#best medical malpractice firm

[stalwartlawseo]

Birth Injury Cases: Fighting for Fairness from the Perspective of a Malpractice Lawyer

In cases involving birth injuries, Malpractice Attorneys are extremely important in ensuring their clients' rights are protected. The greatest birth injury attorneys in California are represented by these legal stalwarts who fight for justice. They are well-versed in the laws surrounding birth injuries and fight for victims' rights to compensation.

When it comes to situations involving birth injuries, malpractice lawyers are the first to fight for victims' rights. They are the backbone of the greatest birth injury law firms in California, fighting tirelessly for their clients' interests. The legal complexities of birth injuries can affect a person for the rest of their lives, therefore it's important to work with an experienced attorney.

These lawyers work closely with the top birth injury lawyers in California to develop strong cases, and they never miss a detail in their analysis. Their commitment extends far beyond the requirements of the law, as they show compassion for the victims' loved ones and work tirelessly to secure financial restitution on their behalf.

Malpractice lawyers typically have an in-depth understanding of the medical and legal complexities involved in birth harm litigation. These attorneys' unyielding dedication serves not only their clients' best interests, but also the wider cause of ensuring justice in cases involving birth injuries.

[perfinn]

translate your vibration

rugby player!soap mactavish x reader

wc: 3.1k

summary: you're a fieldside medic for a rugby league team and you care a bit too deeply for one of the players. he cares right back

cw: NSFW, f!reader, medical inaccuracies, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), johnny's face is covered in blood, medical malpractice too probably, semi-public sex, johnny is lowkey concussed so dubcon just to be sure (but he wants this trust)

special thanks to @kitkatscabinet for helping this come to be!

read on ao3, divider by saradika

“Ye come here often?”

It takes everything in you not to laugh at Johnny’s obvious attempt at flirting. Not because he’s misguided or the advances are unwanted– truly, you wouldn't mind at all in any other circumstance. Only right now, you’re trying to assess him for a concussion. That, and he’s still got his mouthguard in so paired with the blood dribbling from his nose, his words are a garbled slur. 

“Stop moving, Johnny,” you tell him, handing him another cloth to press to his bleeding nose– broken again, you’d wager. You’ll get to that in a moment. 

“‘Am no,” he mumbles, lifting his head when you tilt up his chin and giving you a charming grin. Even with the mouthguard and a twisted nose, he’s still the most handsome man on the team. Which, given your own penchant for beefy rugby-type men, is saying something. “Just askin’.”

“It's not helping your case, then,” you say, gripping his jaw tighter when he tries to move again. “Because you know good and well I come here often. I’m your medic.”

“ Mine ?” Johnny echoes with a somewhat-delirious chuckle. “Och, I’m lucky then, have ye all to maself.” 

You want to correct him, to tell him that you're technically the whole team’s medic, but you don't. You let him be, and instead reach to grab a light to check his pupils. He does manage to hold still as you shine it into his eyes, though he’s helped along by your firm grip on his jaw. His pupils react normally, but you’re still concerned. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask, taking a seat across from him as he finally spits out his mouthguard and presses the cloth to his nose. “Head pounding?”

“Aye,” he says, and you frown as you watch the cloth steadily soak with blood. “But it has just been knocked off my shoulders. ‘Am not seeing  two of you, if that's what you mean. Wouldn't be complainin’ if I were, mind you.”

You hum in response, seeming dubious. You suppose that's good, all things considered. Flirting aside, if he is concussed, it's not deeply serious. Still, you’re concerned. But you know Johnny. He loves to play, loves the game. And he’s one of the best players in the club. You glance behind you at the screen that's playing footage of the game, biting your lip. You can see how desperately Johnny wants to get back out there, he’s practically buzzing in his seat. So somehow, you’re going to have to break it to him that you’re keeping him off the pitch for at least the remainder of this half. Naturally, he’ll be a nuisance about it. Whine, complain, probably beg you to reconsider. Part of you doesn't want to deal with the guilty feeling those puppy dog eyes envokes. 

So, you stall. 

“And the nose?”

“Fuckin’ kills,” he confirms, lowering the rag and grunting in satisfaction when no more blood drips free. “Broken.”

“Again,” you sigh, moving to stand up again. The fact his nose has stopped actively bleeding does loosen the vice-like grip of worry that’s wrapped around your ribcage. He’s breathing okay too, which loosens it again. Still, though, it’s suffocating. 

(You shouldn't worry so much about Johnny. He’s been knocked around far more than you could ever handle and played through much worse. But you’re a bit selfish when it comes to Johnny… you care about him more than you ought to as a professional.)

“Cannae complain when it means I get to see ye,” Johnny says with a cheeky grin as you put your fingers to his nose. “I like it when ye dote on me.”

“You won't like me in a second,” you say. He laughs shortly, and you suppose that he assumes you’re talking about setting his nose. In a way, you are. But that's not why he’ll actually be miffed with you. He’d probably never be miffed about setting his nose anyway, he knows it's a necessary pain. 

You give him a smile, gently prodding at his twisted nose to get your hands in the right position, and you don't bother giving him a countdown. Instead, you break the news to him as quickly as you can manage as you snap the bone back into place, “I’m keeping you off.”

“ Fuck ! Yer what?!” Johnny rears back in his seat with the combined impact of the pain and the sudden information. You step back, wringing your hands together as he blinks harshly. You’re sure there’s dots in his vision from the pain, and once his head clears enough he’ll process what you’ve said. 

“Bonnie,” he says slowly after a moment. The sweet name makes your stomach twist in a strange anxious delight. “Tell me yer joking.”

You give him a sheepish smile, unmoving– and he knows you won't budge. He also knows how much his coach trusts you, and if you say he’s out, he’s out. His coach won’t put him back in if you say not to. But you know he’ll argue anyway. “Until the next half, at least. I need to keep an eye on you.”

Johnny groans deeply, sinking down in the chair. He growls your name, and you’re a tad ashamed to say it goes right to your core. 

“We’re only 20 minutes in, I’ll miss half the game! You cannae-”

“You’re staying off, Johnny,” you say firmly. When you’d started on as the Eels’ medic, you’d been a bit shier. But you’d learned quickly that these men were hardheaded in more ways than one, and being shy and timid would get you nowhere in enforcing their safety. So you took note from their coach and got tough with them. It earned you the respect you needed, and also the trust from their coach in knowing that you could handle them. “And you know I won’t be changing my mind. Now if you want to go back on at all, you’ll behave.”

This earns you another groan, but the growly tone of it says something entirely different than the last one. You feel your cheeks warm, and hope to god he doesn't notice. 

“Talkin’ dirty won’t make me forgive you, you ken,” Johnny says, knuckles pressed against his closed eyes. “Ye really won’t budge?”

“You know me better than that.”

“Aye, I do,” he sighs, dropping his hands and lowering his lidded gaze to you. “Lucky yer sweet talking me, lass. Wouldn't be so forgiving otherwise.”

It's not a threat meant to be taken seriously, you know. It's a threat that does something else entirely, but you hurriedly stand and clear your throat. Professionalism, you tell yourself. It's the backbone of your career. To be surrounded by hot, burly, virile men all day and not do anything about it is a god damn superpower. 

“Price will be as disappointed as you are, but he’ll let you watch from the bench-”

“‘Am no going out there,” he says, standing up with less hurry and far more care. Despite his protests, he is heeding your warnings and taking care with his head. “Can watch the game from in here. Got another way for us to pass the time.”

You stop as you’re turning toward the door, glancing back at him while he inches closer to you. “Johnny…”

You know exactly where he’s hoping to go with this. And as much as you want to – god, you want to – you truly can’t. You’d lose your job. Probably lose your licence if the powers that be were feeling extra annoyed by it, and absolutely shatter your reputation in the process. 

But then… that’s only if you get caught. There’s no security cameras in the locker rooms– there isn’t allowed to be. There’s 20 minutes left of the half, no one’s going to come in here until then. You could. You could do it, and be done with it before anyone notices.

(You’re obviously being intentionally naive in thinking you’d ever be satisfied with just one taste of Johnny, but for now it’s the only way you can rationalise it.)

“C’mon, bonnie.”

You turn back round to face him, bouncing a bit on your toes. “We’ll need to be quick.”

Johnny’s bloody and bruised face lights up with a toothy grin and he nods dutifully as he closes the distance between you both. He lifts his hand to place it on your cheek, his palm warm and rough against your skin. “Cannae tell ye how much I’ve thought about this.”

You laugh a bit, staring up at him. You don’t mind so much that he’s still a bit covered in his own blood. “This is so unprofessional.”

“Aye, it is.”

He doesn’t waste another second before he’s putting his mouth on yours, teeth clacking against yours with the desperation and intensity of his kiss. You hear yourself make a soft noise of surprise, or something akin to that. It’s hard to say, hard to organise your emotions when your brain only wants to focus on Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.  

He’s intoxicating. If being around him and simply being flirted with by him was as addictive as it was, actually kissing him, touching him beyond just treating his injuries, is heroin. He’s backing you up toward the lockers before you realise it, moving his hands from your cheeks down to your body. His hands explore you with no inhibitions, his rough hands squeezing at your tits. He groans into your mouth, pulling his lips away from yours to look down.

His forehead presses to yours as he takes in the sight of your body. Of course, you’re fully clothed and it’s nothing he’s never seen before, but it’s the fact that for this moment it’s his.

(Johnny is well aware that half his team wants you. Maybe more than half, but half of them had openly expressed it. While you’re gone, while they’re winding down in the locker room. But none of them could pull it off. None of them had seeped through the cracks in your professionalism and found their way into your pants. But Johnny had. He had barely even started with you, and he's already thinking about how he might gloat about it.)

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, bonnie,” he mumbles, pressing a short kiss to your lips. “Would love to take my time with ye.”

“Me too,” you breathe, arching into his touch as he gropes at your tits. “But we can’t.”

“Aye,” he says, a scowl creasing his bloodied face. “Bloody tragic. S’alright, lass, next time.”

Part of you wants to say there probably shouldn’t be a next time, which is true, but your brain is already surpassing its ability to form sentences– and the idea of denying yourself of more Johnny sounds like a nightmare right now. You can’t even entertain the thought, not while Johnny is pressing his bulge to your leg, groaning as he shamelessly ruts against your clothed thigh. 

“What d’you want, bonnie?” He asks, voice breathy, almost growling in your ear. “Tell me. I’ll give it to ye.”

You have to bite your tongue to prevent yourself from asking him to fuck you outright. You’re not entirely sure why you don’t say that, actually. Maybe it’s the time constraints, or maybe it’s his cock pressing against your thigh, but fuck, you want to taste it.

“Let me suck you off,” you demand unceremoniously. Johnny chuckles, likely at your commanding tone, but nods as he presses a kiss, then another, to your neck.

“Christ,” he says between heated kisses. He seems almost disappointed to let you sink to your knees, leaving his mouth unoccupied. He almost starts panting as he sees you stare up at him from your knees, reaching for the waistband of his shorts. “Yer fuckin’ perfect. Goan then, lass, then I’ll give that pretty pussy of yours the treatment it deserves after, yeah?”

Nodding along to his ramblings, you tug his shorts down and find yourself disappointed as you come face to face not with his cock, but with his compression shorts. The both of you groan, and Johnny almost tears them off in his desperation to remove them, cursing the shorts under his breath– you bite back the urge to remind him of the medical benefits of wearing them; besides, any thought you have is cut off by the sight of his cock, hard and leaky, springing free. 

It's beautiful, which is a strange thing to say about a cock, you know, but there's little else to describe such a pretty thing. You wrap your hand around the base, licking an appreciative stripe along the underside of it. 

“ Fuuuuck ,” Johnny groans, hand falling gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, but just resting there. “Good fucking girl.”

You take the head of him into your mouth, gazing up at him as you begin to take him deeper, bobbing your head along the length of him. Johnny’s head hits the wall as he moans freely, seemingly unashamed of the idea of being caught. He’s lost in the warmth of your mouth, and you can't much blame him, because you’re lost in the weight of his heavy cock on your tongue. 

Johnny’s eyes are lidded as he turns his gaze down to watch you, and you feel his thumb rub gently over the back of your head as you take him deeper, stopping about halfway down his length, and just stroking what you haven't fit. 

“S’alright, bonnie girl,” Johnny mumbles, voice low. “Dinnae have to take me all today, we’ll work at it, aye?”

His muttered promises make you moan, and that makes him moan. You go back to bobbing your head, the locker room filled with the lewd noises of your mouth. 

It doesn't take Johnny an exceptionally long time to start reaching his end, his hips twitching as he holds back on the urge to fuck right into your mouth. He has the self control to care for your comfort at least. 

“Gonna- fuck , lass, can I come in your mouth?”

Were it anyone else, or any other situation, you’d probably say no. But it's Johnny ; and right now the two of you can't exactly afford to deal with a mess. You hum your affirmative, and apparently the slight vibration of it is enough to have him coming. You see the muscles of his lower abdomen tense before you feel his hot release spill onto your tongue. You take every drop, even when it begins to feel a bit much. When his body relaxes and he leans back against the wall, you pull away and swallow, making Johnny groan lowly. 

“Perfect,” he praises, gently guiding you to stand before kissing you again. He licks into your mouth, tongue laving over your teeth like he’s trying to taste himself. Only as you lean to return the favour, he’s flipping the both of you around so your back is against the wall and he’s kneeling before you. 

“Promise is a promise,” he mumbles, tugging eagerly at your leggings. You can tell he’d love nothing more than to rip them from your body, but he exercises enough self control to just drag them down to your calves, your panties going along with them. 

The position isn't ideal, but Johnny’s enthusiasm isn't hindered. He spreads your legs as far as the leggings will allow, one thumb tugging your lips aside. He groans, leaning forward and inhaling deeply. His nose brushes against your clit and you whine, cheeks warming at the lewd gesture. 

“Johnny,” you urge, threading your fingers through his mohawk and tugging gently. Johnny moans. Then, he shuffles forward on his knees and presses his face between your thighs, dragging his tongue over your dripping pussy. 

One of his hands grabs at your thigh as he licks you, slurping desperately at your slickened cunt. Another tug at his mohawk draws his focus to your clit, which he sucks into his mouth with an appreciative groan. Even when he can't talk, Johnny is incredibly loud; there would be no hiding this from anyone listening outside the door. 

He sucks at your clit, hand moving from your thigh to slip a finger into your cunt, making you moan before you slap a hand over your mouth. Johnny’s eyes open, and his eyebrows furrow. 

He pulls away, despite your whined protest, and takes a short breath. “Lemme hear ye, lass,” he encourages. “Don't hide from me.”

“Johnny,” you begin to protest, cutting yourself off with a gasp when he eases another finger into you and curls them right against a spot that has a loud moan falling from your parted lips. 

“That’s my girl,” he praises, ducking right down to graze his teeth over your clit.

His mouth combined with his rough fingers is driving you mad, making you squirm in place as pleasure begins to sear the ends of your nerves. 

“ Johnny !” You cry, head banging against the wall as your orgasm hits you without warning or much buildup at all. It feels as though it's been punched out of you, making your body tense and tremble for a few good seconds, mind floating miles above your body. 

When you return to earth, Johnny has pulled his fingers from your pussy and has them in your mouth, his nose pressed against your clit as he ruts his hips against his hand. You're entranced watching him rub himself through the overstimulation, fingers in his mouth and bruising nose in your pussy. It's only a few more moments before Johnny spills into his fist, a guttural groan muffled by your cunt. 

He sighs, pressing a loving kiss to your pussy. Then, he pulls back, face shiny with your slick, and looks up at you, grinning lopsidedly. “Alright, bonnie?” He asks, like he hasn't just jerked himself to a second orgasm on his own. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, words like laughter. “Are you?”

He nods, shuffling awkwardly to his feet and looking at the mess on his hands. Pants still around his knees, he shuffles over to your medical supplies and gets himself a tissue, wiping his hand off before tugging up his shorts. 

He returns to you, who’s struggling to stand, and gently tugs your pants up for you. He kisses you, softer and sweeter than before, and smiles against your lips. “Ye were perfect, bonnie.”

You hum, shifting your legs so that your underwear doesn't press wrong against your oversensitive cunt. 

The door opens before you can respond, and the first person inside is Johnny’s coach, John Price. The two of you must have somehow missed the siren in the heat of your joint pleasure. The bearded man takes in the scene of the two of you standing so close, and the slick on Johnny’s flushed face, and a heavy sigh leaves his lungs. 

“Fucking hell, MacTavish.”

[robolvrr]

medical malpractice. ‿⁠✷｡

pharma x human! gn reader.

warnings: medical play. sharp objects. temporary blindness/sensory play.

nsfw under the cut. this is a bit darker but this is pharma we are talking about here. not enough of this rat on my feed.

"are you sure ratchet isn't available?"

the cooling bulbs shine bright in your eyes and you itch the sleeves of your uniform, gaze wavering between the flawlessly polished floors and an elaborate monitor with a screen that easily dwarfed you lengthwise.

the fucker doesn't speak for an uncomfortable five seconds. you are convinced he purposefully does this just to have the pleasure of your wariness wither.

"yes, my dear. he has far more pressing matters than a simple organic check-up. i do apologize if my cycles of experience in this profession is.. lacking for your standards."

his back is all you see when your face twists, mouth slack as you struggle to seek a response.

sarcasm must be a species thing. almost every cybertronian on this ship seems to have a snippy remark.

"it's not that."

you don't know how to describe it. pharma is sardonic and precise. the crew members don't seem to have too negative of an opinion as his performance precedes his mannerisms.

when he first laid optics on you, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head that itched.

he did not share the warmth of his companions. granted, it was not as if you were adored by all mechs — plenty still had their reservations of allowing such an easily harmed creature aboard on a personal journey that they could not even hope to relate to.

however, unlike the other medics, you felt trapped under his leer. vivisected no matter the layers of insulation and nylon hiding flesh that blazed under unrelenting attention.

he never strayed far from your thoughts after that introduction. you can hear his croon at night and see those genuine, icy stares when you close your eyelids to toss and turn to sleep.

he's dangerous.

no one shows to share your beliefs. you don't speak of them out of fear of alienation. he triggers your survival instincts so strongly it starts to make you angry, because he hadn't done anything to warrant the disapproval.

he's a voyeur to your discomfort. sooner or later, you learn his subtle language and realize he's pleased.

you make efforts to avoid him. it's easy, given your skills don't overlap with his duties. you're just an engineer and more than half of the technology they possess is outside your education. you forget about his stalking frame and find members that treat you nice, treat you gentle.

this very situation is nightmarish.

"distracted, little dove?"

a yelp leaves your lips. his helm is eerily close and his smug smile remains firm on his dermas. you're so alarmed you don't notice the velcro round a forearm until he clasps the straps, tight.

the iv bag is clear. you breathe shakily.

"please keep in mind i do have your best interests in consideration."

"... just get on with it, doctor."

he hums, doesn't react to the bite. his digits graze your elbow. when did he yank up your sleeve? goosebumps freckle up your skin and he pinches.

consideration. the gravity of that word sinks in the pit of your gut. too easy to miscontrue.

"i understand your.. unease. alone, far from home, far from your own kind. under the scrutiny of what you cannot predict."

the medical stretcher slowly creaks back. the rusty pop of cogs startled you. a giant light nearly hides his calm demeanor, just the shadow of himself and a halo of sterile white behind him.

the electricity sparkling in your veins runs blood hot. faint beeping climbs in measure — you assume the thumping pattern of your heartbeat is what that is.

suddenly, your mouth is coaxed open.

metal - tool and him - slide across your tongue in a practiced sweep. it clinks against your canines and molars, scraping inner cheek until you feel just shy of pink, sticky sinew shredding.

a swab is after. it isn't rough but far from tender. this is no lollipop ending appointment and you become faintly aware of a chemical stench starting to waft around your vicinity.

"healthy. teeth all accounted for. funny, how these bones work. brainstorm had spoken to me about ah, what is it called for you. cavities. fascinating, your inner workings aren't close in nature and yet it can poison you, just by chance. find that small, plump heart and send it right into failure."

this conversation tinges dreadful again. you make a protesting noise that careens into a groan before he shushes you, sifting through equipment. having him in your mouth has your jaw throb sore.

"yes, yes, i know, keep it quick. while we are on the subject of brainstorm however i want to be frank. he has assisted me in creating a method to better examine your parts. you're just so.. fragile. small. i would hate to hurt you."

".. and what exactly does that entail?", you whisper dubiously, twitching at the thought of anything from brainstorm being near you in a ten mile radius.

he laughs.

"well", you blink and he is still difficult to see with all the lights and proximity, something wet and slimy dropping in both of your eyes. you squirm with a gasp and go to rub out of nature. he stops you.

"it's difficult to explain on your terms. but it's dropped into your eyes. microscopic cameras are effortlessly mixed with the solvent. it'll adapt to the shape. almost like a thin casing. it connects to my screen aaaand.."

you can't see. confusion driving the monitor to grow louder and louder.

"you put fucking cameras in my eyes? wh— what?! i can't fucking see! does ratchet know-"

"ratchet is not here. i suggest you find your bearings before you scare yourself to death, dear."

he sounds unapologetic. you fully drift to panic and think about the crawling sensation around sclera, unsure where your imagination and reality separate.

pharma sounds distant. this very room is almost closing in and your senses heighten in natural hopes to extend your survival.

his voice is charming and thick with something you can't identify. whispers hot in your ear. a cut has been made.

"excellent, little one."

this is torture.

one by one, the pain of an incision you can't even detect when it was sliced sutured with practical movements. unwoven, stitched again. you start to huff.

thumb catches moisture. you hear a rumble and it isn't the ship engines, it's him.

"just what else can the human body do?"

your throat closes up.

"how much could you take, hm? i simply want to know. there is no... allure of a broken body. perhaps in a dream. perhaps in my fantasies."

in and out, you fade. body trembling, hair sweaty on your forehead. he is an issue you cannot solve.

"perhaps, perhaps."

------------------------

"how did the examination go?"

ratchet doesn't pull from his work. the gruffness and bitter edge you have learned to navigate and know his inquiry is made out of concern, not forced.

"i... fine, i think. i can't remember."

ratchet keeps working, though his pace has slowed.

"... mm."

[artdcnaldson]

medical MALPRACTICE 💜

theater kid conversation and gyno art conversation got me thinking about dr pommader from waitress…. aaurrr art, your pretty gynecologist, who you try your best not to look at too much during appointments bc you’re afraid you’ll get wet and he’ll obviously be able to see…

you’ve been seeing him more recently bc you and your bum ass husband are trying for a baby, but nothing is happening. your husband is convinced it’s your fault, so you go to dr. donaldson (art, as he insists you call him) to run some fertility tests. when you tell him what’s going on you swear you can see his eye twitch when you mention your husband blaming you. the exam is…… charged. he takes extra care with you, his gloved fingers gentle but firm, definitely lingering longer than they need to as he talks you through what he’s doing. he’s always been so easy going and he still is, but there’s an authoritative edge to his voice as he massages your gummy walls to “relax the tissue” so he can take samples for the tests. he asks you exactly what you’ve been doing to try for a baby… asks you describe positions that you’ve been trying… you blush and tell him it’s nothing but missionary in the dark for you and your husband. you see that little eye twitch again. he tells you that some positions are more optimal for it to take, offers to show you how to get into them. you end up on his table with him bending and stretching you into different positions, one with your chest down and your ass up with your thighs squeezed together, another on your back with one of your legs hiked over his shoulder. he maintains that he’s just demonstrating for you, but you’re both throbbing with need under your clothes. you can feel how hard he is in his scrubs, but you don’t mind even a little bit. you wish he’d fuck you right here on this table and he’s thinking the same exact thing.

you leave dazed and more horny than you think you’ve ever felt in your life. and if he schedules your follow up for after all his nurses and receptionists leave so it’s just you and him when he tells you you’re more than fertile and your husband is the problem… that’s nobody’s business but yours and his <33

MOANED AND DIED

God... you show up to the follow-up wearing a pretty little sundress (because it's easy to take on and off for any exams, of course! no other reason). You wear your hair really nice, do your makeup, leave your wedding ring in your car.

You always knew it was going to be your husband that was the problem. The news doesn't shock you as much as it makes the resentment that was building in the pit of your stomach boil over. Fuck your husband. Fuck your unhappy marriage. Fuck his insistence that a baby could fix something that neither of you really even wanted anymore.

"I do have another... I guess, like, problem," you say suddenly, before the 'appointment' ends and you have to go home to the shitty deadbeat waiting for you.

Art nods, brows furrowed in concern. He's a good doctor, he really is, even if he's definitely passed the threshold of a normal doctor/patient relationship.

"I just... I'm having trouble getting wet, when I'm with my husband." You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and let your words sink in. "Just... maybe you can just check and make sure nothing's wrong with me?"

That's how you wind up back on the table, feet in stirrups, gloved hands sliding your panties down your thighs. You shiver in the cold of examination room, goosebumps pebbling your flesh.

"Can I touch you?" He asks. His voice is barely above a whisper, gravelly with need, but it's so loud in the quiet of the close space.

"Yeah." The words escape you on an exhale, and you see the ghost of a smile on his lips as he moves his hands higher. You gasp as his gloved hand moves along the seam of your pussy, tracing the seam of you from your entrance to your clit.

His free hand rubs along your thigh— comforting, soothing. When you relax your thighs, he smiles. "There we go," he practically coos. "Just relax for me. I just need to check something."

His thumb rubs over your clit and you gasp. It wasn't a lie when you said you couldn't get wet for your husband, but with Art? It was fucking easy. You feel your body responding in earnest, cunt pulsing with need, dripping for him.

"See? You're perfect," his fingers tease over your entrance, collecting the arousal that pools there. "Your body works just like it needs to, for the right person."

[milfs-milk]

THE BEST MEDICINE [18+]

CHAPTER TWO - TREATMENT [MINORS DNI]

[CHAPTER ONE] [PAIRING] Trafalgar Law x Reader [SUMMARY] Law has ruled out your symptoms, diagnosing the effects of a potent aphrodisiac. As your doctor, he carries out a more thorough examination and follows with much needed treatment. [CONTENT + WARNINGS] AFAB Reader, Reader has breasts, Aphrodisiacs, Pining, Desperation, Teasing, Medical Examination, Medical Malpractice, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority (Captain/Subordinate and Doctor/Patient), Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Rough Sex, Dumbification, Begging, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Oral Fixation, Creampies, Dacryphilia, Oral Sex [WORD COUNT] 7.4k

“Stay still.”

As Law’s subordinate, naturally, you want to obey. When it came to your Captain, there wasn’t much reason to resist. Trust became unwavering throughout the years of being under his command, and loyalty ran deep enough to border devotion. Even off duty, Law’s voice alone has you bound in a tight grip. The hypnotizing rumble bends your will to his, a spell cast upon you as you struggle to just stay still, but you can’t stop yourself from squirming.

It’s an instinctive response. Fully undressed, you feel an urge to writhe in both nerves and need as you lay on the examination table in Law’s medical room. Upon his request, you stripped, your doctor insisting clothes would only get in the way of your treatment. He didn’t need to tell you twice. Though part of you is nervous, you’re more eager than anything. Your only concern is fixated on relieving the tension between your thighs.

Still, there’s a vulnerability that can be felt. It’s as if you’re placed under a microscope, the bright fluorescent lights overhead painting out your body in a clear and intimate image. Law peers down at you. He snaps on a pair of latex gloves, slim fingers slowly wiggling into place. You can almost feel his golden eyes burning into your skin, leisurely trailing from your flushed face to your bare breasts and down to soft thighs, squished together in desperation. Despite the natural embarrassment from the exposure, something about the glint in his gaze tells you there’s no reason to be insecure.

Just the way he looks at you is enough to incite your lustful hunger, greedy for a taste of indulgence. Your fists ball at your sides as you resist the urge to touch yourself. The effects of the aphrodisiac have only intensified upon Law’s offer to relieve your symptoms, the few minutes that have passed feeling unbearably stretched. The chill of the sterile room doesn’t cool the dewy sweat that coats you, your body heated from a flaming desire that borders nymphomania. There’s only so much you can take. Impatient for his treatment, you call out for him. The breathless whimper begs him to begin.

“Captain—“

“Behave.”

His immediate interruption comes out as a warning. There’s no exact background as to what behaving entails, and there doesn’t need to be. Though your mind is dulled, clouded by the fog of an aching passion, you can still sense your Captain’s expectations. The edge to his voice is a straightforward demand telling you to shut your mouth and stay still. In a thick haze, there’s no urge for opposition, no ego wanting to snap back, no interest in the consequences. Need runs too deep to risk prolonging your treatment any more than you have to.

As you look up at Law in a silent plea, his firm eyes suggest he’s testing you. It’s an assessment of your discipline, an evaluation of how dedicated you are to his strict word and promised touch. You find yourself in an internal struggle. Your pent up body begs for some kind of stimulation, a living toy eager to be played with, but even so, you know your manners. Docile, you obey.

“The rest of the examination starts now,” Law says, standing at your side as you lay on the exam table. He looms over you, his tall frame casting a shadow on your figure, making you feel the weight of his intense presence. Piercing eyes are aimed downwards to meet your own. “I’m going to press my hands against parts of your body, and you’re going to tell me where you feel the most sensitive. Do you understand?”

You nod your head frantically, eyes lighting up at the mere thought of his hands on you. He’s direct about it, leaving no room for misunderstanding. There’s a detached quality of practiced ease to his words, carrying an objectivity that made it seem as if this was just another operation. And yet, there’s also an air of possession in the room. His controlling demands teeter ownership.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The honorific slips from your mouth like second nature. It’s a reminder that his hold on you is nothing new, the title repeated countless times before while under his command. The only difference is context. ‘Captain’ is a term meant to display professionalism. It shouldn’t sound as filthy as it does tumbling from your lips. Though as you lay naked, intimately displayed like you belong to him, the word has a different feel to it, carrying a deeper level of obedience and dedication. It seems to please him. A satisfied grin paints his features for a moment.

“Good.”

Law begins his evaluation, first putting his hand on yours. You knew his touch would come, but expectation doesn’t make the contact any less electrifying. The voltage that radiates from his body is conductive with yours, shocking your arm as it involuntarily jolts upwards. Law’s fingers close in on your hand, clutching with slight pressure. The firm gesture acts as a silent reminder to stay still.

It’s a demand that’s becoming increasingly difficult to obey. Squirming is a tempting impulse, sensitivity and anticipation blending in a way that makes even a simple touch sexually stimulating. Your body wants to react, to fidget with twists and turns in a needy display for more, but Law’s adamant. A whimper emits from your throat, bottom lip shakily curling upwards in a pout. Still, you relax for him. Tense muscles release as you slip your eyes shut.

Law continues. A slow finger begins to trace the lines of your palm, moving along your skin with clinical precision. Your hand twitches in ticklish pleasure, the sensation oddly enjoyable. He trails upwards. Purposefully mapping the veins along your wrists and forearms, it almost seems as if he’s committing you to memory. His deliberate movements carry an attention to detail that you didn’t expect, making you wonder if your heart is supposed to be fluttering.

Though a barrier of gloves separates true touch, his gestures still feel somewhat tender. Despite the sexual intent of the examination, Law doesn’t limit his study to naturally sensitive body parts. Instead, you find he’s decided on something more involved, more immersive, beginning with casual movement to perform a thorough evaluation. It’s unnecessary, but not unwelcome. He pays close attention to his patient, actions intimate in a distant way.

Law takes his time. The latex of his glove continues to travel along your arm, three fingers moving up. His hand settles onto your shoulder with a squeeze that just wanted to see how you'd react. The experimental touch makes you arch your neck and crane it to the opposite side, sensitive and expectant. Skin bared to him, your throat bobs with a deep swallow. Law sees it as an invitation. Wordlessly, he moves to your neck, thumb shifting to your jugular. A few motionless seconds pass before you realize he’s checking your pulse.

“Your heart rate has increased.”

You can hear it. Your surroundings are drowned out by a rapid beat thumping against the plate of your chest. It was as if he took a shot of adrenaline and pumped it straight into your veins, meticulous ministrations fueling an intense exhilaration that pulses throughout your bloodstream. You wonder for a brief moment if he wanted you to squirm, teasing and testing, exploring your thresholds just to see you writhe underneath his touch and struggle to obey his word.

Law’s hand slithers up your neck, silencing your thoughts. He firmly grips your jawbone, his golden eyes narrowed in a way that makes your body shiver and breath hitch. It’d be a dangerous grasp had it been anybody else, but you know that you're in good hands with Law, that he won't let anything happen to you. Care is apparent in the way his hand loosens, beginning to cradle your chin in a way that almost feels affectionate in juxtaposition to what was a teasingly tight grip. You feel a gentle thumb slide across your lips and hear a low voice give another demand.

“Tell me how you feel.”

You don’t respond with words. You’re not too sure if you can. Though the scene has calmed since the frantic rutting you did before Law commanded you to strip and lay, you’re still in the first stage of mind break. The aphrodisiac affecting your cognition in a slow and sensual way is nothing new, but now that you finally feel Law’s touch, it only contributes to your heated stupor. Despite any attempts to hold on to your thoughts, they slip away with each movement of his hand. It leaves you with nothing but a single yearning for more.

Your mouth opens. You want to respond, to obey his every wish and make him proud, but the words just won’t come out. Instead, you act on instinct. It speaks for itself. Upon feeling his thumb against your parted lips, you experience a sudden urge to take it into your mouth, wrapping yourself around the bitter latex with a swirling tongue. It’s a motion of desire, of desperation, a silent way to display how much he’s wanted and a whorish method of asking for more. As your heavy eyes meet his, you find the wordless answer has him entertained. He speaks for you.

“Needy.”

It’s not like he minds. You almost feel as if he encourages it, replacing his thumb with an index finger to properly prod inside your mouth. Tracing over soft gums and sharp teeth, you realize only then how much oral stimulation seems to please you. Your body’s sensitivity isn’t limited to the exterior. Heightened awareness of the pressure, texture and taste of his gloved finger invokes a warm satisfaction. When you whine around him in suggestive pleasure, Law’s motions become more experimental. He studies a gasping mouth, pulling at the side of your cheek as your tongue slips out and laps up any stray strands of spit.

In a perverted test to see how much you can take, he adds his middle finger and begins to dig down. Imagination fuels you. You slip your eyes shut and picture your lips around his cock, the image encouraging you to take his fingers in deeper. Aiming to impress, you allow him to explore your mouth as he sees fit. He isn’t gentle with it, no longer holding back. His fingers reach as far as they can until you feel tears beginning to bead at your eyes when he touches the back of your throat. Reflex takes over, a lewd gag forced out of you before Law pulls away. Your mouth tingles from his absence. A strand of saliva keeps you connected for just a moment longer.

“Eager,” he notes to himself, casually focusing his attention elsewhere. You’re in a daze from his manhandling, stuck in the thrill of your Captain practically fucking your mouth with his fingers, but he doesn't give you a moment to recover. Your already labored breaths become shallow as his touch draws along your collarbone. It prompts you to watch, eyes casted downwards while he travels dangerously lower. You whimper at the realization of his intent.

Law had been dancing around what you truly needed, touch teetering the edge but never pushing you over. His actions so far have been indirect, poking and prodding just to fuel the fire of desire until you’re thoroughly melted. The promise of relief hangs heavy in the air, making you feel like a starved dog with a slab of meat just inches away from its face. Reduced to a pet, you’d jump through flaming hoops for him, knowing reward isn’t too far away. And yet, despite expectation and steady build up, nothing can prepare you for the surge of pleasure upon feeling Law’s hand close in on your breast.

You jolt, hips involuntarily bucking up towards him in a moment of euphoria. The gentle precision in his touch has disappeared, but his attentiveness remains. Watching each reaction, Law handles you without restraint, determining how much his patient can take. A wet thumb slides across your nipple, leaving a cool trail before he takes the sensitive nub between his fingers. Law’s request to stay still sticks with you through the rush. Immediately halting your motions, you suppress overstimulation into a mewl.

“Responsive,” he adds, a clinical tone practically mocking your lewd noises. Law nonchalantly feels you up. He gropes, proving his words true in the way you whimper. He supplies an abundance of lack and excess, fully aware that each movement he makes is too much and not enough. The moment feels stilled and rushed at the same time, your body wanting to draw out every touch while simultaneously begging him to hurry and go further.

It almost feels like a game, toyed with by being bent until you break, and you let him. Upon being granted and given the attention you’ve craved for years, you find yourself wanting him to play with you as he pleases—to take you, to satisfy your pleasure and use you for his own, to push you to the brink and bring you up again just to sink his teeth back into your throat.

And really, he’s in the process, but patience has no hand in desire. Not with the way he tests it, wrapping you around his finger at arm's length. Caught in a sensual oblivion, delirious off an intense ache, you find you can’t take his teasing anymore. In a need for more and a plea for mercy, you start to whine.

“Please…” you begin, with no idea how to end.

Law understands.

“You’re doing well, staying still for me like this,” he tells you, a sense of giddiness tickling your chest upon his praise. You almost feel as if he’s comforting you as his hand trails down in a promise. The slow motion stops sooner than you’d like, his touch settling flat against your lower belly. Law’s voice becomes a purr for a soft second.

“You’ve always been able to obey.”

It’s a sentiment that makes everything still, if only for a moment. His brief reflection reminds you of your relationship with him, of everything before and beyond the heated present. The reality actualizes in your mind that the two of you are really here doing this—a Captain and his subordinate, a doctor and his patient, the code of professionalism between them warping into indecency. Beyond the aphrodisiac’s influence, you wonder what may come tomorrow.

This could be the start of something more, you think to yourself distantly. Whether that be a future of intimacy or heartache, you aren’t sure. All you know is that there’s no turning back. Even if given a dozen chances, you’re certain you wouldn’t take them. Despite the potential fallout of such indiscretion, the moment feels natural and right. There’s a sense of inevitability upon freeing your years of yearning, as if desire was bound to crumble underneath its own weight and fall into Law’s hands.

Though it’s uncharted territory, mutual trust and unspoken understanding brings certainty, allowing you both to indulge in one another comfortably. You surrender yourself to him with ease. Looking up as you feel one of Law’s hands settling onto your thigh, your eyes meet his. He gives another command, as if to prove his previous words.

“Now spread.”

It comes easily to you. Bent knees and closed thighs drift apart, the chill of the room sensitive against your heat. An abundance of pheromones emits. The aphrodisiac flowing through your blood radiates a purely sexual chemistry. An animalistic sharp-sweet scent cuts through the air, blending with the soft fragrance of your shampoo, brought out by your sweat. It reeks of desperation.

You look down. Your clit is swollen, a cherry atop plush lips, flushed a rosy pink. You can’t quite see it, but you can feel the extent of your slick, glistening like you had already been fucked and were dying for another round. A warm wetness trickles onto the thin paper of the examination table beneath you.

“You’re making a mess,” Law tsks. Neither of you care. His hand, still planted on your lower belly, trails down further. Goosebumps pebble your skin upon his light touch, sensitive nipples tightly peaked, hips twitching upwards despite your best efforts to remain still. Your hands clutch at the sides of the examination table, attempting to hold yourself in place as your heart pounds with anticipation.

When long fingers come in contact with your pulsating cunt, the obscene noise you make sounds broken. He’s barely touching you, simply spreading your lips apart, but desperation has you impossibly responsive. Reflex makes your back curl, though Law’s quick to keep you under control. His other hand moves to press at your abdomen, holding you down as a stern warning. You look towards him in a plea, but his eyes are elsewhere. Fixated between your thighs, a faint smile tinges his face, borderline sadistic as he looks on in amusement.

“Tell me how much you need it.”

He harbors a twisted interest. Indulging in personal entertainment, perversion leaks through your patient-doctor relationship as Law’s requests become more and more unprofessional. The front of medical concern is no longer there, stripped to the raw dynamic of Law in control and you at his mercy. In the palm of his hand, he seems to take pride in the way he ruins you, ripping apart everything that needs to be torn.

It’s sick, and it’s addictive. You can’t help but revel in the corrupt thrill of it all, the depraved authority fueling your own degeneracy as Law’s power over you deepens and darkens. Greedy for more, you’d be immediate to comply with his demand if your voice came to you quick enough. Even when you gather it with a thick swallow and open your mouth to speak, he has you choking your words back down.

“I—Fuck… ” you swear, breath hitching as a gloved finger slides downwards, prodding and teasing as he slowly traces circles along your opening. Pushing you to your limits, Law knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s enjoying it. Arousal is apparent. A bulge tents at his jeans, the thick shape fueling imagination and promising satisfaction. You take it personally, allowing yourself to believe that your pleasure contributes to his own, and that maybe, just maybe, these feelings for each other are familiar to him like they are to you.

“You know I need it.” I've always needed it, you refuse to add. The aphrodisiac isn’t the only source of your longing, years of tension and restraint bringing an urgency that begs for relief. Frustration bubbles up, leaving you unable to hold back the impatient edge to your strained voice. Law’s movements stop. He looks at you with a narrowed gaze, wordlessly telling you to watch your tone. Underneath his glare, you tighten around nothing. Needy tears well up in your eyes.

“Please,” you hiccup, part in apology, part in frantic desire. “Please. I can’t take it. I need you, I need you, I need you—“

Your whines are cut off by a sharp squeal of a moan, utter desperation ringing throughout the room as Law suddenly slips in a finger. He slides in effortlessly, your pussy slick enough to have him burying himself knuckles deep with ease despite how much you clench around him. Lightly, Law pushes upwards, applying addictive pressure to a wall of sensitive nerves.

It’s as if he knew how you’d react. Taking advantage of the way your mouth falls open in a keen, Law moves his other hand to shove his fingers between your lips. “We can’t have anyone hearing you,” he justifies, effectively cutting off your debauched moans. The suppression of noise manages to make you sound even more lewd, the muffled whimpers giving off a pathetic vulgarity. Still, it’s quiet enough for only him to hear, and it seems that’s all Law wants.

Three saliva slicked fingers reach for the back of your throat, and you welcome the intrusion. The sensitivity inside your mouth hasn’t subsided. Your tongue and gums tingle as Law pushes deep, stifled whining punctuated by wet gagging. You wrap your lips around him to keep you in your place, delightfully submissive. Contentment envelops you upon being filled with Law’s fingers. Both your drooling mouth and slick cunt eagerly tighten around him.

He begins to pump in and out of your heat, a wetness audible with each thrust of his hand. He keeps a slow pace. Steady and precise, Law’s movements are dedicated to your pleasure. Though the euphoria is blinding, you can still feel his eyes on you, making you distantly notice the way he works in rhythm with each reaction you give. Law stays attentive, determined to give you everything you need.

There’s no longer any teasing or testing. It’s now a direct, unending, pure bliss he provides, his detailed care consuming you from within. Knuckles whiten as you continue to clutch the sides of the examination table, hips involuntarily jutting upwards every few seconds. It’s clear you’re overwhelmed and oversensitive, but Law doesn’t stop. A thumb makes contact with your throbbing clit, rubbing and circling, supplying nothing but ecstasy.

And yet, it’s not enough. Though Law works at you expertly, your need only mounts. The heat pooling in your gut boils, threatening to overflow with liquid pleasure, but release doesn’t come. Desperately reaching for satisfaction, you feel it inch away further, demanding for more to be given. You want all he can offer, all you can take.

Manic with insatiable desire, you feel your hand rising somewhere along his treatment. Shaky fingers wrap around Law’s wrist, silently asking him to let you speak. He complies. His slick digits slip out of your mouth, your spit and drool blending together to trickle down your sensitive neck. Throat sore, your voice comes out hoarse and uneven, dripping with desperation as your teary eyes plead.

"More."

Law knows exactly what you’re asking for, and for a moment, you wonder if he craves the same. He acts immediately upon hearing the single word, a simple whimper that begged to be fucked seeming to set off something within him. Law pulls his fingers out of your dripping heat, taking off his gloves and carelessly tossing them into a nearby bin. You feel impossibly empty from his absence, but he doesn't give you the opportunity to question before he asserts another demand.

“Up,” Law growls.

He doesn’t wait for you to obey, grabbing your hands with a tight grip to force you upright. It seems he’s hit his limit. Once purposeful movements have become greedy, eager actions driven by fervor. Law was always a patient man, maintaining a calm and controlled demeanor in most situations. Though as you look into his eyes, fixated on your body with hunger, you’re reminded even someone as composed as your Captain can cave to lust’s breaking point. Sharing his ache, you yield to his every whim, allowing him to handle you as he pleases.

He acts with a sense of urgency, yanking you into a seated position to encourage you to stand. You try. Bare feet hit the cold floor, palms on the examination table for leverage. As you rise, you quickly realize your legs are too weak to support you, quivering with the weight of anticipation and desire.

Law takes care of it.

“Room.”

His fingers splay out as a faint blue surrounds you, the sphere swirling and expanding past the walls of the medical room. You stare at its alluring aura for a loopy moment. With the aphrodisiac’s sensuality, you find yourself captivated by the mesmerizing beauty of his devil fruit despite the faint confusion of its use. A second passes before Law’s satisfied with its range, his hand turning upwards.

“Shambles.”

With a blink, you land on a bed. You’re dizzy despite being seated, the disorientation of teleportation amplified in your dazed state. It takes a moment for your senses to come back into focus. You recognize the dim lighting and scatter of books as Law’s room. He’s teleported himself along with you, standing at the foot of the bed, not wasting a moment before he climbs on top to pin you down. Excitement wells up within you, your chest erupting with a perverse jolt upon piecing together his intentions.

We shouldn’t be doing this, you think to yourself, reaching to unbutton Law’s shirt with rushed movements. But god, if the thought of burning together isn’t seductive—to step into the flames of risk, to be set ablaze with desire, to melt together in pleasure. The two of you light each other up, abandoning all restraint, leaving formality smoldering. Perhaps you can raise something out of the inevitable ashes.

You could worry about it. You could wonder if the passion will last beyond this moment, and you could debate whether or not this was simply Law’s duty as your doctor treating your condition, or if there was an underlying desire beneath his actions, but you can’t find it in yourself to ponder the risks and technicalities. All you know is what you feel—chosen. As the two of you sinfully indulge in each other, there’s a simplicity to it all. You have him, and he has you.

Perhaps that’s all that matters.

Thoughts become static as Law tosses his shirt to the side and continues to undress above you. You let out a shaky sigh of admiration, taking a moment to drink him in. Every part of him is intoxicating. Your eyes devour him shamelessly, starting with his plush lips before straying to the tendons of his neck, down to the soft swell of his chest muscles, tracing along the definition of his abs and settling on gawking at his sizable bulge. Tattooed fingers manipulate his belt buckle, coming undone until you can see his boxers.

Law pauses. He looks at you in a way that asks for confirmation, to be certain this is what you want. In truth, you couldn’t ask for anything more. It’s been what you’ve wanted for years, a depraved craving and debauched fantasy finally becoming tangible, just within arm’s reach. Fulfillment is a word away.

“Please,” you encourage, voice hushed and desperate.

It’s all he needs.

He's big. Upon pulling his boxers off, Law's cock pops out with a slight bounce. It's flushed pink with want, his tip a deeper red, the shaft thick and heavy. You were already aware of what looked like an impressive length just through the tent bulging from his clothes, but despite expectation, he still has you practically drooling at the sight. You can almost feel your pupils dilate. Your lips part in admiration, a warmth filling your cheeks. Something about the way you look at his cock makes it twitch.

Law begins to reposition himself. Still on top of you, he moves upwards, making you lay fully on your back as he straddles you, his knees at either side of your chest. Inches away from your face, you can feel his length radiating a slight heat. The sight of him brings you to a state of near hypnosis. Spellbound with an urge to please and provide, you take him into your hand and give his cock a slow pump. A droplet of precum beads at the swollen head, and you lick it away with a sideways swish of the tongue. You shiver with oral sensitivity, relishing in Law’s bitter-salt taste and the faint, pent up throbbing beneath your palm.

"Get it wet for me," he orders. The provocative demand erupts a thrill within you, your cunt pulsating in expectation and imagination, making you determined to obey and be rewarded.

But mostly, you just want him in your mouth. It opens on its own as you act without thought, slick lips wrapping around his tip. Your tongue swirls around him and massages what seems to be a particularly sensitive spot at the underside of his cock, right beneath the head. Law breathes out above you, deep and heavy, relaxed and content like he’s releasing days worth of tension. His hand moves, roughly fisting your hair to pull you towards him. Encouraged to sink down, you swallow half his length at once. Your eyes flutter shut in bliss as you feel his cock slide heavily onto the back of your tongue.

You take it easily, naturally, your mind entering a relaxed state that shushes any thoughts. There’s only him. The world around you has narrowed, becoming entirely consumed by nothing but the man in front of you. An ache still simmers in your core, but the need for relief dulls for a moment, becoming an afterthought as you feel a simple desire to take him deeper into your mouth.

In a sensual haze, soft lips begin to run up and down his length, from the center to his tip. Your hand takes care of his thick shaft while you pump him in tune with each bob of your head. You work eagerly, tongue at the underside of his cock as you lick, cheeks hollowing as you suck, contributing to both his satisfaction and your own as your mouth tingles with intoxicating pleasure. You barely notice the soft noises you’re making until you feel Law’s fingers tightening around your hair, responding to your moans vibrating around his cock.

It threatens to touch the back of your throat, your mouth almost lowered to his base. You breathe in slowly through your nose, Law’s skin and sex smelling primal and masculine, alighting a flare of arousal within your chest. Though before you can sink further, without warning, Law uses his grip to firmly shove you down. His self-control dwindles, fully burying himself into you, a shaky sigh escaping through gritted teeth.

You whimper around his length. The pathetic mewl combined with a deep, reflexive swallow sounds impossibly sinful. You’re certain you look the part too, raunchy with your lips split wide around his cock, slicked up with too much saliva and drool dribbling down your chin. Your eyes are watering, tears threatening to slip down your cheeks as your gag reflex contracts.

It only fuels your perverse excitement. Your hands clutch at either side of his hips, digging crescent-shaped marks into his skin, the sting making his hold tighten. Your thighs press together, mindlessly squirming and writhing beneath Law as you take all of him. Sucking with vigor, his hand moves in time with your eager ministrations, fingers laced through your hair while he works you onto him.

Law keeps control as he guides you, but it’s clear he’s struggling to maintain it. You can notice the way he’s trying to contain himself as time passes, swallowing his noises back, suppressing open-mouthed groans into heavy breaths and low grunts. His hips twitch continuously, bucking into your mouth as you feel him faintly throb against your tongue.

He doesn’t let himself finish. Law suddenly pulls you off by your hair, urgent and rough. You slide out with an obscene pop, immediately missing the fullness in your mouth, longing for the taste of his seed. You look up at him, your face wet with tears and drool. He almost seems as wrecked as you are. Law pants above you, his lips parted and face flushed, eyes heavy as he looks down at you.

An intense need for release promptly returns upon his absence. Though he’s within arms reach, you long for him terribly—the contentment and relief he provided upon taking you, the feeling of his cock inside of you, the debauched noises he made in response to your care. You don’t want it to stop, not even for a moment.

“Use me,” you plead, voice strained and worn, helpless and submissive. His response is immediate, ingraining ownership with the firmness of his words.

“I will.”

Law doesn’t waste time. He moves off your chest, straddling your hips now. Knowing you’re ready, he acts without delay, lining himself up with your entrance. You practically pull him inside. He sinks into you, letting out a rough huff of pleasure. You’re faintly aware of making too much noise as you whimper beneath him, clasping a hand over your mouth to suppress the high pitched sounds. In your current oversensitive state, he feels endless inside of you, impossibly swollen as your walls stretch to accommodate his length. Still, you take every inch. Your sultry warmth squeezes around him while he buries himself deep.

He stays bottomed out for a moment. The two of you adjust to each other, reveling in the sensual thrill of experiencing the other’s body for the first time. You can see the way he unravels. Holding himself up, his hands are placed at your sides, fingers gripping the sheets. With his brows knit and jaw tight, Law’s mask of composure steadily slips, but dominance continues to radiate off every inch of him nonetheless. Under his control, he takes you.

Law pulls out just enough to thrust himself back in. Picking up a steady pace, he aims to please, each movement purposeful. You can feel your fingers digging into your cheeks as the grip on your mouth tightens, your snug heat clenching around him in a way that makes him groan lowly. You’re pushed to the outermost limits of pleasure, something within your body unlocking upon having him inside you. The ache in your lower belly transitions into persistent bliss. Your other hand shakily reaches down, rubbing frantic circles along your clit as you chase full satisfaction.

It doesn't take long. Your orgasm hits you like a train, paralyzing you with adrenaline and brute force. The impact of relief after such debilitating tension and unruly want makes you freeze when it all comes crashing down. You're caught in an obscene arch, back curling off the bed as a strangled sob of delight stifles through your hand.

You're faintly aware of the way Law looks at you, his motions coming to a complete stop as you ride your high. You'd ponder the hypnotized glint in his eyes if you had the brainpower. The buzz in your head discourages complex thinking, fully focused on the simplicity of moving your hips down to grind yourself onto him in a desperate pursuit for more.

The concept of enough is lost to you. Though it brought a mind shattering pleasure, satisfaction was brief. Unsated and eager, your need for release mounts, the aphrodisiac fueling both greed and lust. Your hand, still clasped on your mouth, loosens. Your breath is hot and heavy between your fingers as you whisper out a plea.

"Don't stop."

Law almost looks surprised for a brief moment. You've left no room for recovery, certain to be uncontrollably overstimulated. Even so, it's what your body asks for, and it's what you get. He doesn’t hold back, something animalistic brought out within him as he picks up his movements and redoubles his efforts. Sensing the defilement you need, Law ruthlessly gives you all you can take.

He ruins you from the inside out, making you writhe and contort with relentless pleasure. Tears begin to wet your hand as you struggle to muffle the filthy moans that escape you. Overwhelmingly blissed out, your eyes lock with Law’s. There’s a wildness within him, a stark contrast to his usually composed demeanor. He looks drunk off pleasure, lost in consumption with his pupils blown and his breathing changing, becoming fast and shallow.

The pace grows feverish. There was depth in Law’s actions before now. Quick thrusts were harsh but precise, intended to hit only the spot that made you squeal. Though as his ache blends with yours, there’s no longer a pattern, no thoughts beyond need and take. Something primal envelops him, apparent in the way his movements become sloppy and rushed. An instinct to claim exposes itself in all its selfish entirety as Law chases his high.

The raw desperation fuels your own. You can feel the rush of another orgasm creeping up, but Law loses himself before you do. The low growl he makes barely sounds human. A carnal noise is hot against your ear, Law’s face settling in the crook of your neck. Thin hips cease their movement as his cock stays buried to the base, twitching with each pump of cum. He empties into you for long seconds, the warmth of his seed radiating across the pit of your stomach. You clench around him, welcoming every drop.

Suddenly, he pulls out, but doesn’t stop.

You’re barely given a chance to think. Law grabs you, roughly flipping you over so that you’re on your elbows and knees before him. You squeak in surprise, though your body reacts on instinct, back arching to display yourself properly. You can hear Law let out a deep, shaky sigh behind you, surely savoring the picture you paint as his wide hands grip the plush of your hips. He spreads you apart. His seed seeps out of your throbbing cunt and trickles onto your thigh before you feel his blunt head prodding at your entrance.

Law acts in a way that’s starved, burying himself deep with one thrust only to slide out to the tip and push himself back in, repeating with vigor. You can recognize the desperation—the eagerness, the insatiability, the uncontrollable need for more despite already reaching satisfaction. It’s a deep seated craving you’ve grown all too familiar with under the aphrodisiac’s influence, plaguing you with persistent hunger. As the swell of searing arousal continues to build within you, you manage to come to a realization.

Secondhand exposure, you think to yourself. It has to be. The way he moves, the way he devours, the way he takes without holding back… You’re unsure of why it’s affected him, whether it was through contact with your body or by simply being in your vicinity, but Law loses himself all the same. He caves to a maddening desire, and you’re underneath him, caught in the crossfire as he uses you for all you’re worth.

You bask in it. For nights and for years, you’d wonder what it’d be like to experience your Captain in his rawest form, overwhelmed with desire and breaking with lust. You’d imagine how he’d act, how he’d look, how he’d sound, moans and whimpers escaping him until you wouldn’t be able to associate his cool demeanor without its needy counterpart. As Law takes you, you feel an odd swell of pride and giddiness. It's a particularly exciting feeling to have a usually composed and reserved man now unfiltered, indulging in life’s most sacred pleasure with you.

He gives in sinfully, hand slithering up your back to wrap around your neck. Law grabs you by the throat, fingertips digging into your skin, pulling you upwards and using his grip as leverage to bounce you onto him in time with each thrust. The strain in your neck and bend of your back barely registers as pain. It melts into something else entirely, concocting into a thorny kind of pleasure when mixed with Law’s ravaging. You welcome it, moving as your body allows, sloppy and shaky as your hips follow his movements to fuck yourself onto him.

The two of you fall into a rhythm. Thriving off shared need, you find yourselves continuously using each other’s bodies as you both grow senseless from the unending ecstasy. It's a strange haze you enter. Hypnotized and delirious, the minutes and motions blur together, your concept of time and cognition slipping away. Fixated on savoring the present, on doing nothing but taking what you need and giving all you can offer, you’re caught in a tangle of bodies as the aphrodisiac controls each greedy action.

You’re wrecked by the time it fizzles out. Fucked to mind break, you lay beneath Law, broken little whimpers escaping you as he takes you one last time. The numbers of your orgasms have become lost to you, though the lewd squelching of your cunt suggests enough, dripping with a blend of your slick and Law’s cum. He’s managed to fill you load after load, releasing into you each time he came, not wasting a drop save for the excess that overflows as he continues to pump himself in and out.

Though you’re spent, you allow Law to use you as he pleases, acting as a toy made for his entertainment. He breaks you. Enveloped in a state of rapture, Law watches with perverted pleasure as your tears and drool stain your blissed out face. Seeing you in such a ruined state only makes him more ravenous, quickening the erratic rhythm. Law claims, his movements possessive, hands tightly gripping your wrists as he pins you down and tears you apart.

The room smells of sex, atmosphere thick and heavy, your bodies covered in a glistening gleam of sweat. Lightheaded from the heat and dazed with overexertion, the world around you swirls in a blur of dizzying sensations. Through the disorienting fog, you hear him. His voice cuts you out of your haze, each word carrying a raspy edge, guttural and rough with primal need.

“Say my name.”

Your pounding heart skips a beat. Law’s name wasn’t something you just threw around. Though the two of you had grown close over the years, you still had the habit of referring to him out of respect, calling him Captain or doctor no matter the context. His name was unspokenly intimate, uttered only a handful of times in delicate moments.

And now, he wants it. He’s no less demanding than he’s been all night, but there’s something different about it now. It’s not the control you’re used to, not the same power of a Captain giving orders meant to be followed. It’s vulnerable when you really think about it, the request suggesting a desire beyond what’s necessary as your doctor and Captain.

A surge of memories floods your mind, recalling the countless hours you've spent side by side, fighting for a common cause. You've witnessed Law's unwavering determination, his bouts of rage, his indirect yet tender care, the victories and defeats that have defined your shared journey. Through it all, you've admired him, respected him, and steadily fallen for him.

If his name is what he wants, it’s what you’ll give.

“Law,” you softly whimper, pulled from the depths of your chest, releasing years of pent up longing with each devoted repeat. “Law, Law, Law…”

It’s enough to throw him over the edge. Law presses his forehead against yours and releases into you, his voice raising an octave as his grunts and groans transition from dominant and controlling to needy and desperate. You squeeze around him instinctively, his cock twitching and throbbing, your heat pulsating in response. You’re filled with his addictive warmth once again, though your own pleasure is an afterthought as Law loses himself to unbridled lust above you.

In this moment, you could almost convince yourself he’s more than just a Captain or doctor. It’s as if he's a lover, his parted lips an inch away from yours. Your breath mingles with his as he hovers over you, tantalizingly close. In such vulnerability, you begin to feel the weight of your desire, of everything you pushed away and locked up, finally lifting. You wait for Law to bridge the remaining distance, to close the gap between your lips and his, to admit to yearning and declare satiation with a kiss that seals your connection.

It doesn’t happen.

Law pulls away, leaving you suspended in a state of bittersweet longing. What the two of you have shared tonight was undeniably passionate, but despite the electricity, reality begins to settle in. A sobering realization dawns over you as the boundaries of your relationship fall back into place, confining you within the throes of what is appropriate and acceptable between you and your Captain.

Though even as fervor subsides, the weight of it lingers. Unspoken desires and unfulfilled possibilities hang heavy in the air. It’s a testament to the depth of emotions that simmer beneath the surface, aching to be explored, reminding of what could’ve been, relenting to what must be.

You almost expect him to leave, to cut off this connection here and now, but he stays. Law collapses next to you, his body mirroring your own wrecked and worn state. Lucidity dull with exhaustion, you rest your head on his chest, experimentally pulling him close in a need for aftercare. He doesn’t stop you. Instead, his arm wraps around your waist, securing you against him.

Later, there will be more. Later, there will be problems, complications, repercussions of this forbidden intimacy. You know this. Even so, the steady rhythm of Law’s heartbeat gently soothes your senses. It’s a fragile respite, a brief reprieve, but you still find solace in his arms, allowing yourself to think that perhaps, just for this moment, you belong together.

And for now, that is enough.

[nagitosstolenhand]

okay does anyone else find it very icky that immediately after finding out kurogiri is a nomu and a victim of nonconsensual medical experimentation and malpractice. the pros n hpsc ppl immediately transfer him to a hospital for their docters to do nonconsensual medical experimentation on him to try and both see if they can turn them back into oboro and also just to see how the nomus tick. like maybe its cause i am a firm Kurogiri Should Be Allowed To Be Their Own Person And Should Actually Be Allowed Agency In Their Story believer but genuinely even if you think kurogiri is just amnesiac oboro this still feels shady on SO many levels.

also the fact we get NO comment from Mic or Aizawa. ik grief and anguish over the fact your dead highschool friend is an undead villainess butler now but they are the only vector we ever get updates on kurogiri so them never bringing it up just makes it feel like they dont care. let our dead best friends reanimated corpse be poked and prodded by a team of random government doctors. who cares what the actual person made from him says as long as theres some small vain hope they might get their long dead friend back.

this could all be very interesting and explore the hypocrisy of the heros/hpsc and give Mic n Aizawas relationship with kurogiri some genuine depth, but we don't get that because the kurogiri-oboro plot was inserted in for extra angst and an excuse to make aizawa extra pissed at and resentful of shigaraki and was just left there when it was time to chase another big shonen boss fight. i hope they actually manage to address any of this when the kurogiri-mic-aizawa plot actually shows up again but with how things are going. i severely doubt it. and after spinner and dabi i severely doubt they are actually going to find a genuinely satisfying conclusion to this arc. which is honestly just so fucking disappointing.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sliding Into Home ~ For Reasons Unknown...

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Unexpected Surprises

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

aughable.  

Sinister 

Dangerous 

Insane 

All of these words float through Frank’s mind as he stares at his former best friend. Mike sat across from him, plexiglass separating them. He could barely recognize him. After talking with Andy, who was not happy about this visit, Mike was in the process of being disciplined by the California and Massachusetts BARs. The law firm he was working at had already dismissed him. Natasha Romanoff had personally contacted Abby and himself with apologies. Probably trying to avoid a lawsuit for malpractice. But Frank wasn’t worried about any of that.  His sleepless nights made him come to one conclusion: let Mike Weiss know he was never going to hurt his family again.  Mike laughed when he saw Frank sitting there. When Frank picked up the phone, so did he.  

“Hi Mike.” 

“Hello, homewrecker.”  

Frank had to swallow the anger. He needed answers.  Answers that only Mike could provide. But he didn’t know what to say.  

“What? Got nothing to say?” Mike taunted him. “I’m locked up and you are with my cheating good for nothing whore of an ex-fiancé.”  

Frank narrowed his eyes. “Don’t call her that.”  

Mike scoffed. “I’ll call her whatever the fuck I want. Abby left me for you. I know you two were sleeping together before she broke it off with me. I’m just calling a spade, a spade.” 

“Look, it wasn’t intentional, ok?”   

“Not intentional. Bullshit. You were upset that I got the girl.” Mike smirked. “I had you beat.”  

“And yet, she still came back to me.” The smile dropped on Mike’s face as Frank’s grin grew. “She has always been mine. We just found our way back to each other. And now we have a family with my Mary.”  

The mention of Mary draws a snarl of from Mike.  “What the fuck do you want?” 

“I just have one question.”  

“Which is?” 

“Why? Why did you let Diane into your home and attack Abby? Why did you kidnap my daughter?” 

Abby sat on the cold metal chair across from Diane. She was just like how she remembered her. Before the attack, before she abandoned Mary. Before she was with Mike.  Her hair was longer, the long blonde stands pulled away from her face. Abby assumed her face would be hallow from being on the run but no, her cheeks were full.  The only thing that made her think this was a different Diane from her childhood was her eyes.  Her eyes were sad, full of remorse, sorrow, guilt.  She noted that Diane was cuffed to the table, and she was able to relax her shoulders a bit.  

“Hi Diane,” she greeted softly.  

“Abby. I’m surprised to see you here.”  

“Yeah, me too.” Abby looked down.  “How- How are you?” 

Diane cocked her head with curiosity at her question. “I’m ok. They put me on meds and my head is clear.”  Diane chewed her bottom lip. “How’s Frank?” 

“He’s good. A little sad.”  

“Sad?” 

“Because he lost his sister.”  Abby looked at her sadly. “You have no idea the damage you have done to him. To Mary. To me.”  She gave a hard look. “Why Diane? Why him?” 

“You wouldn’t understand.”  Diane leaned back.  

“Try me. Because he manipulated me to be with him and I lost five years with the love of my life.”  

Diane looked away.  

Rage took over Mike’s face.  “Mary is MINE! I’ll prove it, you motherfucker.”  

“You can’t have her,” Frank said calmly. “She is mine and I won’t give up fighting for her.  I’m her father. And you are nothing but her sperm donor.  You raped my sister and left her when she was pregnant. You told my baby sister to abort her baby.  You don’t have any right to call yourself Mary’s father.”  

“Well obviously she didn’t,” Mike sneered. “I will do everything I can to take away Mary from you. Your life will be hell, I promise you that."  

“You’ll do shit! Why did you attack my wife?”  

“I owe you nothing Adler.” Mike leaned back. “I’ll take that one to the grave.”  

Frank stood up. “Fine, don’t tell me. Abby is in Boston, seeing Diane.  We’ll get the answers we are looking for. See you at trial.”  He hung up and could see Mike screaming at him through the glass.  Guards came over to restrain him.  

Frank was disappointed.  Not so much as not getting the answers he wanted but because his friend was now a drugged out mess, not even a piece of the good man he once knew remained.  Frank had his driver take him back to the airport. He needed to hug his daughter. 

“I always had a crush on Mike. He was my brother’s best friend. Older guy. Forbidden.” Diane gave a sad smile. “I didn’t think I had a chance in hell. But one day he noticed me. You and my brother were so wrapped up in each other and I didn’t notice how obsessed Mike was with you.”   

“Did he... did he take advantage?” 

“No,” she shook her head. “He talked and touched my face so sweet.  He spent days with me when you guys started dating. He told me I was beautiful and he... he could see a future with me.”  A single tear fell from her eye. “I believed him.”  

Abby took in a shuddering breath. “Why were you in my house?” 

“Mike came back into my life. He found me in Seattle and said that he found a way for us to be together. That he knew who made me like this. He gave me a shot and when I woke up, I was in a hotel.” 

“You don’t remember?” Abby frowned. “Anything?” 

Diane shook her head.  “No. I know what happened because the police told me.”  

Abby sat back. She looked at Antonio, who had a look of sadness. “I’m sorry that happened to you Diane.  Thank you for talking with me.”  She stood up with Andy and Antonio following her lead. “I’ll see you later.”  

Diane sobbed and Andy took a hold of Abby to stop her from comforting Diane.  He led her out and once outside, Abby collapsed into her brother’s arms, crying for the pain her friend had endured.  

Abby was quiet the entire flight home.  Andy kept glancing at her as she sat with her eyes closed.  He sent a message to Frank 

A: It was bad  F: Fuck, is she ok?  A: I think so. The story Diane told was heartbreaking  F: Has Cricket said anything?  A: No.  F: OK, I’ll see you when you land 

At the airport, Abby and Andy made their way out,with Andy guiding her around.  She was staring at the ground when she heard, “hey Cricket.” She looked up to see Frank standing at the door, a single pink rose in his hand.  She dropped the bag and ran into his arms, wrapping her legs around him. The sobs that she had contained from Boston to LA came spilling out. “Baby, its ok, its all gonna be ok.” He kissed her head.  

Andy walked over with Abby’s dropped bag. “Hey Frank.”  

“Thank you, Andy, for flying back with her.”  

“Not a problem, had some stuff to finish in our LA office.” He shrugged. “Is it still ok to stay with you?” 

“Course man. Let’s get you guys home.” He set Abby down, grabbed her bag and walked her and Andy to the car. Arriving home, Abby raced inside, still nothing spoken. Frank and Andy exchanged a look before heading inside. It was early, the house still calm. Abby stood in the doorway of her daughter’s bedroom. She watched for a moment, Mary sleeping in her bed, Dodger at her feet. A single tear slides down her face.  The tragic story of her conception, how her parents didn’t love her enough, that Frank and Abby had to pick up the pieces and love a girl that was not their own. But Abby did love, she loved that little girl with everything she had. As she stared, her only thought was ‘Her baby girl was safe.’  Carefully, she crawled into the bed with her.  Mary turned into Abby and sighed happily, her unconscious state recognizing that Abby was cuddling with her.  

When Frank looked in, his heart clenched at the sight of mother and children in bed together. Abby had quickly fallen asleep with her arms wrapped around Mary.  Not one to miss out on a snuggle, Frank kicked off his shoes and climbed in as well, wrapped his arms around his family and went back to sleep. 

Mike was extradited to Massachusetts the following week and was charged with kidnapping and child endangerment. He pled not guilty and decided to represent himself.  He hadn’t been disbarred yet. “There is nothing else we can do right now,” Andy explained. “The protection order is already in place. Now we just have to wait.”  

Frank returned to the team, working on winning the division. Their final challenge was a familiar foe: the San Francisco Giants. Facing Mike’s new best friend, Bobby, would be difficult but as long as Frank kept his mouth shut, it would be fine.  A three game series in September was the epitome of baseball.  A time for summer to end and fall to take over.  

The first two games were uneventful as Bobby was out with a bruised knee.  But he was cleared to play for the Sunday finale.  The Dodgers needed the win in order to avoid a playoff and win the division.  It was a beautiful September Sunday, perfect weather for a game.  Abby, Scott, Steve and Mary were in the family box, watching their favorite player take the field.  San Francisco was up at bat first.  

Frank concentrated on the batter.  Of course, it was Fuller. Johnny ended up walking him and he jogged over to first base. Frank scowled but kept his mouth shut.  

“Sup Adler.” Fuller smiled. “Long time no talk.”  Frank said nothing.  “What? You’re not going to talk to me. That’s mature.”  

“I’m not talking to you because I don’t want to get kicked out of this game or end up in jail.” Frank turned away from Fuller and concentrated on the game.  The next batter popped a fly ball, and the second baseman was able to turn it into a double play.  Fuller headed back into the dugout, a smirk on his face.  

Frank rolled his eyes and went back to the game.  A few innings later Bobby was back on first base after hitting a ground ball to left field. “You still mad that Abby left you?” 

“Nope.”  

Fuller watched him carefully.  “You know it wasn’t personal for me Frankie Boy. Mike just said the right things at the right time.”  

“Is that right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool.  Then maybe you can explained why he let my drugged out sister in his home with Abby and let her beat the crap outta her? Or the fact that he kidnapped my daughter.”  Frank got right into Bobby’s face, causing the first base coach to try to intervene.  “Can you explain how you let that psycho near my family, and yet you feel nothing?!” He shoved Bobby to the ground.  “Fuck you and fuck him!  I will have my day in court where I take that son of a bitch down.  And I’ll take you down with him if you speak to me or go near me and family again.” Frank shook off Johnny who was holding in back.  

“You’re gone Adler,” the umpire said.  

Frank walked without causing another scene.  In the locker room, he threw his hat and glove in rage.  “FUCK!”  He grasped the table to try and calm himself.  

“Frankie?” 

Frank whipped around to see Abby in the doorway.  “Cricket, I...” 

“Are you ok?” She cut him off.  

He shook his head. “No. Fuller, he... fuck, he got to me Cricket.  How could he do it?  How could he help that fucker hurt you and Mary. He was my best friend on the team and he...” Frank finally broke down and cried into Abby’s shoulder. He had been so strong for so long. Abby stroked his back and let him come to terms with the truth.  

“Baby, you have been our rock this year. Let it out, ok?” 

 “I love you, Cricket, so much.”  

“I love you too, Frankie.” 

As the family made it home, Frank’s cell rang. “It’s Andy.”  Scott ushered Mary to her room as Abby and Frank answered the call.  “Hey Andy.”  

“Hi Frank.  Is Abby with you?” 

“I’m here.”  

“Ok good.”  he sighed. “Mike was given bail and he made it. He’ll be released by tomorrow.”  

“Fuck,” Frank mumbled.  

“That’s not the worst of it. He’s filed a motion to block the adoption.”  

“What?” Abby whispered. “Why?” 

“Just like we thought. On the grounds that he is Mary’s natural father and has not given up his rights. The motion states that the block is to allow time for him to sue for custody. There is a court date in a week from Monday on the motion.”  

“We'll fight,” Frank said.  “We’ll find a way show the courts that he is an unfit father and to make him go away. I refuse to let that son of a bitch tear apart this family.” 

“Frankie...” Abby started  

“No Abigail. I’m not gonna stop until we have that paperwork that says to the world that Mary is ours, just like she’s been since she was born.”  

NEXT

Taglist

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@before-we-get-started

@tinkerbelle67

@bunnyforhim

[shortstackpyro]

Will make a cleaner ref at a later time

She/They | pansexual + enby | 25+

Smokes is about 5'4"ft but due to her combat boots she stands a little closer to 5'5"ft she is SMOL

• Smokes gets along well with most of the team, often butting heads though with soldier and scout. Medic and her generally do get along, but she's been known to fight him off when she's trying to clean up body parts, or when she's questioning his medical knowledge due to her previous work as a ambulance driver*. Some of her standoff nature towards him also comes from a rather frustrated attraction to him as well. Medic seems to know this and will often take whatever chance he can to rile her up, given, she won't torch him for it.

• Engineer and Sniper are the closest to her within the group. demo, spy and heavy are close seconds as they're reasonable folks to be around

• She's best described as being aloof and impulsive though good-natured and rather intelligent despite being rather inattentive and disassociative. Part of the reason her and engineer get along so well is because of her mechanical ability. She helps maintain a lot of the vehicles on base and will often help engineer with repairs when he asks for it

• While a punk arsonist, she used a lot of her "real work" as coverage but also to ensure the safety of those she wished not to involve in her line of work as she generally preferred to target corrupt law firms, insurance agencies, banks, mega corporations, etc hence how she ended up working for Red Mann, he had managed to catch her and her only wish should she have to work beneath him (or die) was to keep her rig.

*back in the 70s, the concept of emt work in America was still relatively fresh, EMTs were usually given some rather basic training, but most of their work came down to driving patients to the hospital and making sure they at least had a chance to be seen by doctors. Before this, in the 40s-60s one would usually call a funeral home for a ride to the hospital if they could not drive themselves. As such said rigs really weren't built to save lives, but really just insure secure and comfortable transport

Link to the real life vehicle hers is inspired by > @malpractice-wagon

[attorney-anon]

So I’m a baby lawyer. As in I got sworn in less than a week ago. And honestly? I don’t know what I want. I’m working in a law firm (not a legal role didn’t want it during bar prep). I’m applying places, I’m talking to recruiters, started looking at doc review if I find nothing. But I’m plagued with so many questions. Do I genuinely not want to do courtroom work or am I just afraid of it? What area of law do I want? I just know know what I don’t want. How do I maintain a work life balance when all the bosses want you to be back in the office and my commute regularly can be over two hours one way? That doesn’t even include all the social stress of starting a new job in a new environment. Sorry for the vent.

Best advice I can offer is to be flexible when you’re starting out, and also to think long and hard about what kind of salary you can live with. In general, family law and/or any kind of “feel good” field of law is going to pay less per year of experience than personal injury, medical malpractice, and/or business law.

Litigation focused positions vary in terms of the amount of court time. Doing family law, I’m generally in court more than most of my PI friends but less than most of my criminal law friends. I hate the courtroom, but there are ways to make it less intimidating.

As far as work/life balance, focus on a comfortable commute, yes, but also focus on your evening and weekend expectations - are you expected to respond to clients outside of work hours? Are you expected to hand out your personal cell phone number? These things can drain on you even if they seem small. For me, personally, these things are more important than the commute (though I currently have a 20 minute commute, and I do love it).

Also, if you can handle a lower salary starting out, and want to get a feel for several areas of law at once, see if your local legal aid organization has positions open for their intake line; many of them have attorneys doing the intakes and giving legal advice.

Above all, don’t be afraid to change firms if your first pick is a bad fit. You can explain things to recruiters and interviewers, but a bad fit WILL take a toll on you both mentally and physically. If you need a lateral shift in order to take care of yourself, do it.

[pribanicpribanic]

“Pittsburgh medical malpractice lawyer Victor Pribanic knows the standard of care that hospitals, doctors and nurses should provide, and when medical injury demands accountability. For 2024, as a result of Pribanic & Pribanic’s success, the law firm was awarded the “Best Law Firms” to find a medical malpractice attorney in Pittsburgh.”

🔗 https://pribanic.com/practice-areas/medical-malpractice/

[stalwartlawseo]

California's Best Birth Injury Attorneys: Seeking Justice and Recovery

Birth injury lawsuits provide a way for families to get over the devastating loss they've suffered. When birth injuries are the result of medical malpractice, legal action must be taken. The Best Birth Injury Lawyers and Attorneys, particularly those located in California, can help families navigate these challenging cases.

Having a skilled Malpractice Lawyer is vital in Birth Injury Lawsuit. These attorneys have a deep understanding of medical malpractice laws and fight to get victims' families the money they are entitled to. When representing clients, the best medical malpractice firms in California use their extensive expertise to great effect.

It takes not just legal know-how but also compassion to go through a Birth Injury Lawsuit. With the help of skilled Malpractice Attorneys, families who have suffered from birth injuries can seek justice and move on to the healing process. Keep in mind that getting back on your feet begins with researching your legal alternatives and selecting competent counsel to defend you.

[coochiequeens]

interesting to post two articles about the American Academy of Pediatrics in one day

A first-of-its-kind lawsuit, showcasing the growing movement to expose the painful, life-altering impacts of gender ideology.

Press Team | October 24, 2023

WASHINGTON, D.C. — Following in the footsteps of two female detransitioners featured in Independent Women’s Forum’s “Identity Crisis” series who have filed lawsuits against healthcare professionals for medical malpractice, two new bombshell lawsuits have now dropped from the same law firm against the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) and prominent healthcare providers. The lawsuits coincide with the AAP’s annual gathering in Washington, D.C., where pediatric providers discuss the latest best practices in pediatrics. Independent Women’s Forum, as part of its work to expose the harms of the gender ideology movement firsthand through “Identity Crisis”, calls the lawsuits groundbreaking and critical to the efforts to protect children.

Campbell Miller Payne, a law firm formed this year out of a heart for individuals who were misled and abused into psychological and physical harm through a false promise of “gender-affirming care,” filed the lawsuits on Friday and Monday for their clients, including a 14-year-old minor who was put on life-altering cross-sex hormones.

Isabelle Ayala, a female detransitioner from Florida is suing the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) and her healthcare providers alleging civil conspiracy, fraud, and medical malpractice. The first detransitioner lawsuit in the nation to name the AAP, Isabelle alleges the organization knowingly mislead the public in publishing and disseminating a fraudulent “policy statement” that has been perceived by many as an authoritative guide for the treatment of gender-confused children in the U.S.

Among the providers Isabelle is suing are Dr. Jason Rafferty and Dr. Michelle Forcier. Dr. Forcier is among the country’s most prominent figures on “gender affirming hormones and care plans.” She attained broader national recognition after being featured in Matt Walsh’s “What is a Woman” documentary. 

Dr. Rafferty is the author of the 2018 AAP policy statement that essentially created the “affirmative care” model, as it has become known and implemented throughout the country. That document, the lawsuit alleges, underplayed the known risks of the medical interventions it advocated for and used misleading and fraudulent citations to support its conclusions and recommendations.

At the time of her purported “treatment,” Isabelle was a vulnerable 14-year-old girl suffering from numerous mental health comorbidities, including autism, ADHD, and PTSD from a sexual assault at a young age. Her parents had recently separated, and she moved from Florida to Rhode Island with her father and his girlfriend. Her story, like so many others, involved social isolation and finding trans ideology online, where she discovered community and celebration and was told—and eventually convinced—that she was “trans.” 

After a single, brief meeting with Dr. Rafferty, Isabelle was recommended for testosterone injections, but her mother refused to give consent. In a follow-up meeting, Dr. Rafferty and his team convinced her mother to drop her objection by misrepresenting testosterone as the only available treatment and suggesting that if she did not receive the hormones, Isabelle would commit suicide. Shortly thereafter, Isabelle was put on life-altering cross-sex hormones. She now suffers from a slew of debilitating conditions from the effects of years of testosterone injection, including vaginal atrophy, physical pain, and the triggering of an auto-immune disease only present in males in her family, among others.

Jordan Campbell, Campell Miller Payne counsel for Isabelle, said:

“Isabelle, like too many other vulnerable young adolescents, was an unknowing victim of a fraudulent medical regime that stems from the ideologies of a radical minority. Sadly, the AAP has thrown its support behind them. Isabelle is seeking to hold them and her health care providers accountable for the role they collectively played in causing life-changing damage to her physical and mental health.” 

Campbell Miller Payne filed another lawsuit last Friday against Drs. Rafferty and Forcier, among others, for medical malpractice on behalf of female detransitioner Layton Ulery.

The firm also represents Soren Aldaco and Prisha Mosley, two women featured in Independent Women’s Forum’s “Identity Crisis” series, in their lawsuits against their healthcare providers. Kelsey Bolar, executive producer of the IWF’s “Identity Crisis” series, responds to the new lawsuits:

“Isabelle’s lawsuit represents a historic step in the fight to obtain justice for detransitioners. For too long, health care ‘experts’ have used the AAP as a shield to harm children by encouraging social ‘transition,’ prescribing wrong-sex hormones, and puberty blockers, and performing irreversible surgeries. These guidelines have had serious consequences for individuals, like Isabelle, who now suffer from permanent conditions caused by the proposed treatments. It’s long past time that those responsible for publishing these guidelines face consequences, too.”

Prisha Mosley has been central to exposing gender ideology and the betrayal of health professionals. Her story told through Independent Women’s Forum’s “Identity Crisis” series can be viewed here. Following her attendance at the AAP conference and in response to these groundbreaking lawsuits, Mosley stated:

“I’m grateful to be standing alongside other detransitioners who are not only victims of medical practice with the bravery to speak out, but are also my friends.

“Filing a lawsuit is an incredibly stressful event. It takes courage, patience, and willpower. I am not only proud of my friends, but also hopeful that we all might be able to see justice and stop this preventable tragedy from destroying other families and the healthy bodies of the distressed.

“I attended the AAP conference this October to spread messages of truth and love and share the valuable stories of detransitioners lives. The reactions of many of the pediatricians made the importance of lawsuits clear to me: we aren’t collateral damage, we were failed by people who swore to Do No Harm, and those very same people refuse to acknowledge our existence and would prefer to call security on us rather than hear about the harms we live with.”

TO SPEAK WITH AN ATTORNEY FROM CAMPBELL MILLER PAYNE, ISABELLE AYALA, SOREN ALDACO, PRISHA MOSLEY, OR KELSEY BOLAR, PLEASE CONTACT PRESS@IWF.ORG.

[inmarketo]

McArthur Law Firm: A Legacy of Excellence in Personal Injury Law

For over 40 years, the McArthur Law Firm has been a beacon of hope for individuals and families affected by personal injury. Founded by Kathy McArthur, a renowned personal injury attorney, the firm has built a legacy of excellence in personal injury law. With a commitment to justice and a passion for helping others, the McArthur Law Firm has established itself as one of the most respected and successful personal injury law firms in the country.

A Team of Experienced Attorneys

The McArthur Law Firm is comprised of a team of experienced and dedicated attorneys who share a common goal: to provide exceptional representation to their clients. Each attorney at the firm has a deep understanding of personal injury law and a proven track record of success. From car accidents and medical malpractice to product liability and wrongful death, the attorneys at the McArthur Law Firm have the expertise and knowledge to handle even the most complex cases. With a team approach to representation, clients can rest assured that their case is being handled by a skilled and experienced attorney who is dedicated to achieving the best possible outcome.

A Commitment to Justice

At the McArthur Law Firm, justice is not just a word – it's a guiding principle. The firm's attorneys are committed to fighting for the rights of their clients and ensuring that they receive the compensation they deserve. Whether it's taking on a large corporation or negotiating with an insurance company, the McArthur Law Firm is not afraid to stand up for what is right. With a strong sense of justice and a passion for helping others, the firm's attorneys are dedicated to making a positive impact on the lives of their clients.

A Record of Success

The McArthur Law Firm has an impressive record of success, with numerous multi-million dollar verdicts and settlements. The firm's attorneys have been recognized for their excellence in personal injury law, with many receiving awards and accolades from their peers and the legal community. But the firm's success is not just measured by its wins – it's also measured by the positive impact it has on the lives of its clients. From helping families recover from devastating injuries to advocating for changes in the law, the McArthur Law Firm is dedicated to making a difference.

A Personal Approach to Representation

At the McArthur Law Firm, clients are not just numbers – they're people. The firm's attorneys take a personal approach to representation, taking the time to get to know each client and understand their unique needs and concerns. With a focus on communication and transparency, the firm's attorneys keep clients informed every step of the way, ensuring that they are always aware of the status of their case. This personal approach to representation has earned the McArthur Law Firm a reputation for being one of the most compassionate and caring law firms in the country.

A Legacy of Giving Back

The McArthur Law Firm is committed to giving back to the community, with a strong focus on philanthropy and community service. The firm's attorneys are actively involved in numerous charitable organizations and community groups, working to make a positive impact on the lives of those in need. From sponsoring local events to volunteering at community organizations, the McArthur Law Firm is dedicated to giving back to the community that has supported it for so many years.

A Bright Future Ahead

As the McArthur Law Firm looks to the future, it is clear that the firm's legacy of excellence will continue to endure. With a team of experienced attorneys, a commitment to justice, and a record of success, the firm is poised to remain a leader in personal injury law for years to come. Whether you or a loved one has been affected by personal injury, the McArthur Law Firm is here to help. With a legacy of excellence and a commitment to justice, the firm's attorneys are dedicated to fighting for the rights of their clients and ensuring that they receive the compensation they deserve.

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McArthur Law Firm: Your Go-To Accident Lawyer Near Me

When faced with an Atlanta injury attorney, the aftermath can be overwhelming. From dealing with injuries to managing medical bills and insurance claims, the challenges can feel insurmountable. This is where having a knowledgeable and experienced accident lawyer becomes essential. Among the many legal professionals available, the McArthur Law Firm stands out as a reliable option for those seeking representation in personal injury claims. This article will explore the various aspects of the McArthur Law Firm, highlighting why it should be your first choice when searching for an accident lawyer near you.

Expertise in Personal Injury Law

One of the foremost reasons to choose the McArthur Law Firm is their specialization in personal injury law. This area of law encompasses a wide range of cases, including car accidents, slip-and-fall incidents, workplace injuries, and medical malpractice. The team at McArthur Law Firm brings years of experience and an in-depth understanding of local laws and regulations governing these cases. Their expertise enables them to effectively assess the nuances of each individual case, helping clients navigate the complexities of the legal system.

Personalized Legal Representation

At the McArthur Law Firm, every client is treated with the utmost importance. From the initial consultation to the conclusion of the case, the law firm emphasizes personalized legal representation. They take the time to listen to your story, understand your unique circumstances, and tailor their approach accordingly. This commitment to individualized service ensures that clients feel heard and supported throughout the legal process. The firm’s attorneys work diligently to build strong cases that reflect the specific details of each accident, which can be crucial for obtaining favorable outcomes.

Aggressive Advocacy for Clients

In the realm of personal injury law, having a lawyer who is not only knowledgeable but also aggressive in protecting their client's rights is essential. The attorneys at McArthur Law Firm are known for their tenacity and unwavering commitment to advocating for their clients’ best interests. They understand that insurance companies often aim to minimize payouts and may attempt to settle claims for less than they are worth. The McArthur Law Firm is prepared to fight on behalf of their clients, whether that means negotiating effectively with insurance adjusters or pursuing litigation when necessary.

Comprehensive Legal Support

The responsibilities of an accident lawyer extend beyond negotiating settlements. Clients often need guidance in various aspects of their case, including gathering evidence, filing legal paperwork, and understanding the intricacies of insurance claims. The McArthur Law Firm provides comprehensive legal support, ensuring that clients have all the resources they need during this challenging time. From obtaining medical records to securing expert testimonies, their team is equipped to handle every aspect of a personal injury claim, allowing clients to focus on their recovery.

Strong Track Record of Success

When selecting an accident lawyer, reviewing the firm's track record of success is crucial. The McArthur Law Firm prides itself on achieving favorable outcomes for its clients. Their history includes numerous settlements and verdicts that have significantly benefited those injured due to the negligence of others. While past results do not guarantee future outcomes, a firm’s success can provide peace of mind to potential clients, confirming that they are in capable hands. The McArthur Law Firm’s dedication to achieving the best possible results for clients reinforces its reputation as a trusted legal resource in the community.

No-Win, No-Fee Policy

Legal fees can be a significant concern for individuals considering legal representation. The McArthur Law Firm alleviates this concern through their no-win, no-fee policy, also known as a contingency fee arrangement. This means that clients do not have to pay legal fees unless they win their case. This approach allows clients to pursue their claims without the added stress of upfront costs, making legal representation accessible to everyone, regardless of their financial situation. Such policies reflect the firm’s confidence in their ability to secure positive outcomes for their clients.

Commitment to Community

Beyond their legal expertise, the McArthur Law Firm is dedicated to serving the community. They understand that accidents can impact not only individual lives but also families, businesses, and neighborhoods. The firm actively participates in community initiatives and educational programs aimed at promoting safety and preventing accidents. By engaging with the community, they not only give back but also foster trust and relationships that extend beyond the courtroom.

Conclusion

In conclusion, when searching for an accident lawyer, the McArthur Law Firm stands out as a premier choice. With their specialization in personal injury law, personalized legal representation, aggressive advocacy, comprehensive support, and a strong track record of success, they provide invaluable assistance to clients navigating the challenging aftermath of an accident. Their commitment to accessibility through a no-win, no-fee policy and dedication to community engagement further solidify their reputation. If you find yourself in need of legal representation after an accident, the McArthur Law Firm is prepared to be your go-to legal partner

[healthforlifetoday]

Important Considerations When Searching for a Personal Injury Lawyer in Fort Lauderdale

When facing the aftermath of an accident or injury, finding the right personal injury lawyer in Fort Lauderdale is crucial to ensure that you receive the compensation and justice you deserve. This process can be daunting, especially with the number of law firms in Fort Lauderdale vying for attention. To make an informed decision, it’s vital to evaluate key factors, as the outcome of your case can significantly impact your financial and emotional well-being.

Experience Matters in Personal Injury Law

One of the first things to consider when looking for the best lawyer in Fort Lauderdale is their experience in personal injury law. A lawyer with a proven track record in handling cases similar to yours is better equipped to navigate the complexities of Florida’s legal system. Personal injury cases, whether involving car accidents, medical malpractice, or workplace injuries, require specific knowledge of statutes, liability, and compensation frameworks.

At an experienced law firm in Fort Lauderdale, attorneys often have the insight and resources to build a compelling case. They understand the tactics used by insurance companies to minimize payouts and are prepared to counter them effectively. Ask potential lawyers about the number of cases they’ve handled, their success rate, and whether they specialize in the type of injury you’ve sustained.

Reputation and Client Reviews

A lawyer’s reputation is a strong indicator of their capability and professionalism. Searching online for reviews and testimonials about a particular injury attorney in Fort Lauderdale can provide valuable insights into their past clients’ experiences. Positive reviews often highlight qualities such as responsiveness, dedication, and the ability to secure favorable outcomes.

It’s also helpful to check for accolades and recognition from legal associations. Awards or memberships in organizations like the Florida Bar Association or the American Association for Justice signal a commitment to excellence in personal injury law. Additionally, recommendations from family or friends who have faced similar situations can be a reliable source of guidance.

Accessibility and Communication

Effective communication is a cornerstone of a successful attorney-client relationship. When choosing a personal injury lawyer in Fort Lauderdale, ensure that they are accessible and open to addressing your concerns throughout the process. Many clients find it frustrating when their lawyer is difficult to reach or fails to keep them updated on the progress of their case.

A reputable law firm in Fort Lauderdale will prioritize client communication, offering multiple channels for contact and promptly returning calls or emails. During your initial consultation, gauge the lawyer’s willingness to listen to your story and answer questions. This interaction can set the tone for the entire working relationship.

Fee Structure and Transparency

Understanding a lawyer’s fee structure upfront is essential to avoid surprises later. Most injury attorneys in Fort Lauderdale operate on a contingency fee basis, meaning they only get paid if you win your case. However, the percentage they take as their fee can vary, so it’s important to clarify this during the consultation.

Ask about any additional costs, such as court fees or expert witness expenses, and whether these will be deducted from your settlement. Transparent billing practices demonstrate a lawyer’s honesty and professionalism. Avoid any firm that is hesitant to provide a clear breakdown of their fees.

Resources and Support Staff

A well-resourced law firm can make a significant difference in the outcome of your case. Investigating whether a law firm in Fort Lauderdale has access to expert witnesses, accident reconstruction specialists, and medical professionals can give you confidence in their ability to build a strong case. Additionally, support staff like paralegals and legal assistants play an integral role in managing documentation, communication, and case preparation.

Firms with a dedicated team often work more efficiently, ensuring that no detail is overlooked. During your consultation, inquire about the resources they have at their disposal and how they plan to utilize them for your case.

Understanding of Local Laws and Regulations

Florida’s personal injury laws can be complex, with specific rules regarding comparative negligence, statutes of limitations, and no-fault insurance policies. Choosing a personal injury lawyer in Fort Lauderdale who is well-versed in these laws ensures that your case is handled in compliance with local regulations.

For instance, Florida’s comparative negligence rule means that your compensation may be reduced if you are found partially at fault for the accident. An experienced lawyer will know how to present evidence to minimize any shared liability and maximize your settlement.

Personal Connection and Trust

While technical expertise is critical, the personal connection between you and your lawyer should be noticed. The legal process can be lengthy and stressful, so working with an attorney you trust and feel comfortable with is essential.

During initial consultations, assess whether the injury attorney in Fort Lauderdale genuinely cares about your well-being and is passionate about securing justice for you. A compassionate lawyer will prioritize your best interests and work tirelessly to achieve a favorable outcome.

Track Record in Negotiations and Trials

Most personal injury cases are resolved through settlements, but there are instances where going to trial becomes necessary. A law firm in Fort Lauderdale with a strong reputation for both negotiation and litigation is invaluable. Skilled negotiators can often secure a fair settlement without prolonged legal battles, saving you time and stress.

However, if a trial is unavoidable, having a lawyer with courtroom experience and a history of successful verdicts can significantly impact the outcome. Ask potential attorneys about their trial experience and whether they are prepared to take your case to court if needed.

Customized Legal Strategies

Each personal injury case is unique, and cookie-cutter approaches often fall short. A top injury lawyer in Fort Lauderdale will take the time to understand the specifics of your situation and craft a tailored legal strategy. This includes gathering evidence, consulting experts, and identifying the most effective arguments to support your claim.

Look for a lawyer who demonstrates creativity and adaptability in their approach. Their ability to think strategically can make the difference between a mediocre settlement and a substantial award.

Conclusion

Finding the right personal injury lawyer in Fort Lauderdale requires careful consideration of their experience, reputation, communication skills, and resources. Taking the time to evaluate these factors ensures that you partner with an attorney who is committed to securing the justice and compensation you deserve. Remember, a skilled and dedicated lawyer can alleviate much of the stress associated with personal injury claims, allowing you to focus on your recovery.

[inmarketings]

McArthur Law Firm: Advocating for Your Rights After an Injury

McArthur Law Firm is a renowned personal injury law firm that has been advocating for the rights of injured individuals and their families for decades. With a team of experienced and skilled attorneys, the firm has established a reputation for providing exceptional representation and securing maximum compensation for their clients. If you or a loved one has been injured due to someone else's negligence or wrongdoing, McArthur Law Firm is here to help.

Expertise in Personal Injury Law

The attorneys at McArthur Law Firm specialize in personal injury law, with a focus on cases involving car accidents, traumatic brain injury lawyer accidents, medical malpractice, product liability, and wrongful death. They have extensive knowledge of the laws and regulations governing these types of cases and are well-equipped to handle even the most complex claims. With years of experience in negotiating with insurance companies and litigating cases in court, the firm's attorneys are dedicated to achieving the best possible outcomes for their clients.

Compassionate Representation

At McArthur Law Firm, the attorneys understand that every client is unique and deserves personalized attention. They take the time to listen to each client's story, answer their questions, and address their concerns. The firm's attorneys are compassionate and empathetic, recognizing that an injury can have a profound impact on an individual's life. They are committed to providing emotional support and guidance throughout the entire process, ensuring that each client feels valued and respected.

Investigating Your Claim

When you hire McArthur Law Firm to represent you, their team of investigators will thoroughly examine your claim to determine its validity and potential value. They will gather evidence, interview witnesses, review medical records, and consult with experts in relevant fields to build a strong case on your behalf. The firm's attorneys will also communicate with insurance companies and other parties involved in your case to negotiate a fair settlement or prepare for trial.

Maximizing Your Compensation

The primary goal at McArthur Law Firm is to secure maximum compensation for each client's injuries or losses. Their attorneys will work tirelessly to ensure that you receive fair reimbursement for medical expenses, lost wages, pain and suffering, emotional distress, and other damages related to your injury. They have a proven track record of achieving significant settlements and verdicts on behalf of their clients.

Trial Experience

While many personal injury cases settle out of court ,McArthur prepared take case trial necessary .Their experienced trial lawyers skilled presenting evidence arguing before judge jury .They confident ability persuade jurors return favorable verdicts .

Community Involvement

McArthur actively involved community supports various charitable organizations initiatives .Their commitment giving back reflects dedication helping those need extends beyond courtroom .

Conclusion

If you suffered injury someone else negligence wrongdoing essential seek advice experienced attorney can trust .McArthur dedicated protecting rights interests individuals families affected personal injuries provide exceptional representation compassionate support throughout entire process don hesitate contact them today schedule consultation learn more how can help