#to when my judge x prosecutor ?

[thefriendoforatioisdead]

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 !

[certaimromance]

ꫂ ၴႅၴ Allegation of Love.

Boyfriend!Hotch 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.

Warnings & Tags: 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).

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.

[storiesofsvu]

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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[sweetromanova]

Off The Record: Part Six🖤

Natasha Romanoff x Criminal Defense Lawyer!Original Female Character

Summary: She’s built a career on keeping secrets and defending the worst with nothing to lose. That changed when Natasha Romanoff showed up on the other side of the courtroom.

Warnings: descriptions of violence, psychological manipulation, implied child abuse and trauma, emotional abuse, mentions of torture, human and sex trafficking, war crimes and murder, implied coercion, legal corruption, gun violence, secondary character deaths, power imbalance, blood and injury depiction

Chapter Six

Undisclosed SHIELD Safe House, Upstate New York

April 2, 2022 

The silence in the safe house feels almost suffocating, like the walls are closing in. Sienna sits on the edge of the bed, her posture rigid, eyes staring at the floor. The only light in the room comes from the faint glow of a lamp, casting long shadows across the bare walls.

She doesn’t move for a long time, just staring into the emptiness, letting the weight of everything settle on her shoulders.

Her hand rests on the bed beside her, fingers drumming lightly against the fabric. Slowly, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a small, worn envelope, the edges frayed, the paper soft with age.

Inside, there’s a photo. It’s an old one. So old that the colours have faded into shades of grey. A family vacation or just a moment before everything became what it is now.

Her father is in the picture. Younger but still carrying that same commanding presence. Sienna’s arm is around his shoulders and he’s smiling. It’s the kind of smile that feels like everything is possible.

Her mother stands next to them, a soft smile on her face. But her eyes are the ones that Sienna remembers most, calm, patient, full of something like quiet hope.

For a moment, she just stares at the photo, tracing her finger along the edges of her father’s face. The man who taught her everything she knew about surviving. The man who became a ghost long before he actually disappeared. “I don’t even know who you were anymore."

The words are quiet, barely above a whisper. But they hang in the air like a weight she can’t escape. Her hand trembles slightly as she lowers the photo, slipping it back into the envelope. She stares at the small, faded piece of paper for a long moment before putting it back in her bag.

She should throw it out, let it go. But she doesn’t. It’s all she has left of them that’s not tarnished by him.

"I’m not even sure I know who I am anymore.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Federal Tribunal Courtroom, Washington, D.C.

April 3, 2022 

The courtroom was silent, not out of respect but recognition. The kind that tightened jaws and slowed breathing. That name had done its damage long before this trial ever began.

Antonia Dreykov sat rigid in the witness box, posture like a blade. No armour or no mimicry mask. Just her, skin too pale for the fluorescent lights, hair pulled back so tight it looked like it hurt. There was nothing meek about her, nothing that begged for sympathy. If anything, she wore her scars like a challenge.

She took the oath without flinching. Her voice steady.

The prosecutor approached slowly, flipping a page in his notes as he addressed the jury. “Ms. Dreykov, you were granted asylum and full immunity following the Red Room collapse?”

“Yes. For my cooperation. I gave intel on facilities, assets, names. Enough to burn it down.”

“And in return?”

“I was cleared. SHIELD, NATO, and the tribunal all signed off.”

“Let’s talk about the HYDRA facility in Pivnichna, Ukraine. 2015. You were embedded there?”

Antonia nodded. “For six months. Under deep cover.”

“Did you encounter the defendant, Maksim Vasiliev?”

Sienna stood, calm and cutting. “Objection. Leading.”

The judge glanced at the prosecutor. “Watch your phrasing, counsel. Sustained.”

The prosecutor adjusted quickly. “Did you witness anyone matching Mr. Vasiliev’s description at that facility?”

“I did.” Antonia nodded. “Multiple times.”

“Describe those encounters.”

Sienna rose again. “Objection. Vague. Counsel is fishing.”

“Sustained. Be more specific.”

The prosecutor regrouped. “Ms. Dreykov, in your capacity as an operative, did you attend any planning sessions where the defendant was present?”

“Yes. Briefings. Target vettings. Post-mission debriefs. He was always in control.”

Sienna’s voice sliced through. “Objection. Speculative and lacking foundation.”

The judge paused then nodded. “Sustained. Jury will disregard that last statement.”

Antonia exhaled slightly but she didn’t back down. 

“He wasn’t background.” She rephrased, more carefully. “He issued directives. I watched him give the go-ahead for an execution order in Belarus. A village. No resistance. Just gone.”

The gallery murmured. Sienna stood again. “Objection. Prejudicial and outside the scope of this charge.”

“Sustained. Let’s keep to the specifics of Pivnichna.”

The prosecutor tried again, slower now. Sienna had ripped apart everything that left his mouth so far. “Did he speak to you directly?”

“Once. After a sanctioned kill. He said something like ‘Feels good, doesn’t it? When they actually deserve it.’ He said guilt was for the people who lost.”

The prosecutor let the words hang but Sienna didn’t give him the satisfaction. “Objection. Narrative. Counsel is using this to sway emotion, not establish fact.”

The judge sighed, taking a moment before a risk. “Overuled.”

From the gallery, Natasha's jaw tensed. Her arms crossed tightly as her eyes flicked from Antonia to Sienna. The prosecutor made one final attempt. “In your assessment, Ms. Dreykov, was Vasiliev acting under the authority of any recognised organisation?”

“No. He wasn’t HYDRA. He wasn’t Red Room. He operated outside of any chain of command. His orders were his own.” She paused. “He used our programs, our people. But he answered to no one.”

“No further questions.” The prosecutor took a seat, looking almost exhausted. Sienna was ruthless, she found a problem in everything he said and now she was going to find it directly with Antonia.

Sienna Blake rose slowly from her chair.

The sound of her heels against the polished floor echoed in the silence, measured, confident. A rhythm carved from litigation and war rooms. Her suit was ash-grey, surgical in cut. She didn’t glance at her client. Maksim sat still as marble beside her because her focus was already locked on the woman who used to be the Taskmaster.

Sienna stopped a few paces from the stand. Her expression was polite but her eyes were not.

“Miss Dreykov.” She spoke, professionally. “Thank you for being here today.”

Antonia didn’t blink. “I didn’t come for thanks.”

Sienna gave a small nod, eyes flicking to her notes, though she didn’t need them. “No. Of course not. You came to tell the truth.”

“Yes.”

The gallery was a mosaic of uniforms and silence. Behind the barrier, Maria Hill sat motionless, eyes narrowed, the kind of look that meant she was three moves ahead, already predicting what Sienna would weaponise next.

And next to her, Natasha shifted. Just slightly. A tilt of her head, a tiny inhalation. Barely visible, unless you’d trained with her. Or bled beside her.

Sienna smiled faintly. “And just so we’re all clear, the truth, as you define it, has already been… selectively granted immunity, hasn’t it?”

A muscle moved in Antonia’s jaw. “I told everything I was asked. And I paid for it. Every day.”

“Did you?” Sienna asked. Her tone remained casual. “Or was it the little girl you used to be who paid, while the woman you have became was simply the invoice?”

There was a ripple in the room. Subtle. Not enough for objection. Just enough to sting.

“Ms. Blake.” The judge sceptically warned.

Sienna offered a soft, almost apologetic shrug. “Withdrawn.”

She flipped a page with her thumb, slow and deliberate. “Let’s talk about the events you’re here to describe. You claim to have encountered my client, Maksim Vasiliev, during joint operations between the remnants of Hydra and the Red Room between 2004-2008?”

Antonia nodded. “Yes. Multiple times. From what I saw, he was logistics. He gave names, missions, bodies.”

Sienna tilted her head. “And yet, despite those multiple appearances, you never once included him in any mission logs. You never named him in your initial debriefings with SHIELD or during your psychological evaluations or in any of the seventeen interviews you gave in exchange for your pardon.” She raised her eyes. “His name doesn’t appear in a single record until two months ago.”

Silence. 

“I remembered.” Antonia spoke but her voice had thinned. “I remembered when I saw what he did to someone else.”

“Convenient.” Sienna said.

She moved closer, not fast but with intention. A slow tightening of the noose.

“You remembered selectively. Like a switch flipped. One moment, he’s no one. The next? He’s the architect of your trauma.”

Antonia’s fingers curled around the wood railing of the witness stand. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Sienna let the words hang. Then she walked a half circle, the courtroom watching her orbit the stand.

“Forgive me.” Sienna spoke. “But that sounds less like a recollection and more like… choreography. Rehearsals.”

From the gallery, Steve Rogers’ jaw flexed. Beside him, Sam exhaled a sharp breath through his nose, arms folded tightly across his chest.

Antonia looked toward the gallery, straight towards Natasha.

And Natasha stared right back, not judging, not pitying, just watching. Seeing something Sienna didn’t. Something buried.

“You think I don’t hate what I was made into?” Antonia said, quietly.

“No.” Sienna said, voice like cold glass. “I think you’ve learned how to turn that hate into leverage.” She leaned forward slightly. “I think you’re still dangerous. And I think you came here not to serve justice but to finish what your father started, this time on the other side of the cage.”

Antonia flinched. Barely. A single blink too slow.

Natasha clocked it. So did Maria.

“You have no idea what I lost.” Antonia breathed.

Sienna’s voice dropped, soft as a blade slipping between ribs. “Neither do you. You don’t remember most of it.”

She straightened, loud enough now for the room to catch every word. “You don’t remember, do you? Cause according to interview six, eight, twelve and fifteen, you spoke several times of being used for memory erasure and being under mind control which was one of the deciding factors to your immunity.”

Antonia didn’t speak.

“So let’s ask again. Do you have any physical evidence? Any correspondence, messages, photographs, voice memos, even a shred of confirmation beyond a name that you conveniently recalled after decades of silence when you were under alleged mind control?”

A pause. 

Antonia swallowed. “No.” She said. “Just the truth. I saw him.”

Sienna smiled but it didn’t touch her eyes.

“Then we’re resting on hearsay.” She turned. “No further questions.”

As Sienna walked back to the defense table, there was a moment, small and private where Natasha looked at her. Not with anger, not even disapproval.

Just realisation. Sienna was going to protect him and potentially ruin anyone who tired to stop that.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Outside of the Federal Tribunal Court, Washington, D.C.

April 3, 2022 

The courthouse doors swung open with a hiss, spilling noise and heat into the grey afternoon. Some random members of press lingered across the street, having no idea on what was going on but hoping for some kind of scandal they can leak. 

Antonia Dreykov was halfway down the steps when she turned.

Sienna had just exited, coat slung over her arm and looking so content, like she was taking a Sunday evening stroll.

“You’re disgusting.”

The words cracked across the plaza like a gun shot. People turned to stare. Officers tensed, watching Antonia like a ticking time bomb. But Sienna? She didn’t flinch. She didn’t stop walking.

Antonia had other plans and closed the distance in five long strides, fury radiating off her like heat.

“You tore me apart in there like I made it up. Like my entire life was something I imagined.”

Natasha moved before anyone else did. She stepped in, intercepting Antonia with a firm hand on her shoulder, not aggressive but not optional either. Natasha knew exactly how Antonia felt, how cruel Sienna behaved in there to disregard her like that but she also knew one misstep could put Antonia in jail for a very long time.

Maria flanked her silently, watching Antonia’s hand like a trained handler of a wild animal.

“I said the truth.” Sienna replied, still walking and still infuriatingly calm.

“No.” Antonia spat. “You said what would win. You painted me like my father, like I wanted to become what I was.”

“You were what he made you.” Sienna spoke, finally stopping to face the assassin. She turned, tilting her head as if considering something fragile under glass. “But now you make choices. And today, you chose to weaponise your pain.”

Antonia surged forward, teeth bared but Maria already had her in her grip. This case will not be thrown out because Antonia wants to kill the defense lawyer.

“Don’t.” Maria said, voice low as she glanced at the guards that were starting to head towards the commotion. “This isn’t worth losing your immunity, your dignity.”

Antonia’s chest heaved, her fists were clenched so tight her knuckles went bloodless.

“I am what he made me.” She whimpered, voice cracking. “But I survived it. I tried to make it mean something. And you- you just discredit all of it. For a man who-“ The police were closing in now, two of them already moving hands to their belts.

Natasha raised a hand, no words spoken, just authority. They immediately backed off, knowing better to go against an Avenger.

“We’ve got it.” She spoke, nodding for Maria to take a distraught Antonia away from this circus. 

Maria led her away gently, murmuring soft words that only Antonia could hear. Once they left, Natasha turned to face Sienna. 

“Do you have something to add too?”

Natasha stepped closer, no fury but pure disappointment.

“You have no idea what you just did in there.”

“I defended my client-“

“No. You just made sure the next girl like her doesn’t come forward.” Natasha’s voice was low. “You didn’t just poke holes in her story, you emptied it. Left her standing in front of a world with nothing but blood and bones and called it inadmissible. You did more damage in her in five minutes than Dreykov ever did. If this goes public, if this trial meets the press? Women will die before they come to us for help.”

Sienna’s jaw tensed. “She chose to do this Natasha, she chose to come into court, knowing exactly what would happen. I’m sorry to do this to do but she’s an alleged witness, nothing more.”

“She’s not just a witness. She’s a mirror. One I’ve spent my whole damn life trying not to shatter.” A long, bitter silence followed.

“You’re smart, Sienna. But you’re not honest. Not with yourself. You think you’re different from the monsters that you defend.” Natasha breathed, her eyes sad. “But today you just showed me. You’re not.”

With that, she turned and walked down the steps, leaving Sienna standing alone in the shadow of the courthouse.

For the first tie, Sienna didn’t look so sure of herself.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The Avengers Compound, Upstate New York

April 3, 2022

Antonia sat curled on the worn velvet couch of the hotel lobby, elbows on her knees, head lowered. Her hoodie was still damp from the mist outside, clinging to her skin like static. Natasha crouched in front of her, voice soft but unwavering. “You don’t need to be strong right now.”

Antonia glanced up, eyes rimmed red but dry. The kind of dry that meant the well had run out. “I am fine.” She whispered. “I’ve had worse.”

Natasha gave her a look, not disbelief, just quiet understanding. She sat beside her, shoulders brushing. “You don’t have to go back alone.”

Antonia shook her head. “Maria booked the flight already. I’m heading back to Budapest tomorrow. Yelena’s meeting me at the terminal.”

A soft smile flickered at the corner of her mouth, almost wistful. “She’ll probably be waiting with Mac and Cheese.” Antonia added. “Says there’s never a wrong time to eat Kraft.”

Natasha laughed quietly, then leaned in and pressed her forehead to Antonia’s temple. It was so gentle, it made tears rise in both of their eyes.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” She whispered.

Antonia nodded and Natasha left her there in the soft yellow light of the lobby, unaware it would be the last time.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

22nd Street, Watervliet, Upstate New York

April 3, 2022

Sienna didn’t notice the van until it was too late.

She was walking fast, head down, coat collar turned up against the cold. Her limbs ached and her head felt heavy. She’d done her damage for the day. She was done.

Then tires screeched behind her. Arms, gloved and practiced, yanked her off her feet. A sack went over her head. She kicked, bit, tried to scream but the blow to her temple made her vision blur.

Everything went black.

[bullet-prooflove]

Flight Risk: Nick Torres x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @district447 @stelacole @gatefleet @mandy426

Companion piece to:

Casanova - You recieve an unwanted gift.

Promises - Nick makes you a promise.

Dry Land - Nick returns home.

A Little Naughty, A Little Nice - Casanova reflects on your relationship.

Safehouse - You and Nick spend a little time together in the safehouse whilst your stalker remains at large.

The Great Seducer - You finally meet the great seducer.

Blood - You're arrested for the murder of the deputy director.

When your name is called out in the courtroom, it takes everything inside of Nick not to go to you. He raises to his feet, his heart racing as he grips the wooden railing in front of him. He wants to be the first thing you see when you step through that door, he wants you to know he’s here fighting in your corner.

He still can’t believe that the Attorney General allowed the DOJ to bring charges against you, that you’ve spent the night in a cell waiting for your arraignment. He’s spent that time pooling his resources, organising a way to get as much cash together as possible so that he can pay whatever bail amount they set.

His heart sinks when he lays eyes on you. Your hair is loose and bedraggled, falling across the shoulders of your beige jumpsuit. There’s dark circles underneath your eyes and you walk with your face downcast, not looking up from the floor as you come to stand beside Harmon Rabb, clad in his JAG uniform at the defence table.

Nick sits down in his seat as the prosecutor organises her paperwork and the session begins. There’s a lot of back and forth between Rabb and the prosecutor, Nick’s stomach churns as he listens to the arguments. It goes on for fifteen minutes before the judge finally calls time on it to deliver her ruling.

“Given the severity of the charges and due to Ms Doherty’s extensive record of undercover work I deem her to be an extreme flight risk. She’s be remanded into custody pending trial.”

“No.” He erupts leaping to his feet and jabbing his finger at the judge. “No that’s not fucking right, he was trying to hurt her! She was protecting herself!”

The courtroom bursts into chaos then, the judge banging her gavel as he’s restrained by two security officers. He fights them, kicking, screaming as you’re torn away from him and hustled through the door.

“Nick you need to stop this, it isn’t going to help her.” Rabb tells him but the words they fall on deaf ears because Nick’s in the throes of madness.

He ends up being held in contempt of court. He spends a couple of hours in a cell before he’s fined for his outburst. He’s a broken man when he steps outside, the sun shines down on him but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel anything anymore.

There’s just this numbness settling in his veins as he sits inside his truck, staring through the windscreen. His hands grip the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he remembers your face when he lost his shit, how resigned you looked.

The knowledge that you’re giving up is what sent him hurtling over the edge, the thought of you spending the rest of your life in prison.  

For you the story is written in stone but Nick, he won’t allow it. He will fight until his dying breath to make sure you’re free.

Love Nick? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ctblanctt]

BEHIND THE SCENES OF THE COURT.

✷ a. cabot x fem!attorney!reader

Warnings: Explicit language, sexual content, fingering (a and r receiving), oral (r receiving), Alex Cabot (yes she is a warning), Alex is a little mean, dom!alex (although they both have control), use of "attorney" and "prosecutor" during sex, intelligent women and they use courtroom language during sex. Men/minors dni.

The courthouse elevator broke down on the 15th floor, leaving you locked in with her for thirty interminable minutes. Alexandra Cabot, Manhattan’s most feared prosecutor, smelled of bitter coffee and determination.

“Good thing I brought the case files,” she murmured, her blue eyes scanning you in the dim light. “We can get the argument going.”

You took a deep breath. This was your first major case as a public defender, and Cabot was destroying your strategy.

“You’re not going to intimidate me, prosecutor.”

She smiled, her red lipstick almost black in the dim light.

“Want to bet?”

__

Courtroom 42 had become a battlefield. You debated for hours, with Alex dismantling each of your witnesses with surgical precision.

“Objection!” you shouted, when she insinuated that your client was lying. “That’s an assumption!”

Alex stepped closer, her heel echoing like a gunshot.

“That’s a fact,” she said, her icy voice contrasting with the heat in her eyes as she stared at you. “Your client is hiding something. And you know it.”

That day the judge adjourned the session. And you were mentally cursing yourself for having doubted Alex.

You spent the next few hours until the next session trying to find flaws or holes in the evidence and speeches of the prosecution, a victorious smile appearing on your face when you finally found a hole in the victim’s testimony.

The case was over. Your client was free. And Alex…

"That was a great defense, attorney."

“My apartment is three blocks away,” she said, passing you in the hallway of the courthouse. “If you want to continue our… discussion.”

You smiled, picking up the key she discreetly dropped.

“I was already late for this hearing."

__

The apartment door had barely closed when Alex pushed you against the wall, the impact making the painting shake, the glass creaking against the frame, her lips meeting yours with an urgency that made your blood boil. Her perfume —jasmine and something expensive, all her own—, filled your lungs, intoxicating like the whiskey that still burned on your palate.

“You’ve been driving me crazy this whole case,” she breathed against your mouth, her firm fingers tugging your blouse out of your skirt.

You laughed, biting your lower lip.

“Was it the plan all along, prosecutor?”

She pulled you by the collar to the center of the room, where the golden light from the lamp illuminated her predatory gaze.

“No.” Her hands went down to your buttons, one by one. “But when you said ‘objection’ in that tone in court…” A shudder ran through your body. “I lost all ability to think rationally.”

Alex led you back into a bedroom, her fingers already working on the buttons of your blouse.

“I want to hear you say it,” Alex ordered, nibbling at the curve of your neck as her hands moved lower. “How many times have you fantasized about this? About me bending you over the courtroom bench?”

“Every session since the Henderson case.” You gasped, Alex’s fingers finding moisture through the fabric of your skirt.

Alex laughed, low and husky, as she ripped the stockings off with a precise tug.

“Judge adjourns. Let’s go to closing arguments.”

The bed was too big, too cold, until Alex pushed her back against the sheets. Her suit was now open, revealing her flushed skin and the black lace bra that no jury would ever see.

“You talk so much about justice,” Alex murmured against your neck. “Show me how you make your case.”

You didn’t respond with words.

In one swift movement, you reversed positions, rolling Alex under you and pinning her wrists above her head. Her black lace bra stood out against her skin, rising and falling with her rapid breathing.

“My retort, ADA.” your lips traced the line of her jaw. “You spent two weeks accusing me in court… but who’s really on trial here?”

Alex tried to pull away, but you tightened your grip, using your body weight to immobilize her.

“Let go,” she ordered, but her voice trailed off at the end. You smiled, slow and wicked, as one hand moved down her body.

"No." You bit her neck, feeling Alex's pulse quicken against your lips. "You want to control me? Prove you can."

Alex reacted as you expected – with equal parts fury and desire. In one fluid movement, she bent her knee between your legs, forcing you back and giving her the chance to reverse positions again, now with you on your stomach, with her pulling your hips up, exposing you completely.

“This is not a debate, attorney.” She spat the words as she unzipped your skirt. “It’s a sentence.”

Your skirt was ripped off along with your ripped tights and Alex wasted no time in removing your panties, throwing them somewhere in the room along with the rest of her clothes.

Her fingers ran through your folds without touching your clit in a slow and deliberate way, in a way that she knew would tease you. Your hips writhed involuntarily, seeking the contact that Alex deliberately denied.

“So impatient…” She murmured, her fingers circling your clit without touching it directly. "In court, you're so eloquent. Now look at you."

You tried to turn your face to see her, but Alex pressed the back of your neck against the mattress. "Oh no, attorney. You look straight ahead and accept your punishment."

Her fingers finally came down, two of them entering at once, without warning. The impact was as sudden as it was brutal. Two fingers plunging into you without ceremony, completely filling your most intimate space. Your body arched violently against the mattress, a hoarse moan escaping between your clenched teeth.

"Looks like someone wasn't as prepared as they thought." Alex whispered in your ear, her fingers withdrawing almost completely before thrusting again with calculated force. You swallowed hard, feeling every vein, every inner fold being explored with surgical precision. Alex knew your body better than you did, knew exactly how to curl her fingers to make your inner muscles contract involuntarily.

"Alex…" You tried to articulate, but the words were lost when her thumb finally found your clit, pressing just enough to make you see stars.

"Quiet," she ordered, picking up the pace as her mouth nibbled at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. "Talkative attorneys lose the privilege of speech."

Your hips tried to follow the movement, but Alex used her free weight to pin you against the bed.

"No." She pulled her fingers out completely, leaving you empty and shaking. "First you look at me."

When you finally opened your eyes, the sight was almost more intense than the touch. Alex above you, her lips swollen from biting, her lace bra dislodged, one hardened nipple exposed. Her fingers glistening with her own wetness.

"Do you like what you see?" She brought her fingers to her mouth, cleaning them with obscene slowness. "Because I certainly do."

Before you could respond, Alex came down like a hurricane. mouth replacing fingers, sucking on your clit like it was your last sip of water in the desert, the fingers of her hand entering you again, this time in an irregular rhythm that left you breathless.

You tried to warn her that you were close, but all that came out was a guttural noise as Alex pinched your clit, the aching pain mixing with the pleasure until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

“Come.” She commanded against your skin, the vibration of her lips sending shockwaves through your body. “Come now, or I’ll stop.”

Enough threat. Your legs shook violently as the wave hit you, your body arching like a bow as Alex drank you down to the last drop.

When you finally collapsed back onto the mattress, Alex crawled up your body like a satisfied predator, her wet lips glistening in the lamplight.

“Looks like we have a verdict,” she murmured, tracing the outline of your swollen lips with her thumb. "Defendant found guilty of leaving me wanting more."

You were still shaking when you turned the tables. With a fluid movement of someone who had studied every loophole in the system —and in Alex's body— you pinned her against the sheets.

"I think the prosecutor forgot an article in the penal code." You whispered, nibbling on the jugular that was pulsing too quickly. "Sexual coercion by the defense."

Alex tried to fight back, but you knew every weak spot, your knee pressing into her open thigh, your fingers curling around the chain of the necklace she still wore, your lips sucking on a bruise.

"You…" Alex's protest turned into a moan as your hand slipped between her legs, finding the wet heat her firm voice tried to deny.

"Silence, prosecutor." You ordered, mimicking her judicial tone as your fingers slid inside without warning. "I'm presenting evidence."

Alex arched like a bow, her teeth digging into your shoulder to muffle the sounds she'd always controlled so well. You felt her body tighten, not from fear, but from the same electric tension that ran through courtrooms when she was about to destroy a witness. "So wet…" You sped up your fingers, curling them just the way you'd hit that spot inside her. "Is this bribery of authority, Cabot?"

The answer came in waves, Alex’s nails scratching your back as her hips bucked against your hand. The muffled scream as you bit into her lacy bra, pulling it down.

When Alex finally fell off the cliff, it was with your name falling from between her lips like an extorted confession. You drank in every tremor, every spasm, until she was as limp as a cold case.

“Verdict?” You asked, cleaning your fingers with your tongue.

Alex caught her breath with the wounded dignity of someone who lost the first round but knew the game better than anyone.

“Appeal granted.” She pulled you into a kiss that tasted of blood and power. “But the court hasn’t closed yet.”

[flowerandblood]

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

_____

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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[amarynthian-chronicles]

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

[vampyreelf]

It Was Good Seeing You, Detective

A/N: I AM BACK!!! Hopefully for good now. Sorry in advance about the bad court jargon, I did my best with the Law and Order experience I have. Enjoy!

Summary: You are a detective that was in charge of the case for Thranduil, he was accused of multiple murders but things go wrong and you go on a spiral.

Thanduil x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Murder, Obsessive Behavior, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Dark!

AO3 Link

GIF on @ladyalatariel

The media circus around this case was ridiculous, ever since the billionaire mogul, Thranduil was indicted for the murders, you weren’t a homicide detective for too long, only two years and many tried to take this case away from you, but you fought tooth and nail and they kept it with you, for the annoyance of many of your more experienced colleagues. Today was the day of the hearing for the case, to know what evidence the prosecution has against Thranduil and if the case will indeed go forward.

You arrive at the court steps, wearing sunglasses since you wouldn’t be able to see anything without them due to the amount of flashes. There was screaming and people following you with the microphone, trying to get a sound bite out of you. 

“Detective, are you positive that the philanthropist and billionaire recluse is guilty of these heinous crimes?” One of them yelled out, trying to keep up with your speed.

“No comment.” You said every 5 seconds, until you finally reached your partner, Aidan, who had a cup of Starbucks for you.

“Your favourite.” He hands you the drink and you thank him. “You’re a superstar, now hopefully when the trial ends they will leave you alone.” He laughs and you roll your eyes.

“Why don't they nag you as well? You’re in all of the photos of the crime scene and you were also on the video of us arresting him.” You drink from the cup and Aidan just laughs at you.

“I’m not the best face to be chased by the cameras, of course everyone wants to talk and film the good looking woman.” You roll your eyes and you enter the court, there you see the prosecutor, Thorin Oakenshield, he is the best and you’re glad he’s the one that is handling the case.

“Are you ready for this, Oakenshield?” Aidan teases and Thorin only laughs and fixes his tie.

“You’re kidding? I want to put all of the Greenleaf family behind bars for years, I’ll settle for the head of the family, the fucking cunt.” The three of you entered the courtroom and you have never seen that many people in a trial before, you were confident in the case you and Aidan built and you knew that Thorin would never go after what he dubs as “mob family with royal blood” if he wasn’t 100% sure.

You sit down at the closest row, behind Thorin and then you see him show up. He was wearing a suit which the cost of it could feed a small village and he looked just as cocky as the day you arrested him. His team of lawyers were there, letting him know the strategy and he was listening intently. You only met one of his lawyers, Tauriel, she was efficient and incredibly pretty, you wondered if anything happened between them.

Thranduil glanced at your direction and smirked, he teased you for so long in the interview room, you spent 12 hours with him and his lawyer until the DNA evidence, one strand of his long blonde hair was found in the victim’s car, the main thing that brought the whole case together.

“All rise for the honourable judge Elrond.” The bayleaf announces, and everyone stands up. When Thranduil stands up, he looks at you yet again. The way he looks at you is so profound, as if he can strip you of all your defences, and it unnerves you greatly.

“Alright, the prosecution will start with the hearing.” Judge Elrond sits down and everyone follows after him, Thranduil looks at you again, his lawyer was talking to him but he didn't break eye contact at all.

“Your Honour, we are here today to prosecute and give the full extent of the law to Thranduil Greenleaf, he tortured and murdered many victims and we are here today to present all of the evidence we have.” Murmurs start in Thranduil's camp, and they don’t seem to be paying attention to Thorin at all.

“Is there a problem, counsellor?” Elrond seemed annoyed already, he was known for his no nonsense approach and he hated theatrics in his court.

“The defence motions for the case to be dismissed, your Honour.” Tauriel speaks after checking her phone and then making sure to check a paper on the table, Thranduil looks at you yet again, and this time it seems that he has already won, which sent a shiver down your spine, somehow you knew this wasn’t good.

“Really? And why is that?” Elrond looks unamused, he is already losing patience with this whole proceeding.

“The defence would like to introduce one more piece of evidence to the trial.” Tauriel announced in all of her confidence, Thorin rolled his eyes.

“Objection, your Honour.” Thorin interjects. “The defence had many months to submit as much evidence as they wanted but they didn't, this is a cheap trick to avoid accountability.” Thorin roars, this was something none of you were expecting.

“The reason why it wasn’t submitted was because we weren’t made aware until now, your Honour.” Tauriel explained and Elrond allowed her to continue. Thorin motioned for you to come closer to him.

“Do you have any idea of what it could be, anything that I need to fight?” He was stressed but you truly had no idea, every single piece of evidence was obviously well handled and processed, you shook your head and he nodded at you. Thranduil was watching you intently while you were conversing with Thorin, his eyes never moving from your form.

“We want the evidence 137 to be dismissed.” The hair found on the victim’s car, one of many victims, the thing that holds this whole case together.

“On what grounds?” Asks Elrond, he is definitely intrigued and doesn’t bode well for Thorin.

“We are challenging the chain of custody,” Tauriel puts a tik tok video on the screen and it’s the lab geek in charge of processing all the evidence, it was a stupid tik tok dance done near his work station. “As you can see,” She zooms in on the evidence. “This was the evidence, and the person responsible is in the the video, his name is Mr. Bilbo Baggins,” Tauriel reads off her list and you take a deep breath. “As you can also see in the video, he is not wearing gloves, making a video on his work station, who’s to say that it was planted or even worse, wrong?” She looks at Thorin who is fuming, there is nothing he can do, if the chain of command is the one of the most important things for any evidence, if the chain of command cannot be scrutinised, the case falls apart. “We move for dismissal since all of the other evidence is circumstantial at best, blatant misrepresentation at worst.” Elrond looks at the case files and looks at Thranduil and Thorin.

“Very well then, the case is dismissed.” The gavel is banged and Tauriel smiles, the whole team is shaking hands with Thranduil, and he hugs Tauriel, it seems that this whole thing was her doing. “Mr. Greenleaf, you are free to go.” Elrond announces and leaves the courtroom, Thorin is furious.

You can’t believe this happened, you knew he was guilty and you were going to prove it, even if it was the last thing you do in this life. 

“How could you let this happen?” Thorin yells at you, he has been trying to get this family for years and it was just taken from him. “A case dismissed because of a fucking lab geek that can’t do his fucking job.” He kept yelling, he wanted heads to roll and yours looked about the right size for him now.

“Hey, you can’t blame her for this man…Y/N did her job, she did everything by the book.” Aidan defended you and you were glad, Thorin always had a soft spot for you, many nights after a win the two of you drank together and almost hooked up once, you have never seen him this angry, he grunted.

“It was her fucking department, the two of you go out there and find me some fucking evidence that I can use and arrest this smug fucking cunt.” With that, he leaves you and Aidan, you are still trying to process everything, thinking of ways on how to kill Bilbo and not get caught.

“We’ll get him, don’t worry.” Aidan gives your arm a gentle squeeze, and leaves you, he has another trial to attend.

Thranduil approaches you, his lawyers left so it was just him. He had that smug look on his handsome face, he knew that he won and he wanted to gloat.

“Detective, I came to tell you that despite your horrid treatment of me, I hold nothing against yourself or the police department, and I hope that you find the person responsible for those horrid crimes.” He had such poise, every single word was measured, every single movement was calculated, you wondered if that was the reason why he killed so viciously, why he tortured his victims for days.

“You got off on a technicality, but I will catch you, it doesn’t matter how it takes. Your ass is going to prison, you prick.” You got right in his face, you wanted him to know that you weren’t scared of him.

“I would love to see you try, pet.” For a moment, there was nothing in his face but pure, unadulterated rage in his face and that scared you, and as soon as it came, it went. “It was good seeing you, Detective.” He smiles and leaves the courtroom, his walk filled with confidence, as if he owned the world, and with the sheer amount of  money he has, it might as well be true.

You left the courthouse just in time to see Thranduil speaking to the media, probably to quell the shareholders of his ever growing empire, watching him with all the confidence in the world, he was born for this, he was incredibly charismatic, you remembered how hard it was for your Captain to believe that the billionaire Thranduil Greenleaf, who has royal blood that he was guilty of brutal murders like those ones.

You drove away and you were determined to chew out Bilbo for his fuckup, but you weren’t going to stop, you were determined to put Thranduil in jail. This was the biggest case in your career and you were totally fucked over here, it was infuriating but you were determined to get it right this time. You got into the building and everyone was watching the interview and people looked at you, there was pity and some smugness, as if to say that they wouldn’t fuck it up a case this big.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS BILBO BAGGINS.” You yelled out and people scattered away, no one has ever seen you this angry before, despite the profession all of you are in, you were usually quite chill. Your Captain leaves his office after hearing you.

“What happened?” Bard, your Captain asks you, he always had a soft spot for you, he saw you as a daughter, he had the parental role in the precinct.

“I’m here, I’m here.” He comes from the elevator with a scared look on his face. You turn to him and you come right to his face. “Woah, what happened?” He took a step back, clearly scared of you.

“A FUCKING TIK TOK VIDEO FILMED WHILE YOU HAVE THE GREENLEAF EVIDENCE ON FULL DISPLAY?!” Bilbo was now white as a ghost, the whole precinct was looking at the interaction, no one dared to say anything. “YOU FUCKED UP MY WHOLE CASE FOR SOME 10 LIKES?! YOU FUCKING DUMBASS.” You point into his face and he backs away, trying to figure out how to defend himself. Bard put himself between you and the man.

“Detective, what happened?!” Bard asks you again, you take a deep breath trying to calm yourself down.

“The case was dismissed because the lawyers questioned the chain of command showing this fucking dumbass with the evidence RIGHT BEHIND HIM.” You yelled out and Bard looked at Bilbo, who looked down. “I won’t stop, I will put that motherfucker in jail.” Bard nods in acknowledgment.

“Do what you need to do. I will authorise anything, now go cool off.” You bumped into Bilbo and  left the precinct and went home, you seriously could’ve killed Bilbo for fucking up your whole case.

“Well, you know what to do. Delete tik tok and don’t ever post anything at work online.” Bard instructs Bilbo who is on the verge of tears, nods his head and leaves back to the lab.

Getting home you open the huge case board that you created at home, every single victim, his bank statements, times of the murder and where Thranduil was at those exact times, there was nothing else you could discover, not without the bodies or forensic evidence. You started to read the case file again and put the video of your interview with Thranduil, without his lawyer for the first one, you came quite friendly into his office and asked if he knew anything about the disappearance of his intern.

“ Mr. Greenleaf, please take a seat. ”  You heard your voice through the laptop, mentally cringing about hearing your own voice in a recording.

“ Of course, detective .” His voice was even more velvety on a recording, it was rich and calming at the same time, no wonder he always had everyone hanging over his every word.

There was nothing in the files, if you wanted to catch him, he would have to make another mistake which meant people dying.

“ Forgive me for admitting this, but I don't know much about your career .” Now you noticed he was angry about that, his veneer was quite easy to crack if you knew where to poke. “ Can you tell me more about yourself, your great accomplishments? ” He basked in the praise but it was barely noticeable, you only noticed that after watching the footage, a barely noticeable smirk and an opening of the chest.

“ Some would say that I have what I have due to my family name and father, but the companies were national and I made them global, so I will take credit for that. ” His body language was relaxed, hand on the table and looking at you at all times.

“Well, it seems that it takes only 3 generations to squander generational wealth, so you certainly did the impossible.” Flattery didn't work with everyone but it might’ve worked on Thranduil, perhaps he assumed you were being genuine. You saw him bite his lips and look at your lips, he liked you, at least felt some lust.

“You flatter me, Detective.” He smiles but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, he was getting impatient, you noticed that at the interview too.

“Do you remember your intern,” You put his photo on the table and Thranduil looked at it. “He was covering for your assistant who was on maternity leave, Lindir.” He doesn’t seem to react at first, trying to remember the face, but there was something there.

“Well, my assistants aren’t always with me.” His confident demeanor hasn’t changed, he was still in control and in a way, in control of this conversation. You were watching the video intently, trying to find any cracks of his facade.

“Of course, but he replaced your personal assistant,” He tilted his head, he realised you were fishing for information and didn't know how much you actually had. “One would assume that you would miss his presence, since you rely so heavily on them, especially him.” You point at the photo again and Thranduil looks at you, it was the same intense stare he was giving you at the courtroom.

“Believe it or not Detective,” He looks away for a moment, body language still confident. “I physically cannot keep track of my employees, once he didn't show up to work without a valid reason, he was fired and I found another assistant.” He dismissed the prerogative you were trying to build around Lindir. “Why do you ask? Is he claiming a hostile work environment?” He laughed and it was a real laugh, he was good at faking emotions, in your gut you knew he had none.

“He isn’t claiming anything,” You announce dismissively, you put the other photo in front of him. “He’s dead, found with a piano chord around his neck.” Thranduil looks genuinely surprised, he looks at you with unshed tears in his eyes.

“This is devastating, and I hope you find the person responsible for this.” He seemed so genuine, but you knew that this was all an act and he had something to do with this.

“Do you know anyone that had any issues with Lindir at your company?” More fishing, you had nothing and you knew that Thranduil knew it too.

“You will have to ask the company’s HR, any matters between employees go to them and Lindir was a great employee, no complaints from me.” You remembered this very well, you were about to ask another question when his lawyer barged in, Tauriel.

“Why are you speaking with my client without his lawyer present?” She spoke but Thranduil had his eyes on you again, it was as if he saw something in you, something that you didn't even see yourself.

“He hasn’t been accused of any crime, counsellor,” You told her plainly, you had no evidence and both of them knew that. “This is just a few questions in regards to his former intern.” You hated lawyers, especially the up-tight ones like Tauriel.

“We’re leaving, sir.” Thranduil got up from his seat without a care in the world, it was infuriating but you kept your composure. “If you have any other questions, please make sure to contact my office, otherwise we will sue this department for harassment of my client.” Tauriel left the room and it was only you and Thranduil again but out of shot of the camera.

“It was good seeing you, Detective.” He smirks at you, you remembered how cocky he looked.

“Mr. Greenleaf, please refrain from leaving the city,” He looks back at you, waiting for your next words. “In case we have some more questions.” You shrugged your shoulders and he left and you stopped the tape.

Since you now know for sure that you got a reaction out of Thranduil, you will be his surveillance, Bard gave you card blanche to do what you wanted and you were going to catch him before he killed anyone else. You decided to go back to the precinct and get everything you needed to start your surveillance on Thranduil Greenleaf.

“Surveillance tools please,” You tell the tech guy, he was quite nice to you. “All we have, even the new stuff.” You smile at him, and you look around. “Even the stuff you’re testing and no one but me knows, Grinnah.” It was true, you caught him once doing not so legal things that could get him in trouble, so you promised to cover for him if he shared with you everything he made, he was a genius.

 “Alright.” He was a man of few words but always so loyal, he grabbed cameras, audio equipment, everything necessary for surveillance but then he brought his big box and he opened it at the counter. “This is the only one relevant to you,” He grabs what looks like a key chain but it only has one button. “If you are driving or walking somewhere where you’re not supposed to be, press this button and it interferes with the cameras, they will glitch.” He hands it to you but rather apprehensively.

“I know the deal, Grinnah.” You put the device in your jacket. “If I get caught with this, I bought it from the dark web.” He smiled, relieved that you are holding up the end of your deal. “Besides, who would believe me anyways.” The two of you laugh and he still keeps his gaze on the floor.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He was incredibly grateful but that made you cringe.

“Never call me that again, I am only two years older than you.” You left with the box and then you saw your Captain.

“When I said that you needed to do what you needed to do, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, Detective.” Bard looks at the box and he knows that you are worse than a dog with a bone, you won’t stop at any cost, it was part of who you were, and why it made you such a good detective.

“We have no physical evidence that links him to any of the murders, he will fuck up and I will be there to catch him.” Bard sighed, if he told you no, it wouldn’t stop you.

“Fine, but keep me updated and don’t get caught. If his lawyer even dreams about this we will get sued and he will probably leave the country for good.” You beam with excitement, this is the best news you could’ve gotten.

“I will not, Mr. Bowman…have some faith.” With that you left the precinct and started getting everything ready for your surveillance.

You rented a car with tinted windows, black and generic not to call too much attention to yourself, so you could blend in the background, you put your car in near his apartment complex and you rented an apartment opposite to his, so you could watch him better, his apartment was in the penthouse so you did what you could with the department’s money, seventh floor but you had a great view of his apartment. The car was to follow him everywhere he went, his office, late night activities in particular, catching him in the act would be perfect for you.

Knowing that you couldn’t use illegally obtained surveillance in court, since you don’t have a warrant, but you still decided to bug his apartment, you slipped in with maintenance men that came to fix his pipe work, and using the gadget made by Grinnah, you made sure that no one would see you. Planting one in each room, and the last one was in his bedroom before anyone caught you.

Setting up shop at your basically new home, you brought all of the evidence there and now you were waiting. The first few days Thranduil wasn’t at home, he was in Rome, meeting with his son and shareholders, probably about his case and how he wasn’t going anywhere. In those days, you reviewed the evidence, looked at crime scene photos and notes of other detectives that found the other victims.

He was methodical in all of his killings, nothing left to change, the M.O. was always the same, except for the intern, Lindir. You always assumed this to be a crime of passion of convenience, but even then it was still methodical. With the piano chord, the penchant for the dramatics, it was him but he didn't take much pleasure in this kill, Thranduil tortured his victims first, he needed that alone time.

When Thranduil finally arrived from his many travels, he was locked in his study; the man preferred to work from home, unlike many in his position. He spent all day and most of the night in his study, you hear the odd pen scribbling away, the keyboard being used, you quickly notice that he spent many hours in silence.

After a full week of nothing, he receives the visit of his lawyer, the annoying one, Tauriel. She seemed on edge, but Thranduil couldn’t care less.

“Why did you pay for Lindir’s funeral?” Through your binoculars, you could see her pacing around his study, you really didn't like her. “You were accused of murdering him.” She yelled out but that only made Thranduil laugh.

“His family was ready to testify in my favour, an employee died while working for me. This is the least I could do.” Everything was so final with Thranduil, his tone of voice, his choice of words, everything. “If that is all, you are dismissed.” You saw that he didn't look at her and then she left.

It took Thranduil two more nights to bring a woman in his apartment, you saw them kissing and again, he was methodical in his approach, removing her clothes and guiding her to his bedroom, you could hear her moans through the recording, the way he was kissing her skin, again, it didn't seem genuine, as if he had a task to complete, but his grunts were genuine, he was still enjoying this. Seeing him and his skill on that woman made you painfully aware that you haven’t been properly fucked in a long time, Thranduil seemed to know what he was doing.

With the scene unfolding right in front of your eyes, you realised that you were horny. You admired his body, he looked so muscular, it was hard to see under his endless expensive suits, his perfect platinum blonde hair was still in place despite his unholy activities. When he removed his trousers, you audibly gasped, his cock looked monstrous, at least 17 cm with a sizeable girth, for a moment you thought how delicious it looked.

Instinctively, you reach your panties and you feel how wet you truly are. You play with your  clit, still admiring Thranduil. You knew exactly how to make yourself cum, and with his grunts and moans was even easier, and your ears naturally blocked out the shrill moans of the woman under him. You bit your lip to prevent moans escaping, it was dirty and slightly immoral but you didn't care, you wanted to cum.

“Cum for me, pet.” His words made a shiver run down your spine, remembering how he called you in the courtroom. “I want to see you falling apart for me, I want to corrupt you.” It was as if he was speaking to you, and then you came, hard, you yelled, the hot pleasure  running through your whole body.

“Fuck.” You were coming down from your high, fingering yourself lazily. Thranduil’s grunts were getting erratic, you knew he was close and you couldn’t wait.

“Hey, what…” The woman spoke and you heard his grunts, he was like an animal and you liked it. After a few seconds you heard the woman speak again. “What the fuck? I told you, you could cum inside.” Her granting voice took you right out of your lust filled state.

“You have five minutes to leave my apartment, before I call the police.” Through your binoculars you could see that Thranduil left the woman alone and he went to his bathroom, she was picking up her clothes and her face was covered with his cum, she grabbed her dress and put it on, used her panties to remove the cum, or least most of it off her face and left in a huff, slamming the door.

After at least half an hour Thranduil emerges from his bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, his muscles were slightly damp now, and he looked incredible, he must have a lot of strength, you pondered. Once he goes to sleep, you do the same, the orgasm made you tired. 

You woke up at around 6:30 AM, and you realised that you were in desperate need of breakfast. So you got ready and went to a nice bakery at the end of the street, the smell of fresh bread and baked goods made you take a deep breath, you went to the counter and ordered some bread and other pastries.

When you opened the door, you saw Thranduil and you stopped in your tracks. You weren’t in your usual work clothes, you had a little black dress since you didn't bring much clothes with you.

“Detective, I hope you are not stalking me.” He smirked at you, only now you realised how much he actually towered over you.

“I was going to Thorin’s house to discuss a few cases.” The fact that you were touching yourself because of him the night before didn't help your demeanor.

“Mr. Oakenshield? Yes, he does live nearby.” He seemed pleased with your answer, but then it came to you, how did he know where Thorin lived? “I have passed him many times in this very same bakery.” It was as if he could read your mind, he knew exactly what you were thinking, what you needed to hear.

“Well, I must go now.” Thranduil didn't move so you moved past him and went to the door.

“It was nice seeing you, Detective.” His voice dropped a few octaves, and it reminded you of the night before. You left the bakery and made sure that Thranduil wasn’t watching you.

Getting into your apartment you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, you needed to be more careful, but in your defence, Thranduil barely left his home, so you decided and it was delivery only from now on. While you were eating your breakfast, Bard was calling you.

“Sir.” You answered his call, knowing that he wasn’t happy with the fact that you still had nothing on Thranduil.

“Any news on him?” Bard was indeed losing his patience, he hates the fact that you were going nowhere and not taking any new cases.

“I am getting closer but Captain, give me another two weeks. I am close, I can feel it.” Bard took a deep breath, you were lucky that he had such a soft spot for you.

“Fine, but if you come up with nothing you will have to let this go.” You won’t, you can’t let him go. “Promise me, Y/N.” You take a deep breath and nod your head, even though he can’t see you.

“Alright, two weeks.” He hung up the call and you sighed relieved, you had some time and you could find something to get Thranduil.

It was now a week after you had that conversation with Bard, and you knew every single thing about Thranduil and his schedule, you know how he likes his coffee in the morning, how he likes to sleep against the wall on his bed, even his bowel movements were known to you. When he had to go anywhere you followed him with your rented car, and you knew his friends and business associates as well, you knew every single thing about him and absolutely nothing about the murders, you went through his apartment to find any evidence but nothing.

You were coming to terms with the fact that you might’ve been wrong, he wasn’t the serial killer you were looking for at all, or maybe he was but you couldn’t prove it. You knew that he was about to leave for a business trip to Switzerland, and for some reason you were on edge because of it, you were sure that something would happen, maybe he would kill someone there, maybe that is why he is leaving for long periods of time.

While your thoughts were on Thranduil, you saw the same woman around the building, you have seen her almost every day now for the past six days, so you knew there was something that she wanted, and if she wasn’t entering, it only meant she didn't have access to the building. You kept your eye on her and she left as soon as Thranduil left his building, she was interested in him, you watched his bulletproof SUV leave and you went back to looking into the cases one more time.

It was now 23:27, and you were getting ready for bed, when you saw the girl again, she entered through the maintenance door, she had a key but it seemed that she didn't want to be seen. You waited a few moments and you saw her in Thranduil’s apartment so you left and went to the building, you left your phone and you grabbed your gun, your badge, and also your gloves.

Once you left the apartment you were staying in, you pressed the gadget that Grinnah gave you, and the cameras wouldn’t be able to see you. You entered Thranduil’s building and saw the doorman, he gave you a smile and you were going to have to use your badge.

“Police, how are you doing, sir.” You smiled at him.

“Not bad at all. How can I help you, ma’am?” The older gentleman was incredibly polite and sweet, someone that has been doing his job for a long time and was happy with it, quite enviable.

“I have been assigned a stalker case for a woman here in the building, she is out now and I want to check the building just in case he did something.” You looked around and came closer to him. “The stalker is someone in the force, and nothing will be done. I just want to help a friend.” You knew that the sweet older man would sympathise with this situation and he let you go to the elevator. “Please, since he’s with the force it’s imperative that absolutely no one knows.” You looked at him and he nodded again.

“Of course, ma’am.” He nodded and let you go on your way, you went to the penthouse and when the door was opened, you saw Thranduil’s door open.

With your gun in hand, you entered the apartment and you saw the woman with a bag of blood.

“Freeze.” She put her hands up. “Police, do you realise what you are doing is trespassing?” She turned around and you saw her face, she was a redhead and quite pretty but younger than you. “What are you doing?” Confusion was the only thing you were feeling at the moment, you saw a bag of blood and some hair in a zip lock bag.

“Do you have any idea what he is? She yells out, tears streaming in her eyes, she is devastated. “He killed him, and no one gave a shit.” She cries again, and looks at her backpack. “So I will plant evidence in his bedroom and then I will call the police and they might start to investigate him.” Desperation reeked out of all of her pores, and you knew that all too well.

“That won’t work, do you have any idea how many cameras you passed through? They will look at every single one of them and they will see you. And he’s not even in the country now, he will get off free, again.” Your gun was still pointed at her still, she seemed determined and it didn't seem that she was going to stop.

“I was careful, and this will start an investigation to be opened again.” She was rambling, shaking and out of breath. “He can’t get away, he paid for the funeral.” She yelled again.

“Who was Lindir to you?” You enquire and she cries, she seemed to care about Lindir a lot.

“He was my boyfriend, I loved him so much.” She was getting angry again. “Which is why this pig has to pay for what he did, his parents believed the bullshit speech he gave at their house, but I knew, I knew the psychopath that he is. Please, you have to help me. You’re a cop, you know what I need to do it right, look at what I have.” She kneeled with her back to you.

You lowered your gun, everything was coming into your mind. Thranduil, what he was going to feel about this? This couldn’t be, this couldn’t happen, this couldn’t be at all.

“I have Lindir’s hair, and some blood that I stole from the blood bank I work at, if we scatter this correctly we can frame him, if you get the case, you can make sure everything goes well.” You put your gun back in your holster and you grab a pen on Thranduil’s coffee table, and you walk towards her, you had to do this, you had to get rid of her.

While she was distracted preparing everything, you jammed the pen on her carotid artery, blood was slowly trickling down her neck, she looked horrified and her eyes closed, you made sure to slowly lower her body to the ground. You needed to make sure that everything was in order.

Looking around you entered his bedroom and got one of his huge suitcases, it was heavy and looked expensive, so you decided to use it. You go back to the living room and you put the girl on the suitcase, her backpack as well, making sure that the pen didn't get out of her wound. Closing the suitcase you made sure that everything was in order, and you also took out the bugs you planted in all of the rooms.

You left his house with the suitcase, you went to the maintenance elevator and made sure no one saw you, it was late but you never knew, making sure the gadget was on, you put your hoodie up and put the suitcase in the trunk of your rental car. Your family had a boat at the marina, you were going to use the boat to get rid of the body, international waters.

Why did this girl do this? Why did she have to get in the way? You put the suitcase on the boat, not turning on the map since it would be easy to track where you went, luckily you know different currents so the suitcase can be taken far away from here. That is what you did, you threw out the suitcase, with the huge flashlight you were able to see the suitcase being taken away, as soon as you couldn’t see it anymore, you broke down. You were ugly sobbing, shaking, it was a mess.

You stayed like for at least an hour before you turned around to the dock, you went back to the apartment and you were determined to stop this, you killed someone, this took over your life, your mind.

‘Be honest, why did you do this?’ The voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you, but you couldn’t think about this at this moment, this was all too much, you knew that you couldn’t get back to work, at least not for a while. You went to sleep, determined to taking a leave, even if it was with no pay.

You were now at the precinct, this morning you deleted all of the recordings you had with the girl in Thranduil’s house, you were out of your mind now. Not speaking to anyone, you entered Bard’s office, you had bags under your eyes and they were red with tears being shed all night. 

“What happened to you?” He comes to you, for a moment he imagined that you were attacked.

“I can’t keep doing this, Bard. This case is too much, I don’t feel like myself.” You started crying again, and Bard hugged you, trying to console you. “I need to put myself together, please Bard.” Between sobs you let him know, the worst thing is that you can’t even be honest, with anyone, ever.

“Of course, take all the time you need. Just come back to your former self.” His words make you sob even harder, you don’t think that is possible, at all. You are fundamentally changed, you might not be able to be a cop anymore.

“Alright, I’ll see you around.” You put your sunglasses on, not needing your former colleagues to see you crying.

“Before you go,” Bard stops you, he is nervous about asking you this question. “Is Thranduil guilty?” He whispers, you take a deep breath.

“No, I was just obsessed with finding a killer and it got me destroyed. Don’t do the same, don’t let anyone in this department do the same.” He nods and you leave the precinct, not knowing if you were coming back here.

Getting to your own apartment you went straight to bed, you were exhausted and you needed to sleep for at least three days. And that is exactly what you did, you stayed in bed for three whole days, barely eating or drinking, mainly sleeping. After those three days, you decided to take a long shower and get your life together, you needed to get away from this city. After getting your hair done, you went to your AirBnB app and tried to find somewhere to go, somewhere remote.

You found a remote cabin in the mountains, no cell reception, and it was perfect for you. Since you had money in the bank, you decided to stay there for two months. Perhaps being away from everything and everyone will repair your mental health, trying to forget what you did yesterday.

It was now time for you to go to the cabin, you left all of your electronic devices, only taking books and hiking gear for outdoor passtime. You took out money since you didn't want to be tracked by Bard, you knew he was going to try to track you down, you paid the AirBnB with paypal so nothing would show up there, and only handling cash from now on would be good.

You were in the cabin now, it was gorgeous. Every day was the same, you got wood for the fire in the evening, having your breakfast looking over the mountains, then reading and going on a walk after dinner. But one thing didn't change, you were still plagued by Thranduil, all of your dreams were about him, you couldn’t escape him, trying to do anything else was only bound to bring more thoughts of him, of his body, his hair, his eyes, his cock and the mindblowing orgasm you had because of his voice.

You were now returning home, it was late at night but you still had Thranduil in your mind, it was like a plague in your mind, everything was still about him. You were still not ready to go back to work, maybe it was time to find something else to do, a few friends of the force mentioned P.I. work and how it is much less dangerous and it pays much more, maybe that is something you can do.

You unlocked the door of your apartment, ready to go to sleep and have your mind plagued by Thranduil yet again. You entered your apartment and as a bad habit you had, you didn't turn on the lights, you entered with your suitcase, you passed the door from your bedroom to go the kitchen and that is when you felt a blade on your neck, it was too quick for you to react, but the scent was oddly familiar.

“You don’t have to do this. You can take whatever you want, I haven’t seen you, just go.” You were eerily calm, all that cop training was kicking in.

“Why would I kill you, Detective.” Your blood ran cold, it was him, the man that was plaguing your thoughts for almost a year now.

“Thranduil.” You whispered, even saying his name out loud felt good.

“Were you expecting someone else?” He teased, his nose touched your ear, his arm was around your chest and you felt his strong chest on your back. “I missed you, Detective.” He whispered in your ear. “Why you’re not surveilling me anymore?” He knew, of course he knew, Thranduil was too smart.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You weren’t going to admit to anything, he couldn’t know everything.

“Don’t insult my intelligence, pet.” He growled and the tip of the knife touched your neck, it was so easy for him to lose his patience. “But not to worry, it took me a week to find the bugs in my house, you hid them very well.” His hand travelled to your breast and you didn't do anything, you were enjoying his touch, his attention. “And I knew there was only one person in that useless department that would be bold enough to put up illegal surveillance in my apartment, my impetulant little pet.” Thranduil brought you even closer to his body, you now felt his cock against your lower back. “Imagine my surprise when I arrived from another tedious business journey, and the listening devices were all gone, and the car that never got a parking ticket was also gone.” His nose touches your neck, and shivers run down your spine, his touch is magnetic, addictive. “So tell me, pet.” All this time and you still haven’t seen his handsome face. “Why did you leave?” His hand travels down your blouse, under your bra and he finds your nipple, he toys with it, with his thumb and finger, you suppress your moans and you don’t stop him either.

“It was a waste of my time, I had nothing on you.” He hums and opens the buttons of your blouse, he is not in a hurry to respond to you, since your bra opens from the front, Thranduil also opens it with ease, he slaps your tits roughly, you can’t help but moan, making him laugh wickedly.

“What else are you not telling me, Detective?” He couldn’t know, he had no way of knowing that you killed Lindir’s girlfriend, still playing with your tits he puts the knife on the kitchen counter, both of his hands are now on your breasts, he plays with your nipples, you put your head on his shoulder and he smirks. “Tell me, pet.” He whispers in your ear, his right hand travels down to your trousers, he opens it and he moves your panties to the side, and he feels how wet you are, you’re soaked. “You are too stubborn to stop, something must’ve happened, tell me pet, I would never judge you.” He inserts one finger inside you, making you moan, he was playing with your body and you didn't care, in fact, you were loving every second of it.

“I did something bad.” You breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t recognise myself anymore.” Your hand touched his, the one on your pussy, he was fingering you at a torturously slow pace, he wanted to tease you.

“Oh, my beautiful little pet.” He inserted another finger, and you moaned louder, he was stretching you so beautifully, his fingers felt heavenly. “Nothing that you could ever do is bad, tell me.” You felt his cock getting even harder, you opened your legs wider to give him more access.

“I killed someone.” His thumb goes to your clit, and you arch your back, moaning again.

“Shh, shh.” Thranduil starts drawing circles on your clit, hard and fast, you felt your pussy clenching around his fingers, he slowed down his ministrations. “Tell me what happened.” He encourages, and you are about to bare your deepest darkest secret to Thranduil, who better than him to share this burden with you?

“A girl.” You start, his continues fingering you, slow and deep. “Once you left for Switzerland, she entered your apartment.” You close your eyes, and Thranduil pulls your nipple making you flinch and moan. “I confronted her, and she told me that she was Lindir’s girlfriend.” He pulls your nipple again, this time you feel only pleasure coursing through your body. “She worked at a blood bank, she stole a blood bag, she also had Lindir’s hair, she wanted to plant the evidence in your apartment.” Thranduil starts fingering you hard and deep, the noises it makes are loud, you are soaked, your breathing gets shallow, your moans are louder and louder, you couldn’t concentrate on anything else but his fingers buried inside your pussy.

“What happened after that, darling?” His ministrations never stopped, he wanted you to describe what happened in your delirium of pleasure that he was giving you.

“I told her she couldn’t do it, but she tried to convince me, she wanted my help on how to place the evidence in the correct place, and help you pay for what you’ve done.” His speed increased, and you felt yourself getting closer to an orgasm. “I’m gonna cum.” You announced and Thranduil immediately stopped his fingers, you whined, why he was denying you, he pulled your nipple again.

“Go on, finish the story.” He whispers, and he starts fingering you at a torturously slow pace.

“I didn't do it and I grabbed a pen.” His thumb goes to your clit, his circles are quick and hard, you start clenching around his fingers again. “And I jammed the pen in her carotid artery, she died and I got rid of her body and the evidence she brought.” You felt lighter, confessing this to Thranduil made you feel better.

“Oh, my little pet.” He laughs lowly. “You are perfect, I knew there was the same darkness in you.” He kisses your neck, down to your shoulder, his fingers never being removed from your pussy. “Tell me why you killed her.” You tensed, and for the first time you tried to get away from his arms. “Ah, ah, ah…” He held you in place and slapped your tits. “Tell me, darling…tell me why you killed Lindir’s girlfriend.” You shook your head, you couldn’t speak on why, you knew the reason, you knew why you killed her. “Say it.” He growled in your ear, he knew, Thranduil wanted you to say it.

“Because of you.” You exclaimed, and he picked up his pace and his thumb on your clit as well. “I couldn’t let you go to jail.” You moaned and he was hitting your G-spot, your back was arched and you were about to cum, but this time Thranduil never stopped. You were clenching around his fingers but that only fueled him, your body was on fire, you were moaning and arching your back. “I’m gonna cum.” You announced.

“Cum for me.” As soon as those words were uttered by Thranduil, you came all over his fingers, you moaned and he helped you ride out your orgasm, he held you close and helped you, the fog of your orgasm was being lifted but his fingers were still inside you. “I told you I would corrupt you, darling.” You instantly remembered his words when you were watching him. “I always knew you were perfect, but this was beyond my greatest expectations.” He removed his fingers and you whined, feeling empty. “Do you want to know how I killed Lindir?” You nod your head enthusiastically, he is the only one that understands you. “It was a crime of passion, he made me lose hundreds of millions by his incompetence, so I waited in his atrocious car, in the back seat.” Thranduil drags you to your bed, he throws you and you are able to see him in all his glory. He removed his black shirt and trousers, he also pulled yours, with force.

“Fuck.” You whispered and his smirks at you, after your trousers were removed, he put his arms around you and he put the tip of his cock on your pussy. He entered it swiftly and you were stretched, you yelled because he gave you no time to adjust to his size, he was grunting and groaning and you loved every second of it.

“I had a piano chord in my office and that is what I used. I watched his useless life being taken by me through the mirror, it was incredible.” A deep thrust made you arch your back, his cock was huge, you had no idea how he fit you. “It excites me, darling.” He whispers and his thrusts are hard and deep, you were moaning and your nails went to his back. Thranduil put his hand on your neck and you looked at him, his eyes had lust, pure and unadulterated lust. “It was quick and easy, and I must say, you were the only one to come that close to catching me, I was impressed.” He slaps you and the sting makes you moan.

“And the others?” He thrusts again and you moan loudly.

“That is where you are so good at what you do, no one else would even dream of making the connection to me, you are special.” He admires you, Thranduil sees you for who you are and now while he was inside you, confessing his crimes to you, you never felt closer to anyone else, he was your perfect match.

“How many?” He laughs and picks up his pace again, he has incredible control of his body.

“Hundreds, I lost count by now, darling.” Your body is so hot, with him on top of you is even hotter but you need him, you need him closer, you need him to consume you entirely.

“Does anyone else know?” He kissed you for the first time, his tongue fighting for dominance and you gladly gave it to him, every single one of his actions was to dominate you.

“My son, Legolas.” He admits, your hand goes to his face and you admire his beauty, his lips parted, his pupils dilated much like yours too. “He helps me, I help him.” So he was also a killer, you wonder if they have a rivalry. “You are remarkable, darling.” Thranduil is as obsessed with you as you are with him. His thrusts get quicker and more erratic, he is close.

“No, Thranduil.” You moan and pull his hair. “I am not on the pill, you can’t cum inside.” Alerting him, he slaps you again, harder than last time.

“I own you.” He was scary like this, and the worst thing is that you loved every second of this, he was correct, he owned you completely already. “And by owing you, I will cum whenever I want and that will be deep inside your pussy.” You clench around him, your orgasm is approaching soon, your noises are pornographic, your sweaty bodies in your bed and moaning and grunting. He grunts and the two of you cum together, the heavy breathing as well.

“I’m a horrible person.” You tell yourself and Thranduil laughs, he takes his cock from your pussy and you whine at the loss, you never felt emptier.

“Oh, darling…” He kissed you slowly, his hand went to your neck and he made you look at him. “Soon you won’t care about such things.” Thranduil kissed your neck, his hair falling on your chest.

“What happens now? I am not a cop anymore, I don’t think I could ever go back.” There was no one else that you could open up that way.

“I don’t care what you do, but you are mine forever, darling.” He kissed you again, and now for the first time ever, you are at peace.

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

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.

[write-here-n-now]

"7-month long crisis finally averted"

⤷ C.(s) Park Jay x Reader ⤷ WC. 547

⤷ Part of: "the dangerous games we play"

∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘

After a gruelling 7 months of courthouse rounds, prison visits and countless all-nighters, this was the day you’d put all your work and sweat into for.

“The court hereby finds Mr. Park Jongseong innocent of the accused crimes.”

You stand up, breathing out a sigh of relief—finally it’s all over. 

When you turn to your side, Jay tackles you in a hug, whispering a sweet “thank you” to your ear.

Stepping out of his embrace, you make your way over to shake hands with the prosecutors, a smug smile on your face as you watch them with their heads down, quickly gathering their items and rushing out of the courtroom.

You gather your belongings as well to meet Jay and the rest of your team outside, hoping to finally relax and treat yourself after all the dedication taken to keep Jay and his pretty little butt out of a prison cell for life.

-------

Jay clinks his champagne chute filled with juice to yours. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time Y/N.” The smile he sported hadn’t left his face since the judge acquitted him of any wrongdoing. “I swear my heart was in my throat the entire time,” he admitted.

Putting down his glass, Jay leans closer to you. “How‘d I get so lucky to have such a wonderful and capable lawyer as my protector?” His eyes boring into yours. It's then that you notice how his days of being holed up in prison during these last 7 months have taken a toll on him too.

Reaching up to cup his face, your thumb swipes over a small scar on his cheekbone—result of the worst fight he got himself into in his time in jail—he closes his eyes, committing the touch of your hand to memory.

“I’ve missed you Jay…”

He hums in accordance, worried that words might disrupt the peace he’s in at this current moment, being with you beats jail, no comparison at all.

“So…” You allow the peaceful silence to take over without finishing your thought. You’re unsure what to say, sure you’ve seen each other the past half year but being so close, actually being able to feel his presence with no lurking eyes, you’re not sure how to start making up for lost time.

“I think after all this you deserve a nice vacation.” He gazes into your eyes softly, hands holding yours interlocking your fingers together. “Wouldn’t you say? How does a nice long and relaxing trip sound? ...” His eyebrows raised in question.

“It sounds amazing…But”

“But?”

“Only if you’re coming with~”

“Obviously.” His lips upturn into a teasing grin. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily Y/N-shi~!”

❉ | Taglist: @yunthejin | ❉

[pursuitseternal]

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.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“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.”

[capgrqs]

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.!!!

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Between Objections

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: She left Nelson & Murdock to escape the chaos of the Castle case. She thought she was doing the right thing, putting herself on the side of justice. But fate—and Matt Murdock—had other plans.

She left Nelson & Murdock because of the Castle case.

The moment she saw Matt and Foggy take Frank Castle on as a client, she knew it would end in disaster. She had argued with them for days—about the ethics, about the optics, about the fact that Frank Castle was not just another client. He was a walking war zone. And while Matt had, as always, defended his stance with infuriating logic and moral high ground, she wasn’t buying it.

It had been the final straw. She left, took a job with the prosecutor’s office, convinced that she was putting herself on the right side of justice. But the irony wasn’t lost on her when she was assigned as the lead on the same damn case.

She hadn’t expected to go head-to-head with Murdock in court again. And she really hadn’t expected it to be on the Frank Castle case.

When she’d taken the job at the prosecutor’s office, she figured their rivalry would fade, that their verbal sparring would be nothing but a memory. But now, facing him across the courtroom, it was worse than ever.

Frank Castle sat on the witness stand, his expression unreadable as she stood before him, poised and professional, her legal pad clutched in her hands. Across the aisle, Matt sat at the defense table, his head slightly tilted, listening.

"Mr. Castle," she began, measured and firm, "you've admitted to killing over two dozen people. You’ve acknowledged that every single one of those deaths was intentional. Do you deny this?"

Frank exhaled sharply. "No."

"And yet, you expect this jury to believe that you acted out of necessity rather than malice?"

Frank’s lips pressed into a thin line. "I don’t expect them to believe anything. I expect them to know the truth."

She nodded, pacing slightly. "The truth being that you think the law doesn’t apply to you? That you can decide who lives and who dies?"

Matt leaned forward slightly. "Objection. Counsel is putting words in the witness’s mouth."

She didn’t hesitate. "I think Mr. Castle’s actions have already spoken for him."

The judge gave her a warning look, but allowed her to continue. She turned back to Frank. "Would you say you regret your actions?"

Frank's stare was cold, unwavering. "I regret that I didn’t get to them sooner."

A tense silence fell over the courtroom.

She took a slow breath, willing herself to remain steady. "No further questions."

She moved back to her seat, her heart still pounding, barely making eye contact with Matt. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her, the tension stretching between them like a taut wire. When he rose to begin his cross-examination, she braced herself.

"Mr. Castle," Matt began, his voice calm, collected, "You said you regret not getting to them sooner. Tell the court—who exactly are they?"

Frank’s jaw clenched. "The men who murdered my family. The ones who got away. The ones who still walk free."

"And do you believe the justice system failed you?"

"I know it did."

Matt turned toward the jury, his movements precise. "Ladies and gentlemen, you've just heard Mr. Castle admit that his actions were not out of some reckless disregard for life, but from a system that turned its back on him. He is not a murderer without reason—he is a man who has been left with no other options."

She clenched her jaw, fingers gripping her pen so tightly her knuckles ached. He was good. Too good. And he knew it.

"You can't justify this, Murdock," she muttered under her breath as he returned to his seat.

Matt barely turned his head. "Watch me."

The tension between them had sharpened, cut deeper, like a live wire sparking between every word exchanged. The trial was brutal—Castle was unpredictable, the case itself a mess—but somehow, the real fight felt like it was between them.

After one particularly heated session, she stormed out into the hallway, Matt close behind. "You’re impossible," she hissed, spinning to face him. "You twist everything, make it sound like I’m grasping at straws."

Matt, despite his usual calm, took a step closer. "I argue the law. If you’re losing, maybe that’s on you."

Her breath caught. He was too close, his voice low, almost daring. She should push him away, argue back. But the frustration, the tension—it wasn’t just anger. It was something else entirely.

"You—" Her voice faltered. His lips parted, and for a split second, neither of them moved.

Her hand clenched at her side, then lifted, fingers curling instinctively into a fist. The tension between them crackled, sharp and unrelenting, and for a moment, she imagined what it would feel like to let the frustration out the way she wanted—to throw a punch, to land it cleanly against his jaw, to win something between them for once.

But she hesitated. The weight of the courtroom still pressed against her, the heat of his breath too close, too steady. Her fingers uncurled, dropping back to her side as she exhaled sharply, eyes darting around like she could find an escape from whatever this was.

Then, before she could stop herself, she grabbed the front of his tie, yanking him forward. And he let her.

The moment their lips crashed together, the fight changed. It wasn’t about the courtroom, about Frank Castle, about winning or losing.

It was about this.

And as hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop getting involved with them. Every time she tried to draw a line between herself and Nelson & Murdock, something happened. An overlapping case, a shared witness, a complication that kept dragging her back into their orbit.

And of course, that was exactly when the elevator doors opened.

"Oh my God," Foggy’s voice rang out first, somewhere between horror and sheer amusement.

Karen made a sound that was suspiciously close to a giggle.

She pulled back immediately, pushing Matt away, face burning. "This isn’t—" she started, still standing far too close to him.

"Oh, please, continue," Foggy said, grinning like it was Christmas morning. "Don’t let us stop whatever... this is."

She let go of Matt as if he burned her, straightening her blazer with quick, precise movements. "This is nothing. His tie was crooked," she said flatly, looking between Karen and Foggy to see if they believed her. "Or untied. Something like that."

Karen raised an eyebrow, glancing at Matt before looking back at her. "Right. And I’m sure fixing it required that much... proximity."

Matt, of course, was infuriatingly composed. He adjusted his tie like he wasn’t just kissing her senseless in a courthouse hallway. "We were just discussing legal strategy."

Foggy snorted. "Right. You guys always argue with your faces that close together? Should I be worried about court-mandated PDA?"

She cleared her throat, willing the heat in her face to disappear. "It was—uh—situational."

"Situational," Karen echoed, nodding. "Right, right. Very lawyerly of you."

She glared at Matt, who looked far too amused. "Say something."

"I think they’ve covered it," he said smoothly, and God, she wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.

Preferably by kissing him again. Which was not going to happen.

Foggy slung an arm around her shoulder as they stepped into the elevator. "So, how long until you two start throwing legal briefs at each other in the middle of a trial?"

She groaned. "I hate all of you."

Eventually, it caught up to her. She got thrown off the Castle case after her superiors questioned her ties to Murdock and Nelson. Conflict of interest, they called it. She called it a waste of her time. And maybe, just maybe, it was a relief.

Because whether she wanted to admit it or not, she missed them. Even him.

[tsukimefuku]

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 🦉

[frickingnerd]

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!”