the professional sterness was mitigated by the presence of a star-shaped pink diamond brooch pinned to the striped bow on your chest area. Moon found it conveniently suitable for your “fairy godparent“ aesthetic. The diamond would catch even the faintest amounts of light, reflecting it on surrounding walls to signify that you were approaching. You were wondrous, gentle hues of pink always heralding your arrival.
Sun spoke to him as the two of them made their way to the conference room, distracting him from his reveries:
“They are so cold to us and yet so warm to them. Did you see that smile?“
“Our fairy sees value in miscreants and mongrels. It is only a matter of time before those strays bite the hand that feeds them and then the little fool will come crying to us.“
“It would be cruel of us to refuse them a warm embrace, brother.“
Moon pondered the thought, the potential image of you in a disheveled state, disappointed and heartbroken. There was something wonderfully poetic about the idea of your rose garden withering away. It was a fair trade for all the times you kept trying to ruin their own view of the world. He and Sun were the righteous hands of justice and not even you could protect your little army of demons forever, shielding them with your dark angel wings till one day their final feather crumbles to dust. A misguided fallen little seraph had to have limits.
Sun and Moon waited for good while for you to arrive. Getting coffee was serious business, after all.
The windows in the conference room were covered with Venetian blinds, creating a game of light and shadow, giving it an air of mystery and melancholy. However, the moment you entered, your diamond brooch cast little sparkles of warm pink all over the walls.
You were carrying the bags with gifts and also balancing your coffee cup. It was honestly a miracle you did not spill everything yet. You set it all on the large table and for a moment you almost seemed to have forgotten the two animatronics even existed as you were fiddling with the little treats you had received.
“These chocolates are my favourite. It is a shame you two can't eat, you are missing pure heaven. Now, what exactly did you two want to talk about?“
Sun was very straightforward and went right down to business.
“You cheated, lied and manipulated facts today.“
“Me? I can only aspire to be that productive in one single afternoon.“
“Furthermore, you shamelessly tried to avoid the consequences of losing our little bet.“
“Tell me something: are you more upset about the case or the bet? It seems to me as if the latter is tormenting you more than the former.“
“I am not answering that.“
“If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask like a sensible man, we don't need these convoluted schemes for something that simple.“
“Would you, then?“
“No.“
“See, this is why we need the schemes.“
“Such a tragedy your problems are, Sun.“
You opened another box of chocolates and you were wondering whether to try the one with dark ganache filling or the one with hazelnut cream. You were rudely interrupted when Moon lifted your chin up to look at him.
“You are no longer going to prance around acting as if the justice system is your own personal circus. If we expose what you did today, you will be kicked out of the Lawyers' Association and you will lose your license to practice.“
“That sounds so depressing when you put it that way.“
“I personally can appreciate what you were trying to do for all those people in the past year or so, but enough is enough. We could have offered you a plea bargain, had you only asked us. We are more than happy to settle if those puppies of yours mean that much to you, but they will need to serve time, whether you like it or not.“
“When they get in the system, it's over, it will haunt them and follow them for the rest of their lives, from getting employment all the way to daily life and relationships.“
“None of that is your concern, Y/N. You cannot save everyone.“
“With all due respect, Moon, you have no right to tell me what to do. I do not hate you, but I will not tolerate you being in my way either. Do not be fooled by my kind nature, you have no idea who you are playing with. Dreams can become Nightmares fairly quickly.“
“I am saying all of this because I do not want you to share the same unfortunate fate that keeps repeating itself in your family. Always best friends with the wrong lot. You need to stop fraternizing with criminals, for your own good.“
Moon expected a specific reaction from you with that statement, foolishly assuming that he would hit the right spot, that he would cause fear, pain, uncertainty and a need to run somewhere for some emotional safety. Even Sun knew that he had gone too far with that topic.
You were not having it. Yes, you were a regal and delicate flower. However, that flower was also poisonous and with plenty of thorns. You huffed at him.
“Oh, so we are playing that card now? While we are on the subject of family tradition and dubious practices, I am well aware of the person that gets rid of the truly bad people. Did he ever come for any of my current and recent clients? No. Therefore I don't see why you are so determined to lecture me about helping those that only do crime out of necessity, not evil. If anything, this is just petty revenge because you hate losing and because you are a manipulative jerk with no empathy for the misfortunate, Moon. If you wish to punish someone, start with yourself.“
That certainly did hit a nerve.
Moon went over to the window, pulling the blinds shut and letting the room bathe in darkness, the pink light disappearing. You blinked to adjust your eyes.
“Is this really necessary?
Moon's voice was unusually low, almost a whisper:
"Is darkness not a familiar thing to you, little devil fairy? You certainly seem to linger in the shadows, refusing to see the light, you are blind and unable to grasp reality as it is."
You sighed and shrugged.
"That is still better than believing in blind justice. Also, at least I got the comfort of knowing that Sun over here cannot see anything right now, either.“
The daylight animatronic made a huff at your words.
“I still know the basic layout of the room, thank you very much.“
Sun then leaned over to you and whispered:
“Now, why did you have to tell him all that? He is very touchy on that subject.“
“Well, he started it.“
“And you had to continue it?“
“Yes. I too am allowed to be petty.“
Moon's crimson optics were the only light left and they were getting closer, wicked and menacing. Their glow suddenly disappeared and all that was heard was Moon's malicious cackling. Even with Sun present, you knew you were pretty much screwed and that it was best if you made your merry way in the opposite direction.
An interesting chain of events followed that led to even more interesting consequences. You reached for the nearby bag that had the giant bunny plushie in it, throwing it in the general direction of Moon's laughter, hoping that it would hit him and buy you enough time to run out of the room. However, you miscalculated while waving your hand, accidentally hitting Sun in the face instead. In your defense, you could barely see a damn thing in the dark.
As this happened, Sun stepped backwards out of sheer instinct, bumping right into Moon as he was trying to elegantly sneak up. This caused Moon to lose balance and fall on the floor. As he tried to catch onto the table to pull himself back up, his hand landed directly on the coffee cup and the whole contents spilled over the edge right onto him, ruining his coat, vest and shirt.
Needless to say how much noise you three idiots had made in the process.
You reached for another bag, and you began to swing it around without a care in the world.
“Stay back, both of you, I am armed with plushies and I am not afraid to use them.“
Sun's face kept being caught in the collateral damage, of course. With a swift motion, he managed to catch you and pick you up, placing you on the table and pinning your wrists to it to stop you from further attacking him with such a deadly weapon. Meanwhile, Moon was removing his coffee-stained coat and vest, lamenting how the whole fabric was ruined now.
“This is not how I envisioned this meeting to transpire.“
The whole scene was then interrupted when a clerk opened the door, seeing the two celestial animatronics looming over you while you were lying on the table, Sun holding your wrists and Moon having half his clothes off.
The man blinked a few times, before clapping in joy.
“Oh, my god, finally. I have been placing my bets on the three of you for months. I have to tell the others that they owe me money. They said you three would get together by December, but I was a visionary and I said somewhere in Fall. Ah, passion! Such a fantastic thing. Have fun, you crazy lovebirds, you! I'll tell the group of people that is standing right outside not to disturb you for the next few hours, okay? Okay, take care.“
He closed the door and left, leaving the room in darkness again. A few moments passed and you burst out laughing, unable to control yourself. The situation was absurd and you were starting to love every minute of it.
“I must say, this madness is better than some boring date. We should do it again sometime.“
AO3 Link
#tip the scales au#tip the scales aesthetic#tip the scales#sundrop x reader#moondrop x reader#eclipse x reader#sun fnaf#moon fnaf#sundrop#moondrop#eclipse#fnaf eclipse#sun x reader#moon x reader#fnaf sun x reader#fnaf moon x reader#five nights at freddy's#the daycare attendant#daycare attendant x reader#daycare attendant#fnaf dca#amary's chronicles#jester's privilege chronicles#prosecutor sun#prosecutor moon#judge eclipse#devil's advocate y/n
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Hi first of all, I wanted to tell you how much I love your fanfictions I'm always happy to see something new (ascended astarion and astarion spawn stories are my favourites but the others are captivating too). I was wondering if you could write a story where the original Tav dies and is reborn a few hundred years later and Astarion finds her again. Maybe in a more modern setting where the prudery thing isn't quite so… strong
I apologise for my bad English it's not my native language I hope you can understand it anyway
“Mistrial:” a Modern Faerûn AU
Astarion x Tav |E| 2.5K modern au
Ao3 link
Summary: Hundreds of years without her, Astarion still sits on the bench, Justice Ancunìn hear case after case. Until one day, that young prosecutor gets under his skin, until she confronts him after their trial, until ancient memories stir and things awaken.
A/N: Thank you to @myfavouritelunatic and @brabblesblog for their enabling and encouragement.
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“Justice Ancunìn, I have to object,” the little firecracker of a prosecutor ground her high heel into the tile of the courtroom.
Astarion shook his head, tired of her tone already on day one. “You don’t have to, counselor,” he rubbed two fingers against his silver-haired temple, “but given that this is already your twenty-second one today, I can’t say I’m surprised.” She looked at him with sharp eyes and folded arms. The little shit. He did not care for her already.
If this had been in the good old days when Faerûn was at its prime and most debauched, he could have her flogged for her tone and sent to cool in the stocks. And that would have been before he had been turned into vampiric spawn, before he had become hero of Baldur’s Gate with the love of his life at his side. Helping him learn how to hide his immortality and vampirism from the public, learning how to still serve as Magistrate despite his… condition.
That was until time moved on, and his immortality won over the lingering bonds of love. He missed Tav, her brilliance and ferocity, her pointed ears and sweet blood, her passion in life and in the bed.
Like the blink of an eye, he moved on. City to city, career to career as hundreds of years continued their slow grind of time. Until now, now, he stared down from his bench in BGC, new finagled magic in this modern age like cars and electricity and internet. But law was law, and a judge was a judge
It was as if he never left, aside from the new spitfire attorney, just arrived from New Waterdeep, with a ferocity he would have once admired.
He just now found it tiresome. Irritating. He realized after a moment, she had the decency to wait on his final word on her request for objection. He shifted in his seat, narrowing his eyes at her. “Overruled, Counselor Ylfe.” He banged his gavel twice. “In fact, court adjourned until tomorrow,” he stood grumbling to himself. “At least I’ll be spared a twenty-third objection in so many hours…”
His pointed ears picked up on a high pitched scoff. “We shall see,” that lawyer snipped to herself. But that tone, that defiance and jabbing quality… something piqued his interest.
Stirred his ancient memory.
He finally groaned as he rested in his chambers, only moments after shutting the doors and sliding off those scratchy robes. Gods, he missed silks and wigs and velvets. Not this cheap crap everyone wore. He went to his cabinet, taking out a discrete green bottle and pouring himself a mug of its swirling ruby contents. He popped it in his microwave, one improvement on the campfire he would not begrudge using.
Not when it made his stash of blood warm for once.
But even as it hummed, his mind kept rolling over his day. Especially that stubborn, annoying, irritating prosecutor with her defiant eyes and jutting out chin and crossed arms and swaying, perfect hips, and……
“Justice Ancunìn, I figured you would finally have a moment for us to address how to best proceed civilly in your own chambers,” his head shot up, his gaze narrowed as he watched her stride on into his offices.
Her.
“What in the hells are you thinking, Counselor Ylfe?” he spat, fighting hard from baring his fangs at her. A habit eroded from nearly a millennia of practice almost overturned just at the sight of her. “You know any discourse outside of the courtroom can result in a mistrial?”
“This isn’t about the trial, this is about your abject disdain for me, personally, it would seem.” She did it again, crossing her arms and swaying her hips in that tight little black pantsuit of her hers.
Astarion let his eye wander. There was something about her… not many females cut so fine a figure in trousers, or slacks or whatever the fuck they were now.
Not since… her. The other her in his life. His true love. That was the last time he even gave a woman a second glance.
Her hair hung over her shoulder, but now, up close, he could see two pointed ears peeking through her crown of long and flowing hair. Elf. High elf.
He locked eyes with her, that piercing shade… his mind raced and wandered… flying through ancient history for some, the warmest of memories for him. Emerald Grove, Shadow Cursed Lands, the real Baldur’s Gate…
“Didn’t you hear me, Your Honor?” she snapped at him.
Astarion shook his mess of silver locks, smiling in a way that no longer hid his fangs. “I’m afraid I was… lost in the sea of my long and winding memories… darling….”
That made her freeze solid. Her smooth face drew into an inscrutable expression, her cherry red lips parted… “What did you call me…?”
Only then did he realize the slip of his own tongue, how that pet name he vowed never to use flowed right off of it. “D-darling.” He repeated, as shocked as she was at the impropriety. “I’m sorry, Ms. Ylfe.”
“Don’t be,” she instantly replied with a shake of her head. Then she smiled, even as her brows furrowed. She looked at him, at his pale face and silver hair and… dark brown eyes…. “Have you always worn contacts, Mr. Ancunìn?”
“How…” but before he could interrogate that true suspicion, his microwave dinged.
“You better get your drink, Your Honor…” That lilt in her voice was new, he noted.
“I’ll wait,” he shrugged. “I can always reheat it later. First I’ll have to apologize for my… behavior today.”
“I should hope so,” she grinned, walking around and sitting on the edge of his desk. “Treating a lady with such disdain… only to about face and call her darling the next moment… seems something only a true, black-hearted rogue would do…”
“What?” he went rigid. Bending forward, that old instinct to fight or fly racing through his nerves after centuries.
“I’ve never been a fan of contacts,” she smiled so easily as she leaned back against the top of his desk, fingers splayed on his files and papers. “Better if you just showed the world your natural eyes, Mr. Ancunìn….”
His nostrils flared, his breath racing and head swimming. But this time there was no fucking tadpole, he knew that.
“What’s your name…” he hissed, narrowed eyes leveling at her.
“I can tell you, unless you’re bent on letting your stash of blood from getting cold…. Astarion.”
His hand flew to her neck, bringing her up into his face, fangs bared, hackles raised, every long suppressed vampiric sense firing on all cylinders now as he smelled her. “Name,” he commanded.
“Taveria Ylfe,” she swallowed under his hold. “But those close to me have always called me Tav….”
“Tav,” her name was a gasp in his throat.
“And I know you,” she said, breathy and quick. “I didn’t know how… but there was something about you that made me… unsettled.”
“Twenty-two objections later and you call yourself… unsettled?” he smirked, lightening his hold, but stroking his fingers on her skin.
Her skin.
“Well, darling,” she purred, "lifetimes of perfect memory for our kind, and I should have recognized my lover with the crimson eyes and pointed fangs.”
Astarion shook his head, swallowing the rising ball of emotion that caught in his throat. “I’d cry, but it’ll make my contacts hurt,” he gave a wet laugh. His thumb traced on the side of her neck, two circle marks in her flesh, like moles or scars…
“You found them, the brands I’ve have on my flesh ever since you, Astarion,” she added, eyes batting shut under his touch. “I’ve looked for you in every lifetime, my true love with roguish swagger, red eyes, pointed fangs, and massive…”
She paused, pursing her lips.
“Ego?” he offered as an answer, but she shook her head.
“Cock,” she grinned as she bit her lip.
“I was hoping you’d say that… darling…” He hissed as her hand grasped at the gusset between his legs. “Looking for your evidence?” he growled, a roll of his hips into the pressure of her touch. So ancient and familiar. “You’ll get it, darling, if you want it…”
“I do, Astarion,” she sighed, fingers stroking back and forth on the cotton of his pants, feeling that rising erection instantly straining back.
A monsterous growl in his throat, a burning hunger in his belly, he grasped at the back of her neck, pulling her against his lips.
The age-old dance, the same taste. Closing his eyes, his body transported a millennia ago… as if he could smell blood and woodsmoke and magic in the air mixed with her scent. Had he suppressed so much of his senses he couldn’t recognize her scent? Had he ignored the same beat of her heart in her chest, same musical rush of blood in her veins?
He shook his head to let all that go, realizing her hands already tore through her own blazer and button down, clothing now cast to the floor. Already, she had shimmied off the desk, pressing harder into his kiss. He waited for no further invitation, hands instantly sliding her slacks from her perfect curves, his own clothing suddenly feeling too tight and too abrasive.
Astarion only wanted her skin on him now. After so long. He couldn’t move fast enough, his reflexes had dulled from neglect, his dexterity a fraction of what it once was with her. But it, too, slowly crept back, his hands making quick work of his own clothes.
Suddenly, those fingers remembered the smoothness of her skin, rekindled their dexterity. His hand clawed into her hair, the other stroked down her belly, backing her perfect body to perch on the edge of his desk. The gasp he drew from her lips as he sank two fingers into her folds woke something feral in him, something ancient. Vampiric.
“Tav,” he hissed, nuzzing against the music of her artery, rubbing along the stream of her blood in her neck. “May I, please…”
“Mmm, I want to see your real eyes before you take anything of mine, Astarion,” she purred, arching against him. One hand splayed on the desk behind her, she smirked and watched. Never had anyone removed contacts so quickly, so dexterously.
As he blinked, her heart poured open. That scarlet glare, that tilted head, those mussy silver curls. “I can’t believe it’s you…” she sighed.
His eyes went wide, shining in his unshed tears and well of emotion. “I’m so tired of words, Tav,” he replied, voice cracking with that exhaustion and unbridled desire now. “Just give me all of you, to lose myself in, to lose these long and draining years in, years without you.”
Not another word as said, nothing but the groans of their joining once more, the shudder of their bodies as they fucked, the creaking of the wood beneath her as he slammed his hips against it. Cock buried deep in her cunt, fangs digging into her neck.
Both parts of her were hot and leaking. Blood spilled from his mouth once more—warm and fresh and sweetened with her taste. Arousal leaked into the wood beneath them, her musk and sweat the only perfume he longed to smell.
He swirled his tongue over his bite marks, fresh bleeding wounds that swallowed those scars she was born with. A lasting brand on her skin as she had forever been on his heart, his soul.
He couldn’t bring her close enough to him, fingers clawed into her ass to keep her from sliding away with his frantic thrusts. And she had already wrapped herself around his waist, already scratched up the places of his back that weren’t riddled with scars still. Clutching him tightly to never lose him again.
Their lips were sealed together, locked as they sucked and moved and danced in their ancient kiss, the taste of her blood sending them both reeling into oblivion. She keened as her walls spasmed around his cock, that familiar ripple and beat of her climax pressing against his every wild and erratic thrust.
His forehead resting against her shoulder, the scent of her blood there was the last little push he needed, losing himself in the trembling warmth and comfort and pull of her body. His cock pulsed hard inside her, thrumming against her muscles as he came harder than anything for a thousand years. Forcing his head back up, he locked eyes with her, face twisting and arms shaking as he came. Lips pulled back to show those glistening and reddened fangs.
Her hand braced hard at the back of his neck, keeping her with him as his hips thrust, slowing as he emptied into her. At last he stilled, a foolish, young smile on his gaping lips, lips he licked clean.
He would tell her sometime, how she had made his undead heart remember how to beat and love again twice now. How she brought him back to life over and over again. But with that haze in her eyes, the way she clenched still around his cock, he knew this wouldn’t be the end of their reunion.
Thank the gods.
Lips curling as she met her mouth in a kiss, she drew him in again for more. “I have a hotel…” she whispered.
“And I have a penthouse, darling,” came his instant reply between her ravenous caresses.
“Hmm,” she laughed deep in her throat, their kiss still working slowly, unable to break apart once more. “As long as you keep it cleaner than your tent once was, I accept. Someplace for us until the morning when we return to court…”
His fingers, coated in the scent of her arousal, stayed her mouth. “Tch, surely even a young thing like you knows this will end in mistrial now,” he smirked. “Not even I can think of a clause that allows for lost soul mates to continue in court after such…” he glanced at the mess between their legs, “…debauchery.”
“Oh well,” she feigned disappointment, sliding off to retrieve her clothes. “Worth it…”
Suddenly his arms gripped her, pulling her by the swell of her ass, flush against his naked body one more time. “It’ll be days before either of us must return to court… long, exhausting, pleasure-filled days, darling.”
Tav dove up for his kiss, standing in her tiptoes to meet that smirk that haunted her for centuries. “You better hurry me away to your place, Astarion, or someone will find us here making up for lost time.”
Reluctantly and with a deafening sigh, he relented, busying himself to dress again.
“Oh,” she commented, that taunting tone in her voice, “and don’t think I missed how you never answered it your place was still a mess of chaos again.”
He turned, shaking his head as he refastened his belt. “Well, even if you are disappointed in that regard, I can assure you…” he gave her that look, those half-lidded eyes, that sharpened fanged smirk, “you won’t be left wanting in other regards.”
#astarion x tav#modern au#astarion modern au#judge astarion#lawyer Tav#astarion fic#astarion fanfic#astarion smut#vampire spawn#astarion spawn#spawn astarion#bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3
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The search for the man in the black suit
You were assigned to find and capture Higuruma Hiromi, a curse user sentenced to death by Jujutsu higher ups. You're just not sure if he really deserves to die.
Tags: Jujutsu Kaisen, f!reader, angst, canon-typical violence.
WC: 3.5K
This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles related to Nanami x Reader x Higuruma. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots and short stories, please visit my masterlist :)
Disclaimer: these stories NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above.
From the unexplainable exorcism of multiple curses in just two days around Morioka City, Jujutsu High was able to triangulate the curse user's most probable hideout. You were assigned to find the man and capture him, in order to take him to execution by Tengen's established Jujutsu Society.
However, you were authorized to use lethal force in case he posed a direct threat to your life.
The man was 35-years-old Higuruma Hiromi. He was a former criminal defense lawyer that awakened his cursed technique during trial, right after his client got convicted, and wound up killing the prosecutor and the judge in the process. Jujutsu High provided you with some pictures of him, and in absolutely all of them, he was wearing a signature black suit with a sunflower pin on the lapel, always accompanied by a black tie.
Normally, these murders would be addressed by the regular justice system. However, because it involved cursed activity according to multiple accounts from witnesses that were in the courtroom that day, Jujutsu High was entrusted with the task of dealing with him.
Ever since he killed those two people, he was missing, and this is where you came in — you were entrusted with locating him and capturing him.
It felt odd going into this mission, and you couldn't help but wonder what got that man — supposedly a straight A's upstanding citizen and criminal defense lawyer — to commit murder. He surely was accustomed to fighting for hopeless causes and betting on losing dogs, especially in Japan where the conviction rate was so high, so why snap at this case? What had happened?
You remembered yourself how you were, once, targeted by Jujutsu High, and decided, while you got off the train, to give the man the benefit of the doubt.
***
It was night already, and the cool breeze soothed your face as you closed the car's door behind you. Following the directions you received when assigned this mission, you took a cab and wound up in front of an abandoned building.
You checked the address, and sure enough, it matched the area you were supposed to look around to find the former lawyer.
Standing in front of that concrete carcass, you made your way inside, noticing the door to the entrance was completely gone. The building apparently had three floors from what you could tell after counting the windows visible from the outside, and you knew you'd have to check them all thoroughly in case this man was hiding.
However, it proved unnecessary.
Right in the middle of the first floor, you spotted a full bathtub, which was already odd enough. On top of that, the man you were looking for was laying inside of it, completely clothed, and didn't spare you a look as you came inside and stood there, staring at him in confusion.
"Have you ever bathed with your clothes on?" He inquired, suddenly.
"Hm, no" you answered, slightly taken aback. What kind of question is that? "I'm from a very cold place, even thinking of it gives me anxiety."
He was still staring at the ceiling, lit by moonlight and streetlamps that bled through the destroyed windows. "Where?"
"I'm from Odate" you answered, still completely puzzled as to why he was just making small talk with you. In any case, you decided to humor him, maybe he'd comply more easily to come with you if you did so.
"Odate? Akita Prefecture, right? Lovely place. I went there once." His expression was completely blank as he said this.
"Did you?"
"Yes. I went there for a case. I was a criminal defense lawyer." He answered, lingering on the last word.
You gave it some moments before asking, "How did it end?"
"My client was convicted to life imprisonment. He was innocent."
Silence.
You introduced yourself, and asked him if he was Higuruma Hiromi. He sighed at the sound of his name, finally looking at you.
"Yes, I am Higuruma Hiromi."
His eyes were empty and perceptive, and even in this silly scenario, he looked anything but silly. Even though you were a Grade 1 sorcerer, for a brief moment, the lingering question if you could take him on or not crossed your mind. You weren't sure. His aura was something else.
"If you know who I am, then you probably know what I've done." He said, nonchalantly.
You nodded. "Higuruma Hiromi. 35 years old. Former criminal defense attorney. Killed two people using an innate cursed technique after the conviction of one of your clients. His verdict of innocence was overturned, and you demanded a retrial, killing both victims on the spot."
He scoffed, and slid himself just a little under the water, protruding his knees up. "I thought I'd feel anything when listening to my charges. My clients always stiffened or hunched over when they did. I just feel... Nothing." He sighed. "So is that what this is? Innate cursed technique, you say?"
"Yes. They are a special kind of cursed energy manipulation from what we call jujutsu sorcery. Some people are born with them, and it usually manifests during childhood. However, it can happen later in life, often due to traumatic events and very negative experiences" you answered.
He seemed pensive for a moment. "And I assume you can manipulate cursed energy too, right? You seem to know a lot about it."
Your body tensed up. His voice had changed, and he began to emanate a discreetly menacing aura. "Yes, I can."
To the sound of that, the curse user put each hand to the side of the bathtub and began lifting his body up.
"I want to know what happened in Keita's trial. Why he was found innocent in the first place" you said, and the man stopped in his tracks, diverting his gaze to you. He seemed slightly interested, and you decided to double down.
"You were someone that took on incredibly hard criminal cases in a country with an extremely high conviction rate. Why did you kill these two people after he got convicted?"
Higuruma pondered for a moment before answering. "Because I grew tired of people's ugliness." He began. "My client got his favorable sentence overruled simply because a prosecutor had a chip on his shoulder, wanted to appease the media, and the judge couldn't bother to do this job rightfully, eager to end his work load for the day and leave, failing to see the people and lives he affected. All he saw were just piles of papers to be taken care of."
He paused.
"Because of their ugliness, an innocent man will spend the rest of his life behind bars."
At that moment, you were sure this wasn't the speech of a cold-blooded murderer, but someone that got so disfigured by an unfair system that he, too, became disfigured himself.
"I understand" you replied. "I'm sorry that happened to your client."
His eyes became less vacant for a split second, but his walls came back up as quickly as he asked, "how do you know who I am, and what are you doing here?"
Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment. "I was sent to capture you and take you to Tokyo. People that manipulate and employ cursed energy in Japan are subject to Jujutsu's Laws."
"Oh, so you're a jujutsu police officer of some sort?" He inquired. "Unfortunately, I don't talk to police officers without the presence of a lawyer, and since you didn't let me know that beforehand, nothing I told you up until now can be used as evidence against me."
"Ah... What?" You asked, genuinely confused.
He snorted, smiling. "I just wanted to play the 'accused and interrogated by the police' role for once."
"... Oh."
Yeah. He was definitely messed up in the head.
You were both sharing an incredibly awkward silence for a minute that seemed like an eternity.
"So, can I take you now?" You finally asked, breaking the silence.
"No."
More awkward silence.
"I mean, I just came here to do that."
"I understand. The answer is still no" he retorted. "There is probably a life imprisonment or death sentence waiting for me, am I correct?"
You failed to spit out an answer for him on the spot, and he took great notice of that.
"As I thought. So, no, I won't come with you out of my own volition." Higuruma said that as he got out of the bathtub and started walking towards you.
You took a step back and tried reasoning with him. "I intended to suggest a lesser punishment for you when we got to Tokyo. From what you've told me, you are not a murderer. Just someone that apparently lost his way and-"
"Lost my way?" He scoffed. "I haven't. I just see the truth more clearly now."
His cursed energy started radiating, and you knew now there was no turning back — you'd have to fight.
You conjured up many small grenades in-between your fingers, but before you could do anything, you saw yourself engulfed inside a courtroom. Higuruma was standing on the other side, and there was a giant black creature with a white face right behind him.
"Eh?! What the hell is this?!" You said, surprised. "Is this your domain expansion?"
"Oh, so that's what it's called? Domain expansion?"
Before he could do anything, you jumped over the pulpit and threw your grenades towards him. However, you were instantly warped back to your position, and felt even more confused than before.
"No violence is allowed inside this courtroom."
So it isn't a sure hit domain? What the hell is going on?
"Let me explain. In here, I have evidence of a crime you committed." He lifted an envelope. "Judgeman, who is right behind me, will say your charges. He knows everything about everyone inside the domain. After hearing your charges, you'll have time to make your statements, and with the evidence in my hands, to which you'll not have access to, I'll argue against your allegations. Then, Judgeman will sentence you based on the six japanese codes."*
*AN: The six Japanese codes are the Constitution, the Civil Code, the Criminal Code, the Commercial Code, the Code of Criminal Procedure, and the Code of Civil Procedure.
"What are the possible punishments?"
"Unfortunately, that is not up to me, but you can say anything you want in your defense during your deposition."
"Well, shouldn't I have access to the evidence in order to make my defense? And shouldn't you speak first? I mean, you're acting like a prosecutor. And if Judgeman knows everything, how can I expect a fair trial? It's like expecting God or any all-knowing being to-"
He scoffed. "Things are rarely fair in a courtroom. And Judgeman's sentencing will take into account only our allegations. Now let's get to it. Judgeman is not very patient."
The shikigami proceeded.
"February 20th, 2008, Odate City, Akita Prefecture. You stand accused of suppression of evidence related to a criminal case of another person, consisting in keeping items related to murders carried out by Shogo Yamada and not surrendering those objects to the authorities. What do you have to say in your defense?"
Oh. You remembered that, alright. You, Nanami and Gojo kept most of the items that contained cursed energy traces that they found on the murder scenes and never surrendered those to the police. After the end of their mission, Gojo and Nanami took those items with them, and they were all probably kept somewhere in Jujutsu High ever since.
Shit, what do I say?
You had a half-assed idea.
"We only did so in order to carry out our own investigation and reach him before the police did, considering he was a curse user that killed people with his innate cursed technique and would most likely harm any officer that got to him. So we were acting in legitimate defense of third parties" you answered, kind of incredulous all of this was happening.
Higuruma opened his envelope, and it had a picture of Shogo, deceased. "You could've surrendered that evidence to the police after his death. So, you undoubtedly kept evidences related to crimes of homicide unlawfully under your possession."
Fuck.
"The defendant is found guilty. Penalty: Confiscation" the shikigami said, before the entire domain dissipated.
You sighed, pissed. As you tried to conjure one of your grenades, it didn't work.
Higuruma noticed that.
"Confiscation, apparently, strips someone from their innate cursed technique."
To the sound of that, you clenched your hand and imbued it in cursed energy. At least I have that. I can try to fist fight this guy.
"Well, what would you say in my defense in that case, lawyer?" You asked, begrudgingly.
"It's simple, really. The law states that it is a crime to suppress evidence related to a criminal case of another person. Given that these murders were carried out by a curse user, and also what you just told me — that there are Jujutsu Laws to judge those who kill using jujutsu —, he wouldn't be under the jurisdiction of the regular justice system, so there would be no need to surrender that evidence in the first place. The fact that you're here and not the police proves that Jujutsu Laws overrule the Penal Code, and Jujutsu Laws are not contemplated by the six codes Judgeman adheres to."
Asshole.
"Fine, then let's get this over with" you replied.
Suddenly, he threw a gavel at you, and you dodged it by the skin of your teeth. Damn, he's fast.
You realized, at that moment, you were in deep trouble, as he lunged at you grabbing the gavel that ricocheted back. You had some taijutsu training with Gojo, and prayed it'd be enough to keep you alive during this fight.
Jumping away to keep some distance in between the two of you, you thought you'd have some time to think of a strategy, but he was quicker, managing to hit you and send you flying to the other side of the room. Reinforcing your body with cursed energy, you managed to scrape off most of the damage, but were still very much hurt due to the blunt force impact.
Right before he dashed in your direction again, the roof came crumbling down, separating the both of you, as Higuruma stood closer to the exit, and you were very much cornered in the back of that floor.
It took you a moment to fully grasp what was going on. A gigantic spider-like curse, completely black with no eyes, had apparently been drawn to this place due to the cursed energy from your fight.
This isn't good. I can't make a run for it right now, I'm completely trapped and have no grenades or anything else.
You made the next decision in a split second.
"Higuruma, run! I'll handle this!" You shouted, surprising him.
"You have no innate cursed technique anymore!" He yelled back.
"I know that! Just fucking go! Save yourself!" You replied on the top of your lungs, dodging the curse's first three strikes.
By no means was he innocent, and just moments prior, Higuruma was actively trying to kill you. Even so, you were someone that strongly believed in second chances, and though you couldn't exactly explain why, you still felt he deserved repentance.
That would never happen if he got killed in there.
"Go!" You shouted at him, seeing that the curse user simply stood there, dumbfounded, looking at you.
During this brief moment of distraction, the curse whipped one of its many legs directly against your abdomen, and you hit the concrete behind you, feeling your mouth instantly spurting with thick puddles of blood. You could distinctly feel you were injured internally, and that it was ugly.
On top of that, you knew you wouldn't be able to RCT yourself quickly enough.
Shit...
You saw the snow from Odate, while the cold formed beautiful fractals against the glass in your old home's window. Felt the taste and smell of your favorite tea, a recipe passed on through generations in your family. The day your parents left in the middle of the night, you were holding your brother in your arms, scared of what would happen to the two of you. Your brother's laughter. Your best friend hugging you the day you both graduated from High School. The afternoon you came to Jujutsu High. Nanami's face smiling at you. You saw it all in the longest second of your life.
I'm going to die.
The curse came at you and began descending three of its legs all at once, and you braced yourself for the impact.
Surprisingly, it never came.
When you realized, Higuruma was in front of you, using his gavel to hold the curse's legs at arm's length.
"Move!" He shouted, and you rolled yourself over propelling your body with your legs, as he swirled himself and his gavel around the curse's limbs. Higuruma instantly charged at it, dealing a blow that threw the cursed spirit across the vicinity.
He was definitely very strong for a modern day sorcerer, and you were even more sure of that seeing him go toe to toe with a strong Grade 1 curse.
However, you still needed a way to get yourself out of there.
Tapping inside your belt bag, you reached for your phone, praying it wasn't destroyed when you got hit twice. By a miracle, it wasn't, and you started to text Gojo, the only person you knew that had the ability to warp himself around.
Sending you my location. Injured. Came here to capture curse user. Need help asap. Might die.
It was a long shot, but the only one you had.
As you were praying that Gojo saw that message and came to your rescue, you had the chance to witness firsthand how talented this curse user was. He made close combat look easy, jumping around the curse and hitting it with his gavel — is this gavel bigger now? — effortlessly.
Suddenly, his weapon became 10 times the size it previously was, and Higuruma used it to propel himself in the air, swinging the gavel down directly over the curse, completely crushing the spirit underneath.
It had been exorcized.
You wanted to sigh relieved, but as Higuruma landed, he turned to face you. On his face, a mixture of confusion, shock, and something else you couldn't quite grasp. It kind of looked like... Annoyance?
"Why did you-" He began asking.
At that moment, a whiff of wind blew inside the room, and you mustered enough strength to yell "don't kill him!" shortly before Gojo threw Higuruma against the wall. At impact, the curse user fell on the floor, confused as to what was going on.
"Knock him out!" You shouted.
Gojo swiftly approached the man and planted two of his fingers on Higuruma's forehead, who instantly passed out.
Now you were relieved.
"So... What happened and why did you ask me not to kill him?" Gojo said, turning to look at you. "Oof, you're beat up. Guess we gotta increase our training sessions!" He chirped, grinning.
"Ugh, come on, Gojo. I'm bleeding internally, cut the jokes for a second, will you?" You said, rolling on your back, while healing your insides with RCT.
"Not for long, I see. Your RCT is improving" he noted.
"I was about to capture this guy, but we got jumped by a Grade 1 curse."
"What? And you couldn't defeat it, a Grade 1? Have you become weak or something?!" Gojo inquired, walking up to you and looking at your pathetically splayed beat-up body on the ground as you healed.
"Shut up. I don't have my innate cursed technique right now. He neutralized it."
Gojo widened his eyes. "He did?! How?"
"It's the effect of getting caught up inside his domain, which doesn't work with the sure hit thing. Ugh, come on, help me up" you complained, extending one of your hands. Gojo grabbed it and pulled you sharply, sending a wave of pain throughout your body. "Goddammit, man, be more delicate."
He laughed and waved his hands, dismissing your complaints. "You'll be just fine. Now, what was that about a domain that can remove other people's innate cursed techniques?"
You tried conjuring one of your grenades, and it came to your hand. At the sight of that, you sighed, relieved.
"Long story short, he can temporarily deactivate someone's technique if they suffer some sort of conviction from a Shikigami." You gazed at Higuruma, still asleep on the floor. "He's also insanely talented. I was led to believe I was sent to capture a dangerous killer, but he just-" your voice paused for a moment.
"Hm?"
"He just seems misguided."
You pondered for a moment.
"Could he work with us? I mean, we're always short-staffed."
Gojo was surprised, and asked, "really? I mean, you were only in this deep shit situation because of him."
"I mean, he was going to get captured and taken for execution. I'd defend myself, too. Also, his crimes wouldn't necessarily render him a death penalty if he was to be judged by a regular Court. He'd probably get life imprisonment or maybe imprisonment for a certain number of years."
The sorcerer thought about it for a moment, and walked towards Higuruma.
"He deserves a second chance, and will certainly be an asset for Jujutsu High" you concluded. "He's strong. He exorcized this grade 1 curse without my help, and he awakened his abilities a week ago or so."
"Are you sure?" He asked, lifting his blindfold with a finger to look at you.
"I am. Gojo, you saved me from the claws of the higher ups. They're arbitrary bigots, you know that." You said. "Please, take this as a request from a friend, will you?"
"Fine" Gojo replied, throwing Higuruma over his shoulder and giving you a thumbs up. "I'll do my best! But you owe me a bag of kikufuku."
You smiled at him. "Of course. I'd expect no different. Thank you."
--
End notes:
So, this one was a fun one. I literally read the japanese Penal Code and put my own knowledge of law hierarchy, criminal law interpretation and criminal procedure (as of today I can say I do have a masters degree in it 😂) to use. Hope you guys like it! xoxo 🦉
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#higuruma hiromi#jjk higuruma#jjk imagines#jjk hiromi#hiromi jjk#hiromi higuruma#higuruma#jujutsu kaisen higuruma
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,, mr. prosecutor ‘‘
‘’objection! you’re making up things!”
prosecutor!heeseung X lawyer!femReader
heeseung never thought that out of all the people in the world, he’d be forced to marry you. || genre arranged marriage!au, angst , open ending! || wc 1.3k+ || lowercase intended. || ✎ ᝰ . i’ve been thinking about it for ages!! i reallyyyyy hope you’ll enjoy reading<3
“what if i tell you that i love you? will you also object my love for you?”
“objection! you’re making up things! this reason is invalid! my client claims that he was at his friend’s house at the very same day and has tons of alibis! he’s being dragged into this case and blaming him as the defendant is a mistake!” your voice echoed through the court. you were glaring at the other prosecutor, who stood in front of you and had a big smirk all over his face.
“please, keep on talking” the judges said and now it was your turn to smirk. “on the night of the 9th, my client was in the convenient store and went to his friend’s house right away. the cameras all over the place are showing his way and time, take a look at these evidences” you said and clicked on the remote to play the evidences.
the evidence on the TV indeed showed your client on his way to his friend’s house, and staying there even before the accident at the convenience store happened. the prosecutor who smirked a minute ago held his forehead in disappointment. “next time don’t accuse someone innocent, mr. prosecutor” you whispered and smirked at the other prosecutor who was now glaring at you.
at the end, your client was proven innocent and you made your way out of the court. “you’re the best lawyer! thank you thank you thank you!” your client kept thanking you. “i’m just doing my job” you smiled and dismissed him.
“congrats,” you heard a voice saying behind you. “i’ll make sure the next trail we meet won’t be easy for you” he smirked.
“save it to yourself, heeseung” you sighed.
whenever heeseung smirks or does literally the bare minimum in front of you, you can’t help it but feel something that makes you feel uneasy around him, your cheeks slightly heat up and your stomach makes turns.
sure, he’s your worse enemy and you share hate towards each other, but you can’t deny the fact that he’s surprisingly attractive, and you’d totally date him if he weren’t your nemesis and your ego wasn’t highly up in the sky.
little did you know, it was totally mutual, and even something more than just stomach turns for heeseung. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you for some reason, whenever you weren’t looking at him, he was staring at you, and whenever he wasn’t looking at you, you were staring at him.
it was love feeling between you two, covered up by hate, because both of your egos were up too high and none of you would like to admit it.
“all you do is talk and talk heeseung, it’s getting on my nerves already” you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “that’s my job” he winked at you.
“i don’t have time for this useless conversation” you flipped him off and went on your way to your car.
you were putting your things such as the case files and bags on the passenger seat when your father called you. “hello father” you coldly said. “Y/N! come to your favorite restaurant, i have something to tell you” he ordered. “alright i’ll be right there” you hang up the call and started driving your way.
you and your father’s relationship isn’t the best. when you were younger, he was barely at home.
your family was rich thanks to your so workaholic and busy father, but it made him not being there for you ever. he was never there when you had your first steps, he never saw you when you won in the dance competition, it was basically just you and your mom. your father thought that being rich gives you everything you want, but he didn’t think deeply and throughly about your relationship with him.
when you were senior, he signed you up for a law school without asking you, “you need to take over my company, you have to study law and become the next CEO” he basically forced you into being a lawyer. your father has a lawyers company and he is a lawyer himself, you’re the only one who could take over his place and he had to make sure it’s really going to happen.
arriving at the restaurant, you said to the hostess your last name and she took you to the table. you looked around the table and saw your father, his friend and….heeseung??
you look disgusted but sat down when your father ordered you, “say hello to my friend and his son, it’s not very nice of you to ignore them” your father smiled and you nodded. deciding to put on an act as if you don’t know heeseung at all, “hello, im Y/N, it’s nice to meet you” you smiled and bowed a bit.
your father put his hand on your shoulder and got you closer to him. “isnt she pretty?” he asked them. “she grew up to be a beautiful lady” his friend nodded, “you probably don’t remember me, i was your father’s best friend” he giggled, “still am actually, but we were too busy to see each other, i remember you being so little when you and heeseung first met” he added.
you looked at heeseung and he looked at you back, it wasn’t a glare now, it was something different, that never happened between you two before. “on the first day you two met we already made a contract on your marriage” your father said. “i’m sorry, what now?” you asked shocked.
“you and heeseung are bound to marry dear. me and your father decided it’ll be for the best” his friend said. “how does it benefit any of us?” heeseung bragged. “fame for both companies!” your father asked. “it’ll be even better when you two get married” his father added.
“what if i disagree?” you asked. “you’ll be breaking a contract and will have to pay millions if you do” your father answered calmly. “does anyone reject it?” his friend asked and you all shut up. “then it’s settled! there’s going to be a wedding!” your father cheered and clapped.
“i’m sorry you’re going to what now?” your best friend asked you. “marry this man” you rolled your eyes, “my father told me about that only yesterday it feels like a nightmare please wake me up” you begged.
she knows about your and heeseung’s rivalry but she also knows about your secret feelings for heeseung, you’re always telling her how confused you feel whenever he’s around you.
“you poor soul….” she pat your head. “it’s going to be okay” she smiled. “wait a month after the marriage and then break it off”
“that’s actually a great idea! i love your brilliant brain so much” you pecked her forehead and joked. you spent the rest of your morning sitting in a cafe shop with her and chatting about everything you could.
you tried to drown yourself in work for the rest of the day, but stopped when you heard a few knocks on your door.
you opened your door, and to your surprise, heeseung was standing outside.
“what are you doing here? how did you get my address?” you instantly asked. “that’s not how you treat your guests” he rolled his eyes. “i could care less” you roasted, “i will ask again, what are you doing here?”
“i wanted to talk about yesterday” he sighed, he was staring at you with some hope in his eyes.
“we have nothing to talk about, we’re marrying out of force, not love” you firmly said, “we’ll fill up divorcement papers a month after and never meet again unless it’s in courts”
he dropped his stare slowly and nodded quietly. you continued, “i clearly object this marriage but i don’t have millions to pay to break it off and—“
“what if i tell you that i love you? will you also object my love for you?” he cut you off and looked right into your eyes.
© srjlvr , pls don’t copy/translate any of my works without permission ! | reblogs and comments are very appreciated !
#enhypen imagines#enhypen drabbles#enhypen#enhypen x you#enhypen x reader#enhypen x female reader#enhypen headcanons#enhypen scenarios#enhypen heeseung#enhypen lee heeseung#heeseung fluff#enhypen fluff#heeseung imagines#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung oneshots#heeseung x reader#heeseung scenarios#heeseung headcanons#heeseung drabbles
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Hey look, it’s me, back with another fic brought you by Being Gay.
Being Gay: Women. All women. Fuck.
Title: Familiar Encounter
Pairing: Cabenson (Olivia Benson x Alex Cabot)
Genre: Uh, Smut. Sorry.
Rating: M
Summary: Olivia and Alex have an arrangement.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. Obviously.
Opener
There’s nothing quite like the feel of someone’s hand running down your body, their lips pressing to your neck, and that little whisper in your ear that makes your entire body shudder with excitement. There’s nothing like a breathless kiss or being pinned to a wall. That overwhelming feeling that washes over, the hand that grasps your throat. It’s all worth it just for that final climax.
Familiar Encounter
Alex: Well, my day has been awful. Want to grab a drink?
Olivia: I gotta work late. What happened?
Alex: Judge threw out the Hammond case. Fin is pissed with me, I just need to relax.
Olivia: Ah, shit, sorry Al. I won't be outta here until ten. Raincheck?
Alex: Sure, I'll see you tomorrow.
Alex sighed and threw her phone down on the coffee table. The blonde settled back on her fabric couch and looked out of the large window it was facing. Her eyes glanced at the New York City skyline, offices still being worked in, and apartments with the slight sign of life on a Thursday night. Alex sighed once more, her eyes feeling heavy from the day, but she wasn't tired. It was barely eight in the evening. Usually, she worked late, but after losing against an opponent she considered extremely inferior to her skill in the courtroom. Maybe she was having an off day? She woke up that morning feeling uneasy about the case, an unusual sensation for the great Alexandra Cabot of the District Attorney's Office. Alex was quite often feared by some defense attorneys. She has made a name for herself in the New York law scene and even intimidated the other prosecutors. It was a lonely life. Aside from scaring away anyone that came into contact, those who didn't fear her were cops and most of them didn't enjoy drinking with her, especially when she lost their case. The only person who gave her any form of friendship beyond the means of what she could do for them was Olivia Benson.
The two hated each other at first, Olivia didn't agree with Alex joining their team ten years ago, but she soon warmed to the new ADA. Alex enjoyed their Friday night ritual, going for a drink, dinner, and whatever else happened after. No one seemed to make her smile quite like Olivia Benson. She enjoyed those moments when she felt like she wasn't just an ADA. She was a friend. During her time in the programme, Alex felt lost being away from Olivia. She wanted nothing more than to pick up her phone and hear her voice but she was trapped in suburban Oklahoma. Oh, the tragedy. She only returned to her old life for a day before being whisked away once more. Away from everyone she knew, away from Olivia. When she was finally allowed to return to her normal life, this time for good, she didn't know how to approach Olivia… so, she didn't. She hid away behind a new job, a new apartment, and a new fiancé she didn't want. She was eventually placed back on sex crimes, not by her own choice. “If anyone can work with those detectives, it’s you.” Jack McCoy’s demands were evident. After Novak was suspended, SVU went through lawyer after, lawyer after lawyer. None of them seemed to stick around long enough to make a small drop in the large ocean those detectives sailed through. The detectives of the Manhattan SVU were different from other precincts. They had pride, courage, and genuine care for the victims. They had a moral need to do what was right and that often conflicted with ADAs who would rather do the bare minimum.
Alex pushed herself up from the couch, she pulled off her black blazer and tossed it on the coffee table before making her way into the adjoining kitchen. Alex wasn’t much of a chef she admitted in open court to setting fire to her kitchen back in the late 90s. Everyone Alex socialised with knew of her rich upbringing in Upstate New York, she was raised on a palate of lobster, steak, and perfectly cooked duck but she couldn’t stomach anything other than Kraft Mac’n’Cheese with butter, Cup Noodles (the good ones from Japan), and whatever takeout menu she could get her starving hands on. Once the Starbucks down the street opened, it was a game changer. Coffee whenever she wanted, and protein boxes she could take to work. Finally, she could improve her diet and step away from carbs, carbs, and more carbs, but the mere thought of kale made her gag. Alex didn’t have a selective palate… nor was she a picky eater, really, she just liked the foods that brought her comfort even if they came in a blue and yellow box.
Alex opened her fridge and pulled out the salad box from yesterday’s dinner.
“If I’m going to have carbs and cheese, I should probably have something green…” She muttered to herself as she walked over to the kitchen counter and placed down the plastic container.
Alex reached for the cupboard in front of her, pulled it open and retrieved one of the many Kraft boxes that sat on the shelf. As Alex opened the box, something hung in the air. The blonde swallowed hard as her breath became shallow. Her ears twitched as her eyes glanced to the left, but before she could turn she was pinned against the counter. A body pressed up against from behind. One arm around her waist, the other around her mouth. Alex’s eyes widened with fear as she panted against the hand. This was her worst nightmare, someone breaking into her apartment and taking control over her and she could do nothing about it. Alex feared the worst as her eyes scattered from left to right, her mind racing with the identity of her attacker. Could it be one of Velez’s followers seeking revenge after seven years? Could it be a disgruntled perp she put away years prior? Alex wanted to scream but she was frozen to the spot. The hand gripped her abdomen tighter and all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut. She could hear her heart racing in her ears as she felt whoever it was lean into her ear.
“Hands on the counter, Cabot.” The familiar softly spoke with a strong demanding tone behind it. A warm puff of breath against her ear and suddenly - everything changed for her.
Her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt those lips trail down her neck. She did as she was instructed. Any fear she had running through her veins was now replaced with a lustful need as a shockwave ran through her body and straight to her core. She could still feel those lips against her neck, her skin reacted with a gentle tingle forcing a moan to escape her lips muffled by the hand. Alex’s breath hitched as those lips planted a gentle kiss against her warm skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. Those lips travelled upward, grazing her skin softly until they reached her ear.
“Good girl. I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth and I’m going to blindfold you. Keep your hands on the counter.” She whispered into her ear. Alex shuddered and nodded.
The hand was removed. She didn’t say anything about talking.
“Jesus, fuck - Liv?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and still looking forward.
“Yeah.” She could hear the smirk on the detective’s lips.
“You could have said something in the text earlier? A little heads up so I didn’t think I was being home invaded.”
“You said you needed to relax… that’s usually the code for ‘fuck me, Liv, please.’”
Alex blushed a deep shade of crimson.
“Now, shut up and don’t break character again.” Olivia pressed herself back up behind the blonde as she dangled a silk scarf over her eyes.
Alex didn’t fight against Olivia as she wrapped the scarf around her eyes and tied it behind her head. She didn’t protest as the brunette’s hands snaked around her waist to the front of her blouse, untucking it from the pencil skirt. Alex fell back into the brunette’s embrace as she felt her lips against her shoulder, moving her hair out of the way so she could plant small kisses on her neck. Alex sighed softly, rolling her neck to the side to give the brunette more room. One hand played with the buttons that held her blouse closed, and the other ran down the side of the blonde’s body. She was in euphoria. Alex’s eyes fluttered closed behind the blindfold as every sense of her body was heightened. The sensation against her neck, she felt every puff of breath in between kisses, every goosebump in the wake of soft kisses, she could smell Olivia’s perfume, and she could hear her pulse as it quickened faster and faster. This was intoxicating.
They enjoyed playing these games, Olivia was always the more dominant one, though Alex didn’t mind all that much. They weren’t a couple, far from it, but they started these games before she was sent off to Witness Protection. They started with drinks every Friday night, just the two of them after everyone else had left. One night, Alex admitted how touch-starved she was, after not being with anyone since law school. Olivia took the opportunity to put forward a suggestion, which the blonde happily obliged. Later that night, Alex experienced one of the best climaxes of her life, all the while sitting on the detective’s face. She can remember gripping the headboard as her mind exploded and her body shook. It was mind blowing. Since that night - it was a weekly arrangement. Friday night. They were always the last two. Light flirting at the bar, followed by waking up together the next morning. After a short period, Alex realised she was slowly falling for the detective but she never told her how she felt. She knew the detective wasn’t the relationship kind of person and the last thing she wanted was for their encounters to end. She stayed quiet, has stayed quiet, all this time.
When she left for Africa, she was sure their encounters would end upon her return. It didn't take long for them to fall back into old habits. Things were easier now Elliot was gone. He wasn't always looking into Olivia's business, they didn't have to be so secretive anymore. Their weekly arrangements became an every other day appearance. Eventually, Alex gave Olivia a key to her apartment so she could just let herself in and she did, often. Whenever Olivia felt the mood, she would let herself into Alex's apartment whether it was for sex or just company. Alex knew she was playing a dangerous game when she let Olivia spend the night and she had to stop herself from telling her how she felt. Those feelings from all those years ago never went away, they just deepened. She wanted to find someone to break the cycle of sex and pining, but no one came close to Olivia. She dated interesting and kind people, some were fellow lawyers, others were doctors, detectives, and even a restaurant owner, but she couldn't get Olivia out of her mind no matter how much she tried. Olivia was the only person she wanted to spend an extended period of time with, she was the only one who could make her laugh, give her a pep-talk that lasted, and the confidence to put the bad guys away. She was falling seven years ago and she was sure she was done falling now.
Olivia's fingers opened Alex's blouse and displayed her torso to the night air. Olivia's lips pressed against the taller woman's shoulder as her fingers travelled over pale skin. Alex's muscles twitched under every touch as she rested her head on Olivia's shoulder softly whimpering. Olivia's hands finally reached Alex's breasts hidden away behind a red lace bra. She smiled against her skin as she kissed the blonde's cheek and cupped her with a gentle massage of her fingers. Alex arched her back to Olivia's fondling. Turning her head to capture the brunette's lips in a passionate kiss. Their first kiss of the night. Somehow the kiss tasted better when she was blindfolded. She could feel the moan from Olivia's lips. The gentle panting escaped her lips, desperate for the brunette not to pull away from their kiss. Olivia's hands squeezed softly. Her fingers grazed over Alex's risen nipple and an immediate response came from the blonde. She moaned again, the rough fabric of the bra and the sensation of Olivia's fingers. She wanted more. She could feel her core getting wetter and wetter, if she didn't have the panties or her tights on, she was sure her arousal would be making a mess on her thighs.
"Liv… please…" She whimpered begging for the release that was building up more and more.
Olivia smirked against her lips as a response, Alex knew she loved hearing her pleas for release. It made the brunette feel more powerful than she already was. Alex felt her skirt loosen as she heard the familiar sound of the zipper on the side fall. Olivia let go of the skirt and let it fall to the floor. Slowly, the brunette rolled Alex's tights down over her hips. Lowering her body along with them. She left a trail of kisses down Alex's back. The blonde moaned once more, every inch of her skin burned with every kiss. The anticipation grew more and more. A hum escaped as Olivia's lips pressed against Alex's left cheek just above her thigh. Alex stepped out of the skirt and let Olivia place the skirt and tights to the side before the brunette returned to where she wanted to be.
She gasped sharply as Olivia’s lips returned to her neck, her hand running down her torso. Alex turned once more to capture the brunette’s lips, even blindfolded, she could easily navigate. This kiss became deeper, and hunger grew, as Alex’s arousal only started to ache more. She wanted to feel the touch of the detective, she longed for the release that was building in her stomach. Finally, she felt Olivia’s fingers graze along the hem of her French panties. Her hips arched towards her hand as it dipped inside the delicate fabric. She broke the kiss only to moan into the dark apartment. She wanted to turn around and pull the brunette into her, feel their bodies together just like every other time they did this, but she was restrained to the countertop and there was nothing she could do about it.
Olivia ran her finger through Alex’s wet folds, the blonde moaned again resting her head back on Olivia’s shoulder. She could feel that familiar tightening in her core as her stomach twitched. She felt like she was already so close and Olivia hadn’t even started yet. Olivia was painfully slow as drew lazy circles around Alex’s bud. Alex hid her face in Olivia’s neck where her breathing became heavier and heavier. Her mind was a haze, muddy thoughts running, senses heightened. Alex groaned again as she felt the brunette’s finger run down her slit towards her opening. She was ready to beg once more, she couldn’t take much more of this playing until those words were whispered into her ear.
“Turn around, Cabot, but keep a hand on the counter.” She whispered to her, she could hear the smirk in her voice.
Alex followed the directions and turned around slowly, still with Olivia’s hand running through her folds. Alex’s hands gripped the counter to keep her steady as she felt the brunette push against her. She moaned at the skin-to-skin contact, she so badly wanted to run her hand down the detective’s chest and over her toned abdomen. She could still feel the fabric of Olivia’s open blouse brushing against her skin as Olivia leaned in and captured her lips. It was like one swift movement between the kiss and slowly slid in two of her fingers. Alex gasped against the brunette as she felt her walls tighten around her fingers welcoming her in further. She felt her knees become weak and her mouth become dry. Olivia’s lips crashed against those of the blonde in a passionate kiss pushing her further against the kitchen counter as she started with a steady rhythm. Lazily moving her fingers in and out of her lover, Alex desperately wanted to touch her but she could only grip the countertop tighter. Hitting that perfect spot, Alex’s back arches into Olivia, she knew she couldn’t hold out as the pressure began to grow more and more.
“Liv, please…” Her little whimpers echoed into the kitchen as their lips brushed, her breath hitched, and her body trembled.
As she felt herself reaching her point of climax, Olivia’s movements slowed. Instead, her lips traced along Alex’s jawline, as her freehand ran up and pulled the knot of the blindfold, letting it drop to the floor. Alex’s eyes fluttered open, darkened blue orbs stared into the pitch-black eyes of the detective. Olivia’s fingers traced along her jawline. A tender gesture, unusual of her lover to do such a thing. She swallowed hard as she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes stayed on her lover. Alex pressed her lips against Olivia’s fingers in a gentle kiss as they brushed across the bow of her top lip. Olivia smiled softly. Her eyes looked as if they were sparkling.
“You can touch me…” She whispered.
Alex wasted no time, her hands ran up her arms and then down her torso, over her toned abdomen, and pulled her closer. Olivia once again found that perfect spot, Alex’s eyes rolled back in her head as she dug her nails into Olivia’s torso. She tried to stifle her moan, however, the gentle hum of her voice escaped into the darkened apartment. She was so close and she knew that her time had come when she felt Olivia’s fingers curl inside of her. Alex’s body arched as her climax hit. Wave upon, wave, upon wave, crashed against her with every pulsation from her core. With sharp breaths, her eyes fell closed, and she couldn’t make a sound she held onto Olivia’s waist as her body convulsed. Coming down from her high she rested her head on her lover’s shoulder. Olivia smiled and pressed her lips to her temple as she slowly removed her fingers. Alex whimpered at the loss of contact, thankful the counter was there to support her weak legs.
Alex lifted her head, a lot more relaxed than earlier when she was sitting on her couch flicking through her phone. The long day of disappointment had long since vanished and all that was left was bliss. Alex sighed as she leaned back against the counter and opened her eyes looking into the deep brown orbs of the detective she had fallen for. As their foreheads came to rest, Alex wrapped her arms around Olivia’s shoulders with a warm smile. Everything felt so perfect, warm, and loving. She wanted so much more but she knew Olivia didn’t feel the same way and she wasn’t looking for a relationship. A sense of sadness crept over the lawyer as she tried to push herself away from Olivia and move from the counter, but she was pinned. Sandwiched between Olivia and the countertop.
“Liv… come on…” She mumbled as she tried to push past her again.
Olivia didn’t reply, she merely reached around Alex’s waist and pushed her up onto the countertop so they were at the perfect height to each other. She leaned in and captured her lips in a tender kiss. Alex felt her heart begin to race, this was different from any other kiss they have shared before. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she allowed herself to melt into the kiss and wrap her arms around Olivia’s neck. She leaned back resting her head against the cupboard. Her fingers laced through her long brown hair. The night lights from the streets of New York danced against their skin as they continued to share their loving kiss. Breaking for a moment to catch their breath, their lips merely brushed. Alex felt her heart as it began to swell in her chest. She loved this woman so much and she felt as if she couldn’t tell her. She didn’t want to lose what they had, yet the truth was consuming her. Alex pressed a soft kiss to Olivia’s lips. Her fingers danced along the olive-coloured skin of her cheek. She felt her smile against her lips causing a flutter in her chest.
“Liv…” She whispered.
“Hmm?” The brunette hummed in reply.
“I…” She can’t do it, she can’t change what she has.
At this moment, she has Olivia, she has her in her arms. She’s holding her, gazing into her eyes, but once she says those three words - it’ll end. Olivia will retreat and their meetings will be over. She couldn’t do it, she
“Alex?”
“Sorry, I-”
“Love you.”
Alex’s eyes widened as she leaned back from Olivia. Her eyes scanned the face of the woman in front of her, wondering if her ears truly heard what she said. A smile formed on her lips and the sparkle in her eyes, that’s when she realised what she said was true. Alex pulled Olivia back in for another kiss filled with passion and love, she let her walls crumble around her as she finally found the stability she had always longed for.
#cabenson#law and order svu#olivia benson#svu#alex cabot#stephanie march#mariska hargitay#sapphic#fanfiction#Neverlight’s Cabenson
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How a Rain Code x Ace Attorney crossover universe could work (in my personal interpretation):
Master Detectives have been around for as long as the judiciary has existed. In the early stages of the court system's development, these supernatural investigators were often paired with established defense attorneys and prosecutors in order to assist their respective sides in finding evidence and solving mysteries. On occasion, the World Detective Organization would send in specialized detectives with powers most compatible with their assigned attorney and law office. However, that was considered a luxury to only the most prolific in the work field.
As generations went by, Master Detectives became increasingly sought after to solve cases on their own. Lawyers sunk into a lower tier, forced to take on cases deemed 'dirty jobs' and lesser than in the critical eyes of the WDO. Despite this, attorneys of all kinds persisted in the growing competitive environment across the world.
In modern times, before The Dark Age Of The Law, attorneys took on civil cases most often, while Master Detectives handled criminal cases. But in rare events, criminal cases judged as not worth looking into (or perhaps involving the WDO itself) would be swept under the rug for capable attorneys to clean up after them. The WDO turned its nose up at assigning Master Detectives to lawyers, but sometimes secret alliances would be formed to allow for Master Detectives to gather confidential information for their partnered attorneys.
When The Dark Age Of The Law reared its ugly head, the entire justice system was thrown into chaos. Defense attorneys and prosecutors stopped at nothing to achieve their verdict. Falsifying evidence and manipulating testimonies were sick tricks all in service of a twisted victory. Competition was fierce and violent. In this state of disarray, Master Detectives became the perfect tools for creating fake evidence for their partners. Nobody could argue against their certifiably high status, lest naysayers face the wrath of the WDO. Going against the corrupted system was nigh impossible. Only someone from the inside could expose the dark underbelly of the WDO and the judiciary.
It is in this hopeless time that the Ultimate Secret loomed above the isolated city of Kanai Ward. It too suffered the consequences of the dark age; it's brutal police force taking on the roles of judge, jury, and executioner. With no entity powerful enough to fight back, surrendering was the only option for the city's citizens. That is, until a group of Master Detectives arrived and survived the onslaught, bringing Kanai Ward's peacekeeper director and Amaterasu's CEO to justice. This was just one small step in righting the wrongs wreaked by the dark age, but it was a glimmer of hope to know that change was possible.
With the subsequent arrest of The Phantom after being unmasked by the Wright Anything Agency, the dark age seemed to finally recede. However, the recovery process would prove to be long and grueling. Many agencies still festered with remnants of corruption. Now, it's up to the heroic lawyers who started this great change to see it through to its end. It all begins with the WDO specially requesting the Wright Anything Agency to conjoin with it's revitalized Kanai Ward detective division: the Nocturnal Detective Agency. Together, they would form the Nocturnal Justice Agency, determined to assist the citizens of the neon city and bring about a new era of righteousness.
#just pretend i know what i'm talking about#nocturnal justice agency#master detective archives: rain code#rain code#rain code spoilers#ace attorney#ace attorney spoilers#lore dump
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why do we have to be enemies?
pairing: nahyuta sahdmadhi x gn!reader
summary: your first encounter with nahyuta outside of the courtroom leads to a heated argument... and a heated kiss!
tags: banter to argument to passionate kiss, enemies to lovers, making out/kissing, happy ending, two idiots in love
“if it isn't prosecutor sahdmadhi…”
nahyuta hated the way you said his name. and it didn't help that you refused to address him by anything but his last name.
“ah, you're that defense attorney…”
nahyuta forced a fake smile on his lips as he turned around to face you. the two of you had met a few times before, but always just in court. this was the first time you two talked outside of the courtroom. and yet, you couldn't leave your little rivalry behind.
“i have a name, you know?”
for just a second, the hint of a real smile showed on nahyuta's face. judging by the tone of your voice, you were offended that he forgot your name. though there was no way he could ever forget anything about you.
“apologies, it must've slipped my mind…”
you gritted your teeth at his words. nahyuta seemingly knew how to rile you up, inside and outside of the courtroom.
“perhaps that's why you keep losing all your cases. with a memory like that, it's no wonder…”
nahyuta almost choked on air when he heard your words. while he was startled for a moment, he quickly was ready to add more oil to the fire.
“as if you'd know anything about winning yourself. as far as i recall, you were needing the assistance of your colleagues during those cases!”
the two of you had dropped the nice act by now, leaning closer with each sentence, while glaring at each other.
“at least i have people by my side! what about you, mr. sahdmadhi? where are all your friends?”
“i am well liked back in khura'in, you know? it's just you who can't appreciate me being around!”
“well, why don't you just go back to khura'in then? i'm sure that–”
“oh, just shut up and kiss me–!”
before you could let his words sink in, nahyuta had grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and pressed his lips against yours. you blinked surprised, before closing your eyes and simply letting it happen. somehow, this felt… rather nice.
“n-nahyuta…”
when he pulled away again, your cheeks had taken on a pinkish tone. nahyuta seemed much more composed and rather satisfied that you finally used his first name.
“you were talking too much”
a soft chuckle escaped your lips.
“yeah, i tend to do that”
“then i'll just have to shut you up again”
“oh, please do!”
#nahyuta sahdmadhi#nahyuta sahdmadhi x reader#nahyuta#sahdmadhi#nahyuta x reader#nayuta#sahadmadi#x reader#x you#x y/n#x gn reader#fluff#angst#enemies to lovers#rivals to lovers#ace attorney x reader#ace attorney#spirit of justice#oneshot#aa6
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Miles Edgeworth x Anxious!S/O
Tap... Tap...
I wrote this when I was half asleep do Not Judge me Please.
It was quiet.. almost too quiet.
It had been almost an hour— 49 minutes and 35 seconds to be exact. You weren't sure why you were keeping the time, but you were.
You tapped your foot, not too loudly, as to not bother the quietness of the empty office.
Tap... Tap...
God, why was he taking so long?! Why are you so focused on what time he would arrive? It's not like he was coming just to see you, it's an office, after all. Still, every second with him felt special.
Tap.. Tap..
I mean, the atmosphere would just... change! You swore you could feel his attitude change when speaking to you. Like he was more comfortable around you.
Tap.. Tap..
What if it's not like that at all?
What if you're lying to yourself? Just to make yourself feel wanted. What if, in reality, he hated your guts. He only acts different towards you because he despises you.
Tap.. Tap... Tap.
You froze. The thought of the one person you admired, hating you? It made you sick.
You could feel a headache coming on.
You felt so many things at once, yet nothing at all at the same exact time. Vision, blurry.
"(Name...?)"
You held your breath. A reassuring hand rested on your shoulder.
"(Name), you look rather pale, are you alright?" The man you had been waiting for, Miles Edgeworth, spoke in a concerned tone. You look up at the clock. 58 minutes and 55 seconds. It felt way longer than that. You wiped your hands nervously.
"Y—yes, Sir, I'm fine..."
Miles noticed you glancing back at the clock, pulling his hand away,
"Apologies for the late arrival (Name), I.. hit traffic."
He spoke, almost embarrassed for making you wait.
You took a deep breath, sighing. You were overthinking again. You looked down, feeling guilty. The two of you tried your best to remain professional when in public, but being in a relationship with a well-known prosecutor isn't easy. He cared for you, and you knew it.
Miles glanced around, then spoke lowly.
"(Name)– er– My Love? Is everything.. okay?"
He looked off to the side, hoping you wouldn't notice him stutter. Miles was rather shy, not used to being verbally affectionate. You let out a small smile, amused by his little slip up.
"Sorry, I.. was feeling weird."
...
He cleared his throat, and put a gentle hand on top of yours. He knew you, and what you were dealing with. You leaned against his shoulder, hoping no one would interrupt the moment. Miles lifted his hand and caressed your cheek.
Almost as if it was planned, the door swung open. Startling both you and Miles. Miles quickly backed away and turned his head. You, however, focused on the person entering the office. Naturally, it was Detective Gumshoe, bringing files to Edgeworth.
You and Miles glanced at eachother, knowing this moment would not be forgotten once the two of you are home.
Together.
Tap.. tap..
THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG TO MAKE AND ITS SO BAD ok . Heyyy.!!!
#this took way too long#miles edgeworth#ace attorney#x reader#edgeworth x reader#awkward#gyakuten saiban#miles edgeworth more like miles gayworth#fic#capgrqs#gender neutral reader#gn reader
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guilty, aren't i? (of all my love crimes) | on ao3
grim reaper/casper x reader
Starting today, Grim's about to be tried for the tactics he's pulled on you all throughout the week. With you as the judge, the jury, and the prosecutor, he knows that as both the defense and the defendant, he'll either win or lose this case solely in accordance to what you, a judge who does things all out of love, currently feel for him.
word count: 3547
“I ask the defendant to avoid sleeping in the courtroom of all places,” A sigh is heard from above him. Casper blinks his eyes open, once and twice until he can see clearly and process the voice that is so familiar to him lately, sometimes even haunting him in his sleep. Fully awake after a few more moments, his vision shifts upward, to where the sound came from, and he feels content at first at being right–that it is indeed the person he thinks is talking to him, until the next second comes and he realizes you are far, far away from him. Farther than even the distance of your room from the bed where he clearly recalls his last location, so it wouldn’t and shouldn’t make sense that he is in a literal courtroom.
“Has the defendant finally come to his senses?” Your voice is loud enough for him to hear even at this distance. He so badly wants to question you, and he voices out his concerns right away. You blink at him, your brows starting to form a frown of concern. Do you also not know why he’s here? Then the two of you should be elsewhere–
You tap on something on your desk, your nail pointing at a bulb attached to a hunched stick. Casper looks down at his own desk of sorts to search for his own… whatever you’re pointing at. He finds it on the corner, and taps on it in the same manner as you did and he flinches at the sudden vibration and echo from the loud tapping. Ah, it’s a microphone. Another device he used to see no need for until now, when he has to speak louder to reach you. That explains why he can hear even your sighs of exasperation.
“Why am I here?” Is what he first asks you when you can finally both hear each other. And Casper has to admit, he has so many other questions, but he’s heard that you can’t fire all of them at once while court is in session. Based on your serious demeanor right now, as silly as this empty trial–no jury, no audience, and no lawyers to be seen–sounds, he can at least indulge you especially when it’s possible you dragged him here on your own.
“Please refer to the judge as ‘Your Honor’.” You shift in your seat, leaning down to look at him while your face is still contorted to a frown. “How are you unaware of your own trial…?” You mock, before fixing your expression to the familiar bossy one he’s known(...and loved).
“Starting today, you’ll be tried for all your love crimes!” Your voice booms across the entire court, and even Casper has to admit you make it sound like an actual trial. But then again, as much as you had legitimate… powers against him right now, the script you must be forming sounds so cheesy. “...Love crimes?” He parrots back.
“How many could there be…” He watches you make a pondering pose, crossing your legs and folding your arms. As you look up to pretend counting his ‘crimes’, he immediately interjects your sing-song act. “I don’t want to know.” You eye him while tapping your nail on your desk, until he notices your silence and corrects himself. “...Your Honor.”
You huff. “Well, you have no choice in the matter. Since the judge and the defense and prosecution are ready, the trial will now commence!”
Wait… You were serious? “What do you mean the defense and the prosecution are ready, there’s nobody here but us, Your Honor!”
“You, my dear defendant, are your own defense lawyer.” Explaining like a mother to a child, you smile down on him as you recall the things you’ve taught him a week prior. While this was your silly little ploy, you were still grateful he’d never outright bail out of the room–because with how high up you are on the judge’s bench, it’d be easy for him to escape and outrun you yet he’s stuck by his spot–meaning he trusts his safety(and perhaps literal innocence) in your hands.
That, or your sweet little reaper is actually thinking he’s guilty for the charges you are about to place on him. To be honest, that’s a whole lot funnier than the former possible reason he’s still indulging you, but with how clueless Casper is on human behavior, it might actually be more true.
“I’m my own defense–Then, Your Honor, who’s the prosecution, there’s no one on that side!” He’s even more confused–basing everything off the short lessons in between stories you’d tell him, he recalls you say that there are always two sides to justice: the defense and its opposition, there is no in between, and you’ve taught him that being in the middle of both isn’t as morally good as it sounds. So where, pray tell, is the so-called opponent in this trial?
He thinks he’s found a flaw in your sudden declaration of the trial’s start, but your smile turns smug as you lean more so he could see the shit-eating grin on your face more clearly than he thinks should be.
“I’m glad you asked.” You stand up and curtsy. “I shall be the judge, the jury, and the prosecution, all in one.” Giving him no time to react, you take a seat once again on the bench and pick up the mallet on the side, showing the gavel to Casper to at least help jog his memory of what it is. “And with that, the trial resumes!”
//
“I’m a lawyer, actually.” You type on the chat. “So I know what I’m doing when I say your installment of this server to my laptop is illegal, Grimmy.”
“The joke is on you, then, mortal. I reside in the Underworld; your laws don’t affect me.” ‘Grimmy’ writes back. He refuses to tell you his name, so you had to come up with a nickname. While ‘Steve’ and ‘Nagito Komaeda’ were honestly funny names, neither fit the bill when it came to calling your little reaper. So you decided on ‘Grimmy’ which was short for ‘Grim Reaper’.
“Aw, I would’ve loved to sue you for that. Though I would plead that you wouldn’t be behind bars for it, so you’d owe me something more than just your soul.”
“Behind bars?”
“Yeah, you could go to jail for up to 25 years for hacking. It’s a cybercrime.”
“Another one of your silly jargons?”
You pout. “No, it’s a real word.” With the thought of crimes, though, you recall all that Grim’s done so far that would really land him a scary sentence if he were to reside here in the human world. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you type your findings to him. “You know, it’s not just the hacking. Getting my location and sharing it should make you and your fellow reapers also guilty of doxxing.”
“What in the nine hells is that?”
“It’s what it says on the tin. Sharing someone’s location unsolicited.”
“Okay… Say we didn’t… dox you. How do you think a grim reaper can do their job without… doxxing their target?”
“I dunno, but it’s still a crime over here.” You add an emoji with a poking out tongue. “With human world laws, that makes all of your kind guilty of at least one crime.”
//
“Court is now in session for the trial of a former grim reaper named Casper.”
Casper doesn’t know what to feel about you looking so serious up there in your seat on the judge’s bench. Maybe these jumbled feelings are what criminals feel when they stand before their prosecutors? You’ve called his crimes… love crimes, so maybe you were really just pranking him? You’ve teased him, sure, but the air in the courtroom isn’t giving him the so-called ‘vibe’ that this is a mere joke. You continue talking, unaware of his rooted anxiety.
“As the prosecution, I will now give my opening statement. The defendant, during his time working as a grim reaper, has accumulated a list of offenses to human law. Namely: doxxing, hacking, theft, stalking, and attempted murder.”
Glancing down at him, you call him by his current role: the defendant. “As the defendant is now upon the stand, please state your name and profession to the court.”
You gesture to the empty seats all around you two, but he steels himself and takes your statements so far very seriously it’s almost surprising to you. “My name is Casper, Your Honor. I used to be a grim reaper from the Underworld.” He replies.
“Casper,” The notes on your desk are shuffled from your animated movements, hands traveling across the table from the gavel’s spot to the microphone that you adjust every now and then as you shift in your seat to avoid immediate fatigue. “Is it true that grim reaper’s take information of their target in ways illegal to human world laws?”
Object, and say it’s leading. You think to yourself, pleading that your little reaper would get it right. You told him about this, the types of objections. There were a lot, but you know to be lenient and only use questions that beg relevancy, leading, and hearsay objections. You find this starting question easy enough, but it seems Casper has yet to take on your challenge and immediately ends your first part of interrogation with a–“Yes, it’s true.”
You would have pushed his buttons more by pressing for an address of ‘Your Honor’, but since he was talking to you as a defendant to a prosecuting attorney, you think he gets a pass for now. That, and since he’s blown his chance to refute the claims of doxxing. That’s one crime down for you, at least. “Your honesty is appreciated, as there was supposedly evidence that indeed supports this.”
Your bag is placed beside you, so you take out your laptop and plug the projectors on it. Casper blushes as he spots the familiar software application you open, the chatroom that you used to flirt with him in taking up the entire screen to embarrass him more. You’d taken the precautions of screenshotting the backread moments wherein he admitted to knowing ‘absolutely everything there is to know about you’, and the exact moment of your chat about aspirations.
You’d told him back then that you’d love to sue him for his crimes if he ever was in the human world, but you didn’t think the day would actually come.
//
“Remember when I said that you being the grim reaper is such a scam?”
Your chats have all but ceased once he’d confessed to liking you, now the two of you are ardent lovers separated by screens and worlds apart. “Yes, and I vowed to make you eat those words.”
“That sounds crunchy so I’ll pass, but anyway… I wasn’t lying when I said it. Your existence alone is more than how morally gray you wish it to be because it breaches the point of being illegal.”
“Again with your mortal laws. I am not bound by that.”
“Being with a lawyer means you’ll have to live with me talking about it. I like thinking about things like these.”
“Like getting me ‘behind bars’?”
“ Yeah . Maybe you’d even fear that than the probably-confusing-for-you brick of laws you’ll have to abide by.”
“How so?”
“It’s a… running joke that prison is scarier than a million laws a government can make.”
“I think by your hesitation that would mean it’s better I don’t ask you to elaborate.”
“You’d be correct, yes.”
//
“Moving forward, is it also true that a bouquet you’d recently given someone was actually stolen?”
Put up a fight, please. Don’t make this the easiest sweep case I’ve ever had, satirical or not. You mentally beg, wanting more of this kind of formal setting with him as it also genuinely helps you determine loopholes in interrogations by trying a hand on them yourself. It doesn’t exactly help much though when you’re faced with a man who used to ‘not be able to lie’ and have him on the stand. “Yes, it’s true.”
“The victim has not placed any charges upon you for that. Still…” You gesture to another piece of evidence you had in your bag and present it to the ‘court’. The flowers were safely preserved in a case, but it’s actually because you genuinely wanted to keep them, not for evidence purposes like you made it seem. “It goes under theft which you can be imprisoned for.”
You’re starting to get a headache at how Casper is getting too willing to ‘atone’ for anything he did in the past. “While your honesty thus far is still greatly commendable, it will not reduce your sentence, if that is your end goal.”
“It’s not, Your Honor.” He immediately responds. You huff once again.
“Very well. For the next offense…”
//
“You stole these from an old lady?!”
“I didn’t steal them; would it be stealing if they were hanging from above?”
Casper takes your silence as contemplation over the situation, and you also think it draws a stalemate on legal matters, depending on the area–which, of course, Casper does not tell you. “See? Even in laws, there are gray areas it’s yet to reach.” He smirks at you. “Guess that means I’m ‘scott-free’ from that?”
It takes that response to immediately build back your confidence–or pettiness, neither of you are sure–to retort back a “With your confession just now, it counts as evidence for me to counter you with should you ever try and escape my charges.”
“Like that’ll ever happen, sunshine. You can keep daydreaming, though.”
You sigh. “I’m seriously just coping by looking at you through a fork. It helps me pretend you’re finally imprisoned for your crimes.”
//
“And lastly, attempted murder.” You shuffle the papers together and close your binder of notes at last, finally being able to look at him with no more glancing downward. Even now, Casper has not denied any of your accusations, which gave you a total landslide of a win over the case so far, but it kind of deflated your ego because you expected a proper battle of wits against him. Maybe you really should have walked him through the trial after all? “Is it true that you attempted homicide on the judge presiding over this trial?”
Casper agrees yet again once the words leave your mouth and it makes you think he’s not listening at this point with how quick he answers. “Yes, it’s true.”
“With all the facts in account, then,” There’s no backing out of the trial you’ve placed yourselves in, so with no further(any, for that matter) objections on the client’s part, it’s now finally time for handing the case over to the jury for their due decision. In this case, though… the jury is also you, so… “According to the judgment of the jury, it is clear without any shadow of a doubt that you, Casper…” Both of you hold your breath.
“...Are declared guilty.”
//
“A trial?”
Nodding, you smile at your neighbors whom you’ve only just befriended after revealing you are of the same situation as them–falling in love with a reaper and protecting them as technically a refugee–so you found it to be of no problem letting them into your little scheme. After all, you were bound to come clean to them in regards to your awareness of their relationship.
“I’m an attorney at law,” You explain. “And what better way for my reaper to understand this world’s laws than a first hand experience in court?”
“Are you asking us to be witnesses? We’ve never… listened in on your… encounters with him.” Your neighbor asks.
“No,” Immediately, you interject with a point towards your door across the hallway. “I will need your help bringing him to the courtroom.” Turning back to smile at them innocently, you whip out your phone to send them the directions to the courthouse. “Do not worry, I will be responsible for any charges against you regarding this matter.”
“Do you think he’ll be declared guilty?”
“With his sense of responsibility, I very much think he will be. It is possible he’d agree to every accusation.”
With their missions done and Casper being brought to the courtroom safely, they suppose they’re no longer needed but your neighbor is worried about leaving the two of you to your own devices in such a public setting. While they worry over your–and more importantly, your reaper who is equally as missing in action as their own reaper from the Underworld–safety, they also worry about the possibility of now being risked of their own.
But judging by how you’re so confident that you’ll have the entirety of the room to yourself, they suppose you indeed have everything under cover and tug their reaper home, wishing you and your reaper the best, as well as silently cheering for your story just as much as you were cheering for theirs.
//
“As against Casper the grim reaper, I, the jury, award compensatory damages in the amount of…”
Casper fidgets in his seat. None of this is in the short lessons you’ve given him, but with the way you’re speaking, perhaps this is the part where he finally pays you what he is due, so he waits for your judgment to fall upon him like– “...his soul, as part of procreation of soul babies.”
Soul babies. That’s easy, at least it wasn’t mortal currency– Wait. Hadn’t he heard that before?
Soul babies– You’re still talking about that?!
He jumps from his spot to stand and point at you accusingly. “This–was this just a ploy to legally bind me to have those silly soul babies with you?!”
Your mouth parts and you stare at him. “Did you… actually take this trial seriously?” At his silence and widened eyes, you are now as equally shocked as him–your intuition was right? Gods above, this ridiculous man really said nothing the entire time because he deemed the comically empty courtroom to be genuine? “Still, now that you’ve let me ramble on during the entire trial, you might as well own up to the verdict handed to you.”
You stick your tongue out to tease him when he whines at your insistence. “After all, I am the judge and the jury in this case.” With that, you pick up the gavel one last time and pound on the surface with an air of finality. “Court is dismissed!”
With that dismissal, it signals your freedom from the overbearing seat by the judge’s bench and skip over to your man, who is still upset that you’ve pulled such a grandiose prank on him like this. But you have no time to tease him further, because his curiosity now bombards him like the bricks falling.
“Can a verdict really demand soul babies from defendants?” You blink in bewilderment that this is his first question out of the many understandable ones you’ve mentally prepared yourself with, but refuse to let him notice your moment of shock.
“No, that’s a verdict made specially for you.” You wink. Casper frowns, but relents. This day alone was already tiring enough, he might as well let all your teasing slide for today. It’s not as if he’s not yet completely embarrassed anyway. He fires his next question, curious still. “How did I get here?”
“Teleportation.” He refuses to believe your joke. Humans are rarely capable of magic, and you weren’t even aware of your abilities before he was, so he doubts you have the skill you claim as teleportation.
“You mean transportation?” He presses, this time making you pout.
“Yeah, I had our reaper-human neighbor couple next door help carry you over here. I figured our reaper neighbor knew how to keep you asleep while being carried, so I let him join our party roster.”
“You and the interesting vocabulary I keep learning about..” He sighs. “And you had to trouble other people, as well. Your trickery knows no bounds.”
“At least my trickery is still borderline legal. I haven’t eavesdropped on them while recording–which, by state laws, is what makes eavesdropping illegal.”
“Then, like how morally gray grim reapers are, you mortals also have loopholes in your rules.”
“Maybe, but that’s why you’re lucky to have me,” You smile before wrapping your arms around him. He doesn’t shy away. “You have someone who knows their way around the world.”
Your gaze cast upon him, eyes twinkling with sparks of light. He is still correct in that aspect that 'sunshine' suits you, because with your happy expression, he knows instantly that you are just as guilty as him in the grand scheme of life.
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18+ He’s The Next One: 4 - F!Reader X L Lawliet
No gendered language is used (Probably). The reader is described as wearing a panties and a skirt.
Wordcount: 5.4k
Contains: Second person POV, NSFT, BDSM vibes, Frottage, Power Imbalance, Vaginal Penetration, Vaginal Fingering, The reader is a serial killer, Dirty Talk, attempted murder (barely), Sub Space, Kink Not Negotiated.
Your situationship with L is built on a solid foundation of two key things; Mistrust, and stalking. So when L leaves to go outside of his own volition of course you follow him. The old-timey, absurdly expensive car he’s driven around in makes it beyond easy to do so, even on foot. All you have to do is ask literally any passerby if they've seen an old rich person car and you get pointed in the right direction.
This method leads you all the way to To-Oh University.
To-Oh is impressive enough, you suppose. It's Known for its output of lawyers and government employees as well as its high bar to be accepted, but you just don’t see what could be in it for L.
You doubt any student, or professor for that matter, could hold the frogs picky attention so what reason could he possibly have to be here?
The only thing L cares about is catching Kira, and Kira is Light Yagami so…
Looking around at the well dressed flock of teenagers filtering in through the front of the building you rapidly sort through and mentally discard anybody with irrelevant traits; Height, build, gender, hair color-
“The entrance exam is starting in ten minutes, so you’d better hurry up!”
He’s probably already inside-
“It’s fine. I planned to get here three minutes before the test. I hate waiting. I’m here too early.”
It’s going to feel so fucking good watching the light, heh, leave his eyes.
Top button comes undone. Skirt is rolled up a notch. You fall in step with him, a calculated, admiring smile gracing your features, “You don’t like to waste time either, huh?”
If elevator eyes were enough to make your hit list you’d be dragging Kira off the path this very moment to turn this animal into goddamn meat...
But then L would have the book thrown at you, and you can be patient.
Theoretically.
You haven’t tried before but other people do it all the time so it’s probably easy.
“There was less foot traffic than I anticipated.” Kira's eyes flick past you and up and you follow his gaze, seeing nothing but feeling your skin prickle with tension for a reason you can't discern.
Unconsciously you take a step closer to Kira, and want to stomp his foot when he smirks. Instead you give him a close lipped smile, cheeky, and nudge his arm with an elbow. “So, what are you going to study, Mr. Impatient?”
“Criminal Law. My father is the Chief of the NPA,” Name-dropping son of a self-righteous old bast-, “I suppose stopping criminals is a legacy for me.” He smiles at you in a way you know is supposed to be disarming, his voice sounding sheepish in a way that’s so fake you have to bring a hand up to your mouth to cover a scowl.
Forcing a giggle you play off the gesture as shyness, “Wow… I knew a lot of important people come from To-Oh but I didn’t realize I’d be meeting any so soon.” You look up at him from under your lashes, a practiced move that’s melted many predators before him and undoubtedly will do the same for many after, “Maybe we’ll be in the same class. It’d be nice to have a friend right off the bat, don’t you think?”
The incredulity in Kira’s expression is almost- Scratch that, is extremely insulting as he asks you, a hint of humor in his voice, “You’re here for the criminal law program?”
If I were a self obsessed man child with a god complex that’s gotten murderous what would I want to hear?
“Sure am!” You make sure your big fake smile reaches your voice, pretending not to notice his condescending tone, “I’m going to become a prosecutor and work my way up to a position as a judge. I’m going to become someone who actually sees to it that criminals get what they deserve. I-” You let out a squeak and wave your hands frantically, adopting an embarrassed affectation as you rapidly speak, “I didn’t mean to ramble! Please forget I said that…”
“Forget it? Why?”
“Well… A lot of people think it’s a bit excessive… Y’know, wanting to see people punished?” You make a point to wilt like the helpless flower he’s labeling you as in his itty bitty mind.
“Well I think it’s admirable.” No shit. “You've seen a problem with society and you’re actually doing something to better not only yourself but the whole world. Or- The whole of Japan I should say.” He rubs the back of his neck at what he likely sees as a minor slip.
And what you see as the blatant projection you were fishing for.
“Exactly!” You need to seem flustered. L’s wide eyes as he leans back and pants out ragged breaths, cum cooling on his skin- That’ll do it. “Maybe we have more in common than our dislike of waiting?”
Kirasmiles, and the calculating way it comes across makes you feel a little nauseated, “It would seem so.”
You’re already at the room the exam is going to take place in and to seal your progress on this target you bump the back of your hand against his, quickly linking his pinky with your own, “I’ll see you at the opening ceremony, Mr. Impatient.” Before all but fluttering away, taking a seat near the back, off to the side.
The security here is kinda shit, you not. You didn’t even have to actually sign up.
The seat you chose is perfect for your needs. You can see L, seeing Kira.
Papers are passed around and the proctor calls for the applicants to start, and with that permission you begin to doodle absentmindedly, filling the page with eyeballs and hands and random objects you can see around the room. It’s around the same time that Kira turns around that you recognize something in the back of L’s posture and lean to the side to see-
L, if you don’t get your nasty ass goddamn grippers off the fucking desk-
Your expression twists in disgust as you stare in open mouthed horror before making eye contact with Kira.
You point at the backs of L’s head and mouth, “Life sentence.”
Kira whips back around to face the front of the classroom so fast you’re surprised you can’t hear his neck crack.
—
You leave before the exam is called, not wanting to confront, or more accurately be confronted by, L in public. Slowing to a stop you look into a store window…
—-
For the betterment of humanity you buy a pack of mens socks.
—
It’s agony waiting for the entrance ceremony, languishing on a plush couch and being brought an endless parade of sweets by an attentive butler, all the while counting down the days until you’ll be close to your target again. But you persevere, your patience staggering, a testament to your unparalleled maturity and poise.
You ball up the paper remnants of a sugar packet and try to toss it into Yagami-san’s tea from across the room.
It plonks off the back of his head and he turns around, shouting, “Will you stop that?!”
“I’ll run out of wrappers eventually if that’s what you’re asking.”
L clears his throat to hide a laugh.
—
“Would you care to join me, M.” You pout, he knows your name but has refused to say it since giving you the moniker, ‘for your safety.’
Jerk.
“Join you?”
“Watari will be driving me to To-Oh university’s entrance ceremony. If you wish to arrive on time it may behoove you to arrive in the car, rather than behind it.”
“... You’re no fun.”
Watari opens the back door for you.
—
You make a point to have Watari drop you off two blocks away from To-Oh, not wanting to be seen arriving with L, and thank the man profusely. This time you don’t sit far in the back, you sit exactly one seat behind L and wait patiently. You're unsurprised when Kira takes the seat next to him, front and center like the Special Boy he is.
You don’t actually pay any attention to the ceremony, utterly indifferent until Kira and someone called Ryuga are called to the stage to give a speech, and Kira and L stand up.
Your frog is a fucking moron, too stupid to know when to play dumb. If he doesn’t do this right he’ll end up on Kira’s radar.
Without thinking about it you start biting your thumbnail, repeatedly nibbling at the very end.
The speech is as blandly inspirational as any other, although you can’t help but want to laugh at both the way L holds his notes and the tone he reads them with. If he weren’t intentionally putting himself in so much danger you’d be ecstatic, laughing your arse off at the show he’s putting on.
But he’s standing next to Kira who’s looking at him like something sticky attached to the bottom of his shoe, like he's subtle, so you bite your nail harder instead.
When the two of them are coming back to their seats you can see L talking to the back of Kira’s head and you want to pick up their vacated folding chairs and throw them.
You bite through the nail. And since you can’t very well spit in public, you swallow. Ew.
Exit strategies, character analysis, mental manipulations, and desperate acts of violence all flit through your mind as you try to think of a way to undo whatever damage L is undoubtedly doing all without knowing the details and you hate this frog, you hate this frog, you hate this frog-
“I want to tell you, I’m L.”
God damn it!
The pause that follows is tense and you hold your breath as you wait to hear what happens next.
“If you are who you say you are, then you have nothing but my respect and admiration.”
Snort.
The sound makes both Kira and L turn around and you quickly pull your phone out, looking at the screen and pretending to have read a text.
L waggles his fingers at you in greeting before continuing his conversation with Kira, as if he’d never been interrupted.
You tune them out, already knowing what needs to be done, everything else is just fat to be trimmed.
You need to kill Kira before he can kill L.
Only you get to kill L.
—
You make a point to stay out of sight when L leaves with Watari, waiting for them to round the corner before you half jog to catch up with Kira.
“Hey! Yagami-kun!” The grin you direct his way is stunning, you know because you’ve practiced it enough times in the mirror, and you hug his arm when you reach him, “I knew for sure you’d get in but I didn’t realize you were, like, an actual genius!”
Kira smiles, brown eyes looking blood red to you as you give his arm a light squeeze before letting go, skin crawling. “I’m glad you had so much confidence in me. Although, I can’t accept being called a genius when I only tied for first place.”
You huff and scrunch up your nose a bit, “I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’ve got more emotional and social intelligence than the weird guy and add it on top. You’re definitely better.” Looking side to side, you make a show of checking that no one is watching before leaning in close to his ear and whispering, “Did you see him put his toes on the desk?”
Kira laughs. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“So, which way are you headed?” You’re at the gates now, intentionally standing slightly too close to the murderous ego maniac.
He points a thumb over his shoulder to the left, “I’m taking the train that way to head home.”
“Me too!" A lie. "Well actually it’s my bus route, but it’s in the same direction. Wanna walk together for a bit?”
“That works for me.”
—
You keep up a string of conversation with the mass murderer, bubbly and babbling as you follow him towards the train station. There’s a bus station next to a cafe about three blocks from the metro, and you know from experience that particular cafe has metal cutlery. So convenient for you, especially since your bags are checked any time you enter or leave HQ.
When you reach the bus station you smile at Kira and tug his sleeve to get him to stop with you, “This is me. Thanks for walking with me.” He smiles back and pats your hand.
“We could make a habit of it, since we’ll be classmates.”
“That sounds great! I’m looking forward to it.” L panting a broken moan into your shoulder as he angles his hips to get just a little deeper- there’s the blush. “I’ll see you in class?”
“Definitely.” He smiles one last time in that way you know he intends to be charming before turning to leave.
The moment Kira rounds the corner you set a brisk pace back the way you came from, passing close by the outdoor dining of the cafe and swiping a cloth napkin from one table and use it to grab a knife from the next. It really is a nice cafe.
You turn to the alley between buildings and make your way through, parallel to the route you know Kira will need to take to reach the station. However as soon as you make it out of the mouth of the alley on the other side and turn to intercept Kira a hand covers your mouth and you are dragged back into it, shoved against the nearest wall, stucco unfortunately, leaving scratches on your cheek.
A second hand grabs your wrist where you’re already maneuvering your knife to stab him and pinches at it oddly, causing your hand to spasm and the cutlery to drop. You thrash against the grip and growl, biting hard into the flesh this scum had the nerve to put so close to your teeth and-
“I’m glad you had the foresight to put something between you and the would-be murder weapon.”
Oh for the love of-
You reach up and tap the back of his hand two times, and L lets go.
“L. What. The. Fuck?”
“I could ask you the same thing... Save for the L. And I’d likely use more robust vocabulary-“
“Save it frog.” You twist your neck so you can look at him, and he blinks in shock. “I wouldn’t be doing this on such short notice if you hadn’t told Kira who you are to his goddamn face.”
“I have taken all the necessary precautions before making contact, and you shouldn't be doing this,” he kicks the knife further down the alley, “At all.”
He… He actually sounds angry.
The pout you can feel forcing its way onto your face as your lip threatens to jut out is humiliating.
“You’re in danger.” It isn’t supposed to come out as whiny as it sounds.
“Yes.”
Don’t cry.
Don’t cry.
Don’t you fucking-
Long, thin fingers come up and swipe gently beneath your eyes, one at a time, feeling wetness there.
“You are upset by the thought of me dying.” There’s a hint of something to his words, whether it’s the tone or inflection you can’t decide, that makes you think of one word. One word spoken softly while you knelt at his feet-
“Kira doesn’t get to have you.” The words are bitten out, the growl of anger, of possessiveness, undercut by the watery waver to your voice.
You hadn’t realized he was still holding your wrist until he tightens his grip, squeezing down until it aches.
“Nor will he have you.”
The ‘you’re mine’ is unspoken, on both your parts.
You can hear the dull hum of an engine and tires on pavement and turn to see Watari pulling the car up. When L leads you by your wrist into the back of it, grip turning gentle, you don’t protest.
“Headquarters, Watari.” Is all L says before pressing a button that rolls up the car's divider. He buckles you in like some kind of child but doesn’t bother doing the same for himself like… Some other kind of child.
The silence between you is thick, highlighted by every creak of the leather seats as you shift uncomfortably look out the dark tint of the windows at each street you pass, pretending you can’t see L’s reflection just as clearly as the people and buildings outside. But you can, and you focus on it, tracing his features, expressionless to most, and finding very little to read into. It’s upsetting. You’re normally much better at this, and it strikes you that you may very well only be able to read him the way you do because he lets you. Something achy in your chest twists at the thought.
“I had thought the terms of our agreement were clear, but it seems I may have left out a crucial detail.”
His eyes lock on yours in the reflection and it makes you feel embarrassed to think about how obvious you are to him, especially contrasted with how opaque he is to you.
“Until my heart stops beating, you will not under any circumstances take another life.”
“I hate you.”
His mouth falls open and with it his expression. Shock?
“… Truly?”
You’ve never heard him sound small before.
Fuck.
The click of your seat belt buckle breaks the silence as you quickly shift your way over to him, shoving at his knees until there's enough space for you to seat yourself in his lap, which you do. “No.”
The honesty is uncomfortable for you and you suspect it’s equally as uncomfortable for him so you add on, “And you should be able to tell that since you’re such a master detective.” Mockery. Familiar territory.
He braces his feet against the back of Watari’s seat and slouches further, bringing his knees back up to support you more and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close until your face is pressed into his neck.
“I do not hate you either.” He speaks it into your hair, and you feel a kiss pressed against the side of your head, so you respond with a kiss of your own on the only spot you can reach. His neck.
L shudders beneath you, then lets out a shaky breath, arms tightening their hold like he thinks you have somewhere else to be before ducking to murmur against your ear, “The divider is not nearly as soundproof as I would prefer so I will have to whisper, but I wish to make my intentions entirely clear...”
You nod against his neck to indicate that you heard him and try to turn to kiss his jaw but he reaches up with one of his hands and grabs your hair in a tight grip, holding you still.
“When we return to head quarters, I am going to fuck you.”
The breath you take in through your nose in your surprise is louder than the words he spoke. There’s a heat in your cheeks that you can feel spreading down your chest and lower as you inhale shakily, before taking a calculated risk and rolling your hips against his as you murmur, “How?”
His hand briefly tightens in your hair and you can feel your pussy getting wet, “How am I going to fuck you?”
You nod, and he exhales slowly, you inhaling in time with him, your chests moving together.
“I think I would like to fuck you like this,” the hard press of his interested cock is made obvious as his hips roll up against yours, denim jeans against cotton panties and you bite your lip to stifle any verbal reaction, “You will be on top but I will be holding you still. I’ll take my time I think, maybe have you ride my thigh first so I can observe the pace you’d like me to set.”
You’re hips are rocking back in forth in small little ruts now, panties clinging to your needy cunt with your body's reaction to his voice and the press of his cock, “Please-“
“Of course I won’t fuck you how you’d like me to.”
Pardon?
“You’ve been bad,” Holy fucking shit.
L’s hand tightens in your hair as he pulls your head back to meet your eyes, his own heavily lidded as he murmurs, his lips nearly brushing your own. “I’m going to fuck you slowly. I’m going to teach you patience.”
“You’re a sadist.” You speak solely to feel your lips brushing against his.
“I’ve been called worse things. Less accurate things as well.”
The car rolls to a very sudden stop and if it weren’t for L’s arms around you and his legs behind you, you would have fallen in between the front and back seats, folded in half like a humiliated napkin.
When Watari opens the door for L, you’re back in your own seat, resenting L’s composure as you shake like a leaf, wondering how visibly fucked out you look for someone who hasn’t even been properly touched yet. You’d read Watari’s expression to find out if you could bring yourself to meet the man's eyes. He holds out a hand to help you out of the car and you thank him quietly before trailing behind L like some kind of stray cat he’s fed.
The elevator ride is excruciatingly long to you, even though it can’t have been more than thirty seconds and as soon as you make it into the hotel room the task force calls headquarters you and L head directly for the door to the bedroom, not acknowledging the presence of the others. You try very hard not to think about how embarrassing it’s going to be to face them later.
L places his hand on your lower back as he walks beside you, pressing you forwards until you’re in the room, looking at meticulously made sheets, and you know that this is going to be the first time since L stationed himself here that he lies in that bed, the sheets likely immaculate not due to Watari or one of the hotel’s cleaning staff coming in and making the bed, but entirely because of disuse.
You can hear him kick the door shut behind you and the hand on your back slides down past your skirt, to bare thighs, fingers dragging upwards, rucking up the fabric until he reaches the top of your panties and presses beneath, hand grabbing and pulling at soft flesh before making his way down once more, fingers cupping you as they glide forwards between your legs to press into your wet cunt.
The pressure you feel as he fills you, starts to roll his wrist against your backside, as he repeatedly rocks his slender hand against you. Starting with two fingers stings a little, but it’s a good sort of sting so you lets your hips rock back against him, trying to pull him in further, the sound of your wetness around his fingers loud in the quiet of the room.
His free arm wraps around you and pulls you in close to him, standing at the entrance of the room and holding you like he needs a hug all while fucking his fingers into your cunt, drawing vulgar sounds from between your legs and between your teeth. When his lips press against your ears your cunt clenches down around him, warm and hot and he's gotten you so fucking wet even before he starts to speak again.
And then he does. “If I could keep you like this I would. If Kira would simply spontaneously drop dead and save us the luxury of having to catch him I would steal you away with me back home. I would keep you as the most satisfying reward I have ever received for solving a case.” L’s lips trail down your neck and you let out a sound that's painfully close to a sob as he draws his fingers from your cunt and from your panties before walking you forwards towards the bed, turning when he reaches it and sitting you in his lap, facing the closed door.
One of his thighs is pressed between your own and his arms settle around your shoulders in a lazy hug as he nuzzles his nose against the side of your cheek, “We can get started once you've cum." He speaks in such a matter of fact way, keeping his voice light and unbothered, even though you’d already felt the hard press of his cock behind you.
You want to be a brat about it, to talk back and throw a fit, to deny him the satisfaction of taking the lead and to ride him till he’s shooting blanks and begging you to give him a break.
Or more accurately, you want to want that.
The press of his denim clad thigh against your needy aching clit, through your drenched panties, slick with cum, makes your head feel floaty, and you move with the feeling, leaning forwards and bracing both hands above his knee before your start to slowly roll your hips back and forwards, humping yourself against him and letting out little breathy noises from between parted lips.
One of L’s thumbs starts to brush gently back and forth against your shoulder and this time you do let out a sob, the sound turning into a whine as L presses the ball of his foot down on the floor, slowly rocking his leg up against your pussy.
His lips brush against the side of his neck as he murmurs, “You’re doing so well. Doing so well for me.” His breath is coming out heavier against your neck and if you could focus on anything other than the slow pulsing of warmth and pressure and pleasure against your cunt you’d feel pride in that fact, but all you can do is what you’re told.
So you ride his thigh, shuddering out a gasp as one of your hands trails down his towards yourself, fingertips tracing against the wet spot forming on his jeans. Your mouth hangs open wider as you let out a soft moan in between pants for breath that don't seem to do anything at all.
That’s all me.
“Does it feel nice?” There’s a hum in L’s voice, he sounds curious as he leans forwards, hooking his chin over your shoulder to look down at where you’re getting yourself off against him and you nod. You can feel his smile against your neck “I’m glad.”
You stay like that for a while, L holding you softly, and you grinding slowly against him, your hips slowly picking up pace until the heat inside of you builds, and builds, and builds, and-
You cum.
“Very good.” His voice sounds far away to you, far away from where you’re floating and you let out another sob, hands reaching up desperately to cling to his arms.
Why is he so far away?
The sound is muddled and murmured and it takes you a while to drift back into the hotel room, into yourself, into L’s arms and when you do you find yourself lying on his chest further up the bed, still straddling him, but now faced towards him instead of away.
“There you are.” He’s back. Or maybe you are?
When his hand comes up to brush away tears you hadn’t noticed on your cheeks you lean into the touch, turning slightly to press a kiss against the palm of his hand, and taste salt.
“Would you like to stop now? That looked like it was a lot for you.”
Immediately, you open your mouth to say yes but the word doesn’t come out. Why not?
You’re still a little floaty as you try to figure out what you’re feeling, to find the words to articulate and pinpoint what exactly you want and it takes a few moments, L waiting patiently all the while.
“No. Want you.”
L nods at that, a small smile replacing a look you realize was one of concern, and the hand on your cheek trails down until he can reach your shirt, stripping you of it quickly. Your skirt is next, and then your undergarments, and you expect him to stare at your body, more exposed to his gaze than it's ever been before, but it’s your face he looks at. He studies.
“If this becomes too much for you, if you start to go away again, promise you will tell me.”
You look at him beneath you, you’re still shaking a little, fully undressed, and he’s fully clothed. The only sign of what you’d been doing so far is the surprisingly large wet patch you’d left on his jeans.
“Promise.” You respond. Reaching out and grabbing one of his hands to lock a pinky with yours.
When you start to let go of his hand he snatches it back, intertwining your pinkies once more and holding them together like that, his free hand coming up to your face, drawing you in far enough that he can kiss you.
Earl Grey with too much sugar, chocolate and whipped cream, strawberries. He tastes like dessert and you sigh with contentment as his lips press against your own. They’re thin and a little dry but the soft press of them against yours warms your bare skin against the chill of the room and you bring your own free hand to his chest, only to inhale sharply in surprise at what you feel.
His heart is racing. Somehow it's never occurred to you that was something that could happen to him.
You press more heavily into the kiss, lips parting as you lick against his own, and let out a pleased him as his tongue meets yours. The kiss stays soft for a while but inevitably grows more heated.
Dragging your hand down his stomach you reach the button of his jeans and stop, only continuing when you feel his pinky squeezing your own, then flick the button open and drag the zipper down.
His cock feels good in your hand, soft skin slick with pre-cum and warm to the touch, but it feels even better when you raise your hips up far enough that you can position the head of his cock against your entrance and then slowly push down against him, sinking into the full feeling of his cock pressing into you, until you’re once again sat in his lap.
The only sounds in the room are the quiet creaking of the bed frame and the slow wet glide of your cunt around him as you roll your hips down against him and he rocks his hips up into you, and the smack of your lips parting as you catch your breath before coming back together again, tongues teasing each others mouths.
You aren’t sure how long the two of you stay like this, moving and breathing with each other, but it’s as slow as he said it would be.
You wouldn’t call what the two of you are doing fucking, though.
You don’t have the courage to call it what it is.
When L cums, he says your name. Not M. Not any other alias you’d used before. He says your name. Whispers it into your mouth and you breathe the word in from his. Tears fall from your eyes at the intensity of it all and you cum with him, pussy wrapped around his cock in a wet plush press, like a kiss.
You feel sticky with the way you cling to L, all tears and sweat and spit, as you tremble in his arms, cunt continuing to twitch around his softening cock as the last of your orgasm washes over you and fades away. L holds you through the whole thing, his own arms shaking and his breath as quick as yours as he comes down alongside you and it’s quiet for a while.
It takes a few long moments for you to fully come back to yourself, noticing an orange glow starting to filter through the sheer curtains of the hotel's bedroom windows and realizing that the sun must be setting.
L looks more alive like this, the warmth of the light of golden hour bringing a healthy glow to his otherwise corpse-like pallor and you find yourself just staring at him, taking the sight in as his breathing evens out to a healthier pace, dark eyes fluttering open to land on yours, gazing back.
Under his attention you expect to feel studied like an insect, or dissected like a frog, but all you feel now is all you felt when…
‘Hagoromo.’
Before you can really think the words through You hear yourself, in a voice soft enough to fit the silence the two of you soak in, “Until your heart no longer beats?”
“Yes.”
And it’s clear to you why you’re here. What your purpose is.
You’re here so that even if L loses, Kira doesn’t get to win.
“Okay.”
L and you never once let go of each other's pinkies.
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The Hills Ch. 26
pairings: ran haitani x (wife) female reader
wordcount: 4.2k
warnings: shower sex, accusations of betraying bonten, reader is kind of being annoying.
a/n: i loove stories with a whole lot of drama, kidnapping, muder, actionnnn. I'm bringing this story back because there was such a bunch of nutty stuff happening and I feel like the way I ended it wasn't really giving me any closure, so off we go again! you can also read this story on AO3.
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The following day was a blur of routine, like walking through quicksand. You forced yourself out of bed, trying to shake off the memories of Rin's words from the night before. Breakfast with Kai felt like a chore, and rushing her off to daycare was a relief.
At the office, you went through the motions, plastering on a fake smile for your clients while your mind screamed in agony. When the last client cancelled their appointment, it wasn't even noon yet. During a short lunch break, you mindlessly scrolled through social media and news articles, desperately searching for any mention of Ran or Bonten.
And then you froze. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you read the headline: "Ran Haitani suspected Bonten member identified in ATF investigation." Panic set in, your hands shaking as you clicked on the article and scanned every word, hoping it wasn't true. But deep down, you knew this was just the beginning of a nightmare that would consume your life.
As you read the text, a mix of anger and fear bubbled up inside you. You slammed your hands on the desk, cursing under your breath. Ran's bond hearing was today at 1 PM, and you couldn't shake off the worry that he wouldn't be released.
The thought of going to the courthouse filled you with dread and hope at the same time. On one hand, maybe you could finally find out what he was being charged with. On the other hand, facing those charges could potentially destroy any hope of a future together. Yet, not knowing was driving you crazy.
Your hands shook as you dialed Yoko's number.
"I need to take the afternoon off," you said, your voice tight. "Family emergency."
"Of course," Yoko replied, concern evident in her tone. "Is everything alright?"
You swallowed hard. "I hope so," you managed before hanging up.
The drive to the courthouse was a blur. You parked haphazardly, barely remembering to lock the car as you rushed inside. The halls were bustling with activity, but you barely noticed as you searched for the right courtroom.
You slipped inside just as the proceedings were beginning. Your eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Ran. He sat at the defendant's table, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert. When he caught sight of you, a flicker of surprise crossed his face before he schooled his features back into a neutral expression.
The judge called the court to order, her stern gaze sweeping the room. You slid into a seat in the back, heart pounding. Ran's lawyer, a sharp-looking woman in a crisp suit, stood to address the court.
"Your Honor, my client, Mr. Haitani, is a respected businessman with deep ties to the community. He has no prior criminal record and poses no flight risk. We request that he be released on his own recognizance."
The prosecutor, a balding man with a permanent scowl, rose to object.
"Your Honor, the charges against Mr. Haitani are extremely serious. The government has evidence linking him to large-scale weapons trafficking. We believe he poses a significant danger to the community and request that bail be denied."
Your breath caught in your throat. Weapons trafficking? The room seemed to spin around you as you struggled to process this information.
The judge's gavel echoed through the courtroom, silencing the murmurs that had broken out.
"I've reviewed the evidence presented by both sides," she said, her voice stern. "While the charges are indeed serious, Mr. Haitani has significant ties to the community and no prior criminal record. Bail is set at five million dollars."
A wave of relief washed over you, followed quickly by anxiety. Five million was a staggering amount, but you knew Ran could manage it. The question was, what would happen next?
As the proceedings wrapped up, you locked eyes with Ran across the courtroom. His expression was unreadable, but you caught a flicker of something in his gaze - concern, perhaps? Or determination?
You rose to leave, your legs unsteady beneath you. As you stumbled out of the courtroom, your mind reeling, a firm hand gripped your elbow. You looked up to see Mikey, one of Ran's most trusted associates, his face a mask of barely contained fury.
"We need to talk," he growled, steering you towards a secluded alcove. The scent of his cologne, spicy and aggressive, filled your nostrils as he leaned in close. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
You blinked, confusion momentarily overriding your anxiety.
"What are you talking about?"
Mikey's eyes narrowed, his grip on your arm tightening painfully. "Don't play dumb with me. We know you've been talking to the feds."
Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest as it pounded relentlessly, the sound almost deafening in your ears. With each beat, you could feel the fear and desperation growing within you.
"That's ridiculous," you hissed through gritted teeth, trying to pry your arm free from his iron grip but failing miserably.
Mikey's suspicious gaze burned into you, causing a deep sense of dread to settle in the pit of your stomach. You continued to plead your innocence, tears threatening to spill from your burning eyes.
"The ATF showed up yesterday to question me. It was the first time I had any contact with them and Ran knew they were coming," you stammered, knowing the consequences of crossing Bonten's circle and talking to authorities. The image of Ivy, beaten and broken, flashed before your eyes.
You couldn't afford to make any mistakes now. Your life depended on convincing Mikey of the truth.
Mikey’s eyes narrowed as he studied your face, searching for any sign of deception. After a tense moment, his grip on your arm loosened slightly.
“Alright,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. Mikey turned, glancing over his shoulder with a sharp gaze locked on a tall man with sleek blonde hair standing nearby. His presence seemed to radiate power and authority, causing the crowd of people exiting the court house to part around him like water around a stone. “Draken, get Mrs. Haitani back home safe, will you?”
You knew who Draken was, but had never had a prolonged conversation with him. As he approached you now, you tried to gather your bearings, feeling slightly intimidated by his imposing stature and piercing blue eyes.
“You alright?” He asked, his voice laced with sincerity as he took in your disheveled appearance.
You only nodded, quickly wiping at the corners of your eyes to ensure your mascara didn’t smear.
“I’m fine, I’ll be a lot better when Ran is home,” you admitted softly.
Draken nodded understandingly, running a hand through his perfectly styled blonde locks.
“I’ll follow you to pick up the kid and then escort you home,” he said firmly. “You probably need to take a few days off work until we sort this shit out, but other than that Ran should be home before the end of the night.”
Feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his words, you nodded once more and turned to head back towards the parking garage with Draken close behind. The sound of bustling city streets surrounded you as you walked, but all you could focus on was getting home safely.
The drive home was tense, with Draken following close behind your car. You tried to focus on the road, but your mind kept drifting back to the courthouse, to Ran's impassive face as the judge set bail.
At the daycare, you plastered on a smile for Kai, who squealed with delight at the sight of you. As you buckled her into her car seat, you caught sight of Draken waiting patiently by his sleek black car, his eyes constantly scanning the area.
Once home, you busied yourself with Kai, grateful for the distraction. Draken took up position outside, a silent sentinel. As evening fell, you put Kai to bed, your heart aching as she asked for her daddy.
"Soon, baby," you murmured, kissing her forehead. "Daddy will be home soon."
Downstairs, you poured yourself a glass of wine, trying to steady your nerves. The house felt too quiet, too empty without Ran's presence. You found yourself pacing, checking your phone obsessively for any news.
Just as you were considering calling Rin for an update, you heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Your heart leapt into your throat as you rushed to the window, peering out through the curtains.
Relief flooded through you as you saw Ran step out of a sleek black car, looking tired but unharmed. You yanked open the front door, barely remembering to disable the security system in your haste.
Ran's eyes met yours as he walked up the path, his expression softening.
"Y/n," he murmured, pulling you into a tight embrace as soon as he crossed the threshold.
You clung to him, inhaling his familiar scent as tears pricked at your eyes.
"Ran," you breathed, your voice muffled against his chest. "I was so worried."
He pulled back slightly, his hands coming up to cup your face. His amethyst eyes searched yours, a mix of emotions swirling in their depths.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I never meant for you to get caught up in this."
You shook your head, pulling him further into the house and closing the door behind you.
"What happened? The charges they're talking about... weapons trafficking? Ran, tell me it isn't true."
Ran sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. In the soft light of the entryway, you could see the exhaustion etched on his face, the subtle lines of worry around his eyes.
"It's... complicated," he said finally.
You could tell he didn’t want to go into details right at this moment.
Ran removed his suit jacket and hung it over the arm of the sectional before pulling you into his lap. He nosed at the crook in your throat softly inhaling the scent of your perfume.
“The little bean asleep?” Ran asked.
You nodded a faint gasp escaping your lips as he placed a chaste kiss along your pulse.
“She’s been down for a bit” you replied.
Ran's warm, calloused hands gently rested at your hips as he guided you up the staircase. His firm grip instilled a sense of trust and excitement in you. Finally reaching the bedroom, he turned to face you and slipped his hand into yours, pulling you closer.
In the spacious bathroom, Ran quickly shed his suit, revealing a toned and tanned physique. The ambient lighting cast shadows across his defined muscles as he walked towards the shower. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the faucet and steam began to fill the room.
You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you watched him step under the hot water, droplets cascading over his body. As he beckoned for you to join him, you eagerly stepped into the warmth of the shower, knowing this would be a night to remember.
As you stepped into the steamy shower, Ran pulled you close, his hands sliding along your slick skin. The hot water cascaded over you both as he captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You melted into his embrace, all the fear and tension of the past days dissolving under his touch.
Ran's lips trailed down your neck, eliciting a soft gasp from you. His hands roamed your body, reacquainting himself with every curve and plane. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.
"I missed you," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire.
You tangled your fingers in his wet hair, pulling him back up for another searing kiss.
"Show me," you breathed.
Ran pressed you firmly against the cool tile, his strong hands gripping your thighs as he held you up. The contrast of the chilly wall at your back and his hot skin against your front sent shivers down your spine.
His lips found yours again in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep as he ground his hips against you. You could feel how hard he was already, his arousal evident as it rubbed against your core.
"Ran," you gasped, breaking the kiss to throw your head back. He took the opportunity to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat.
"Tell me what you want," he murmured against your skin, nipping lightly at your collarbone.
"You," you breathed. "I want you. Please."
With a low growl, Ran shifted his hips and slowly pushed inside you. You both groaned at the exquisite sensation as he filled you completely. For a moment, he stilled, allowing you to adjust to his size.
"You feel so good," Ran murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "So perfect for me."
Ran began to move, his thrusts slow and deep. The hot water continued to cascade over your entwined bodies, adding to the sensual atmosphere. You clung to his broad shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as pleasure coursed through you.
The bathroom filled with the sounds of your shared passion - soft moans, gasps, and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin. Steam swirled around you, creating a cocoon of intimacy that shut out the rest of the world. In this moment, nothing existed beyond the two of you and the ecstasy building between your bodies.
Ran's pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with increased urgency. You could feel the familiar tension coiling low in your belly, your release drawing ever closer. Ran seemed to sense it too, one hand sliding between your bodies to stroke you in time with his thrusts.
"Ran," you moaned, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. "I'm so close..."
A primal growl reverberated from deep within his chest, his thrusts becoming more forceful and urgent.
You could feel the intensity building between you as he murmured against your ear, "Come for me, baby."
His words sent shivers down your spine and ignited a fire inside you. With each thrust, he pushed you closer to the brink of ecstasy.
Finally, with a loud cry of his name, you let yourself go, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you. Your body shook in his arms as waves of bliss washed over you.
Ran joined you in your release, his cries mingling with yours as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. The warm water cascading down on both of you only added to the sensation of being lost in each other's embrace. And as you both slowly came down from your intense high, you couldn't help but hold each other even closer, savoring the moment together.
Finally, Ran gently lowered you to your feet, keeping a steadying hand on your waist.
As Ran gently lathered your skin with soap, you leaned into his touch, savoring the tender moment. The warm water cascaded over you both, washing away the remnants of passion and the lingering tension of the past days.
"I love you," you murmured, tilting your head back to meet his gaze.
Ran's eyes softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"I love you too," he replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "More than you know."
As you finished washing up, a comfortable silence fell between you. Ran wrapped you in a fluffy towel, his touch gentle as he helped you dry off. You couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you, filled with a mix of desire and something deeper - a fierce protectiveness that both thrilled and unsettled you.
Once dried off, you both slipped into comfortable sleepwear and settled into bed. Ran pulled you close, your back pressed against his chest as he draped an arm protectively over your waist. For a long moment, you simply lay there in the darkness, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.
"Ran," you said softly, breaking the silence. "We need to talk about what happened."
You felt him tense slightly behind you, his arm tightening almost imperceptibly around you. "I know," he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.
"But not tonight, okay? Let's just... be here, for now."
Part of you wanted to push, to demand answers about the charges, about what this meant for your future. But you could hear the weariness in his voice, feel the way he clung to you as if you might disappear. So instead, you nodded, lacing your fingers through his.
"Okay," you whispered. "But tomorrow, we talk. No more secrets, Ran. Not about this."
You felt him nod against your shoulder, his lips brushing your skin in a soft kiss. "Tomorrow," he agreed. "I promise."
As you drifted off to sleep in Ran's arms, you couldn't shake the feeling that tomorrow's conversation would change everything. But for now, you let yourself be lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, savoring this moment of peace in the eye of the storm.
The next morning, you awoke to an empty bed, the sheets beside you cool to the touch. For a moment, panic gripped you - had Ran left in the night? But then you heard the faint sounds of movement downstairs, and relief washed over you.
Slipping on a robe, you padded quietly down the stairs. In the kitchen, you found Ran, already dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark slacks. He was pouring coffee into two mugs, his back to you.
"Morning," you said softly, not wanting to startle him.
Ran turned, a small smile playing at his lips as he took in your sleep-rumpled appearance. "Good morning," he replied, holding out a mug to you. "I was just about to wake you."
You accepted the coffee gratefully, inhaling the rich aroma. "Is Kai still asleep?"
Ran nodded. "Out like a light. I checked on her before coming down."
You took a sip of coffee, savoring the warmth. For a moment, you both stood in companionable silence, the early morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows. It felt almost normal - just another quiet morning with your husband. But the events of yesterday hung heavy in the air between you.
"Ran," you began, setting your mug down on the counter. "We need to talk about what's going on."
His expression grew serious as he leaned against the kitchen island, his own coffee forgotten.
"I know," he said softly. "And I promised you answers. But Y/n, you have to understand - there are some things I can't tell you. For your own safety."
You felt a flicker of frustration.
"My own safety? Ran, I'm already involved. The ATF showed up at my office out of the blue, they’re probably tapping our phones and whatever else,” you said.
Ran's expression darkened at your words. He set his mug down with a bit more force than necessary, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
"That's exactly why I can't tell you everything," he said, his voice low and intense. "The less you know, the safer you are. If they question you again, you can honestly say you don't know anything."
You shook your head, taking a step closer to him.
"That's not good enough, Ran. We're partners. We're supposed to face things together. How am I supposed to support you if I don't even know what we're up against?"
Ran's eyes softened slightly as he reached out to cup your cheek. "You support me by being here," he murmured. "By taking care of Kai. By living your life as normally as possible."
You leaned into his touch, even as frustration bubbled up inside you.
"But it's not normal, is it?" you whispered. "Not when you're facing weapons trafficking charges. Not when there are federal agents watching our every move."
Ran sighed heavily, his hand dropping from your face. He turned away, bracing his hands on the kitchen counter. For a long moment, he was silent, the tension in his shoulders visible even through his crisp shirt.
"The charges... they're not entirely unfounded," he said finally, his voice low. "But it's more complicated than that."
Your heart sank at his words, even though part of you had already suspected as much. "Tell me," you urged gently. "Help me understand."
Ran turned back to face you, his amethyst eyes filled with a mix of determination and regret. "Bonten... we've been expanding our operations," he said carefully. "Moving into new territories, new... products."
Your stomach churned at his words.
"Products like weapons?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ran nodded slowly. "Among other things. It's... lucrative. And necessary, to maintain our position."
You felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Part of you had always known that Ran's business dealings weren't entirely above board, but this... this was beyond anything you had imagined.
"Why?" you asked, searching his face for answers. "Why risk everything like this? We have a good life, Ran. We have Kai to think about."
Ran's expression softened as he stepped closer to you, taking your hands in his.
"Everything I do is for you and Kai," he said softly, his eyes intense as they met yours. "To secure our future, to make sure you'll always be safe and provided for."
You shook your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "But at what cost, Ran? If you go to prison..."
"That's not going to happen," Ran interrupted, his voice firm. "I have contingencies in place. The best lawyers money can buy. And... other measures."
A chill ran down your spine at his words. "Other measures?" you repeated, not sure you wanted to know the answer.
Ran's eyes hardened slightly. "The less you know about that, the better," he said. "But trust me when I say that I have everything under control."
You wanted to believe him, to trust that he had everything under control. But doubt gnawed at you, images of Ran behind bars flashing through your mind.
"And what if you don't?" you asked softly, your voice trembling slightly. "What if something goes wrong? Ran, I can't... I can't do this alone. I can't raise Kai by myself while you're in prison."
Ran's expression softened, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent as tears threatened to fall.
"That won't happen," he murmured, his voice low and intense. "I promise you, Y/n. I will always be here for you and Kai. No matter what."
You wanted to believe him, but fear and doubt still churned in your stomach. Pulling back slightly, you met his gaze.
Ran held your gaze, his eyes filled with determination and a fierce protectiveness that both comforted and unsettled you.
"I need you to trust me," he said softly, his hands coming up to cup your face. "Can you do that?"
You hesitated, torn between your love for him and the fear gnawing at your insides. "I want to," you whispered. "But Ran, this is so much bigger than anything we've faced before. How can I just go on like everything's normal when I know you're in danger?"
Ran's thumb brushed gently across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "Because that's what we have to do," he said firmly. "For Kai. For our family. We have to present a united front, show them that nothing can shake us."
Your head was spinning as you nodded, trying to gather the shreds of your courage. With a knot in your stomach, you finally mustered up the nerve to mention your encounter with Mikey earlier that day, knowing it could potentially put you in more danger than Ran had warned. The thought of Mikey thinking you were a snitch made your blood run cold, and the realization that someone had fabricated this lie about you talking to the police only added fuel to the fire. You anxiously bit your lip as you looked to Ran for guidance, struggling to keep your composure despite the tightness in your throat.
"Mikey...he thinks I'm working with the feds," you managed to choke out, your voice trembling with fear and uncertainty. "But it's not true...someone told him that I was talking to the cops."
Ran's eyes flashed dangerously at your words, his jaw clenching. "Mikey confronted you?" he asked, his voice low and tightly controlled.
You nodded, swallowing hard. "At the courthouse. He... he grabbed me, accused me of talking to the feds. Ran, I swear I haven't said anything to anyone."
Ran pulled you close, his arms wrapping protectively around you. "I know," he murmured against your hair. "I know you wouldn't do that. Fuck, I'm going to kill Mikey for laying hands on you."
You shuddered at the cold fury in his voice. "It's not just Mikey," you said softly. "Someone told him I was talking to the police."
Ran tensed, his grip on you tightening. "Who else knows about this?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
You shook your head, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. "I don't know. Mikey didn't say. But Ran, if someone's spreading lies about me..."
"I'll handle it," Ran said firmly, his eyes blazing with determination.
A chill ran down your spine at his words. You knew what "handling it" could mean in Ran's world. "Ran, please," you whispered. "Don't do anything rash. We don't know who's behind this."
Ran's expression softened slightly as he cupped your face in his hands. "I won't let anyone hurt you," he murmured. "Or put you in danger, I’ll figure it out,”
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