#court is trying to break the poker face

[avengerstower-houseplant]

It had been a bad night, and Matt’s inherent Catholic guilt was at an all time high. So, he positioned himself exactly where he thought he belonged.

On his knees.

Don’t mind me, I’ll just wilt in the corner… because holy fuck, Court. I have no idea how I am supposed to function after reading this, but this is one of those times where I am so fucking thankful that I have somewhat of a poker face when reading smut in public. Albeit you always seem to try and get that to crack, but goddamn it…

If Matt needs a volunteer for his next trick, count me right the fuck in because I just need that and it’s the perfect stress buster for finals season. So… you know… 😳🙋‍♀️

taste

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt just wants a taste.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: it’s thanksgiving here today, and despite my mixed feelings about this holiday, I am thankful for all of y’all. so, here’s a little treat from me to you bc I haven’t shown our favorite human disaster some love in awhile. 🖤

word count: 1.1k

Matt lost track of how long he’d had his head buried between your thighs. Your hair was still damp from your shower earlier, fresh notes of citrus and green apple lingering on the silk sheets. That coupled with the crisp sandalwood of his own cologne from the worn Columbia shirt of his you had stolen to bed intertwined with your own distinct scent lit a fire of desire within him. He’d discarded a layer of his black suit with every silent step he took descending the staircase that led up to the rooftop door.

It had been a bad night, and Matt’s inherent Catholic guilt was at an all time high. So, he positioned himself exactly where he thought he belonged.

On his knees.

Matt held your soft thighs in his rough, calloused hands, his warm tongue lazily tumbling over your swollen clit over and over again. He slipped his tongue through your soaked folds much like he had the first time he had really kissed you; when a sweet kiss good night had ended with your back firmly pressed up against your front door and the two of you panting into each other's mouths.

Angelic pleas for mercy had sounded from your lips in various intervals, but your greedy fingers continued to tug him just a little closer by tight grips on his chestnut strands. Neither one of you seemed to be able to quit the other. Matt’s nose was nuzzled against your public bone, and his plump lips were wrapped around your clit, alternating between suckling languidly at a pace that made your eyes roll into the back of your head and dragging his tongue up and down the length of your entire pussy meticulously.

Every time you let out a desperate chant of his name and rolled your hips up in a needy way in search of more, Matt groaned loudly and moved his own hips in tandem. He had been rutting against the mattress for God only knows how long now, the front of his briefs completely soaked from the weeping slit on the head of his throbbing cock. He’d never been so painfully hard in his life.

But Matt didn’t feel like he had earned a release yet.

Despite the several tangy coats of your arousal on his tongue, he wanted more. He needed just a little more.

Just one more, he told himself, then he’d finally let himself fuck you. But right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be. Face nestled against your pussy, feeling your heartbeat pounding against his welcoming tongue, smelling the scent that was uniquely you right under his nose, hearing the verbal reassurances of how much you needed him, and how badly you wanted him.

Praises of his name and confessions of love slowly lifted the self imposed weight that laid heavy on his chest like cement. If an angel like you believed the Devil deserved Heaven, then maybe he did. You didn’t ask for his penance, but he wanted to give it. He wanted to be worthy of being the man you made him feel like he was.

Matt ignored the ache in his jaw, and he whimpered against your core as his briefs snagged against the sensitive head of his cock just right. He wasn’t gonna last long. Not with the heavenly aroma of you surrounding his senses completely, the sweet sound of your pleasure hitting his ears, the thrum of your impending climax thundering against his tongue.

He never wanted to come up for air. If this was how he was going to die, drowning in the tidal wave of your gratification, then he’d die a happy man.

Matt used his index and middle finger to spread your slicked pussy apart, eagerly swirling his tongue around your pulsing nub before switching to flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across it like a metronome. God, you were so warm and soft, and so fucking wet. He couldn’t tell where his saliva ended and where your own essence started, but he didn’t fucking care. The only taste he wanted seared into his taste buds was yours anyway.

He delved his tongue as deep within your cunt as he could, fucking you with it sensually while his nose bumped against your overstimulated clit repeatedly. You were close again. He could tell by the hitch in your breaths and the quiver in your soft thighs that were enclosed tightly around his head.

Matt never felt like he deserved you, so he made it his personal mission to make sure he earned you.

As soon as another wave of your candied tang drenched his mouth and dripped down his stubbled chin, Matt exploded with a pathetic whimper, feeling his own sticky warmth coating his lower abdomen and the tops of his thighs. The only reason he pulled his face away from your cunt was because you weakly pushed at his shoulders with your trembling hands.

“Fuckfuckfuck…Matty…I can’t. I-God, I need a minute-“

The breathless pants sounding from your lips were an elegant symphony to his ears. He closed his eyes while resting his head on your smooth thigh, trying to catch his own breath. For several minutes neither of you said anything, just laid there tangled up in the sheets together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.

All of a sudden, Matt sensed a shift in you. He heard your eyes flutter open, and felt the way you shifted your head off the pillow to peer down at him in curiosity.

“Matty…did…did you-“

“Yeah.”

He didn’t bother hiding it. He wasn’t ashamed. He’d be pissed when the cloud of lust currently fogging up his brain eventually cleared and he realized he ruined yet another set of silk sheets, but right now, he was too satisfied to give a shit about anything other than this moment with you.

A melodic giggle immediately erupted from your chest, and Matt squeezed your thigh teasingly in retaliation which caused you to squeal.

“Hey! I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s actually quite flattering that you enjoy having your head between my thighs so much that you can come from that alone.”

“Sweetheart, you could make me come just by reading our grocery list.”

Another round of angelic giggles fell from your lips, and a quiet whine of disapproval sounded from Matt when he felt you shifting in bed. Much to his dismay, you moved your soft and warm thigh away from under his head, which caused him to purse his plush lips in a pout. But before he could even protest, you were gently pushing him onto his back and brushing your lips against the shell of his ear.

“Maybe I’ll test that theory later, but right now, I’d rather make you come with my mouth in a different way.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @thyme-in-a-bubble @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

[ophelia-writes-fics]

you're screwed up and brilliant, look like a million dollar man [kilgrave x reader - 18+]

A second run-in with Kilgrave leaves you reeling.

Tags (please read!): smut, fem!reader, AFAB!reader, mind control kink, mentions of marking during sex, fear, implied fear kink, degradation, some praise (but mostly mixed with degradation), humiliation, humiliation/degradation kink, hair pulling, edging, begging, frottage, handjobs, overstimulation, like a LOT of overstimulation, i cannot emphasize the overstimulation enough, possessiveness, light face slapping, mirror sex, riding, clit slapping, painplay, spanking, sadism (kilgrave), masochism (reader), multiple orgasms, a frankly unrealistic amount of orgasms

Word Count: ~6.3k

TWs/CWs:

super dubious consent. like last time, reader is into everything without being compelled (with one smallish exception if you squint?), but again, it's not negotiated

unprotected sex

mind control/mind altering

Kilgrave is still a walking red flag (and we love him anyways <3)

(as always, talk to your partners, get consent, etc :))

part one here

It had been a long, exhausting week since you last saw the man known only to you as Kilgrave. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him since your last encounter, not just because you’d had to take the next few days off of work afterwards — your boss was worried that getting up onstage covered in bruises, scratches, and bite marks might send the wrong message to the patrons of the club. She’d been worried about you too, but you’d assured her that everything was fine. Which it was. The other reason you couldn’t stop thinking about him was because you desperately wanted to see him again. 

However, you still needed money, so having time off at your night job meant picking up evening shifts at your day job, which was bartending at a casino on the other side of town. It was Thursday, which meant the place was absolutely deserted, and the patrons who did show up were barely drinking anything. The past two hours of your shift had involved nothing but standing behind a bar, staring into space, and wiping down the pristine counter every few minutes in an attempt to look busy.

However, you were snapped out of your mindless rhythm when your coworker tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey,” she said, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “So, my break is coming up and I’m super tired and I really wanna take it, but there’s some weird shit going on in there.” She jerked her head towards the main room. “There’s this guy at the poker table? He keeps winning with the worst fucking hands I’ve ever seen, and it’s, like, insane amounts of money. Way more than I’ve ever seen anyone come in here with. Could you take over for me for, like, 20 minutes? And could you keep an eye on them and tell me what happens when I get back?” 

Damn it. 

There was one man you knew who could definitely win at high-stakes poker with the worst hands imaginable. You didn’t know for sure, but you had a sneaking suspicion that was only growing that you’d be seeing him sooner than you’d previously expected. 

You took the champagne bottle from your coworker’s hands without a second thought and walked into the main room, bracing yourself for whatever waited inside. 

The moment you stepped through the door, all your suspicions were confirmed. Even with his back turned to you, you could practically feel his presence in the air. 

Right there, holding court in the center of the room, sitting at the head of a table covered in poker chips and stacks of cash, was Kilgrave. 

You sighed. Goddamn it, you thought to yourself. As captivating as he was, you were still technically on the job, and you’d get fired if the house lost that much money on your watch. You’d get in extra trouble if anyone found out someone had cheated their way into getting it. Your mind raced as you tried to formulate a strategy. 

Okay. You can’t try to kick him out. If you call security, he’ll just tell them to fuck off and they will. You can’t tell the dealer, because there’s no way he’ll believe that the other players have been mind controlled. Besides, you can’t call attention to yourself. He’ll recognize you. Unless…

An idea clicked in your head. 

There’s no way he’d give up that kind of money, unless he had something better to tempt him.

You weren’t sure it would work, but if it did, well… it was a win-win situation, wasn’t it? 

You slowly crept up to the table. No one spared you more than a passing glance, including Kilgrave, whose eyes were firmly on the cards in front of him. You snuck a look over his shoulder as you approached. He really did have the worst hand imaginable. It was almost funny. 

You took a breath to steady yourself, then softly cleared your throat as you placed a hand on his shoulder. 

You’d been expecting a few different reactions, but you didn’t expect him to shake you off without even looking up. 

Oh, of course he’s a dick to waitresses. It deeply annoyed you that, somehow, this didn’t make you want to fuck him less. Irritated, without giving it a second thought, you gave him a light, backhanded smack on the arm. 

The table went silent. That got his attention. 

He turned around to face you. His expression, which had started as a mix of bewilderment and anger, quickly shifted to one of alarmed recognition. He blinked once, his brow furrowing. 

“It’s you,” he said, his tone unreadable. 

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “It’s me,” you replied. 

Kilgrave stared you down for a moment. You desperately wanted to break eye contact, for him to forget you were ever there, to just go back to work, until suddenly, his expression changed slightly, and he turned to face the men at the table, setting his cards down. 

“Right. I’m leaving. Do not get up from this table, and don’t cheat. We’ll continue this game when I get back.”

He stood up and took your arm, pulling you away. 

“Are you really just going to leave them there?” You craned your neck to try and see if his command had worked, and sure enough, everyone remained seated and still. A knot formed in your stomach. 

He didn’t answer as he pulled you out of the room and down the hallway to the coat check, snapping his fingers at the employee behind the counter. 

“You. Take over for her. Serve champagne, clean tables, whatever it is she does.” Kilgrave plucked the bottle of champagne from your hand and thrust it at the checker. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding it. “Close the coat check. We’ll be going back there. Don’t bother us.” And with that, he breezed past, pulling you into the coatroom with him and slamming the door behind you both. 

The moment the door was shut, Kilgrave cornered you against a wall — not touching you, but close enough that he could grab you if you tried to leave. 

“What are you doing here?” he hissed. 

“I work here!” you replied indignantly. 

“Tell the truth.”

“I. Work. Here. It’s my day job.” 

His posture relaxed slightly, but he still didn’t step back. 

“Did you follow me here?” 

“No,” you answered, keeping your tone as calm as possible. You just hang around shady establishments a lot, apparently, you added silently. 

He leaned back a bit. 

“Why did you approach me?” 

“Because you were illegally winning a ton of money off the house and I don’t want to get fired,” you huffed, before somewhat reluctantly muttering, “And I wanted you to fuck me again.”

“Repeat that last bit?” 

“I wanted you to fuck me again,” you snapped, a bit louder than you’d meant to. “But frankly, right now I’m not in the mood anymore.”

He pursed his lips. “Why not?” 

“Because you’re keeping those people prisoner in there!”

“Which people?” 

You stared at him in disbelief, trying to gauge whether or not he was messing with you. Shockingly, his confusion seemed completely sincere. “Those men at the poker table. Are you just going to make them sit there for however long you’re gone?” 

He glanced in the direction of the casino and sighed with irritation, as if he’d just remembered they were there, before shaking it off with a slight roll of his eyes. 

“Forget about them. Come upstairs with me.”

Your brain filled with that all-too-familiar cold fog. It felt like you had tripped going up the stairs - your whole body was thrown off balance, your heart raced, and your thoughts raced to catch up after the interruption. What had you been thinking about? Something about the main room? 

You must have been worried about someone covering for your coworker. Yes, that seemed right. He’d told someone to do it, hadn’t he? Yes, he had. Then it was fine. There was nothing to worry about. 

With that, your brain fog cleared, and your worries went with it. You realized you were trailing behind him as he walked towards the elevators. 

As you passed the entrance to the casino itself, you turned your head slightly and peeked into the room. You cocked your head. Huh. I wonder what all those guys are doing just sitting at that table. I don’t think they were there before.

-

When the elevator arrived at the top floor, Kilgrave walked ahead of you along the hallway to the penthouse suite at the very end, pointing you towards the bed once you were inside. 

You grinned, reclining on your back and supporting yourself on your elbows as you kicked off your shoes, watching him shrug off his jacket and undo his belt before sitting down at the armchair in the corner of the room. 

He then turned his gaze toward you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Stand up,” he ordered, as if it should have been obvious. You obeyed, and it felt like second nature by now. You felt the cold hardwood floor under your feet, even through your stockings, and you couldn’t help but turn your gaze slightly downward as he observed you, scanning you up and down for any imperfections. 

He sighed. “No, no, this won’t do.” 

Your heart dropped. He couldn’t be bored of you already, could he? You felt slightly panicky, as the reality of what he could do caught up to you again. Would he make you forget everything you’d done that day? Forget he existed? Would he kill you? Your mind raced as you tried to figure out if you could run before he ordered you to do anything. You felt your muscles tensing, preparing to bolt at a moment’s notice. 

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded, keeping his dark eyes on you. 

Your whole body flooded with relief and arousal. You briefly scolded yourself as you quickly stripped out of your uniform, the rational side of your brain reminding you that worrying that he was going to kill you if he was even slightly dissatisfied with you is probably a red flag before the horny side of your brain dismissed the thought with a well, he didn’t, and you don’t know he would, so it’s probably fine. 

You stood bare before him, hands clasped in front of you, obediently awaiting his instructions. He beckoned you over with a small motion of his finger, and you sank to your knees in front of him. You fidgeted nervously as he watched you, biting your lip as you worked up the nerve to ask him for what you wanted most. 

“Could you, um…could you do that…thing again?” 

His brows raised slightly. “What ‘thing’?” 

“The thing where you…um…command me, or whatever it is you call it. The mind control thing.” You hesitated before adding a quiet “please.” 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, if you were expecting any response at all, but one of the last items on your list of things you were expecting to come out of Kilgrave’s mouth was a short, shocked, high-pitched laugh. A grin spread across his face as he stared down at you, and you felt a fluttering in your chest. 

“You really would let me do whatever I want to you.” It was a statement, not a question, but you nodded vigorously anyway. “God, that’s disgusting. You’re so desperate to get off that you’d cum your brains out if I mind controlled you?!” 

You squirmed, face burning as you clenched your thighs, and he laughed again. You felt pathetic, and it made your cunt ache for him. 

He considered you for a moment—you could practically feel him wondering what exactly he should do with you— before stretching one leg in out front of him, positioning himself so that the toe of his brand-new, expensive-looking leather dress shoe was just barely starting to press into your clit. You kept completely still, waiting for his orders, your body alight with anticipation.

“You want to get off that badly, then do it,” Kilgrave said, his bored tone only thinly veiling his enthusiasm to watch. 

You wasted no time, desperately rubbing yourself against him the minute you were permitted to, grinding your sensitive clit against the black leather. You bit your lip, moaning in humiliated arousal at the feeling, watching as your pussy dripped with need all over the supple material as you fucked yourself stupid. 

You felt Kilgrave’s hand in your hair, pulling you closer and shoving your cheek against his knee, holding you in place and keeping your eyes on him as you rutted against him. 

“You’re filthy,” he rasped, pressing his foot into your clit harder as you watched his arousal grow. “You’re disgusting, getting off like this, riding my fucking shoe, it’s fucking vile. God, I just want to watch you do that for hours…and you would, wouldn’t you? If I ordered you, you’d do it. I don’t think I’d even have to control you, I think you just want it that badly. Such a depraved little thing, aren’t you?” 

You nodded, and he smiled at you. 

“Of course you are. Keep going. Don’t you dare stop. I don’t care how sore you get, you’re going to keep going until you wear yourself out. Do you hear me?” He pulled your hair tighter, turning your face to him for emphasis. “Nod if you understand me.” 

You obeyed, feeling the friction against your cheek as you nodded again. You kept going, desperately chasing your orgasm, your senses blurring into a pleasured haze as your eyes rolled back, when without warning, your whole body seized, harshly stopping your motions. It took your brain a moment to process that Kilgrave had told you to stop. You looked up at him, and you must have looked as betrayed as you felt, because a self-satisfied smile appeared across his face. 

“Oh, sorry,” he mocked, mimicking your affronted pout before his grin returned. “It just looked like you were getting close. I wanted to remind you that I didn’t say you could cum.” 

You whined in protest, but the sound was cut off when Kilgrave pressed his hand over your mouth. He leaned back once you were quiet, his detached demeanor only slightly interrupted by the visible outline of his hard cock in his pants. 

“Keep going, but don’t cum. You don’t deserve it yet.” 

You obeyed. Of course you did. Your body betrayed you, automatically stopping you before you could cum, each time getting just that little bit closer before it was ripped away, over and over again until you lost count. It was torture, and although you would have done anything for it to end, you couldn’t get enough, drinking in every sensation at once. All the while, Kilgrave watched you intently, only speaking when you began to beg after what you thought was your seventh time being edged, although you’d long since lost count. 

“Kilgrave, p-please, I can’t anymore, it’s too much, I’m going to break, I can’t take any more!” 

He gave you a mocking little frown in response. “What a shame. I thought you were tougher than that.” 

“I am, I can be! I just — ahh! Please, please, I just want it so bad…” 

“Oh, is that it? You just want it so badly? In that case…” He patted your head, which would have made you melt if it hadn’t been so condescending. “You can make yourself useful, can’t you? Use that empty head of yours and think of something you can do to earn it.” 

You didn’t dare stop rubbing against him, afraid you’d be punished if you stopped edging yourself for even a moment, so you kept going, the torturous friction of the fabric of his trousers against your clit making your heart pound as you leaned forward to undo his belt and take his cock in your hand. 

He offered nothing more than a small moan from between clenched teeth in response, but that was all you needed. You stroked his cock, slowly and gently at first, watching him as closely as you could. You followed every cue his body gave you - every small motion, every sharp breath, every thrust of his hips - chasing them, desperate for more. You wanted to earn it. You needed to earn it. Your body longed for it like oxygen, longed for approval, for your orgasm, for his cock finally inside you again. 

You stroked him harder; slow, steady motions that lavished him with attention and calmed your shaking hands. Judging by the way he gripped the arm of the chair, he seemed to be nearly as close as you were. You sped up both your hips and your hand, trying to finish him off before he could rip your pleasure away again, moving entirely on instinct and desperation. However, as you neared your peak, you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you away. You looked up, your vision slightly cloudy, prepared to beg him not to stop you, but the command never came. All he did was look back at you, eagerly watching as you fucked yourself against him. 

You refused to let your opportunity slip away. Unless he forced you not to, then you were going to cum. You sped up, ignoring the ache in your muscles. Your hips stuttered and ground against him harder, rubbing your clit with short, rough little thrusts. Your vision was completely out of focus now, your eyes half-lidded — your brain was too fucked out to function properly, let alone see clearly. Every bit of your body burned, but all you could do was keep going and going and going, getting closer and closer, your breath coming in quick gasps as you rapidly approached your peak, and he still didn’t stop you.  

Your entire body tensed as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, muscles trembling from being clenched so tightly for so unbearably long. You gave a strangled moan that became a wail as the sensation fully washed over you, and you collapsed against Kilgrave, your hips still erratically jerking against him. You felt overwhelming relief as he let go of your hair; the sudden loss of tension made you realize how tightly he’d been holding on. He shoved your chin upward with his knee, forcing you to make eye contact. 

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, and your stomach dropped. You were thoroughly worn out and so overstimulated it hurt, but the look in Kilgrave’s eyes told you that you weren’t getting a break. 

You clambered unsteadily to your feet, nearly falling twice, legs still shaking. You barely managed to get upright enough to collapse facedown onto the duvet. 

You moaned weakly, feeling Kilgrave’s hands around your hips before he flipped you over so that you were facing him. He leaned in close, lips nearly touching yours, his hands holding your wrists in place by your head, his cock pressing against your clit in a way that had you fighting your own instincts to squirm away from the overstimulation.  

“Now, did you follow my orders from last time?” 

Your mind raced to clear away the exhaustion as you tried to remember the request he’d given you the last time you met, and you nodded. “I haven’t slept with anyone else,” you panted as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Hmm,” Kilgrave purred, letting go of one wrist to tangle his fingers in your hair. “And why is that?” 

You blinked in confusion. “Because…you told me to?” 

Kilgrave clicked his tongue once in disapproval. “No, no, that can’t be it,” he said, his expression one of feigned contemplation. “Any order I give wears off after twelve hours. You wouldn’t know that, of course,” he gave you a quick glance before continuing, “So you must have not wanted to.” 

For some reason, you’d assumed that his commands lasted longer. Looking back, it was odd that you couldn’t tell when whatever power he had wore off. But he was right, you supposed. Whether the thought was originally yours or not, you hadn’t wanted to fuck anyone else for at least six days after the command would have worn off, so you hadn’t. 

You nodded in agreement, a bit dazed. It was so hard to focus with him touching you. 

“And why didn’t you want to?” 

That you didn’t have an answer prepared for. 

“Um…I…just didn’t?” Your response came out like a question. 

“Hmm, not quite.” Kilgrave tilted his head slightly to one side, waiting for another answer, but when you stayed quiet, he leaned in further, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“The correct answer,” he whispered, his tone growing dangerous, “is that you don’t want to fuck anyone else because you’re mine. Isn’t that right?” 

The familiar brain fog took over as you felt a warmth in the pit of your stomach. “Yes, it is,” you replied instinctually. 

“Then say it.” 

“I’m yours, Kilgrave.” 

“Again.” 

“I’m yours! Now please, please fuck me, or I swear to god I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” His tone darkened. 

You bit your lip. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what you could do against him. You couldn’t overpower him. You wouldn’t ever want to. 

He reached up and slapped your face — lightly, but hard enough to know that he wasn’t afraid to take things further if you didn’t cooperate. 

“Answer me, slut. What exactly are you going to do to me if I don’t fuck you right now?” 

Your mouth opened of its own accord at his command. “Nothing,” you choked out. “I won’t do anything. I’ll be good.” 

Kilgrave rewarded you with a satisfied “hmm” and a smug smile before pulling away. 

“Show me your neck,” he ordered. 

Confused and a bit terrified, but in no position to argue, you craned your chin upward, closing your eyes as you exposed your most vulnerable flesh to the man above you. You could feel your pulse jump, just below your sensitive skin. You couldn’t hold back a shiver when Kilgrave ran his fingertips, gently and slowly, down the column of your throat, over the nearly-faded bruises he’d left the last time you saw each other. 

He went still for a moment, lingering on the prints of his fingers on your skin before pressing down ever-so-slightly. 

You gasped, but managed to keep yourself from squirming as Kilgrave wrapped his slender hand around your neck, not hard enough to choke you, but enough to make you need to take a deeper breath than normal. You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your thighs together and willing yourself to be patient, before you felt Kilgrave’s other hand shove your legs apart before slamming two fingers into you. Your body jerked involuntarily as he roughly scissored them, thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling away entirely and sitting down on the edge of the bed. You glanced up at him, slightly confused. 

“Come here,” he ordered, patting his leg in a clear invitation for you. “Face the mirror.”

You obeyed, struggling to move on your still-shaky legs, situating yourself so that your back was to him as you lowered yourself onto his lap. You gasped as you felt Kilgrave press his cock into you as you did so, impatiently forcing you backwards so that he was buried deep in your cunt with barely a moment for you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. His hands grasped your inner thighs, pulling them apart roughly so that you had no choice but to watch yourself being fucked. He leaned in close, biting your neck before ordering: 

“Ride me. I don’t care if your legs hurt. Don’t stop fucking yourself until I tell you to.”

You were in no position to disobey. You moved as best you could, still trying to stay as close as possible to him, grinding your hips against his lap, closing your eyes as you felt him hit your most sensitive spot. He moved his legs so that they were keeping yours wide open, pinning you right where he wanted you. He grabbed your chin roughly and forced your half-lidded gaze towards the mirror on the wall in front of you. 

“Look at yourself. Look at you, getting fucked by a complete stranger. It’s pathetic. I absolutely ruined you the last time we met and you loved it so much, you just couldn’t help but bother me while I was working, eh? Oh, you must have been desperate for me,” he murmured through clenched teeth as he fucked into you, jerking his hips upward. “No one else can fuck you like this, can they? I’m the only one who can control you the way you love so much, so I’m the only one who gets to fuck you. Isn’t that right?”

There was that possessiveness again, making your heart beat faster than it already was. You reached upward, clutching the hand that held your face, and leaned back into him. 

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes, I’m yours, I’m yours, Kilgrave…” 

His name fell from your lips like a prayer as he fucked you. You worked your hips, bouncing up and down on his cock. Your eyes stayed glued to yourself in the mirror, staring at your fucked-out reflection, thoroughly mesmerized by the sight of his dick inside you. One of his hands wandered to your hip, gripping it hard; you could feel his nails digging little crescent marks in your skin. His other hand found its place at your clit, delicately massaging it with light, little circles, teasing you, tormenting you.

You arched your back in a silent plea for more, your moan becoming a sharp yelp when his hand came down hard and slapped your clit at full force. 

Your legs automatically tried to close, but Kilgrave had you firmly kept in place. He leaned upward, pulling you close, your back pressed firmly against his chest. 

“Oh, what’s the matter, sweetheart? Is it too much?” 

You paused, considering it, then nodded weakly, your eyes screwed shut. Your heart had skipped a beat at the pet name, but you had more pressing matters at hand. 

“Really? You came like a whore when I hit you with a fucking belt, but if I slap your cunt just a bit too hard, then you start whining?” 

You nodded again, feeling thoroughly humiliated. 

Kilgrave hummed in satisfaction. “Mmm. That’s too bad, I suppose. You’ll have to learn to like it.” 

You whimpered and writhed as another hit came, then  another. You moaned, starting to feel the stinging pain give way to a wave of pleasure, but still you trembled, completely overwhelmed. 

“See? Look at you. You’re desperate for it. I know how much you love it when I hit you. Stop squirming and let me give you what you want.” 

Your body relaxed involuntarily, eyes automatically locking onto yourself in the mirror. Again his hand came down, and your hips jumped forward, anticipating it.

You bit your lip as the stinging pain slowly settled into a pleasurable tingling feeling, watching as your clit grew bright red and slightly swollen as Kilgrave kept going, slap after slap after slap until you were gasping for air, jerking your hips against nothing in a desperate bid to cum, your head spinning. 

He stroked your clit with the tip of his index finger, just the barest of touches, but it was enough to make you flinch at the sensitivity. You groaned, but you still thrust your hips forward, wanting more. 

“Oh, look at that. Feels good, doesn’t it? Greedy fucking whore.” He punctuated the sentence with one final, harsh slap before pulling out and moving you off his lap.

You tumbled limply, until you landed in the middle of the bed, facedown and panting, feeling your abused clit throb pleasurably with every heartbeat. You didn’t even have time to try and take a full breath before you felt Kilgrave position himself above you, his cock brushing at your entrance. 

 “Are you gonna be good for me?” he murmured close to your ear. 

You nodded, and you felt him lean closer, his teeth grazing your neck before he spoke again. 

“Then tell me what you’re going to let me do.” 

You exhaled a moan before taking a shaky breath in. “Whatever you want to do. I can take it.”

“Is that so?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you sighed. You wriggled your hips, trying to maneuver yourself back onto his cock. “Just fuck me, I’ve been thinking about you all week — oh my fucking god!” 

Kilgrave had grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back, forcing himself inside of you with a deep moan that was almost a growl as he did so. You frantically moved to match his pace, throwing your hips back against his to meet every brutal thrust. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him fuck against your most sensitive spot, over and over and over again, never letting up, never faltering. 

He slapped your ass once, twice, three times before ordering you to cum. No teasing, no making you beg, just one simple order: “Cum.” And you obeyed, grinding out your orgasm, keening with pleasure as you did so. 

It was nearly a full minute before your brain started working again and you realized he hadn’t stopped fucking you. Your thoughts were hazy, but you had the vague feeling that that was odd. You remembered last time, and how he’d refused to let you cum until he was right on the edge. So, you mused vaguely, you’d figured he was close, but he was still going.

However, you didn’t have any time to think about it any further, because he was ordering you to cum again - the same way, just one blunt command. 

“Cum.” 

And your body obeyed without warning. 

You normally needed more time between orgasms; your body was still reeling from the last one. And yet, you still found yourself cumming, trembling from the force of it, your cunt clenching onto him desperately. 

Your shaky hands faltered where they gripped the sheets and you briefly scrambled to try and hold yourself upright, but your efforts were in vain. The minute you thought your body was stable, the command came again. 

“Cum.”

This time, you completely let go. There was no way you could have even tried to hold yourself together. The pleasure was blinding you, making your heart skip a beat as it raced in your chest. You fell forward, burying your face in the sheets. The only thing holding your hips upright was Kilgrave, his grip on you holding firm even as you convulsed, unable to regain control of your exhausted muscles.

You were nearly hyperventilating now, your breath coming fast and hard as you turned your face to the side and desperately tried to get words out. 

“Wh…what…what the f….fuck are y…you…doing to me?”

You couldn’t see Kilgrave, but you heard the grin in his voice, even as he panted with the exertion of fucking you. 

“You said I could do whatever I wanted. What I want is to see how many times you can cum before you tire yourself out. I’m not going to stop until you can’t move, and you don’t get my cum inside you until then. Besides, being mind controlled makes you a complete slut anyway, doesn’t it? You’d do it, whether I commanded you to or not. Now be a good girl and cum.”

And your body obeyed without question. 

You bit down on the sheets to keep from biting your tongue, half-pained moans of overwhelming bliss escaping from your throat in guttural, needy cries. You couldn’t feel your legs anymore; you had no idea how your lower half was still upright, and you could feel every nerve in your overstimulated cunt begging for a moment of rest that never came. 

For what felt like hours and hours, every time you started to come down from your last orgasm, Kilgrave would order another from you, and you had no choice but to comply. Eventually, your shaking legs gave in, but he just maneuvered you onto your back without hesitation and kept going. 

Around the time of what you thought must have been the eighth one (although there was no way you could have kept track at that point), you mustered every single bit of your strength to try and resist his orders. You held out for as long as you possibly could, letting the cold fog fill your head for as much as you could bear it, your entire body shaking with the effort, until you cracked and the torturous pleasure flooded you, leaving you even more of a wreck than you had been before. Even worse (even better?), the feeling of being mind-controlled by him acted like a direct line to your brain’s pleasure center, and trying to disobey only made the feeling intensify the longer you tried to resist. Whenever you finally let go, your orgasms only got stronger. And the stronger they got, the more vicious Kilgrave became, taunting you as he fucked your dripping cunt: 

“Oh, yes, take it, just like that, we both know how much you love getting fucked like this…oh, are you trying to resist again? That’s precious. Fine, struggle all you like, you know you’re going to cum anyway, don’t you? There you are, just cum for me. Let it all out. It feels so good, doesn’t it? I know, it feels so good for you to be treated like a slut. God, look at your cute little cunt, leaking all over me, making such a fucking mess. Keep taking it. This is where you belong, isn’t it? Getting impaled on my cock. You’re all mine, all fucking mine. Cum for me, cum for me…such a good girl…fuck, you’re so tight, how are you still so tight after being fucked for this long? It’s like you were made for me, made to get fucked by me. God, I love hearing you scream for me…I don’t even think I’d have to tell you to cum at this point, I think you’d just keep going all on your own, wouldn’t you? Mmm, of course you would. But I know what you’d like more than that. You want me to order you to, don’t you? Come on, beg for it…ask nicely…there you go, I’ve trained you so well, haven’t I? Go on then, cum for me…”

Finally, finally, long after every single one of your senses had been dulled into near-nonexistence, long after your dripping pussy had gone numb with overstimulation, and long after you stopped being able to process anything Kilgrave said, your jerking muscles gave into exhaustion and collapsed, leaving you unable to do anything but moan quietly, your voice having gone hoarse ages ago.

As your cunt twitched weakly with what you prayed would be your final orgasm of the night, you felt Kilgrave’s grasp on you tighten. Through your blurred vision, you saw him throw his head back in ecstasy as he came deep, deep inside you. 

Your eyes rolled back and your lids fluttered shut as he pulled out of you, the relief so intense you would have cried if you hadn’t been so worn out. 

You heard soft footsteps as he made his way to the side of the bed, then felt his hand brush something wet from the corner of your mouth. You felt slightly embarrassed at the realization that you were so fucked out that you’d started drooling. 

You mustered your last bit of energy to crack one eye slightly open. 

“Thank you,” you sighed, your lips curving into a smile as your eyes shut again. You thought you felt a hand brush your hair, but you couldn’t tell - you were already half asleep and dreaming. 

-

When you woke up, it was well past midnight. Your shift had ended hours ago. You groaned as you stretched your sore muscles and rolled over in bed. You were briefly surprised at the realization that you were under the covers, before deciding that you must have pulled them up around you in your sleep. You didn’t let yourself consider the alternative, or that you’d woken up in the exact same position you’d fallen asleep in. 

You blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust your vision to the dark. You weren’t expecting to see Kilgrave there, but his absence still caused a slight pang of hurt. Still, you figured, no one had come up to clean out the room or kick you out since he had, so he had at least booked it for the night. You decided to take advantage of it as your exhaustion caught up with you again and you sank back into a deep, deep sleep.  

-

You woke up a full twelve hours later at noon the next day. Thank god it’s my day off, you thought to yourself as you gingerly got out of bed. You slowly put on your uniform, picking it up from where you’d left it on the floor, wincing as you moved. Still, despite the slight ache that you felt all over, you’d slept better than you had in ages. 

As you smoothed your skirt down, you felt an odd texture inside one of the pockets, a slight crinkling that gave you pause. You felt your heartbeat quicken as you pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. You slowly, anxiously unfolded it to find three sentences written in pencil. The first was an address — based on the street name, you knew it was downtown, in an incredibly expensive neighborhood. You felt a grin spread across your face as you read the rest of the note:

“Save me the trouble of coming to your job again. 8:00 pm tomorrow.

-K.”

You knew exactly where you were going to be tomorrow.

A/N: i literally cannot thank you guys enough for sticking with this, i know the wait has been absolutely insane, but i really do love writing for you guys, and i want to thank each and every one of you for reading <3 as always, my requests are open, and feel free to like/comment/rb if you enjoyed this fic :)) thank you all again for your patience and for all the love - i had NO idea my first kilgrave fic would blow up so much, but i'm delighted that it did!

🍓 the title of this fic is from million dollar man by lana del rey 🍓

[wisttwist]

jester's privilege

(past) nebu (nathaniel) & reader, morningstar (ithaqua) & reader cliche scene where the hero enters the defeated kings bedroom and all the concubines are crawling all over him but instead of a dozen concubines trying to seduce him it's a single crusty manservant making middle school tier jokes warnings: mentions of canon typical war crimes etc

...

There was a small, breathtakingly ugly cushion in the corner of the room, bright primary colours clashing with the creams and golds of the late Tower Lord's interior design (which was also ugly, Helel would like to append).

A similarly small and breathtakingly ugly servant (?) sits on this cushion, presently engaged in thrilling (mind numbing) icebreakers (he would like to break some ice over your head, yes) with the Sun Eater as he idly turned over Nebuchadnezzar's royal paraphernalia.

"So he doesn't bed you and you aren't politically valuable. Then why are you in here, and not out there?" He gestures to the smoke from the mines, visible from the tower window.

"He doesn't send me to the quarries because I'm special. I'm his special boy."

"He calls you that?"

"No."

Helel made the temporary generalization that conversation with you was a waste of oxygen and stalks off to continue his inspection of the room, deaf to your remarks.

A voice comes from right behind his shoulder. "What do I call you?" Somehow, you'd soundlessly traversed the cluttered floor to stand uncomfortably close.

He scowls. So much for ignoring you. "Don't you know who I am?"

"I do live in a cell." You mumble, picking your nose and wiping the snot on your pants.

For a second, the Eclipse considers retelling the story of his conquest for the nth time but honestly, he wasn't sure how much more gloating he could wring out of it, especially with this audience. "It doesn't matter who I am. Just know that I'm the new king."

"Your voice is very familiar."

"No it's not."

"Very well. It's not." You fidget on the spot, bell-studded clothes jingling. "Do I call you sire? Or are you more formal?"

"Do as you wish."

Satisfied with his vague and minimalist answers, he returns to his prior task of sorting through the Sun King's old shit; mentally categorizing them for later: keep, trash, take to the thrift store, incinerate. Surveying the shelves, he sighs. This would be a lengthy task.

…

"Do you want a tour?" Breathing on the back of his neck, again. Uncomfortably close, again.

Helel gives you a firm push back. "No."

"Are you still wondering what my purpose was?" You chirp, undeterred as ever.

"If I recall correctly, the Sun King already had a clown in his court. I freed him way back when." Maybe if Helel paid more attention to that event, he'd note that the Encroached did mention an irritating bell-wearing obstacle between him and his master. Not that you can prepare for this brand of mild but persistent evil. "But considering this room is full of useless junk, it's not hard to guess why you're here."

Ignoring his jab, you sidle close once more, plotting another invasion attempt on his personal space. "Jesters and clowns are two different things."

Yeah, you were different. The other guy was less annoying. Mercifully, he elects to give a noncommittal grunt instead of mentioning this detail, hoping that you'll lose interest in trying to continue your conversation.

The Sun Eater lifts up a decanter of mystery fluid (pale and golden like everything else). He's about to lean in to give it a smell test when you stop him. "That's not wine, sire."

Owlishly, his head swivels around to face you.

You close your eyes sagely and pause for dramatic effect, wasting more of Helel's time on waiting for you to elaborate. "It's pee."

The decanter shatters on the floor. You watch him frantically wipe his hands off on the expensive curtains. "What the fuck?"

A good poker face is a crucial survival skill for your occupation, but given your employer is currently burning in hell, you are very much off the clock right now. You double over with laughter. "Oh heavens, sire. You're too gullible, oh stars and suns, oh- Oh!"

Helel's clawed hand yanks you up by the hair. "Are you five years old. Greater men have died for lesser-"

"Let me down, please, sire!" The twinge of stifled laughter slurring your pleas for your life don't help your case. "I'm sorry! Please!"

You're dropped in a crumpled, jingling heap on the floor. Briefly, the Morning Star considers sending you to the gallows, but is it really worth the effort? Your transgressions, frequent as they were, weren't significant enough for that. Besides, on a smaller level he won't admit, his pride refuses to let you get to him. "I'll take you up on the tour offer." He declares with finality, crossing his arms. "You touch everything before I do."

"Yes, sire!" You jump up to attention, back ramrod straight in a mockery of military obedience. "Does that make me the royal toucher? Or king's toucher? That's like being a king's taster but instead of tasting-"

Your voice trails off as you feel Helel's glare burning through his mask and into your skull.

"Ahem. On the left, we have war spoils from the southeastern peninsula…"

… 

Truly, the home renovation aspect of overthrowing corrupt tyrants is underestimated. The remainder of the afternoon was spent sorting doohickeys into piles in the middle of the floor for future storage. Or rather, Helel did the majority of the heavy lifting while you (un)helpfully stood in the corner, regaling him with tales of the previous regime and the exact happenings of court life. He wants to tell you to stop talking for 5 minutes and do something useful but you would probably cite the importance of 'moral support' and try to weasel your way out of it. Besides, even if you were trying to do something of substance, it probably involved inventing new ways to fuck up moving furniture, fiddling with his temper even further. You were like a mosquito, he decides. Too little to do real damage, too much to be ignored.

"There was this one time I was doing a bit about his virility and he said he could prove me wrong right there if I wanted." You were presently cross legged on an intricate rug (tribute from the Sun King's unfortunate allies), juggling a series of crystal balls (priceless artifacts, stained with blood by the 'divine' conqueror). "So I said 'You should know that I'm a eunuch', and he went, 'It doesn't matter.' We were hilarious."

The Usurper scratches his chin, half listening. It didn't sound hilarious, just weird. "You're sure he didn't bed you?"

"A joke is just a joke, you know."

"Okay. Just checking." Helel paused. "Then are you really a eunuch?"

"Are you gonna check that too?"

"No." You were really getting your money's worth from that previous temporary generalization.

…

After the walls and shelves were bare, and the loot was bundled up in leather bags, the Eclipse sank into one of the plush chairs, kicking his feet onto the table and massaging his temples. With any luck, you were as tired as he was, and he could slip away while you rested.

You yawned. "Ahh. That's enough for one day, I think." Helel watched as you plopped back down on your hideous cushion, procuring a lit pipe from thin air and taking a hefty drag. "Will you be looking for new furnishings?"

"Probably. This stuff is way too tacky."

A wisp of smoke drifts past, and the Morning Star feels that tell-tale foreboding feeling behind his shoulder again. "Will you be looking for new castle staff?" You bat your eyelashes.

He meets your expectant gaze with the exhaustion of someone who just fought another war and lost. "You're staying?"

Deliberately misinterpreting his question as a statement, you perk up, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, I can't refuse a direct order such as that! Especially not from his most esteemed, illustrious (and if I may add, very handsome) Majesty!" Bowing at the waist with a bell-bedecked flourish, you shoot back to eye level with hands clasped, nearly butting him in the head with your stupid hat. "When do I start work?"

...

(jump cut to jester being tossed out of tower window) this is too long to be funny but idc anymore. next time i'll write romance but i needed to fulfill my desire to annoy him

[smok3r7]

One Door Closes & Another One Opens

Joel x OFC!Divorce Lawyer

Explicit, 18+

Wolf vs Bear

Main MasterList & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: She’s a divorce attorney and he’s a husband looking for help to save his daughter, and himself, from his gambling addict wife. Renae Russo is a woman who fights for her clients and wins. She’s satisfied with her life and what she does - but she wishes she could have a little more. What happens when Joel Miller becomes her client and an old flame of Renae’s reignites in the same breath?

Chapter Summary: Things get nasty in court and Renae realizes she has to let go of what could’ve been.

Word count: 5.3k

—

Annie has always been known for her determination and resilience, qualities that she lost due to her inability to stay sober or away from casinos. But now she’s trying to gain them back, or at least look like she is, with the help of divorce lawyer Garcia Cole.

She’s driven by a single motive - vengeance. She’s ready to fight tooth and nail for what she believes is rightfully hers, and she’s not going to let Joel take Sarah away. But it’s not even about her wanting to be a mother because, well, she really doesn’t… At the end of the day, it is all about having control over Joel.

Her persona as a doting mother was just a facade she believed everyone bought into, but the truth was far from that. The only thing that consumes her is when she can escape to the casino again and have a drink. The flashing lights and the sound of slot machines call out to her, offering a temporary escape from her mundane reality of having a child and being a wife. When she sits at the poker table, her mind drifts away into nothingness.

Her whole life keeping up appearances to others outside of her family was burned into her by her mother and she did not break that habit, transforming into a desperation for society to perceive her as the innocent victim in a crumbling marriage, all of it out of her control.

When she decided to fight Joel back in the divorce, she reveled in the thought of outsmarting him, her manipulative tactics hidden beneath a blanket of maternal devotion. However, she was not good at keeping her ideas to herself, because she wouldn’t stop calling him, leaving voicemails, and texts going into detail about how she thought she was going to crush him.

She simply couldn’t help herself.

Joel, on the other hand, understands the true gravity of the situation. He knows that Annie is not going to back down easily; it’s always a fight with her. Just like in the beginning when he would ask repeatedly if she was drunk, and she would deny, but Joel could tell. So he would try to simply talk to her and then she would play the guilt trip and whole victim act; I just want to have fun, we don’t have fun anymore, Joel. I’m not the same person anymore and I miss who I used to be…I just need to find myself again. What…I can’t go out anymore? Is that what you’re saying?

This divorce is going to be no different. Annie's stubbornness and denial of it all only fuels his determination more. Despite the emotional turmoil, Joel remains firm in his decision, ready to face the challenges that come with ending a once loving partnership. He knows that this separation is necessary, even if it means navigating through rough waters ahead.

He braces himself for the battle on the other side of the wooden doors, determined to do whatever it takes to ensure that his daughter remains with him. But also knowing that Renae has his and Sarah’s best interests in mind, eases his panic just enough.

“We got this, ‘kay?” Renae nudges Joel’s shoulder with hers, causing him to turn to her and he’s met with a small genuine smile. Her arms are folded across her chest, supported by stacks of papers and Manila envelopes filled with evidence to bolster Joel's claims.

The weight of the overwhelming evidence hits him like a ton of bricks, shaking him to his core. He’s struggling to come to terms with the reality that he finds himself in, unable to fathom the amount of proof backing him. This isn’t how marriages are supposed to be or even end.

His marriage to Annie had once been full of laughter and love, but now it seemed like a distant memory. The once vibrant woman he had fallen in love with was now a shadow of her former self, lost in a sea of her own demons.

Joel feels like a failure, as a husband and a father. He should’ve been able to see the signs of Annie falling off the deep end but he didn’t. He had ignored the late nights, the empty bottles, and the distant gaze in her eyes, hoping it was just a phase she would outgrow.

He can’t help but wonder where it had all gone wrong. Was there anything he could have done differently to save their marriage? Or was this the inevitable outcome of a love that had faded away?

He knows he’s in incredible hands but that doesn’t mean he isn’t terrified of what’s to come. Gazing into Renae’s beautiful forest green eyes, he sees true determination and care in her, and he smiles back at her. I know, he whispers, truly meaning each word. Despite the chaos swirling around his mind, he finds comfort in Renae's presence, something about her calms his whirling thoughts. With her by his side, he feels a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty.

As they prepare to face the challenges ahead, he draws strength from Renae's unwavering support and her belief in a better tomorrow. In her eyes, he sees not only a formidable advocate but also a compassionate ally in this insane journey towards a new beginning.

Possibly even one with Renae.

—

Glancing over to Annie, Joel takes in her appearance; her blonde hair neatly pulled back into a tight bun, her makeup soft and light, but underneath he can see the faint bruise around her right eye. He assumes it’s from Maria two weeks ago when she served Annie, and he can’t help but chuckle internally.

Coming into this, he had expected to feel angry or frustrated, but to his surprise, he feels nothing. He can’t pinpoint his emotions, which is something he didn’t think was going to happen. Annie catches his gaze and gives him a cocky smile, unaware of the turmoil in Joel's mind. As they sit on separate sides of the courtroom, a sense of uneasiness lingers between them, making Joel question everything he thought he knew about their relationship.

Despite her trying her best to have this put-together appearance, only Joel can sense that she isn’t quite sober either. There’s a certain aura about her, a subtle hint of her struggles with casinos and drinking. After being with her for twenty years, Joel just knows.

Her clothes hang loosely on her small, skinny frame, but tight enough to think they’re just old clothes, if you don’t know her. Joel has always been attuned to Annie's moods, able to see through her facade and into the depths of her struggles. As he watches her from across the room, he knows that despite her best efforts to hide it, she’s still caught in the spiral of addiction, unable to break free from its grasp.

But he doesn’t feel bad, not in the slightest.

As the courtroom falls silent, Renae stands confidently before Judge Mark, ready to defend Joel. "Good morning, your honor," she speaks with a warm smile, earning a nod of acknowledgment from the judge. "We're here today because Mr. Miller filed for divorce and is trying to get full custody of his ten-year-old daughter."

Renae's heart races as she gives a brief introduction of the reasons why Sarah’s best interest is remaining with her father full time. “Mrs.Miller is an addict in more ways than one,” Renae says, and grabs photos and screenshots showcasing Annie's reckless behavior - drinking to the point of blackout, sneaking out in the dead of night, and gambling away her and Joel’s savings at the casinos.

“Here are some photos and screenshots of how frequent these kinds of things happen, your honor.” The judge studies the evidence with a grave expression, realizing the extent of the situation. “It’s clear that Mrs. Miller's addiction is spiraling out of control, affecting not just herself but everyone around her.”

However, Garcia Cole doesn’t waste any time before he’s arguing his side, or Annie’s side, of things. “That may be true before Mr. Miller filed,” Cole announces, “But Mrs. Miller has turned a new leaf. She’s been attending AA meetings for the past two months and plans on continuing going.”

He stands up as he stares between Renae and the Judge, “Casinos have been off limits to her also, same as alcohol. Here are the signed slips from each one, your honor.” Walking up the bench, he hands over the stack of papers as he says, “She’s ready to take care of her daughter.”

Renae's eyes widen in disbelief as Cole presents the evidence of Mrs. Miller's newfound commitment to sobriety and her daughter's well-being, though Renae knows, is all a facade and nothing but bullshit.

The Judge observes the sincerity in Cole's voice and the determination in Mrs. Miller's eyes.

After a moment of silence, the Judge nods, acknowledging the transformation that has taken place. Renae feels a small punch in the gut, but she knows this is only the start of things.

But then Cole drops the hammer and goes for it.

“Mrs. Miller requests physical and sole custody of Sarah Miller because she feels Mr.Miller is not safe for their daughter to be around.” He states as he addresses Judge Mark, Renae, and Joel in one swoop.

Renae senses Joel's protective aura and her own rising anger. She couldn't fathom Sarah being safer with anyone else but Joel. Annie's motives were suddenly suspect to Renae, and she impulsively, but smartly, demanded evidence to back Mrs. Miller's and Cole’s claims.

As Cole confidently approached the Judge's bench, Renae leaped up to join him, her heart racing with anticipation. "I was not aware of this, your honor. If anything, it's prejudice," she declared, trying to make sense of the unexplained picture of minor bruises on Annie’s biceps, looking like finger impressions.

Renae is enraged about Joel not telling her about this incident, whatever it is. She had explicitly asked him if Annie would have any evidence of things like this, to specifically make him look bad. In which he told her that Annie wouldn’t.

With a dismissive snort, Cole turns to Renae then to Judge Mark, his expression intense. "C’mon Russo… You really think this doesn’t hold weight? It's more probative than prejudice, your honor. My client fears for her daughter's safety if this is how he treats her. What will he do to their daughter?"

The tension in the courtroom was palpable as the judge pondered the weight of Cole's words, and Renae anxiously awaits his answer.

“I’ll allow it,” Judge Mark sighs, “Mr. Miller, can you explain these?” He shows the pictures to Joel, whose ears are flaming red. But his eyes adjust to the lights and the small ten by ten picture and Renae she’s something in his eyes click just then, like he instantly remembers the incident.

“I do your honor,” he clears his throat, “That was the night she was blackout drunk and came at me with a knife, while Sarah was home, might I add.“

“He’s lying!”

“Mrs. Miller,” Judge Mark scolds her and then tells Joel to continue, folding his hands underneath his chin.

“Well, I managed to get the knife outta her hand and had to hold her down, which is where those marks are.” Joel gestures towards the pictures that Judge Mark has, “She managed to get out of my grip and so I had to put her arm behind her back and hold her there until she calmed down.”

“Do you have proof of this incident?”

“I’m sure I have texts to my brother about it, if you can give me some time to look.”

Judge Mark glances at the clock on the wall to his left and sits in silence for just a few seconds, fifteen minute recess, he announces as he slams his gavel loudly, you’re adjourned.

—

Renae storms into the small office she has at the courthouse, her eyes blazing with fury. "Why didn't you tell me about this?" she demands, slamming the picture on the maple wood table, "I explicitly asked you if Annie would have any evidence to make you look bad!"

Joel looks sheepish, avoiding her gaze. "I didn't think it was relevant," he mumbles, “Or at least… I burned it from my memory. The one and only time I had to put my hands on her.” He flips the picture over so he doesn’t have to look at it again, clearly ashamed of it.

Renae clenches her fists, trying to control her anger. She knows Joel isn’t a violent person, but the judge doesn’t know that for sure. This incident could ruin everything they had been working for.

“Joel. Everything is relevant right now, you know this.” She scolds, taking a deep breath after. “Like your texts to Tommy, can you find them, please.” She can’t sit down, she’s too on edge to even think about sitting. Renae hasn’t been beaten like this in court since she started her career and it was against Garcia Cole.

It’s like some sort of crazy deja vu and she’s not liking it at all.

"Yeah, gimme about five minutes to find it,” Joel tries to calm Renae down as he scrolls on his phone through his and Tommy’s texts. Renae scoffs to herself, she almost feels played by Joel, she can’t believe that he forgot to tell her this. This kind of thing is so important for an attorney to know and that fact that she didn’t, makes her work look lazy.

As she paces back and forth in the dimly lit room, her heels click on the hardwood floor and her mind races with all the possible implications of Joel's forgetfulness. How could he have missed such a crucial detail? Is he trying to hide something? What’s the benefit from doing that? There really is none. Renae's frustration simmers beneath the surface, stopping from threatening to boil over at any moment.

She knows she needs to confront Joel about this, but for now, she'll bide her time and wait for him to find the information she needs. There’s no point in blowing up on him for this now, now when this is all over, that’s another story.

"Aha, I found it!” Joel exclaims, with his phone in both hands he stands up from his seat causing the wood to scrape against the floor.

“Let me see,” Renae turns around from the window, she snatches it out of his hands and reads his short message to his brother.

Can Sarah and I come over for the night? Annie and I just got into it…she tried to stab me man. Nobody’s hurt but I gotta get out of here before somethin happens.

Renae stands there, her heart heavy with the weight of regret. The fury that once consumed her has now dissipated, leaving behind a deep sense of sympathy for Joel. His warm eyes hold a mixture of pain, but also a glimmer of forgiveness and hope that surprises her. As he slowly reaches out to touch her, he half expects her to recoil after learning this information, but instead, she stands still, letting his hands rest on her biceps.

“I’m- Joel… I’m sorry-“ she tries to convey her remorse before Joel's soft voice interrupts her, calming her inner turmoil.

"Don't, Rae... It's okay," he says gently, his gaze unwavering. And in that moment, Renae realizes that despite the small indiscretions, there is still a bond between them – a connection that goes past the brief anger and frustration.

—

Renae sits quietly in the courtroom as Judge Mark meticulously reads through the print out of the text exchange between Joel and his brother. Her stomach twists and her mouth is dry, she’s not sure how the Judge is going to react to this. Even though it’s all in Joel’s favor, the ultimate decision is up to the Judge and only him.

She carefully observes the expressions on the Judge's face, noticing the subtle shifts from surprise to empathy. As the message is scrutinized, Renae feels a small sense of assurance growing within her.

She knows that Judge Mark is starting to comprehend the complex web of circumstances that had led Joel to take drastic actions. She sees the wheels turning in his head that this is all a lie from Annie and a ploy to try to sway his decision.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the Judge looks up, locking eyes with Renae. In that moment, she senses a shared understanding between them. Despite the gravity of the situation, Renae feels a glimmer of hope that justice would prevail.

"Mrs. Miller, is there anything else you would like to provide?" Judge Mark asks into the courtroom, but mainly to his left.

“She has a two-bedroom condo that includes a room just for Sarah, and she started her job at her salon shop again.” Cole rolls off his tongue, but Renae senses the tone of defeat in his voice. “But other than that, we rest, your honor.”

Annie shakes her head in defeat, then turns towards Joel with a sad expression. Her eyes plead with him, silently begging for forgiveness or even a bit of leniency in this whole situation.

But Joel looks away, unable to meet her gaze, his heart heavy from the fact this even had to happen, even though he feels relaxed that it’s over. The air in the courtroom feels thick and sticky, suffocating him with its heaviness, and Joel longs to escape and never look back.

The thought of ever returning to this place makes his stomach churn with unease, a deep sense of discomfort settles in. Joel closes his eyes, trying to push away the feeling of sickness that threatens to engulf him, longing for the moment when he can walk out of that courtroom and leave this all behind him.

The Judge clears his throat, breaking the momentary stillness. "Very well. In light of the evidence presented, I have reached a decision."

Renae's trembling hand motions for Joel to silently stand by her side as Judge Mark prepares to deliver his decision. Garcia Cole does the same with Annie, common court courtesy. Renae's heart races in anticipation. Her mind spins with desperate pleas for Joel to be granted custody of his daughter, the one bright light in Sarah’s tumultuous lives.

Joel's eyes meet hers, filled with a mix of hope and fear, mirroring the emotions swirling within Renae. Then swiftly focus back on the deep voice that determines Joel's life in front of him.

As Judge Mark begins to speak, every word feels like an eternity, hanging in the air, heavy with implications. And then, finally, the words that they had been praying for.

“I grant Joel Miller sole legal and physical custody of Sarah Miller.”

Tears of relief and gratitude fill Renae's eyes as she squeezes Joel's hand, knowing that Joel got what he wished for, and rightfully deserved.

Joel can’t believe his ears as the Judge pronounces the decision in his favor, granting him sole legal and physical custody of Sarah. It’s the outcome he has hoped for, and the result of countless nights of worry and stress over the last four months has finally paid off. But the Judge's next words catch Joel off guard.

"However, I also grant Annie visitation every other weekend."

Joel's heart sinks at the mention of his ex-wife's name. The memories flood back - the good times, the bad times, and everything in between. Despite the mixed emotions swirling inside him, he knows that it’s the right thing for Sarah to have a relationship with her mother. Sarah deserves to know her roots, her history, her mother.

So, with a heavy heart and a mind full of conflicting thoughts, Joel makes the decision to just accept this and move on. The arrangement is set - pickups early Saturday mornings and drop-offs by Sunday evening, no later than eight pm.

As Joel looks into Renae’s eyes, he knows that despite the challenges ahead, he’ll navigate this new chapter to the best of his ability.

—

Standing in the parking lot, Renae leaning on her car and Joel doing the same, but on his truck. Side by side with one another, Renae doesn’t want to leave. The cool evening breeze sweeps through the small empty space between them, carrying the faint scent of pine trees. Renae's heart feels heavy as she looks up at the dusky pink sky, knowing that this moment might be the last time she sees Joel.

Joel senses Renae's hesitation and reaches out to gently touch her hand. Her forest eyes and his whiskey ones meet, sparking a silent conversation that speaks volumes. Time seems to stand still as they stand there, unwilling to look away. She knows she has to go, but something holds her back.

Maybe it’s the way Joel looks at her with his soft brown orbs, or it’s the memories of their minuscule time together flooding back. Renae doesn’t want to leave, and doesn't want to say goodbye to what could have been or could be.

As the sun rests above the courthouse, Joel pulls Renae close, feeling the weight of the moment settle upon him. They stand in the quiet embrace, both reluctant to let go of the memories they shared these past four months.

Joel can feel the tears welling up in his eyes, but he blinks them away, not wanting to show his vulnerability. Letting go of Renae was proving to be harder than he thought. He never expected to become so attached. This woman has rescued him and his daughter from his toxic ex-wife, and for the first time in years, he feels truly understood by a woman. Renae looks up at him, still in his arms, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sadness and gratitude.

"Thank you for everything, Rae," Joel murmurs to Renae, his voice barely above a whisper. “But ya’ know this means we can now, maybe… Get serious.”

Butterflies flutter in her stomach but instantly die. She reluctantly slides out of his warm embrace and takes a small step away from him.

There’s no way that can happen right now, Joel needs time with his daughter and needs to figure out his life as a single dad.

She doesn’t feel it’s fair for him to jump right into the next relationship, especially that he has a daughter at a highly impressionable age.

She smiles softly, her right hand reaching up to cup his cheek, her acrylics softly scratch his deep brown beard, and her eyes glisten with unshed tears. "Don't thank me, Joel," she whispers, her voice barely audible, purposefully avoiding the last part of his sentence, "I did what I had to do.”

Joel takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. His left hand raises to where Renae rests on him, the touch gentle yet filled with longing. "You saved me," he says, his voice breaking with emotion. "I woulda’ been lost without you. You saved me ‘n my daughter, that’s all I coulda’ asked for."

“As much as I want to be with you… Joel,” she sighs into his gentle touch, “It just can’t happen right now, you just divorced and have a ten year old girl who loves you and needs you. I can’t get in between that. It’s not fair to her, you, or me.”

Renae's heart aches as she looks into Joel's eyes, feeling the pull of their connection. Despite the yearning for him swirling within her, she knows that the timing is all wrong. She can’t bring herself to disrupt the fragile balance of his newly divorced life and his daughter's need for stability. The love between them was undeniable, but yet their circumstances make it impossible for them to be together.

Joel's touch holds a mixture of longing and understanding as he whispers softly, "I know it's complicated ‘n all, but my feelings for you are real, Rae and I won’t deny that. When the time is right, we’ll find a way to make it work."

Renae forces a bittersweet smile, touched by his sincerity. With a heavy heart, she pulls away from his cheek, knowing that for now, they have to part ways to do what is best for everyone involved.

Renae's eyes meet him again, a mixture of sorrow and love shining battling for the throne. "But… We saved each other," she replies softly.

"We'll always have these moments, Joel. No matter where life takes us," Renae whispers back, her voice filled with love and understanding. Joel softly chuckles and a warm smile grows on his lips, and then it’s like time stands still.

Finally, Renae breaks the silence, her voice barely a whisper, "I don't wanna say goodbye." Joel's gaze softens, and he pulls her into one more tight embrace.

The world seems to fade away once again as they hold each other, savoring the moment before they have to part ways. The memories of their time together flood back to both of them, filling their hearts with a bittersweet ache that they can both feel through one another.

For Renae, leaving was inevitable, yet she can’t bear the thought of being separated from Joel. Their love, even though they haven’t told each other, has blossomed unexpectedly, catching them both by surprise. As they stand there, wrapped in each other's arms, they know that this goodbye was not the end, but possibly a new beginning.

Just not together, at least right now.

As Renae reluctantly lets go of Joel, she softly sighs, I gotta get home. He nods his head and takes a small step back to give her space, drive safely, text me when you’re home please. She smiles and tells him she will.

Hesitantly, Renae hops into her car and starts it, she looks to her left one more time and sees Joel, still out of his truck, already looking at her. She gives a hopeful smile and a small wave, which he returns. She tells herself to pull away, just drive off, and somehow she does.

Renae can’t shake off the bittersweet feeling as she drives away. Her heart feels heavy, but she knows it’s the right decision and the only decision. As the distance between her and Joel grows, she can’t help but replay the moment in her mind.

The hopeful smile on his face lingers in her thoughts, filling her with conflicting emotions. A part of her wants to turn back, to stay and see where things could lead, but another part knows it’s time to move on. She keeps driving, the road stretching out ahead of her like a blank canvas. With each passing mile, she feels a sense of freedom and a twinge of sadness.

Why does the world need to be so cruel?

—

With every passing day, it seems Joel has an incredibly difficult time letting go of Renae. The last thing he ever expected was becoming attached to his divorce attorney. It’s only been three weeks since the last time they've seen each other, and a couple days that they stopped calling one another, but he’s found himself unable to stop thinking about her.

Her laughter echoes in his mind, her smile still lighting up his world. They had shared intimate conversations and created unforgettable memories together in the short four months, so how could he ever just let her go?

Before court started, Joel knew he would have to leave her but he didn’t think he would’ve struggled with the idea of saying goodbye. When he watched her drive away, leaving him in the parking lot to go home, Joel realized that sometimes, the hardest part of love is knowing when to set it free.

Now, on a warm sunny Saturday, Joel sits at the park watching Sarah play with Ellie on the monkey bars, feeling the weight of his responsibilities as a single dad. Renae's words echo in his mind, that he needs time to adjust to his new life as a single dad. Her words sting since he’s pretty much been one for the last four-five years anyways.

As he sits on one of the many park benches and stares off into space and he wonders why she really didn’t want to be with him, Sarah tugs at his sleeve, a wide grin on her face. In her innocent eyes, he finds the strength to push aside his doubts and focus on what truly matters - his daughter's happiness. Joel knows he needs to navigate this new chapter with care and consideration, not just for himself but for her.

Although, Renae's words linger, a reminder of the delicate balance between his own desires and his daughter's well-being. As he holds Sarah’s hand, Joel makes a silent promise to tread carefully, embracing the uncertainty of this new journey as a true single father. Not a husband who does everything.

As they walk towards Joel's truck, Sarah can’t shake off the feeling that something’s wrong with her dad. She glances at him, his face etched with lines that she hasn’t noticed in a long time.

"You alright, dad?" she asks, tightening her grip on his hand. Ellie senses the tension, and gives Sarah a reassuring smile.

Joel pauses and looks at her, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. "I'm fine, sweetie," he finally replies, forcing a smile. But Sarah can tell he’s hiding something. As Joel opens the truck door and lets the girls climb in, buckling themselves up before he shuts the door and walks over to the driver side. His mind is racing, how can Sarah tell? How can his ten-year-old daughter know that something is wrong? He thought he was better at hiding his emotions.

As he drives down the road, Joel steals glances at Sarah and Ellie through the rearview mirror. They're both laughing about something on the playground they saw, and Joel smiles. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow on their faces, and Joel feels a surge of love for his daughter and her best friend. He remembers the struggles they've been through, the joys they've shared, and the bond that holds them together.

Sarah looks up and catches Joel's eye in the mirror. She gives him a wide grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Ellie chimes in, asking if they can stop for McDonald’s, even though Joel hates when they eat junk food, he figures today will be okay and that it won’t hurt them. They deserve a small treat, he reasons.

As Ellie's persistent cravings for McDonald's reach its peak, Joel finally surrenders with a defeated chuckle. "Alright, we can stop," he concedes, knowing there’s no way around it. Ellie and Sarah’s eyes light up with excitement as they pull into the drive-thru, both their mouths already watering at the thought of their favorite fast food place.

Joel can’t help but smile at their enthusiasm, realizing that sometimes giving in to simple pleasures is what makes life all the more enjoyable. As they sit in the car waiting for their order, Joel can’t help but be grateful for these ordinary moments that bring him and his daughter, and Ellie, closer together since the divorce.

[bidisasterevankinard]

Wip Wednesday

I on "I'm going to sit and normally write this this fic and not just little parts" stage with Vegas (going to write tomorrow, friday and on weekends). For now I don't have good things to share, but I still want to, so here a drama from werewolf a/b/o au (first snippet)

“So, Marisol. You gonna call her?” Buck tries to ask it with a purely friendly interest. 

“I don’t know. Maybe,” if Eddie could Buck sure he would shrug his shoulders. “I think yes, I will, but not today or the next day. I’m sure I can`t be a pleasant company when I`m in pain, right?” Eddie teasingly smiles at him.

“You’re always a pleasant company, Eds,” Buck says quietly, but he thinks Eddie still heard it. Because his face is now puzzled, like he tries to understand what is inside Buck’s brain.

They silent again, but Buck feels how Eddie stares at him with his big brown eyes and he breaks. 

“Was poker a date? Did - did you try to court me?” Buck prefers to look at his hands and not at Eddie. 

“Yes,” Buck quickly turns to Eddie. “Why are you surprised? Like you didn’t know.” Eddie looks at Buck with a raised eyebrow.

“Because I didn’t,” Buck screams. He can’t believe he actually missed it. And he can`t believe Eddie hadn’t said anything. Just stopped his attempt. Well, it’s not a surprise. Eddie must have seen how bad Buck was and understood he needed someone better. 

“How could you not know?” Eddie screams too.

“You never said it was a date. And you always buy me something. Also, if you remember, I’m omega only for 3 months. I was dealing with my death, the grief of everyone, and new instincts. My body was new. Everything around me was different now. Imagine how overwhelmed I was. Natalia helped me a lot. It’s nice to have an omega friend who understands a lot of what I was going through for the first time. Heat, instincts that scream to take care of my alpha. The desire to entangle Chris in a bubble wrap more than usual. The desire to growl at you for dating other people. Feeling that I was rejected. Not just a desire, but the need to bake the best cookies for Chris’s school. I literally began to experience all my emotions and feelings towards you many times more. And I started feeling a lot of new things. Yes, I didn’t realize that you were trying to court me, but Eddie, I never thought that I would become a werewolf. I accepted I would be just a friend when I was a human, because you said more than once that it was a bad idea to have a bond between a werewolf and a human. And then... you-you didn’t seem interested in me when I was in heat, so I realized that being human wasn’t the only obstacle. I thought you just didn’t want me.”

“Buck, you were recovering after your coma, and in an unexpected first heat in your 30s. I would hate myself if I tried to do something that moment.”

Tagging (no pressure) : @usercowboy @jobairdxx @rose-buddie @911onabc @heartbeatdiaz @ebdaydreamer @alyxmastershipper @elvensorceress @buck-coded @honestlydarkprincess @buddierights @the-likesofus @rogerzsteven @shortsighted-owl @scarcrossedbuck @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @gentoodiaz @comaboybuck @bekkachaos

[superprincesspea]

The Arrangement

Chapter 2 - Perception

Masterlist

The next time you see Joel, you’re up on stage. Lights, camera, action.  

You think of days like these as a circus except there isn’t any big top and the only clowns are the dolls in six-inch heels.  

‘Welcome to Negan’s horrific spectacle.’  

Come one, come all, and, for the low low price of silence, everyone in the Sanctuary can have a front row seat to the greatest show on Earth. Losing the last shreds of your humanity is free and vomiting is optional.  

You laugh grimly but the sound is barely a snort of a breath meant only for yourself. The truth is nothing about this is funny. The room is thick with tension, the entire Sanctuary squeezed onto the factory floor. 

You can’t distinguish between the hushed whispers of the audience and the wives standing beside you aren’t talking. So, in this room of people, you’re alone. Your feet sore, sweat gathering between your breasts and your spine aching for the chance to sit down.  

After a while, whispers turn to grumbles but it's all part of the show. The long anticipation before Negan’s grand entrance and, finally, it’s time for curtains up.  

He winks at you as he steps onto the stage and his smile is all bright white teeth and devilish charm. You’ve always admired Negan’s confidence even when his actions disturbed you beyond belief and today is no different.  

With Negan in full view of the audience, everyone has become impossibly still, choked by the kind of quiet where no one even dares to breathe. The silence makes your stomach churn, your heart race but Negan is relaxed, his smile still captivating as he saunters from left to right with Lucille balanced on his shoulder.  

“Now, I bet you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here today,” he begins, the ringmaster in full command of his crowd but you don’t need to hear his reasons. You already know. You’ve already seen Dwight, bound and gagged, waiting just out of view. 

You also know why. Know that he dared to love Sherry and run away. But what you don’t understand is, why had they been caught? Why hadn’t they been smarter? And most of all, why couldn’t Negan just let them go?  

Sherry is still missing and though you like to think she’s out there somewhere, surviving despite losing Dwight, you’re not holding your breath. If surviving was easy, everyone would do it. You would do it.  

Pushing away the thought, you look back towards Negan, still in command, still effortlessly poised as he finishes his run down of Dwight's charges in a court where he is judge, jury and executioner. Then all eyes are on Dwight. But not yours- you can’t look. Won’t look. 

You’d like to say you don’t recognise the stink of flesh as it bubbles and cooks like meat in a skillet, but you do. Sour and fatty, the smell makes your stomach twist into knots so tight you’re sure you’ll never eat a morsel of food again- but you will.  

Survival is so hardwired into your brain that you know you’ll do anything to keep breathing. Even love a man like Negan and you had loved him for a while. Far longer than he really deserved but, after The Duke, he’d felt like Prince Charming and, like every woman everywhere since the dawn of time, you’d thought you could change him. Make him better, make him love you back but when did that really work?  

So, while Dwight's face is melted with the hot end of a poker, you try to let everything fade to black but not Joel. He’s standing in the middle of the packed crowd, and he isn’t looking at Dwight either, he’s looking at you. You hadn’t noticed him before and now you’re not sure how you saw anything else. 

His dark eyes seem to burn onto your skin and while the rest of the audience is still captivated by the show, your eyes lock with Joel’s and neither of you break contact until it's all over. The sizzle, the screams, Negan’s speech on loyalty and penance.  

You’ve heard it all before, but this is Joel’s first time and there’s something on his face which tells you he won’t be here for the next one. If only you could say the same.  

Instead, you say nothing, do nothing and the show is over. The players exit the stage and you’re no exception. You get in line with the rest of the wives and follow Negan up to the apartment where he heads straight to his bedroom, leaving you and the other girls to hover outside the door.   

You glance around, hoping one of them will make the first move to follow him but they’re too upset. Tears on cheeks, sobs trapped in chests and the smell, that awful smell must be burned into their noses likes its burned into yours.  

“I guess I’ll go,” you sigh, and Tanya squeezes your shoulder before you force yourself over the threshold and click the door shut behind. 

Negan is settling Lucille in her usual spot, and you don’t know why today is any different from any other day, but you can’t take another minute of pretending.  

“I didn’t like that,” you say and though something stronger, something more rebellious is brewing under your skin, your tone is still cautious. 

Negan turns, his eyes widening, “neither did I, baby.”  

His words sound sincere but you’re not sure what to think anymore and though your tears have run dry, your voice still cracks when you ask, “then why?” 

“You know why.” 

“You could have just let them leave. You didn’t have to hunt them down and-” 

“And what?” He lets the question linger in the air, but he doesn’t want you to answer it. You’re certain he doesn’t even want to begin this conversation or any conversation at all. Still, he’s not the kind of man to back down from a challenge even a challenge as inconsequential as this.  

He moves closer, his eyes levelling with yours and they’re stern, narrowed in to hold tightly onto your gaze. “Maybe I should let every fucker in the Sanctuary think he can do whatever the fuck he wants? Maybe one of them will decide they want to fuck you, should I let them get away with that?” 

Again, he doesn’t want an answer just like you don’t want to challenge him anymore, so you look at your shoes, strappy, flimsy and in complete contrast with Negan’s heavy boots.  

Your submission works, his voice is softer now, but he’s still pissed.  

He paces the floor in front of you, his arms gesturing for effect, “maybe I should let every fucker with half a brain cell decide they can just walk the fuck out of here and get themselves killed? Or worse- let them bring back an army to take what's ours?”  

You dare to look at him.  

“You know the fucking score just like everyone else.” 

Now his hands are on your cheeks, his touch so gentle you could mistake it for love. 

“Say it,” he commands. 

“I know the score,” you whisper and Negan sighs, his shoulders losing some of their tension. 

His speech might have been more for his benefit than yours but honestly, he’s right. You all know the score. Negan’s way or no way and you don’t even hate him for it. Society, as you knew it, is gone. This is Negan’s world where he is King, President and God. At some point, you’d all agreed to the new world order.  

There’s no old school penal system for those who broke the rules, no review to make sure Negan’s punishments aren’t cruel and unusual. They are. They’re supposed to be and that’s the point.  

The sad thing is, you don’t even care about Dwight. There probably wasn’t a person in the room who did. Everyone watched his face melt and thought the same thing- I’m glad it isn’t me.  

But you’re done with safety in exchange for oppression and you’re done with Negan.  

Just not tonight.  

Tonight, you’re still his wife, his best girl and honestly, you’re not even mad about it. Negan is familiar. A port in the storm even if he’s the one creating the storm. 

He moves closer, pushing the strap of your dress down your arm to kiss your shoulder.  

His beard tickles your skin, his lips are hungry, desperate to taste and find something satisfying for both of you.  

“I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to get so-” he murmurs into your neck. 

“I know,” you brush your fingers through his hair and down the soft supple leather of his jacket, pulling him closer.  

Negan isn’t a monster; you know that much. He might enjoy the theatrics, but he doesn’t seek to maim and hurt people. There are only three rules in the Sanctuary which carry such corporal punishment. Rape, Murder and Stealing.  

Dwight and Sherry might be in love, but he stole her from Negan whether Negan wanted her or not.  

Perception is everything. Rules are rules.  

Negan doesn’t say anything more, he’s worn out from the theatrics, and he doesn’t want to fight. He wants this- flesh and pleasure.  

He pushes you onto the bed, legs spread, ankles dangling over his shoulders. He isn’t a selfish lover and maybe that would have made him easier to hate. But he’s on his knees for you, burying his face into your pussy and putting that charismatic mouth to good use. Stealing your thoughts, bringing you to the peak of pleasure before his cock finally pushes inside. 

His jeans are still clinging to his hips, the bite of his zipper nicking against your bare ass with every thrust. He comes fast, a quick release of tension before the real fucking begins.  

[turquoisepolo]

Fight So Dirty, Chapter Four

Andreil thing based off of this post. Trying to make this a thing, if all goes to plan. Read chapter three first!

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Warning(s): Implied abuse

The walk to the Foxhole court  wasn’t difficult. Not difficult for athletes, and certainly not for a man who had spent his entire life on his feet. At least, it shouldn’t have been. Neil unfortunately was sure he’d go into cardiac arrest the very moment he could see the court, heart pounding in his chest. He thought his feet were glued to the ground and was half aware of how everyone else had already gone in through the double doors, everyone but Andrew who was holding the door open and looking at him with a hint of curiosity. 

Before Andrew could ask a prying question, Neil forced himself to walk through the doors and tried to keep a poker face as he followed the rest of the group into what seemed to be the changing rooms. 

Nicky, with as friendly a smile as ever, gave him his gear. “Hopefully that fits, it’s some of Andrew’s old gear but I’ll get Coach to get you something new soon!” Neil stood there awkwardly with it in his hands and tried not to watch the others change. Unfortunately it seemed Kevin was paying far too much attention to him. “Why aren’t you putting it on?” The taller boy asked as he started buckling on his gear. Neil grappled with an explanation before Andrew shot Kevin a look that had Kevin turning away from them both and continuing to mind his own business. Before Neil could be too grateful though, Andrew stayed there, studying him and apparently not following his own rules. Neil stared back, unrelenting. There was no way he was letting Andrew intimidate him into revealing his scars, because that would inevitably lead to questions that Neil couldn’t answer.

Eventually Nicky, Kevin, and Aaron finished and filtered out of the dressing room but Andrew hadn’t made a single move to begin changing. Eventually the blonde let up and began stripping. “You can’t hide forever. I’ll break you.” 

He scowled at that and glared at Andrew’s back. “I’m not hiding anything.” 

Andrew turned around and was strapping on his gear. “Lie to all of them, but don’t lie to me. You aren’t very convincing.” With that, he left the locker room and left Neil finally alone and able to change. 

As Neil stripped off his clothes and changed into the hand-me-down uniform, he tried not to contemplate Andrew’s words too much. 

The gear was a terrible fit. Too broad around the shoulders and too small around the thighs but it was better than nothing and so he adjusted the straps and did the best to make it work. 

When Neil was done, he walked out of the locker room with the exy racquet in his hand  and saw Nicky waving him over on the other side of the plexiglass. He braced himself and walked through the double doors, grip tight on the racquet. They don’t know  was the reassuring mantra playing over and over in his head. 

Even if Kevin remembered him, he didn’t look the same from the time that they met. His hair was dyed brown, and his contacts were in. Not to mention the change in physique from a ten year old to a nineteen year old. The thought soothed his nerves mildly, and with that he walked over to the group.

“Do you know any warmups?” Kevin asked, a doubtful edge to his voice. Neil hated that Kevin was right in being unsure and shook his head. He let out a long sigh. “Watch and learn then.” 

It was obvious that Kevin didn’t think of slowing down for Neil and quite frankly Neil was quite thankful for that. He would’ve hated being treated differently.

After warmups, they were all panting - everyone besides Andrew who had decided not to participate even after Kevin’s scalding comments. Andrew’s indifference piqued Neil’s curiosity, and he stored the information away for later.

Andrew only moved when Kevin told him to get into the goal. Now would be the challenge, or so Neil thought before he saw Andrew let shot after shot fly by him and frowned. It was even more disturbing how Kevin refrained from saying anything about Andrew’s lack of participation. 

The drills went on for two more hours before Kevin decided they had had enough. Neil took off his helmet and inhaled fresh air greedily, bent over with his hands braced on his knees. 

When Neil looked up, Kevin was looking at him. He nodded. “You’re not good enough, but you’ll do.” With that he left and went to the locker room, Aaron following close behind. 

Nicky frowned at Kevin’s back and turned to Neil, shaking his head. “Don’t listen to him, Neil. You did awesome for your first time!” Then he left. This time, Andrew didn’t wait for Neil to budge and left after his cousin. 

Neil sighed and began gathering the exy balls and putting them in the bucket. He paused on the last ball, considering the weight in his hand. His mother would beat him senseless if she was here. 

But she wasn’t. She wasn’t here, neither was his father or his henchmen. No, it was Neil standing in this court, and this was his chance at something. At least for a little while and damn him if he was going to let it slip away. 

Neil walked to the locker room as the rest were exiting. He undressed quickly and went to the shower rooms, finding that there were stalls and being grateful for it. Neil showered quickly, and dressed again in his old clothes. 

He left the stadium and found the rest of the group waiting for him outside. They walked back to the dormitories. Nicky put on some old movie and Neil pretended to pay attention but he found his gaze wandering to Andrew every so often. 

Dangerous was a given, it’s the reason Neil hired Andrew. But it turned out the other was strangely perceptive, and that was a different level of danger. At some point, Andrew met his gaze and he turned quickly. Neil would have to be careful, but he would if caution would ensure that he could indulge in this fake life for as long as possible. 

[tired-fandom-ndn]

Thinking about arranged aemyra again but in my trueborn AU where the boys are Laenor's bio kids and he fakes his death later, when his sons are older and can keep that secret, and Viserys goes ahead and betrothes Rhaenyra to Aemond without bothering to ask either of them for their input.

Rhaenyra, still in her mourning blacks, is devastated and a bit numb at the fact that Viserys is making her repeat his own mistakes, marrying her off to a boy barely older than her eldest son without even letting her get through a year of mourning. It would be inappropriate for a man to even ask her to dance at this point and she's expected to marry her brother in just a few short months.

Otto is furious and Alicent is heartbroken. They'd suggested Aegon as Rhaenyra's husband and Viserys went off and did this instead. Now Otto is trying to readjust his plans, especially with Viserys insisting that Rhaenyra remain heir, and Alicent is struggling with basically losing the only child that she truly sees as hers.

Jace, Luke, and Joffrey desperately wish that their mother would just get a break. She shouldn't have to sit in her rooms and weep alone and she shouldn't have to put on a poker face for the court and she shouldn't have to be forced to marry someone the king chooses when she still wakes up in the middle of the night and reaches out for Laenor.

Aemond is thrilled. He expected to be married off to some random noble lady and never be anything more than the second son and his mother's favorite child. Now, he's the betrothed of the heir to the throne and the future prince consort, and Rhaenyra as his wife is definitely not something he's going to object to.

Just a lot of angst and grief and drama.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"MOTHER KEPT FIVE ON SIX DOLLARS A WEEK," Toronto Star. November 11, 1913. Page 5. ---- Now Eldest Boy Is Working and Contributes All His Salary to the Home. ---- THE FARM FOR A YEAR ---- Bill wasn't out that night; Joe had gone to night school, and Bob was having his music lesson - at least he had gone to get it. The remaining three boys had been playing an innocent and tidy game of tag, keeping strictly in the middle of the road and avoiding the man's lawn with great care. But some one had thrown bricks at his door, rubbed rags in the dirt of the road and thrown them on his verandah, played ring-around-a-rosy with the sentimental little maple trying to sprout on his front lawn, and generally made his life a Welsh rarebit nightmare. By careful manipulation of the boys' evidence, peppered here and there by mothers in the rear, the two brick-throwers were singled out.

"I suppose it is a little bit of spite all round," suggested the commissioner.

"No, sir," returned the largest mother emphatically. "It was spite on his part, but there was no spite on the boys' part at all. He turned the hose on them once, but they wouldn't hurt his old lawn for anything."

"I see," grinned the commissioner. "Well, I'll make it a fine of $1 and suspend it on condition that you keep on your own side of the street and don't go near his lawn."

Chased Them With Knife. Peter walked into court with a dazed red face. One eye has become sightless and the other was swollen until it almost closed. They let him out of jail on Saturday, where he had been sent for 60 days, to become a teetotaler, but somehow the cure had failed. Sunday he spent between the always-procurable whiskey bottle and chasing his eldest son round the house with a knife. His frantic wife called in the help of the court officers, and he has been brought in on the charge of contributing to make his five children juvenile delinquents by reason of his constant drunkeness.

"Why in the world didn't they examine him before they let him come out of the jail?" asked the commissioner.

Her Frenzied Finance. Peter sat sobbing intermittently as his wife told the court of the frenzied finance she had to use to support her five children on a salary of $6 a week. Later, however, it has been supplemented by the hard won $5 brought in weekly by the oldest boy. The heroism of these little fellows, bruised numb by early troubles. as they silently pass over all the result of a week's work to mother, sometimes receiving five cents to attend a nickel show as their share of the proceeds, is something for the court observers to marvel at. Very rarely the steam valve bursts and a desperate small chap is found pilfering in the big stores or breaking into some house with the front door open.

Having ascertained that Peter's wife could manage better when not being chased with pokers and knives, even by foregoing Peter's salary, he has been committed to his chance in the Prison Farm for one year.

[queenshelby]

The Client (Part Two)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Domestic Abuse, Sexual Abuse

Words: 2,786

PLEASE ENGAGE AND COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

“Cillian?” you asked with surprise after only having expected to see Dermont in the common area of the facility. You hadn’t seen Cillian for almost 17 years and felt as though you were corned, forced to greet him in a place like this, looking bruised and battered.

“Yes, it’s been a while” Cillian said and, whilst he usually had a good poker face, he couldn’t really hide his emotions when you stood there, right in front of him. One part of him wanted to hug you, hold you close and comfort you. The other part of him wanted to ask you “why”… Why didn’t you leave him earlier? Why did you marry this man? Why didn’t you ask anyone for help?

“I didn’t expect to see you” you stammered nervously while trying to cover up your bruises even though you were very well aware of why he was here, at the shelter. Dermont must have asked him for help but you most certainly didn’t want it.

You were embarrassed by the fact that he saw you like this, hurt and vulnerable and, after Cillian tried to approach you, offering you his assistance, you quickly shook your head.

“Y/N, I just really want to help you. Please let me” he said, looking at you with wide open eyes. They were still as blue as ever and, whilst you had checked out his Facebook profile in the past, you only just remembered how charming and convincing he was, simply by looking at you. These eyes could speak a million words but you wouldn’t fall them. You couldn’t. You needed to be strong and independent.

"I don’t need help Cillian. I'm fine, don't worry about me" you told him even though, the truth was, that your legs started to feel like they were going to break. You were in pain and, emotionally, you were completely drained.  

“You are still quite stubborn, aren’t you” Cillian chuckled and you gave him a smile.

“Yes, I am, and perhaps, one day, we can catch up for a coffee but I am not taking your help. I don’t need help. I can do this on my own” you pointed out again and, by this time, Cillian’s calm facial expression changed and became a sad expression.

“Y/N, common” Dermont begged you and you shook your head again.

“No! And I cannot believe that you misused my trust like this. Clearly, you told Cillian about James. You had no bloody right to do that” you snapped at your brother and he wondered what popped up into your head for the sudden mood change.

Anger had overcome you and, eventually, you began to yell at Demont and Cillian. You were furious about being inundated like this and you felt as though your brother stabbed you in the back by bringing Cillian to the facility.

“I think it is time for you to leave. When she is ready, then perhaps you can visit her again” one of the security personnel said, seeing how wound up you had become and, with that, Cillian suggested to Dermont that it was, indeed, time to go.

Clearly, you needed to get a little more comfortable with the idea of having Cillian involved in your case and knowing what would happen next, he knew that you would come around when the time was right or, if there wasn’t such time, for a lack of choice.

***

Indeed, this time came and it came much faster than Cillian had anticipated. Your husband James had tried to make contact with you on a daily basis only to be knocked back by the security guards at the facility. Luckily, they were rather strict and scary looking and your husband didn’t to argue with them.

Leaving the shelter though was also difficult for you. You were afraid to be out on your own. You were afraid of him and his constant threats. He had left letters for you at the shelter, threatening you and you knew that he had investigators that could easily spy on you if this is what he wanted to do.

He was well connected to the justice and court system in London and often used private eyes to investigate cases of domestic disputes for his clients. He probably knew exactly where you were at any given time and you knew that, in the past, he even tracked your phone and vehicle. It was a rather tricky situation and the worst of it all was that you had nothing with you.

You had no clothes, no money, no phone and no identification.

***

A few days after your encounter with Cillian and your brother, you had built up the strength and attended your local bank branch together with Dermont who had been lending you as much money as he could The bank manager knew you well as James McCullan’s wife and you were not required to provide any kind of identification to him. But, regardless of this, he wouldn’t give you any money.

Your husband had cut you off and cleared out every account which was in joint names. He took everything from you and you had nothing left but the clothes on your back.

“You need a lawyer Y/N and, if you are not going to see Cillian, at least go and see Legal Aid” Dermont urged you on after you left the bank in tears but, the truth was, that you already saw Legal Aid with your case worker, Laura, who was working at the shelter.

Legal Aid couldn’t help you. Their case loads were too high and you were told that, since you could afford it, you should be seeing a private attorney to assist you with your case.

***

In the end, this was what you did three days later.  

During those three days, you had built up all of the courage you could and went to see Cillian at his offices. You were accompanied by Laura, your case worker, for emotional support and had written down everything you considered important.

Dressed in a worn-out pair of jeans, some sneakers and a basic black t-shirt, all of which you were given at the shelter, you travelled downtown into possibly one of the nicest areas of London.

You felt completely out of place in this area but, yet, this district wasn’t unfamiliar to you. Your husband used to work in the exact same street where Cillian’s law firm was located and this, in itself, worried you.

You wondered if he still came here, to this area, on occasion and, if he did, would you be unlucky enough to run into him?

You sure hoped not and, when you reached the high rise building in which you were said to meet Cillian, you sighed with relief. This sense of relief lasted at least until you stepped into the elevator and nervousness immediately sat back in.

But, it wasn’t your husband who you were nervous about now. You were nervous about seeing Cillian and you were nervous about what he might think of you and what questions he might have for you.

He already had asked your case worker for photographic evidence of your injuries and you had already authorized him to get a copy of your discharge papers from the hospital in which you had stayed less than a week ago. This was after your husband had beaten you so badly that you miscarried at nine weeks.

There were allegations of emotional, physical and sexual abuse and you knew that, talking with Cillian about it all, was going to be difficult. You didn’t know how he would react and you were embarrassed about it all. You felt weak and vulnerable and this made you incredibly sick and nauseous.  

***

“You must be Y/N, it is nice to meet you” a woman said, greeting you shortly after you sat down in the waiting room of Cillian’s offices. Him and his partner had about seventy employees and this, in itself, was quite impressive.  

“Yes. It is nice to meet you too” you stammered nervously seeing how nicely the young woman was dressed.

“I am Janette. I am a paralegal and I work for Mr Murphy. He is just on a conference call and asked me to show you to the meeting room. He should be finished soon” she explained while giving you a quick assessment, probably thinking how a woman dressed like this can afford to pay the firm’s legal fees.

“Okay, great” you said nonetheless before you and Laura followed her to a large conference room and Janette offered you each a cup of coffee.

You gladly accepted the coffee and waited for Cillian who, after another ten minutes, came flying through the door.

“I am so sorry” he said, apologizing for being late and, to your surprise, instead of shaking your hand, he gave you a quick hug.  

“It’s okay. Thanks for seeing me and…uhm…I am sorry about last time Cillian. I really am” you stammered after the scent of his aftershave had just left your nostril. He smelled amazing and the navy-blue suit he was wearing really suited him. He still looked like he did eighteen years ago, just a little more mature, with a few grey hairs.

“Don’t be. I am glad you changed your mind” Cillian told you in response before sitting down across from you, right next to Janette who flicked her hair back seductively and smiled.

Cillian then sat there in silence for a moment, looking at you as if he didn’t know what to say and, he probably didn’t. Perhaps he just wanted to be the person to tell you that everything will be okay. Perhaps he just wanted to be the person to comfort you. Or, perhaps, he just wanted to be the person to help you through your darkest times.

Eventually though, he began to talk and took you through the legal process slowly. He told you what the steps were, including obtaining an AVO, gaining financial support for you and requesting your husband to return your property to you, including your identification documents and mobile phone. He then reassured you that getting custody for your son would not be an issue given his age. He explained that, at 16, your son decides who he wants to live with and this was a relief for you. And, finally, he mentioned divorce. Of course, with all of this, you needed to apply for divorce. It was inevitable and you couldn’t wait until you were free from this monster.

“First, let’s talk about the AVO and getting you some financial support from him. This seems to be the most urgent matter and I have looked through the evidence and the discharge report from the hospital last week. You lied to the nurses and I am not going to ask you why. I am sure you had your reasons. But I am telling you that, the fact that you did, will make it more difficult for us to prove that you need protection from your husband” Cillian then explained quite suddenly before giving you a reassuring look.

“So, I cannot get an AVO against him?” you asked a little confused.

“We will get you an AVO Y/N but, if he challenges it, we will need to gather some more evidence” Cillian explained before handing you a box of tissues as he could see that you were becoming emotional already.

“The bruises and injuries seem quite severe. How are you coping with them now?” Cillian then asked and, whilst you knew that it wasn’t relevant to his case, you appreciated his gesture.

“It’s still painful and I am still bleeding from losing the baby” you explained reluctantly and you could see that Cillian struggled to digest what you were telling him.

“I am sorry Y/N, but I need to ask you some more questions about the harm he caused” Cillian said after taking a deep sigh.

“I know” you cried, holding on to Laura’s hand.

“Has he hurt you like this before or was this the first time?” Cillian asked carefully, knowing that this may trigger you to become even more upset and emotional.

“Yes” you cried before getting into more detail for him.

“He has hurt me many times. He beat me, raped me. He did terrible things to me. For years, he just treated me like I am worth nothing” you cried, your voice clearly emotional now.

“Y/N…” Cillian began to say with his professional façade dropping slowly.

“Don’t. I know… Just ask what you need to know” you told him quickly, interrupting him before he could say anything else.

“Okay” Cillian said before collecting his thoughts. He didn’t want to upset you anymore and decided to move on.

“Are there any records of prior injuries with other hospitals or medical centers?” he then asked and you nodded again.

“A year ago, I had severe burns and I saw my general practitioner to get some cream for them” you told Cillian for teary eyes.

“Burns? Did he inflict them?” Cillian asked a little surprised.

“Yes, he did! When James found out that…uhm…I…I had an abortion about a year ago he…” you cried, breaking down slowly.

“Take your time Y/N” Cillian told you while reaching across the table and holding onto your hand, unbothered by the fact that you held on to a wet tear-soaked tissue.

“He burned me” you sobbed.

“How did he burn you?” Cillian asked. He was shocked.

“He used the iron I used to do his shirts with and he just fucking burned me with it. It hurt so fucking much” you cried heavily, causing even Cillian to feel dizzy and it was at this point that Laura suggested for you to have a break.

Of course, both Cillian and Janette agreed but it was when they left the room and you overheard them talk about you that you became even more emotional than before.

“Why would anyone put up with this? I would never allow anyone to treat me like this” Janette told Cillian who, luckily for you, had your back and reminded her that cases like this are more common than she thought before re-entering the room without her.

“I don’t think I can do this. I am sorry for having wasted your time” you said to Cillian as soon as he walked back into the room.

“Y/N, please. I know it is hard but it is important for you tell me everything. Otherwise, I can’t build your case” Cillian told you but you hated it here, in this sterile conference room, being surrounded by a lawyer, a paralegal and a caseworker.

“Cillian, I feel like I am being judged. I am so embarrassed to lay out my life in front of all of you in a place I am not comfortable with” you explained to him and he silently nodded.

You could see that he was thinking about something and you decided to wait patiently to see if there was anything else he wanted to say.

“How about this…” Cillian eventually began, carrying on slowly.

“Tomorrow, I will get an order from the judge for urgent financial support and we will go to the police together and get an AVO against James. By the time James can challenge it, two or three weeks would have passed and, during those two or three weeks, I will come and see you at the shelter every day. You tell me as much as you are comfortable with. It’s just going to be you and me, at your pace. When I have enough information, I will file for divorce on your behalf and bring the charges against your husband for domestic abuse and anything else he has done to you. Sounds good?” Cillian asked while taking your hands into his carefully and in a comforting way.

“Just you and me? Without my brother, without any case workers or paralegals?” you asked after swallowing harshly.

“Yes, just you and me. Does that work for you?” Cillian asked and you reluctantly nodded. You were lacking options and, whilst you didn’t want to spill your misery to Cillian, he was probably the one who cared the most about your case. No other lawyer in this country would have had as much empathy and compassion towards you and you appreciated that.

Tag List:

@fastfan @drstrangegf  

@kpopgirlbtssvt @cdej6 @kathrinemelissa @landlockedmermaid77 @crazymar15 @m3th-kate (cannot tag)

@damedomino  

@lauren-raines-x @miss-bunny19 @halleisheree (cannot tag)

@skinny-bitch-juice @odorinana @cloudofdisney @lexiwoods (cannot tag)

@weepingstudentfishhorse @allexiiisss @geminiwolves @letsstarsfalling @ysmmsy @chlorrox @tommyshelbypb @chocolatehalo @music-lover911 @desperate-and-broken @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @peaky-cillian @lelestrangerandunusualdeetz

@december16-1991 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @romanogersendgame @randomfangirl2718 @dorothea-hwldr (cannot tag)

@missymurphy1985 @peakyscillian @lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @elenvampire21 (cannot tag)

@hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 (cannot tag)

@fairypitou @zozeebo @kasaikawa @littleweirdoalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder (cannot tag)

@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback

@1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @mcntsee @janelongxox @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @vhscillian @crazymar15 @im-constantly-fangirling @namelesslosers @littlewhiterose @ttzamara @cilleveryone

@peaky-cillian @severewobblerlightdragon @dolllol2405 @pkab @babaohhhriley @littleweirdoalien @alreadybroken-ts @masteroperator @stevie75 @shabzy96 @rainbow12346 @obsessedwithfandomsx @geeksareunique @laysalespoir @paigem00 @lkarls @suneshinebelledaisy (cannot tag)

@vamp-army @luckystarme @myjumper @gxorg @eline-1806

@goldenharrysworld @cristinagronk16 @stylesofloki

@faatxma @slut-for-matt-murdock

@tpwkstiles @myjumper @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @smellyzcat @kittycatcait219 (cannot tag)

@theliterarybeldam @bekkiemahonxx95 (cannot tag)

@layazul @slutforprentiss03 (cannot tag)

@blossemedfloweroflove (cannot tag)

@lyn07 @kagilmore @dakotapaigelove (cannot tag)

@50svibes @mainstreetlilly

@ourthatgirlabby @bitchwhytho @arthurdeservesbetterrip (cannot tag)

@takethee

@registerednursejackie

@sofi128 @mrkdvidal1989 (cannot tag)

@minxsblogt

@annipiola (cannot tag)

@lenaskyler02

@masteroperator @swanlakeparadis

@kimbii-eve (cannot tag)

@champagnesocialistsposts @alessioayla @ghazalshelby 

@cdauni 

@freetimemachinequeen

[akaashioppa]

Forever Will Never Be The Same

pairings: oikawa x reader

summary: The reader finally confronts her husband Oikawa after cheating allegations in the male locker room. angst!!!

warnings: curse words, mentions of the reader having a son with Oikawa, confronting of cheating. 

w/c: 1736

A/N: first time writing for Oikawa :)

Haikyuu Masterlist  Masterlist

“Everyone get out now!”

Your voice echoed off the metal lockers of the locker room. Eyes widened as you made your way into the changing room, not because of the fact that a girl was entering the male’s locker room. It was the fact that Oikawa (Y/N) was coming to kick her husband’s ass. Just as every man passed you to flee, their musky scent filled your nose making you cringe.

After the final whistle of the game, people were scavenging to take pictures with Oikawa Toru except you. Each morning that you woke your husband up he would give you one of those cheeky grins that he was giving the fans right now, the stupid grin was fake. Laughter, jokes, and cries filled your ears, for what reason? The Great King made his grand entrance back to the court, winning both sets with the help of Iwaizumi. The Great King himself showered his fans with love and pictures while you stood from afar, anger flowing through your veins. Knowing the Poker Face King for ten years and having been married to him for two, it was easy to mimic the grin. As girls would pass by screaming about the pictures they took with him you would shoot them that famous grin. 

You timed each moment perfectly, celebrating the win, pictures with fans, interviews with the sports commentators, more fan interaction and now he hits the locker room for a shower. Luckily for you, he was beginning to take his sweaty jersey off, beads of sweat from the previous game were still prominent.

“What are you doing here?” The look on his face was one of a kind, it was a mixture of panic and anger. Nothing to be afraid of, it’s not like he didn’t give you the same look when you caught him at the bar with another woman. Or the time you were driving down the road with his phone constantly going off, every other minute he’d get notifications, this would go on for hours.

The yelling of the men from the locker room made you come back to reality. Have they not seen a woman before or was it because you were standing there looking at their dick prints? A white tint cast over their knuckles from how hard they were holding their towels around their waist. ‘What a sight to see

“You can either tell me the truth or you can tell me the truth there’s no in-between.” You barked at Oikawa, men were still scattering out of the locker room. You barely gave them time to leave before you bombarded your husband with your question. 

The  panic on his face was quite entertaining, he moved in front of you so you couldn’t see his half-naked teammates running out of the locker room.“What are you talking about!?”

“When were you going to tell me that you went to a nightclub with Iwaizumi!? He told me everything so I’m giving you the chance to come clean about it!”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you were going to be mad.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You got straight to the point, there was no need for you to sit here and procrastinate any longer. This has been on your mind ever since you got those three attachments from Iwaizumi.

“No” He scoffed, “Why would I sleep with her? I have too much respect for you to sleep with her.”

“Oh really, the way you were holding her waist makes me think differently. The way you kissed her neck makes me want to snap yours!” You held up a photo on your phone with him and another girl at the nightclub. His head was in her neck, you could see that he was kissing on it, his arms were wrapped around her waist but his hands were dangerously low.“Respect? Do you even know the definition of respect because if you did you wouldn’t have me out here looking stupid!”

He sat down on the bench of the locker room, his arms were tightly around his chest. Oikawa was already over this conversation, this wasn’t the first time you blew up in the face about this. Nor the second, he respected you in a weird way. He never laid hands on you, or even yelled at you but he couldn’t keep his hands off other women. 

“How do I make you look stupid!? I give you everything you want!”

“Everything but love.” You yelled desperately, the thing about arguing with him about these situations was that he’d always claim that he knew what you wanted. He’d always try to bring light on the situation when he clearly fucked up. He was a great husband, you guys had been dating since high school. Since he got the fame and money things turned upside down, he became a legit monster. 

“I show love to you every day, I make love to you every week!” His voice rose an octave, his hand was flying all over the place when he spoke. 

You were appalled, sickened, offended, that he could say something like that. It hurts to know that he thinks this way, it almost makes you feel worthless. Does he really consider having sex as love? “That’s not loving Toru, that's lust.”

He sighed, his hands were on his knees, he got up to finish packing up his things. “Well, I’m over it. I don’t want you here anymore. Leave”

“How can you give up so easily on us.” You forced his hands away from his bag, he looked at you with a confused face. You poked him hard in his chest slowly provoking him, “I forgave you so many times after you treated me like trash. All the times you cheated and came home with women’s numbers falling out of your pockets. Many sleepless nights just to make sure that your knee would stop bothering you. I wake up every morning to make you your special breakfast so you can be game ready and yet I haven’t given up on you.”

“I’m just tired of arguing with you. All you do is complain about my lifestyle. If you can’t keep up then we shouldn’t be together. How can I keep consoling you after you get all jealous about me hanging out with fans or me taking pictures with my fans? It’s just toxic (Y/N).” He spat back, he didn’t seem angered. It was more of an annoyed look. 

“Because you only hang out with female fans, it’s fine and all but when they’re posting sexual pictures with you, it’s a different story. I scroll down my feed to see you with more women than see pictures of us together. It’s like I don’t exist”

“Whatever (Y/N) I need to get ready for the after-party.”

“What about us? How are we going to fix this?”

“There is no us!” He screamed, his voice echoed off the lockers. He placed his hands on his hips trying to compose himself. “It’s only you and Torio. And me, Torio and volleyball! There is no us, not anymore and that’s it!”

You took a step back, each word was like a dagger in your heart. He would often bring your son into the matter. Ever since your son was born you’ve always felt like you and Oikawa had grown apart. It was like you were forcing yourself to stay for Torio’s sake. There would be days where things were good, on those days you and Oikawa wouldn’t argue. However, when days like this occur he’d make you hurt, you’d always end up questioning your ability of loving. Deep down you felt like you guys were drifting apart but you didn’t want to admit it. It was too painful, Oikawa would have been left if it weren’t for Torio. He wanted his fans and the sports media to look at him as a family man.

“Why is it so hard to ask someone to love me!?” Your breaking point had finally come, you held your hands over your mouth to stop the loud sobs. It was hard to know that your husband and high school sweetheart didn’t want you. You gave up everything to support him with his dreams, family, friends, work, school, and even your fucking sanity and yet she still treats you this way. 

He stood there watching you beat yourself down, he didn’t do anything but place a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged it off, the last thing you wanted was for him to touch you. “Listen I loved you back in high school but now high school is over. You’re still basing this love off of that and I’m not here for it. All these insecurities you have are a bit annoying in my defense. Maybe this relationship would work if you grew the fuck up.”

“You can’t give up on us now. We need each other. Torio needs his dad. ” Lie, you needed him. Yes, Torio needed his dad but you needed your husband. It was crazy to think that you would go back to him but it was just your toxic ways. You never loved anyone but him, he was all that you had. Your life that you lived was based upon him. 

“Look, we can talk about this later if you want, but right now I have thousands of fans waiting for me to show my face. You can either suck it up and go out there with me or you can hit the back doors and go home.”

“Toru…”

“What do you want?” He groaned, he turned back around with an annoyed face. He was fed up with you and even the situation. You knew he wanted you gone, he was waiting for the minute you’d leave so he could go and party. 

Obviously an answer, he was too consumed with himself to even realize that. It was the reason why you came in here yelling at his teammates to leave, you wanted to ask him a question in private. The thought of getting your feelings hurt in front of everyone was not ideal.

“I just asked a simple question. Did you sleep with her?”

You looked up at him for the first him, your vision was blurry but you could see him well enough to see that stupid smirk.“What do you think?”

[peachiipark]

hi I'm a new follower and I am so glad I found this blog for hxh content💓So could I have some Main four hcs (Gon, Killua, Kurapika and Leorio) of how they have fun together as a squad(fluffy stuff plz)

happy to have you here, thanks for following! :D i've been waiting for some more main four requests 💗 i love them sm 😭🙏

the main four and how they have fun

even though it'll end in a very heated argument between killua and leorio. BOARD/CARD GAMES.

how did this tradition start? well, killua and gon were talking about the imaginary rules of uno when kurapika walked in

"i don't follow.. why are you two having a discussion about a number? leorio told me that uno is one in spanish."

they sat him down IMMEDIATELY for an uno round bc it turned out that he has NEVER played classic games like those

(he did play poker once)

THEY PLAY MONOPOLY TOO

kurapika silently robs all of them of their money and attempts to apply real life logic in this lawless hell of a game

leorio buys boardwalk but no one lands on it for the entire round 💀 he's also the banker!

killua.. is a con artist and constantly lands in jail

gon is trying to break the tension

THEY PROBABLY WATCH SOME OLD MOVIES TOO

it all started when gon revealed that he had never seen mean girls and kurapika agreed. leorio and killua sat those two mfs down and forced pop culture down their throats

shopping sprees but they all go to different stores 😭

killua goes to hot topic (listen their shit is good)

leorio goes to gucci (as he should)

kurapika craves revenge not clothing. (so he enters a barnes and noble)

gon follows killua around bc he just wants to go to the food court

nen users need to train.. how would they do it together ??

they'd be disrupting public spaces no matter where they went 😭

kurapika pulling up in the most MUTED colored tracksuit with a ponytail as he complains

"i can assure you that i'm perfectly fine. i already stretched before we arrived."

leorio (the cause of kurapika's complaining) is forcing him to stretch before he does anything so his muscles aren't damaged

"yes, and you also sat in a car for ten minutes. refresh yourself! now breathe in-"

gon and killua are doing bad bitch shit and seeing who can climb a tree faster

A POOL DAY OH MY GOD

kurapika is sitting on a pool chair reading a book the whole time bc i can't imagine him actually getting into the water unless one of the other push him in

(they don't dare push him in.. but killua will make an attempt)

gon and killua are having so much fun that it's actually sickening bc of how cute they are

leorio is just trying to keep up with those little paddling mfs

killua godspeeds in the pool

the water has been electrified

accidents.. happened! needless to say that kurapika is very happy that he didn't go into the water <3

sometimes

when they're huddling up for warmth as they watch a movie

they fall asleep and snuggle :(

ILL TELL YOU EXACTLY WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE

we've got gon and killua resting on each other's shoulders

leorio pulling them in with one arm and holding kurapika in the other

and kurapika is always the last one to fall asleep

mostly because of the loud snoring coming from his friends

but because he's grateful that he can even be by them :(((

and he falls asleep with a smile on his face :((

BUT LEORIO WAS AWAKE THE WHOLE TIME SO HE COULD TAKE THEM TO THEIR BEDS

mornings? although id love to believe the headcanon that kurapika can cook, i see leorio as the cooker!

he needs to strap kurapika down just so he can look the breakfast plate in the eye

gon is on the verge of eating his plate too

killua is not a morning person so he'll be down later (don't even try to wake him up.. please)

SIGHHHH i love making myself sad

this was a lot but i hope you enjoyed! thanks for following me :D i tend to go wild on headcanons like this haha

accompany on: to the masterlist!

[themculibrary]

Tony/Phil Masterlist

Acting Up (ao3) - arianapeterson19 T, 1k

Summary: Tony Stark is nothing like they thought he would be. They thought living with Tony would be like one great big, acid trip of an adventure. But it was surprisingly not.

OR

The one where the Avengers give Tony a hard time for being subdued and then find out why.

All Cooked Up (ao3) - CeliaEquus E, 2k

Summary: Everyone feels sorry for Phil, having such a wild, difficult Omega for a mate. Little do they know...

Billionaire's cake (ao3) - everythingispoetry G, 16k

Summary: The first time Phil gets to eat something baked by Tony, it's purely accidental. The other times - not so much. Or: a story about a relationship that starts with donuts and doesn't end because of donuts.

Breaking Perimeter (ao3) - derryderrydown G, 821

Summary: How did Tony get past Coulson's guard in Iron Man 2?

calm (ao3) - orphan_account E, 5k

Summary: Coulson was assigned to be Stark's handler. Stark didn't take to following orders the way Coulson expected.

Don't touch him (ao3) - awesome_goddess_of_mischief M, 3k

Summary: After Phil's death, the team moves into Stark tower to keep bonding. Tony is wearing himself thin trying to honour his husband's last wish, for the team to be together.

But it's slowly starting to become too much.

The team bullies continuely. Until one day the genius breaks. Luckily there's an unexpected guest ready to put the pieces back together again.

How to Court a Genius (ao3) - CeliaEquus E, 7k

Summary:

"Hey, Jarv. Who left this?" "The gift is from Agent Coulson, sir." Tony looked up, jaw dropping. "Agent? Why would he leave me… flowers? Kind of." He put the shape tool back in the stand, and played absently with the petals. "I cannot imagine why anyone would gift another person with flowers such as these; but then you are not like other people, sir. Nor is Agent Coulson."

In which Phil goes all out courting Tony, who has no idea how to respond to it all. But he's definitely being swept off his feet!

Just Tonight (ao3) - smaragdbird G, 1k

Summary: Coulson helps Tony with figuring out how to cure his palladium poisoning. Fury thinks Coulson is having Stockholm syndrome.

Let's Celebrate (That I Found You) (ao3) - Roodles T, 4k

Summary: It's Tony's first Christmas as a married man, and things have changed. The stakes seem a little higher, and it's not just strip poker and Star Trek marathons anymore... Islands are fantastic Christmas presents, right?

Lost Halves (ao3) - SiniseSnakeEyes T, 27k

Summary: He had been around four when Maria Stark had found him in her private garden. He had been glad in strange clothes, which had been to big for him and seemed to be better fitted for an adult instead of a child. Maria Stark, always a gentle soul, approached the child that shouldn’t be here – in a garden that was located on a private property far away from the next bigger city – and kneeled before the confused looking boy...

Off Script (ao3) - bear_bell T, 18k

Summary: Agent Coulson sees Stark smile, and he's compromised.

Orders from the Director (ao3) - Silver_KnightShade G, 14k

Summary: Coming back to the US by orders of the Director of SHIELD, they Rogue Avengers didn't know what they were walking into. They thought there was some kind of emergency they had to help with. They never thought they would be faced with an angry husband.

Rejection (ao3) - CeliaEquus G, 4k

Summary: Based on a prompt on the Avengers Kink Meme.

On his 25th birthday, Tony Stark finds his soul-mate, Phil Coulson. But his reputation is the ultimate barrier, and Phil rejects him. When SHIELD becomes interested in Tony fifteen years later, they send their best agent to him. And then the Avengers Initiative happens. Now working together, Phil realises just how big a mistake he's made. But will Tony ever forgive him?

THEN (ao3) - Era_Penn M, 18k

Summary: Questions flung from the sidelines, from the reporters and fans and fellow stars. Always with the questions. Tony deflected or joked, generally being a nuisance. The media thought they knew all his dirty little secrets. They were wrong. ***** Phil Coulson was known as Evan tonight. There was a street fight destined to get bloody, and it was as good a place as any to look for new recruits; they’d tracked Barton down at a similar site years ago. One never knew when they’d find a gem among the trash.

Afghanistan was before and after, but they, they were then and now. This is the story of THEN.

Words we don't say (ao3) - smaragdbird M, 3k

Summary: Toni Stark is not Phil's type. And neither is Phil Toni's.

[wikluk]

Oh my gosh I just realized that in to long to stay Isabela being engaged to Mariano will be an ever more big deal since her mom is dead she is now has to worry about diying in childbirth and to be more responsible. And oh now Mirabel won’t have that cute scene with her and Julieta healing her hand, unless one of her sister does it? Does Isabela try to act like a mother to her sister before Agustin start dating again? Since Isabela remember her mom does she feel betrayed that her dad is getting remarried?

That's where come in differences in relationships I spoke about.

Isabela isn't and never was engaged to Mariano but Dolores is. Isabela isn't and never was Senorita Perfecta. Agustin set some boundaries that Alma never crossed and Isabela never felt the pressure of being perfect and not making any mistakes. Her life is marked by the trauma of losing her mama, and Isabela has anger issues. She's easily annoyed and angered, she wears her emotions on her sleeve. She cares deeply about her family but doesn't know how to show it sometimes. She's a rather rough type.

Dolores is her closest family member. They're like twins, and Dolores perfectly understands what Isabela needs. She's there when Isa needs to rant or cry or break some things. She's there to hear her at her worst and at her weakest time. She never judges, always listens, and that's all Isa needs sometimes.

Isabela isn't the type of a responsible big sister; Luisa is.

Luisa is like a big sister to both Isabela and Mirabel. Since she doesn't remember their mother (unlike Isabela), she had it a little easier. But... She feels a strong need to protect. Seeing Isabela cry and break down, or Mirabel trying her best, sometimes too much, is when she feels like she isn't enough. That's when she wishes Julieta was there. But she tries to be strong for them all, for her papa and her sisters, and if anything, Luisa makes herself overwork and worry constantly, and nobody (but Julieta in her realm and Mirabel around the time of Antonio's gift ceremony) sees it because she hides her emotions. Unlike Isabela, she keeps everything to herself and perfected a poker face she often uses. She's still very sensitive but mastered keeping her emotions at bay and when she cries, it's late in the night, when she's sure nobody hears her. Dolores sometimes does. But she never told anybody.

The girls' relationship with Agustin's fiancee? Well...

Let's start with Mirabel because it all kinda happened because of Mirabel. Around the age of 11, Mirabel started attending private lessons in sewing and embroidery at their local seamstress, a woman about a decade younger than the triplets. Mirabel quickly befriended her, and since she was kind of a teacher to Mirabel, she often talked to Agustin about his daughter's progress and projects and so on. Over the next three years, their relationship developed and about a year before the movie, they started courting. Well, it was kinda awkward for Mirabel because his now-fiancee is basically her teacher, but she's quite happy for her father.

Luisa is mostly neutral. It feels weird to have a new woman around and to see her by her papa's side, since Luisa remembers him being alone and on his own for a good 12 years of her life, but she tries to be happy for him. It's awkward but she wants her father to be happy, she really does. She's friendly towards his fiancee but not the best-buddies type.

Isabela... At first, she was furious. She didn't want any woman in her father's life, not after Julieta's death, because she remembers how heartbroken Agustin was after Julieta's passing and she doesn't want him to be hurt again. And since his fiancee is 40, she can still have kids, do if she got pregnant and died... The history would repeat itself, and it terrifies her. But over time, she became... kinder to the fiancee. She still doesn't talk to her if she doesn't have to and turns her head with a grimace whenever she and Agustin show each other any kind of affection. Deep down she's angry that it's not Julieta who is by her papa's side but some other woman. It's complicated. She doesn't exactly like his fiancee... But it's more because she's worried about him than anything. But when Julieta comes back... Well, everything changes.

[sly-merlin]

GOT PLAYED | JENO

Hello mam can I request a lawyer jeno scenario where reader (gender neutral so everyone can read) is a prosecutor and they are in the same court together

Lawyer Boyfriend jeno , gender neutral lawyer reader

Genre : fluff with nonsense bickering

Words: 1.5k

a/n: jeno is a big boi now! Happy jeno-ing!! Also the terms used are local to my country. It may vary in your state.

----

your butt was itching to dance out in the centre of the courtroom. Clicking your forefinger on the watch, you observed the lovely minute hand completing another circle, indicating the approaching end of the waiting time. The opposing party being a minute more late would mean nothing but good news for your client, resulting in another victory for you.

But when had you ever won anything without a little struggle! As the clock on the wall hit 11, the door of the room opened and across the room stood Jeno, breathing heavily like he had been running since hours. You rolled your eyes at his awful timing. He handed over his briefcase to his client and wore his blazer hurriedly while simultaneously bowing to the judge in deference and apology. The judge, disregarding his gesture with his hand called him to the front. You got up as well, in annoyance of course. You had very much hoped for his car to have punctured on its way but it seemed like he needed to get on your nerves even in the court as well. standing beside him, you couldn’t help but notice the wrinkles on the right side of his blazer. The oddity puzzled you at first but suddenly, with a subtle glare from his side, you were made aware of the reason behind his change of clothes. Not wearing the ones that you steam ironed last night was a show of anger towards you, even if it made him look like a fool in front of the whole chamber.

“a minute late and I’d have passed an interlocutory order against your client Mr.lee” breaking your trance, the judge warned him. He bowed again and mumbled a mannerly apology, the like of which you deserved too.

“today the hearing would start with the counter evidence of the defendant side, that is,” he sifted through the list of the evidence provided beforehand, “the bank records of both the parties. Please proceed advocate lee”

“yes, your honour. As I explained in a previous hearing, my client, mrs. Shin has been working as a manager of the Kwon industries since 14 years. On the other hand, mr. shin started a poker business with the money she used to save up for their only son’s future. All the transactions from her personal accounts to mr. shin’s were innocently carried out by her as she was kept under a false impression regarding the use of her money, which she never would have allowed in her right mind. The proof of these transfers is the evidence I’m going to present that is the receipts and annual reports.”

The urge to smack his tongue for the lies it told was uncontrollable but you breathed in. you inhaled all the bitterness back to your throat and stood there like an obedient child with a face ridden of any expressions.

After what felt like minutes, you snapped your head in his direction to notice the browsing he was doing in his briefcase. The questionable look on his face drew a smirk into your own as you understood the sensitiveness of the matter in hand. He forgot. The papers!

Throwing your charitable side out of the door, you turned towards the judge,

“it seems like the opposing counsel has nothing to produce, your honour.”

You felt his clenching jaw and irritated eyes.

“mr. lee, if you are unable to proceed then i’ll have to pass a maintenance order against your client.”

“no!” he interrupted, “that would be unfair to this poor lady sir. don’t penalise her for my negligence. The evidence can turn the course of this whole case. if you may, I’d request another date-

“he’s going to forget again. He forgets everything these days” before you could control, you spit out.

The judge didn’t seem to be impressed by your uncalled interruption so he warned you to speak only when allowed. But with a mouth as big as his, jeno never knew what resistance meant so he remarked,

“and my dear friend here forgets the ethics of a courtroom, disrespecting seniors like this! There is not much difference between us then I must say.”

Your lip twitched at the not so subtle mention of the fight you had in the morning, right before the breakfast. Now you were adamant on proving that no matter the place and circumstances, you were definitely not similar to him in any way.

“disrespecting and raising matters of importance are two varied things and my dear counsel should be reading those ethic rules for himself as he’s the one jeopardising the position of his client in the court due to his own manners. I request the court to grant mr. shin all the rights to his properties that mrs. Shin had seized years ago. He’s a disabled man and he cannot work by himself and the lack of evidence is a clear indication that the defendants are just trying to waste the time of the court. Along with the rights of the properties, a lawful possession of the house and maintenance charges are also requested. All the claims can be found on the page 15 of the-

“I object, your honour. I am accepting my mistake. This woman deserves a second chance. My junior was sick and since he has no near and dear in this town, I had to go and care for him. in the hurry, I forgot the papers at home. It was not delibra-

“what if you don’t remember this next time either? Until then my client is going to suffer in a small and stinky apartment and all because of your carelessness.”

“I’m not careless,” He whispered yelled.

“yes,” now facing him, you said, arms crossed in front of you torso, “a man who can’t even hold a mug properly shouldn’t be the one talking about-

“you started it by smashing the music box. It was a gift by jaemin. I bet you did it deliberately too!”

“I was sleep walking! I apologised already! There was no need to break my favourite mug you bit-

The sound of gavel reverberated in the small family courtroom, snapping both of you in the reality.

You gulped slightly, eyes boring into jeno’s but with unknown fear. In an instant, the worst consequences of blunder you both had knowingly-unknowingly committed flashed across your eyes and you both whirled around, backs bent like you both never knew what a straight spine ever looked like!

“keep your personal and professional life separate or choose the one most suitable. The court is adjourned for two days. You both shall be heavily fined for your inappropriate behaviour. Next time, I won’t be lenient. Collect your slips from the clerk.”

Apologising verbally, you took your leave.

Standing outside, you waited for the lunch time to pass so you could pay the fine. you were mad at jeno but more than him, you were furious with yourself for losing your direction. You had done exactly what you were trying to accuse jeno of in the court.

Your eyes were closed in regret when you felt soft lips on your forehead.

Smiling widely, jeno stood there as if he hadn’t been scolded for the unprofessionalism just a few hours ago.

“don’t talk to me.” You uttered, lowering your gaze.

“awww! Look how easy it is to rile you up. Thank you though”

unsure of what he said, you asked,

“for what?”

“for fighting with me! Your bickering saved my ass. The old man was going to decide the case but your cute brain worked at the wrong time! Now I have two days to turn all my lies into a living truth. All because of you my darling.”

“what the fuck I’m gonna ki-

“yeah yeah. kiss me all you want when we are home. Be professional here!” he breathed out. “how about I treat you to a nice meal to return the favour.”

Chest heaving up and down, you looked him dead in the eye, his revelations not sounding too amusing to your ears. Raising your hand up and waving the fine slip in front of him, you challenged,

“I dare you to repeat this again and I promise you wont get enough time to regret it!”

Not that you actually expected him to cry in front of you in intimidation, a hearty laugh from his body wasn’t anticipated either.

“what the fuck je-

You were once again cut off by his lips that met your cheek in a wet kiss, lasting too long for a public setting.

You hated the way he loved testing your patience.

Moving his soft lips from your cheek to your ear, he sighed before murmuring in an indecently low voice,

“you better get a new music box before jaemin visits me or I know how to make you regret your actions.”

Unmoved, you stared at him with doe eyes. He walked away before returning back only to snatch the paper slip from your hands.

“I’ll pay and sign. Go have lunch. Try to finish early today, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Innocently smiling, he left as if everything that had happened was nothing but delusion. And you hated the way he knew you like the back of his hand. But you were going to make sure he lost this one to you. Once and forever.

[bisexualwannabewriter]

“This is killing me” Part Twelve - Spencer Reid x female reader

Summary : You’re working for the BAU, and Dr Spencer Reid is your best friend on the  team. Actually, he’s your best friend, pErIoD. The thing is, you’re not supposed to feel that way about your  best friend. He makes you feel some type of way, everyone in the  team   can see it, except you and him.

In the previous chapter, you put all of your focus on a new case involving a disorganized unsub, with an obsession with conspiracy theories and the existence of “lizard people” within our society. Spencer tried to tell you something about his date with officer Maggie Rowe, and Derek even tried to encourage you to listen to what he had to say. In addition to everything, you overheard a conversation between Spence and Maggie, that left you dubious : the both of them kissed, but it didn’t seem like things were going well between them...

You can find all the previous chapters here.

Chapter Summary : Your hard work has paid off. On the trip back to Quantico though, you and Spencer finally have the most honest conversation you’ve had so far. Your relationship takes a new turn, but things can never go too smoothly between the two of you. Still, after some clarification from Derek, hope starts to creep in...

TW : Violence, death, mental illness, drug use, conspiracy theories, exhaustion, anxiety. It’s fluffy, it’s angsty, it’s romantic, it’s clumsy, the tension is crazy. We’re getting there, people. Slowly but surely.

(Not my GIF)

You caught the unsub in a stupid way, really. He just killed at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Sometimes it happened. You could work as hard as you wanted, know the killer better than yourself... they would just leave one body, in a way that was even more sloppy than the others, and you could catch your man. One mistake, and that was it. It was a good thing, of course, but in situations like this, you never knew what the unsub's next move was going to be. They didn't even know it, until they did it. Your unsub fit in every category of an unorganized killer : below average intelligence, check. Socially inadequate, check. Worked an ungrateful job near the crime scenes, check. Living alone, check. Check, check, check. Your profile, your whole theory on his obsession with lizard people : check. You knew you would have caught him one way or another, as Spencer had managed to narrow down the places where the unsub could have been living, given the places of the last murders. But you caught him thanks to dumb luck. Gabriel Calahan was just a paranoid schizophrenic, whose mental illness had been exacerbated with severe drug use as a teenager. He believed some higher power was ordering him to uncover the truth about those controlling reptilians, who were going to lead us into chaos.

///

On the jet back to Quantico, you sat alone. You needed some peace and quiet. You were exhausted. You really worked your ass off on this case. Derek seemed a bit worried about you, while Hotch and Prentiss were pretty happy with your efforts. Spencer seemed restless, and the bags under his eyes were even darker than usual. His mind was a wonder that worked in mysterious ways, but you could tell he was just really agitated these days. Not telling you what he wanted to tell you, probably took more efforts and energy from him than an average person could possibly understand. You wanted him to go into a peaceful sleep, to forget about what was troubling him. Even in times like this, you just wanted him to be okay. Things were probably complicated for him right now. You somehow managed to get over the fact that he kissed Maggie, and tried to focus on the rest of the chat. It was wrong to listen to people's private conversations, and you lacked context. What they were talking about could mean a hundred different things, and you would know soon enough anyway. The rest of the team was slowly drifting off to sleep, and you were trying to as well, but you could feel Spencer nervously glance at you pretty regularly. At some point, you just gave up, let out a deep sigh, opened your eyes, and motioned him to come join you on the couch.

He sat heavily next to you. You just stayed together in silence for a moment. You didn't want him to start to talk. Because that would be it. You would be having the conversation you had been dreading for a while. Eventually, he had to start talking, and you felt your heart beating like crazy in your chest. "Go ahead Spence, break my heart." was all you could think about. Instead...

"Listen y/n, I know this isn't ideal. But... you have been avoiding me for a while now and... I don't even know if you want me in your life or not anymore. I just... we texted over the holidays and everything, and we hugged like nothing happened when we got back to work but... Things aren't... Things have been weird for a while now, and... I hate it. I hate to see us drift apart like this." You were listening to every single word that was coming out of his mouth as carefully as you could, like someone waiting for their verdict at court. You felt like you were going to get the death penalty somehow. He paused, before starting to talk again. "I don't know what to think anymore. I've been trying to understand, but it seems like my brain... can't function properly when it comes to you." You were going to die from a heart attack, right here and there. On the outside, you tried to put on your best poker face, but hearing Spencer utter those words made your eyes betray you, you were sure of it. You felt exactly like this when it came to him too. How could two people feel things so similarly, and still not understand one another ? He looked so nervous, as he was looking for the right words to say exactly what his heart had been meaning to tell you. " I guess I'm just... I think... Jesus, why is this so complicated ? Just... say something, y/n. Anything."

You honestly didn't know what to say. He said so much and so little at the same time. What was there for you to say ?

"I... I don't know what you want from me Spence... I know things have been weird, and I'm... I'm sorry, okay ? I've been acting strange for the past couple of months, I know it. I just... Of course I want you in my life. And I hate that we don't even know how to talk to each other anymore... You said you wanted to talk about your date ? What does it have to do with anything ?" You tried the innocent card, but Spencer wasn't biting. "Come on y/n... no more mind games. I was trying to get there slowly but... You're not giving me much of an alternative, are you ?" He stared at you, more directly than he had in a while. You hadn't noticed, but he got closer too. You had to fight the urge to drag his face to yours to kiss him feverishly. He was so right, your minds just wouldn't work properly around each other. Something about the way you were looking at him might have given him some newly found determination, because he carried on without letting you out of his sight at any moment, shifting his gaze between your tired eyes and your slightly parted lips. The nervousness was still there, but he was going to say whatever it was he wanted to say, no matter the consequences now.

"As you know, I went on a date with Maggie. It was great. I wanted to have a good time with her. I really did. Everything worked out just fine. It was almost too cliche, how smoothly the evening went." You felt your heart sink in your chest. Yup, there it was, you thought. The end of all hope. "She was wearing this really pretty red dress, and at first, all I could think about was how you have a really pretty red dress too, that you don't put on nearly as often as you should. But then I thought, hey, you're on a date with her, with Maggie. Y/n even seemed happy for you, even though you thought she kind of hated her. So focus on her, focus on Maggie. And I did. I tried." He paused, looking for something in your eyes. Were you supposed to understand where he was getting at with this story ? "I... we kissed. Okay ? I kissed her, after I walked her back home. It was really romantic. The sky was filled with stars, and there was a nice little breeze... I- It was perfect." You couldn't help it, but you wanted to cry. You felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. Why was he telling you this ? It took eveything you had in you to keep listening to him as calmly as possible. "And then... I don't know why, I just... I couldn't... You're not supposed to think so much, when you're kissing someone, are you ? It just makes sense, and you go with the flow. And so... I thought I could kiss her, touch her, and hold her. I wanted to try to take my mind off of... things. But it felt... wrong ? It just felt weird, like something wasn't... what it was supposed to be ?" And then, the hope subtly came back.

You saw how hard it was for him to express himself. What was the point of all of this ? What was he really saying ? You wanted to scream that question, to just demand an answer from him. Your emotions were all over the place. He had a date with Maggie. It was perfect. She was wearing a little red dress, that looked like the one you put on, when you went out of your way to impress him when you went out sometimes. But he had a hard time focusing on the present moment, even as he kissed her, because... ? "What are you saying Spence ?" you murmured as softly as you could, contrasting with the inner turmoil you were facing. He tilted his head to the side, looking almost desperate, silently asking with his eyes why you couldn't understand the true meaning of what he was trying to say.

Behind you, you felt Hotch and JJ move in their seat. The jet was almost back at Quantico. Spencer saw them, and you saw him slouch a little. He looked more exhausted than ever. The determination in his eyes seemed to have abandoned him. "Nothing, y/n. Forget it. I had a date with Maggie, we kissed, but it didn't work out in the end. It's okay. It doesn't matter now." It mattered. You saw how much the whole conversation meant to him. You thought you could understand now. You felt like it was starting to make sense. But you had to hear him say it, otherwise you would never truly believe it. "Spence..." you tried to call, as he stood up. "We're nearly home, and we need some rest. I'm gonna get my things now."

When the jet landed, Spencer barely acknowledged your presence. He went back home as quietly as possible, without letting anyone know he was leaving. Derek helped you with your luggage "You look like you've seen a ghost. I don't understand, didn't he tell you about his date with Maggie ?" You hesitated : "He tried... I don't really know what he was trying to say." He gave you a soft smile and answered "Yes you do y/n. Come on, let me drive you home."

The ride home was pretty quiet. You were both tired. When you got there, Morgan and you sat in silence for a moment, before he told you : "Listen, I know me and Garcia have done enough already when it comes to the two of you. I don't want to overstep on your boundaries. But I feel like you guys just need a little extra push, otherwise it'll take ages." You laughed a little "I thought you said we were going to find our way back to each other at one point or another, no matter how much time it would take ?" He chuckled "Yeah yeah, I know what I said, but listen... what I understood from this entire situation, is that kissing that woman made him realise just how much he wanted you. The only problem with her, no matter how perfect the whole date was, was that she wasn't you. He thought he could be with someone else, he thought he could give her a chance. After all, you showed him you supported his decision, thumbs up and all that bullshit, right ? He kissed her, felt like shit, tried to kiss her some more to get over that weird feeling, started to think about you, got into it, but then she said something, and that threw him off." You were raising your eyebrows at him, questioning what he was reporting. "Hey, me and pretty boy talk a lot, alright ? And what he doesn't tell me, I understand. I see right through him. The rest is just me being good at my job. The only way the kiss kind of worked, was if he was thinking about you. Trust me, I know that. I've been there. You can try and pretend for a little while, until it doesn't work anymore, and you end up feeling like shit because the poor girl doesn't deserve that." You just stayed there, numb with fatigue and the overwhelming nature of what Derek was telling you. You told him about the conversation you overheard between the two of them "I think she was calling him to try and understand why it didn't work out between them, even after that perfect date. Knowing Spencer, he didn't want to hurt her feelings, and he didn't tell her what was really going on." It wasn't like you did either. What WAS really going on ? Morgan answered "Yeah, he vaguely told me about it. My guess ? She knows it's about you. She just needed to hear him say it. Just like you do. But deep down, you know what this all means. You know what's going on." After a little moment, you admitted "You're right. And I knew what he was trying to say, but I just... froze. I can't really... fully comprehend any of it right now. I think I just need some sleep." You paused, before breathing out with a soft smile :  "He tried... he really did..." Morgan answered "Now it's your time to try, pretty lady." You smiled at him, not entirely sure whether that whole conversation was a dream or not, and headed back home to get some restorative sleep.

Chapter Thirteen is here !