Tumgik
#lawyer au
scrimblyscrorblo · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I believe I had a vision, these are rough sketches lol
Giyuu deserves a cravat, I think it’s nice and Sanemi is the most terrifying prosector you’ve ever met
211 notes · View notes
the-scarlet-witch-22 · 3 months
Text
Love and Liabilities: Chapter Two (Agatha Harkness/Fem!Reader)
Tumblr media
Summary: The weekend before your last year of law schools begins, you celebrate the end of your summer associate position, where you meet an intriguing woman at the bar.
Word Count: 6.6k
Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Smut, dirty talk, light degradation kink
A/N: Hello! I’ll be in rehearsals this weekend so I’m updating a few days early. This chapter, as well as the next few, will be set in the past and marked accordingly. Thank you so much to everyone who read chapter one, I’m so glad you enjoyed it! If you’d like to be added to the tag-list let me know. As always, I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think. 🩵
Tag-List: @aggieslittleslut @gilmorelivie @ris-ris-mind @sabstance-blog
Ten Years Prior
There was something so enticing about law school. Every attorney you ever met would warn you not to pursue law. It was their biggest regret, they would bemoan, and share horror stories of mountain high piles of readings and difficult exams that would slowly weed out the unworthy. The hundreds of thousands of dollars you would invest that wouldn’t guarantee you to pass the ever dreaded Bar Exam. The world of law was much like a game of cat and mouse; with the law student being the meek mouse and the demanding law professors and your fellow students as the prowling cats. Despite the many, many, many warnings, you ignored them.
You were the first person in your family to decide you wanted to be an attorney, so you were shocked to learn the vast majority of your classmates already had major ins to some of the top law firms in the country. It didn’t seem to matter that you received a top LSAT score, or that you were also accepted into one of the top law schools in the country, just like them. None of that mattered, you were already hundreds of steps behind everyone else. So, you conditioned yourself to work even harder. Endless hours of studying in the library, attending every office hour your professors would offer, taking any opportunity you could to network with any attorney who would reply to you on LinkedIn.
There was an even more alluring pull for you to get into corporate law, or “Big Law.” It wasn’t just the temptingly sky-high salary, or the perks that came with working for a major firm, it was the reputation. The attorneys who worked in corporate law were practically guaranteed a job in whatever other field or firm they wanted to move to next, due to the prestigious reputation they’d previously acquired. Unfortunately, you were competing against the majority of your classmates, most of whom had those direct family connections. Your ambition would always get the better of you, as it merely made you work even harder.
Eventually it paid off, as you received a summer associate position at the end of your second year at the top corporate law firm in Manhattan, Stark & Strange. You spent your summer working alongside some of the more powerful attorneys in the industry, and received paychecks that were larger than anything you had ever seen prior. The firm paid for an Uber Black to take you to and from your shoebox law school apartment, and even gave you a free gym membership. Practically every meal was comped, as you were wined and dined at restaurants where the bill cost more than your rent. It was a foreign world to you, the grueling hours made up for by designer handbags and any luxury you never dreamed of being able to afford, especially not on a summer associate’s salary.
You made a point to stay as late as they needed, and always volunteered to assist various attorneys with whatever work they needed done. Most of it was grunt work, like looking over a contract for typos, or printing hundreds of documents, but you soaked everything up like a sponge. Despite the many hours you spent at the firm, you hardly ever saw the men whose names were on the building, Tony Stark and Stephen Strange. But, you were making good connections with a few of the other attorneys.
Maria Hill, one of the senior attorneys, usually requested for you to assist her on projects. She was only slightly terrifying, and practically ran the firm like the Navy. But, she was extremely knowledgeable and always made a point to introduce you to anyone she deemed important enough. Towards the end of the summer you were working on a tedious editing assignment from one of the junior attorneys, when Maria sent you an email to stop by her office before the end of the day. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as she sometimes wanted your help with a last minute deal, and she would almost always DoorDash whatever meal you wanted if you stayed long enough.
Once you finally finished your assignment, you packed up your belongings and made your way to the top floor where Maria’s office was located. Stark & Strange was a towering skyscraper in the center of Manhattan. Even though you were in a smaller office with a few of the other summer associates, you still had a breathtaking view of the skyline. Many called the design a waste of time and money, but those people clearly never met Tony Stark. No expense was spared when designing the project, and Maria told you it took over a decade to complete. But, when you’re a multimillionaire attorney, money was but a mere object. The hallways were becoming more familiar as the weeks passed, and it was a bittersweet feeling when you remembered your time was almost up.
The door to Maria’s office was slightly ajar, but you still knocked and waited for her curt response for you to enter. She was sitting at her desk, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, glasses hanging low on her face as she appeared to be typing. Her office was one of your favorites, it was so open and had a comfortable atmosphere. She had a variety of plants placed throughout the room, and you figured she must have a green thumb, but her paralegal once quietly shared how Maria often committed one of the worst sins of gardening…overwatering. You awkwardly stood near the doorway, contemplating if you should come back when she appeared to be less busy.
As if she sensed your hesitation, she gently shut her laptop, and placed her glasses on the desk, looking up at you. “Sorry about that, Stephen needed a contract updated before tonight.” She motioned to an empty chair. “Come, sit.”
Taking a seat, you nervously folded your hands across your lap, setting your bag on the ground next to your feet. “So, you wanted to see me?”
“I did,” Maria confirmed, giving you a curious glance. “Your last day is tomorrow, right?”
You nodded, and felt a twinge of sadness at the thought. “My first day of classes is next Monday.”
Maria hummed, a thoughtful appearance on her face. “This is your last year of school?”
“Yes ma’am,” You replied, unsure of why she was asking you this.
“Tony and Stephen like to take out a select group of the summer associates every year for celebratory drinks,” Maria explained, and you swore you saw her roll her eyes ever so slightly before adding, “It’s mostly an excuse for Tony to brag more about the firm, but the drinks are free, and strong.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, you didn’t realize they were having another dinner. “Oh, well that sounds nice.”
Maria nodded before continuing talking. “They usually ask the senior attorneys to each invite one of the summer associates, and my pick was you.”
You felt your eyes widen, she picked you? Shaking your nerves aside, you gave her a wide smile. “Thank you so much, Ms. Hill. I’m honored.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Maria insisted, standing up and motioning for you to join her. “I know I’ve asked a lot of you this summer, but you rose to the challenge.”
Lightly blushing, you waited for her to grab her briefcase before you followed her out of the office. “I didn’t mind, I actually really enjoyed all of it.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Maria said, and she seemed sincere. “I believe Tony made the reservation for eight o’clock, but I’ll send you the details in the morning. Thank you again, I’ve appreciated your help.”
The elevator doors opened and you bid her farewell, as she went down the hallway to see if her wife was still working or was wrapping up. You could hardly believe it, sure you were sad that your summer was just about up, but you were one of the few associates selected for a special night out with all of the top attorneys and partners. A few of your classmates told you the partners would occasionally extend job offers to the top performing summer associates for when they graduated and passed The Bar, but you knew there was a slim chance of that happening to you.
Your last day flew by. You weren’t assigned much actual “work”, instead you spent most of the day chatting with the other summer associates and a few of the junior attorneys. Before you knew it, you were signing out for the last time, and handing in your key card and laptop on your way out. Maria had her paralegal forward you all the details, the bar they selected was yet another establishment you normally wouldn’t be able to afford, The Raines Law Room at The William Hotel. One of your roommates went there once with her parents, and gushed about how pretty and unique the space was, so you were excited to see it for yourself. The firm had allotted you one more Uber on their card, and you fully intended to use it.
The drive was surprisingly short, as traffic was relatively light for a Friday night. You sent your roommates a text reminding them that you’d be out late, before focusing your attention out the window. It had almost been three years since you moved to New York for law school, against your parents wishes, and you were still in awe of it. Yes, it was filthy, and there were rats and cockroaches galore, but every major city was dirty. New York was full of history and culture; there were thousands of places to explore, and millions of other people who were trying to find where they fit into this beautiful, messy story. You couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
You arrived at the bar just before eight, you had a habit of needing to be early for every social function you attended. The Raines Law Room was everything your roommate described, and even more so in person. It wasn’t the usual type of bar you’d go to, and it was broken up into multiple rooms with the actual bar in the center of it all. Many of the rooms were furnished with bookcases and cozy, expensive furniture that reminded you of a library. It didn’t take you long to find your group, as Tony had apparently rented one of the private rooms. There were only around twenty people in attendance, Maria wasn’t kidding when she told you it would be a small gathering. You recognized two of the other associates who had been invited, Kate Bishop and Yelena Belova, and you gave them a friendly wave.
Maria was in the corner of the room, sitting on one of the couches with her wife, Natasha Romanov. You’d only briefly encountered the redhead, as she did a lot of international travel for the firm. They were speaking with Tony Stark, the latter who appeared to be at the end of telling a very animated story. Maria noticed you lingering, and waved you over once Tony finished talking. You awkwardly made your way over, trying not to trip in the process; you’d always been terribly clumsy. There was an empty spot next to Maria, so you took a seat.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Maria warmly greeted you. “Do you remember my wife, Natasha?”
“Of course, it’s great to see you again,” You said to the woman sitting on the other side of Maria.
Natasha offered you a small smile, wrapping her arm around Maria’s shoulder. “Maria’s been telling me all summer how much of a help you’ve been, and believe me, she doesn’t praise just anyone.”
Maria nudged Natasha’s shoulder. “That’s not true, I just have high expectations, unlike someone.”
Natasha playfully rolled her eyes. “Right, of course dear.” She turned to Tony, who was scrolling through his phone. “Have you met Maria’s young mentee, Stark?”
He looked up at the mention of his name, and his eyes landed on you. “Oh right, I remember you. Maria’s been raving about you for the past few months, and Natasha’s right, that’s a pretty rare occurrence for her.”
Maria glared at him, clearly unamused. “Funny as always, Tony.”
Sticking out his hand, you took it and gave it a firm shake. “Thank you so much for the opportunity this summer, Mr. Stark. I’ve learned so much.”
Tony waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t mention it. Have you met my other platonic, legal half? He’s probably lurking around here somewhere.”
“Most likely avoiding you,” Natasha quipped to Tony, her eyes scanning the room. “Looks like he’s over by my sister.”
Her sister? You turned your head to look around the room, until you saw Stephen lightly conversing with Yelena. You didn’t realize she was Natasha’s sister, and Natasha seemed to note your confusion.
“Yelena doesn’t like people to know we’re related,” Natasha explained, her tone more gentle as her eyes were locked on her sister. “She thinks people will say she only got the position because I work here.”
“Well she’s not entirely wrong,” Tony offered, ignoring the glare Natasha gave him, before wildly waving his arms to get Stephen’s attention. It didn’t take long for Stephen to notice, and you watched him frown.
“Did you need something, Tony?” Stephen questioned, annoyance clear by his tone.
“Well you keep lecturing me on not offering the summer associates jobs without you being present,” Tony pointed out, “God forbid I have any fun.”
“I only told you that because you once tried to convince half of them they could only have the job if they signed a contract saying they could only refer to you as their Overlord,” Stephen pointed out, and Natasha briefly snickered before Maria shot her a disapproving look.
“It was a joke!” Tony exclaimed, pointing at you. “Back me up here, if I told you that, you would know I was joking, right?”
“Um…” You trailed off, your brain replaying what he had just said to Stephen about jobs. “I’d probably have to read the contract first.”
Tony sighed, “The world isn’t what it used to be. Fine then, Strange, you’re up.”
Stephen sat down next to Tony, and just like the latter did, he stuck his hand out for you to shake. “It’s nice to formally meet you. Maria’s kept us up to date on all the work you’ve been completing. How have you enjoyed your summer at the firm?”
“It’s been the most wonderful opportunity,” You raved, wondering if this conversation was heading where you desperately hoped it was. “I’m so grateful for everything I’ve learned.”
Stephen nodded, “We’re always happy to see our summer associates take the opportunity to use all of the resources we have available. Now, at the end of every summer, we like to ask our senior attorneys if they would like to refer anyone for a job. Maria, as well as a handful of others, all recommended you.”
Your brain short circuited, not quite believing what you were hearing. “You’re offering me a job?”
“We’d like to invite you to join the firm as a junior associate once you’ve graduated and passed The Bar,” Stephen continued, and you felt faint. “It’s a written offer that we can send to you on Monday morning.”
“That you’ll have one of the paralegals email out on Monday morning,” Tony corrected him before looking back to you. “What do you say? Do you want to join the greatest firm in the city? The salary is competitive, of course. Full benefits and all.”
Natasha snickered again, only this time Maria didn’t try to stop her, and you remembered how Maria mentioned Tony liked to take this time to brag. There were so many emotions swirling around in your head, but you were mostly in shock.
Stephen seemed to notice you were overwhelmed. “You can take the weekend to think it over, and take a look at the offer on Monday. I’m sure this is a lot to take in all at once.”
You nodded, grateful for that. “Thank you so much, Mr. Strange, Mr. Stark. I’m so thankful for the opportunity.”
“We’ll talk on Monday,” Tony reiterated, standing up, and practically dragged Stephen with him. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you so much,” You acknowledged Maria, who had been quietly conversing with Natasha. “I honestly can’t believe this is really happening.”
“You deserve it,” Maria insisted, relaxing ever so slightly against Natasha. “Congratulations, and I hope we’ll be working together again next summer.”
“You’re getting soft in your old age,” Natasha lightly teased her wife, giving you a wink. “Congratulations, and good luck on your final year of school.”
You thanked them both for a final time, before letting them have some privacy. There were still so many thoughts rushing through your brain, and the room was so bright and so loud, you needed to clear your head. As you started walking out of the room, you entered the main bar and decided that you didn’t need to clear your head, you needed a drink. The bar was fairly quiet, with a few patrons scattered throughout the room. You made your way to an empty stool, and waited for the bartender to finish making a drink before you ordered a vodka tonic.
There was hardly anyone else sitting at the bar, except for a woman a few stools down from you. She had dark brown hair, tucked behind her ears, and she was sipping on a glass of some variety of red wine. From a quick glance, you could see she was reading something on her phone, and you watched the frown lines on her forehead deepen every so often as she continued to scroll. The bartender came back with your drink, and you thanked him before taking a small sip.
“Come here often?” An unfamiliar voice asked, and you curiously turned your head to find the woman a few stools down was now staring at you.
“I beg your pardon?” You replied in confusion, wondering if she was talking to you.
The woman arched an eyebrow at you, and you felt your cheeks flush under her heated gaze. She stayed in her seat, but her eyes remained locked on yours. “Some people would call that a pick up line, but not you apparently.”
“Do you often hit on strangers in a bar?” You questioned, watching her take a sip of her wine.
“Well if you came and sat next to me, you wouldn’t be much of a stranger,” The woman countered, and patted the bar stool next to her.
This was crazy, you reasoned with yourself. This woman could be a lunatic, or a serial killer. But she was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher, and her eyes were so blue that you could feel yourself slowly getting lost in them. Before you fully realized what you were doing, you scooted over until you were sitting next to her. Her red lips turned up in a smirk, and she shut her phone off, placing it in her bag. There was something so intriguing about her, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
“So what brings a pretty little thing like yourself here on a Friday night?” She asked curiously, her eyes hungrily searching yours, and you could feel your cheeks begin to darken at her words. You weren’t used to anyone looking at you the way she was.
“Um, I’m here for a work event,” You said quietly, unsure of how much information you were willing to share with a stranger. “An internship event, rather. What about you?”
The woman nodded, taking another sip of wine. “Mmm, this and that. I’m staying at The William for a few nights while my place gets redecorated,” There was a sparkling glint in her eyes as she added, “And there’s a rather spectacular view of the city from my room.”
The color deepened in your cheeks, and you chose to take a rather large sip of your drink. “Oh, that’s…interesting.”
“Isn’t it though,” The woman agreed, and you watched her fingers lightly twirl around the glass in her hand. “I never got your name, darling.”
“You didn’t ask,” You pointed out, and she smirked at you.
“Feisty thing, aren’t you?” She guessed, gracefully scooting her stool closer to yours, looking at you expectantly.
There was something so addictive about the way she was staring at you, and it made you lower your guard as you told her your name. She let out another low hum, and repeated it back to you, saying it nice and slowly, drawing out each syllable. At this point, she was close enough that you could smell her perfume. The rich notes of vanilla and lavender swirled together through your senses, and you felt yourself becoming more and more distracted. Taking another large sip of your drink, you realized it was nearly empty. The woman also seemed to notice, as she waved the bartender over.
“What are you drinking, dear?” She asked, her voice sweet like honey.
“A vodka tonic,” You replied, and she slid your empty glass towards the bartender.
“Another one of those, please, as well as a Pinot Noir. Put her drinks on my tab,” She instructed the bartender, ignoring your protest that you could pay for your own drinks.
“Don’t be silly,” She gently chided you, one of her hands moving up to brush your hair out of your face. “You have gorgeous eyes, has anyone ever told you that?”
Every compliment was leaving you more flustered than the last, and you had no idea how she was having this strong of an effect on you. It was the alcohol, your brain reasoned, that had to be it. “No, not really,” You replied, your voice growing more timid.
The woman let out a disapproving tsk, her fingers lingering on your face before slowly pulling away. “Disappointing, but not surprising.”
The bartender returned at that moment with your drinks, and you mumbled a quiet thank you, hoping this would give you some liquid courage. You realized at that moment she never told you her name.
Clearing your throat, you did your best not to sound as intimated as you were. She was this beautiful, sort of menacing, and slightly strange woman. You didn’t want to humiliate yourself. “You know, for someone who hounded me for my name, it’s a little odd you never told me yours.”
The woman smirked again, and you thought you saw her lick her lips. “You never asked, dear,” she pointed out, and her fingers reached out to lightly brush yours. “I’m Agnes.”
Her touch, light as it was, felt like a shock of electricity coursing through your system. You kept waiting for her to let go of your hand, but instead she gently turned it so your palm was visible, and began tracing patterns on it as she sipped her wine.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agnes,” You said, your courage slowly disappearing, and you weren’t sure what it was that you wanted from her, you just knew you didn’t want her to stop touching you.
Agnes laughed, the rich sound ringing deliciously in your ears. “Believe me, honey, the pleasure is all mine.”
The hand stroking your palm began to make its way up your arm, and you were embarrassed by the goosebumps you felt by having her hands on you. Agnes also seemed to notice this reaction, and she was looking as if she wanted to eat you alive. She leaned in closer to you, her breath hot on your ear as she whispered, “I don’t normally do this, but I’d love to continue this discussion in my hotel room. Would you care to join me?”
It would seem tonight was just full of surprises. Her face was so close to yours, and your brain was still actively short circuiting. You’d barely spent any time with this woman, and you only knew her first name, but it didn’t matter. It was clear what this was, a one night stand. This didn’t have to mean anything, and you were riding a high from your job offer; you didn’t want it to mean anything. All you knew was that her breath was hot in your ear, and her fingers were lightly gripping your arm, and you wanted more. No, you needed more. You needed her.
Fearing you wouldn’t be able to produce any actual words, you wordlessly nodded in agreement. Agnes proceeded to close out her tab, and you made a quick note of the Black AmEx card the bartender returned to her. She guided you out of the room, her hand grazing your lower back. You felt like you were floating, and the only thing grounding you to reality was the feel of her fingers stroking your back, slowly moving lower with every step you took.
Upon reaching the elevators, Agnes waited for you to enter before following, and pressed the button for her floor. As soon as the doors closed, it was as if a switch went off. Her hands were all over you, and within a moment you were against the wall of the elevator. While her right hand stayed pressed against your back, moving down to grab at your ass, her left moved up to gently cup your cheek, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes began to darken with arousal, and before you could even process what was happening she kissed you.
You’d been kissed before, and you thought you knew how good it could be, but that was nothing compared to the feel of her lips against yours. She kissed you with fervor, like a woman starving and you were her salvation. Her lips were so soft and smooth against your own, it was addictive. As she lightly slapped your ass, bringing you impossibly closer to her, you let out a moan and she took that opportunity to slip her tongue between your lips. She tasted faintly of Pinot Noir, and you eagerly allowed her to dominate your mouth. Her hips jutted against yours, creating just enough friction for you to imagine how much better it would feel to have more.
The elevator dinged, signaling you were at her floor, and she reluctantly broke your kiss. You let out a quiet whine and Agnes chuckled, leaning in to whisper, “Patience, honey. My room is right down the hallway.”
She nearly had to drag you along, as your legs were starting to shake, and the walk to her room seemed endless. When you finally reached it, she hurriedly tapped her keycard to unlock the door. Yanking you inside, she slammed your back against the door, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Wasting no time, she began messing with the clasp of your dress, and as it became undone she helped you out of it, leaving you in your bra and panties. The older woman let out a low growl, and pulled you flush against her. Moving you towards the bed, she nearly tore your bra and panties off in the process, before laying you flat on your back.
She straddled your hips, and when you attempted to move your hands up to her waist she swatted them back down. “Be a good girl and behave,” Agnes warned lightly. “I’d hate to have to restrain you.”
You couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips at that threat. Agnes smirked again, taking her shirt off and tossing it across the room, revealing a lacy dark purple bra. She leaned down and kissed you again, lightly biting your lower lip, causing you to groan into her mouth. It felt like she was all around you, but you needed more. You always prided yourself on your patience, but you were quickly losing it. Her lips left yours to trail down your jaw and the side of your neck, stopping near your collarbone. She began to leave hot, wet kisses along it, before biting down on the flesh at the base of your neck and sucking.
“Fuck,” You cried out at the sensation, and you heard her let out a low hum in response, keeping up her ministrations.
She left dozens of marks on you, and you were too lost in the haze of how good she felt to remember you were starting classes in two days. Her hands were relentless, moving all over your body. As her lips began to alternate attention between your breasts, her right hand moved between your thighs, and you both moaned as she felt how wet you were.
“Is all this for me, baby?” She murmured, raising her head up to yours, using two fingers to lightly tease your aching pussy. “What a pretty girl, dripping for me.”
Moaning, you arched your hips up, she was so close and you needed her fingers inside, filling you. “Please, Agnes.”
Letting out a low tutting noise, she pulled her fingers back. You whined, louder this time, and her responding grin sent a shiver down your spine. “Please what, honey? Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me,” You begged, desperate to feel her fingers on you again. “Please, fuck me.”
“Good girl,” Agnes praised you, roughly thrusting two fingers inside you, going deeper than you normally could on your own.
Her fingers were so long, and so good, as she set a fast pace, twisting and hitting all of the sweet spots in you. You could barely breathe, all you could focus on was how good it felt to have her fucking you. Her thumb rubbed gentle circles on your clit, and the added stimulation made you cry out. You were soaked, the movement of her fingers taking you created an obscenely filthy sound that filled the room. It didn’t take long until you felt a familiar unraveling, signaling you were close to orgasming.
“Such a good little whore, you’re taking me so well,” Agnes cooed and you felt yourself clench at her words. “Do you like this? Do you like having me fuck your tight little cunt?”
“Oh my fucking-” You cried out, but were cut off as she chose that moment to add a third finger, expertly curling them and bringing you that much closer to your release.
“That’s it, slut,” Agnes growled, fucking you even harder. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good around my fingers.”
“Agnes, please,” You whined, needing to feel yourself come undone. “Please I need…”
Agnes smirked, not relenting in her efforts, and began to leave kisses around the edge of your mouth. “What do you need, baby? Use your words for me.”
“Need to come, please. I need to come,” You babbled, as she took you higher and higher with every thrust of her fingers, and your words caused the older woman to groan.
“Come on my fingers, sweetheart,” Agnes ordered, and you felt yourself lose focus as the pleasure overcame you.
It was mind numbingly good, and you barely recognized the scream that left your throat. All you could feel were her fingers inside you, gently coaxing you through your orgasm. Her fingers slowly stilled, and you felt yourself pulse around them as her thumb gently eased off your clit. Pressing a sweet, slow kiss against your lips, Agnes pulled her fingers out, causing you to whine at how empty you felt.
“You took me so well,” Agnes purred, and you felt yourself drip even more at her words. “Such a slutty little pussy, you can’t even form complete sentences when I’m fucking you.”
You groaned, the filth spewing out of her mouth was a major turn on for you. “It’s not my fault you’re turning my brain into mush.”
Agnes fake pouted at you. “Oh, poor baby,” She mocked, pressing her hips against yours. “It’s a good thing you don’t need to use that little brain while I’m fucking you.”
“Want to taste you,” You moaned out, the idea just popping into your head. “Please.”
“Oh? You want to eat me out, baby?” Agnes questioned, her eyes growing darker yet still from arousal. “Do you want me to ride that pretty little face?”
“Fuck yes,” You begged, causing Agnes to chuckle before taking off her pants and panties, and moving you closer to the headboard before she straddled your face.
You could smell her; the scent was musky and sweet and you were salivating, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. Agnes rested one hand on the headboard and the other in your hair, slowly lowering herself onto your mouth. You wasted no time, licking and sucking, tasting her arousal. The guttural moan she let out spurred you on, eager to please her. She tasted so fucking good, and your tongue lapped up as much of her as you could. Her fingers tightened in your hair as she began to rock against your face, and you moaned against her as she roughly tugged.
“Fuck, you’re such a good girl, baby,” Agnes panted as she moved her hips faster. “You’re doing so well. Such a good job. Suck on my clit.”
Ever hoping to please her, you switched to swirling your tongue around her clit before sucking, hard. The moan she let out, louder than before, was entrancing. Her fingers kept your head in place as she rode your face, and you could sense her getting closer to the edge. Your tongue teased her entrance, slowly pushing inside and Agnes let out a loud hiss, encouraging you to go deeper.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck,” Agnes began to grind down, getting closer with every thrust of your tongue. “Such a sweet fucking mouth. Do you want me to come all over that pretty face?”
Nodding against her, you sucked and licked, thoroughly enjoying being used by her. It wasn’t long before she began to shudder, hips thrusting even harder against your face as she let herself go. She tugged on your head as she lost herself in the throes of pleasure, and you never saw something quite so beautiful. Her eyes were closed, head back as she let out several loud grunts, the sound causing you to twitch. You moaned at the taste of her cum, eager to get as much as you could. Her hips slowly stopped, and she gave herself a moment before lifting herself off of you, collapsing on the bed. She immediately pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around you. Her body was flush against yours, and you relished at the feeling of her tits pressed against your back. She was so soft, and so warm; every part of her felt like heaven to you.
She began to nuzzle your neck, pressing gentle kisses against your skin. “Fuck that was so good. Thank you, honey.”
“It was my pleasure,” You drawled out, growing more tired with every word you spoke, slowly feeling yourself drift off.
Agnes murmured something to you, but you were too far gone to hear what she said. The last thing you remembered was the feel of her body curled up around you as you finally passed out from exhaustion. You weren’t sure how long you slept, for when you finally woke up the room was filled with bright sunlight, causing you to wince. It didn’t take you long to realize you were alone, and the already large bed felt ten sizes too big. A part of you wondered if Agnes was in the bathroom, but when you eventually made it out of bed you realized she was gone. The room was completely empty, save for you and your clothes from last night.
You weren’t entirely sure what you had expected, it was a one night stand after all. But, you had assumed she would at least still be there in the morning when you woke up. Shaking those thoughts aside, you rushed to pick up your clothes and get dressed. As you were putting on your clothes, you noticed a small folded up note with your name on it on the bedside table. You slipped your heels back on before grabbing it, and was slightly disappointed to see how short it was.
Thanks again for a great night. -A
Well, at least she left you something. You crumpled the note and stuck it in your purse, leaving the room without a second thought. The next two days were spent in a daze, trying to get everything ready for the start of classes. Your roommates were thrilled to hear about your job offer, and even more intrigued to hear of your night out with an older woman. You kept the details to a minimum, as you always kept those things more private, but they enjoyed it nonetheless. By the time Sunday night rolled around you were absolutely spent. You had just finished marking up your planner for the next few weeks with your class schedule, and double checked the time for your first class as you set your alarm for bed before finally drifting to sleep.
Unfortunately, the exhaustion from the last few days made you sleep through your alarms, which almost never happened. But, after hearing your alarms go off one after another, one of your roommates came to check on you, the knocking on your door sent you shooting out of bed. You rushed through the apartment, throwing your laptop and books in your bag. As you were getting dressed, your eyes landed on the hickeys all over your neck, and you groaned. Great. Despite it still being summer, and extremely hot in the city, you wore a lightweight turtleneck. The lecture halls and library were usually freezing, so this wouldn’t seem too out of place to anyone.
Luckily your apartment was only a few blocks away from campus, and it never took you more than ten minutes to get there. You kept obsessively checking your watch, hoping to make it to your first class in time. Finally, you reached the correct building, and pulled up the class schedule on your phone to check which room you were in. Whipping around the corner, you spotted the door at the far end of the hallway. With one minute to go, you passed other students and professors, not a thought in your mind besides making it through those doors. Reaching the lecture hall, you opened the doors and went inside.The hall was relatively full, and as you searched for an empty seat you heard your professor begin to speak.
“Welcome to Ethics and Professional Responsibility in Criminal Practice.”
Wait a second, you knew that voice. How did you know that voice? You looked up, finding the last person you ever expected to run into, and you almost fell out of your chair. Standing there on the floor of the lecture hall was a strikingly familiar woman. It was the same woman from the other night, Agnes. Her messy dark brown hair was pulled back into an updo, and she wore an expensive looking black pantsuit. She was pulling up a slideshow on the laptop, so her back was turned, but it was her. You knew it was her. The strange thing was you didn’t remember reading her first name on the syllabus that had been sent out a few weeks prior.
After she finished projecting the slideshow, she turned her focus to the crowded lecture hall. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Agatha Harkness,” Her eyes scanned the room, until they eventually landed on you, and you watched her freeze, before quickly regaining her composure. “And I’ll be your professor for the semester.”
Fuck.
140 notes · View notes
affixjoy · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Lawyer AU
124 notes · View notes
mordmortis · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
her ass is NOT listening
71 notes · View notes
rmd-writes · 6 months
Note
hello rmd!! as i was rereading what like it's hard for the nth time, i just realized that they never said i love yous in real time (does that make sense???) or there was never a scene where they said their first i love yous because it was 12 mos later when it was on writing (which is perfect) so i wanted to ask if you have any ideas or scenarios or hcs in which they said if first??? like idk from your drafts or something?? obvs cannot get enough of this au!!!
hi nonnie! I saw this ask on the weekend, didn't have time to answer it and then forgot until just now - sorry!
I'm so glad you like this story, it really means so much to me that you've reread it at all, let alone more than once! 💖💖 What you said does make sense and when I was writing it, I wrestled with Alex and Henry not saying their first "I love you" on screen so to speak because I wanted to give them that moment, but I also needed to move the story forward!
I don't have drafts to share because I never actually wrote the scene but I have thought about it and I think that they would have both known that they were in love for some time before they actually say it.
A couple of months after the baseball game, Alex is in the middle of trial prep and working impossibly long hours (more so than usual). Henry hasn't seen him for over a week beyond Alex crawling into his bed at midnight and passing out with his chest pressed to Henry's back, then rolling out of bed again far too early in the morning to go to work. So, in a bid to actually see his boyfriend while he's awake, Henry stops by Alex's office one night with dinner.
Alex is running on more caffeine than is advisable (his usual intake is inadvisable, he's exceeded that. Brianna has refused to bring him more coffee so Alex has resorted to getting the junior staff to do it for him instead, to much disapproval from Bri). When Henry texts him to say he's downstairs with dinner at 8pm Alex realises that he hasn't eaten at all that day except for a shitty muffin that Bri stole from a conference room and just about forced down his throat at 2pm because she was sick of Alex being hangry. He races down to the lobby to see Henry and almost knocks him over because he hugs him so hard. He takes a second just to rest his head on Henry's shoulder and inhale his scent because he fucking misses his boyfriend.
Regretfully, Alex doesn't have time to sit and eat with Henry, if he's going to have any chance of making it home (no, he's not going to think about the fact that he just thought of Henry's apartment as 'home', it's just an expression, don't fucking mention it) while Henry is still awake.
"Fuck, I love you for this," Alex says, kissing Henry lightly on the lips before taking the take out container that Henry offers him and walking away.
He doesn't clock what he's said until he's halfway back to the elevator. He turns around slowly when it hits him and Henry is still standing there, smiling.
Alex walks back to Henry. "So, I said what I said," he says, almost defiantly.
"You did," Henry replies, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"And I fucking meant it." Alex takes a breath. "I love you."
Henry's smile lights up the lobby, hideous fluorescent lights be damned.
"I love you too."
They kiss for far longer and with more passion than is advisable in Alex's workplace but neither of them care.
"Go finish your work," Henry murmurs against Alex's lips.
(Alex makes it back to Henry's apartment at 10.30pm that evening. He tells Henry he loves him with his whole body, writing it into his skin with his words, the press of his lips and the cut of his teeth. Henry says it back over and over and over again, as he presses Alex into the mattress, with the featherlight touch of his fingers and the roll of his hips and his breath warm against Alex's neck as he speaks.)
don't estop me now series (aka rwrb lawyer au - I'm begging you to please read them in the order I've published them in for maximum enjoyment)
76 notes · View notes
klanced · 7 months
Text
78 notes · View notes
yutaleks · 1 month
Note
Ahhhh I have such a soft spot for mailroom employee yuuta. You kiss him against the copy machine but he is sooo scared of getting caught and getting in trouble but you feel sooo good all pressed up against him and he is so flustered and oh so hard 🫠🫠
I was thinking about him earlier , that post I made about white day...
Coming to find him in the mailroom late in the morning, after he's done all his rounds and dropped off people's parcels. Lucky for him you weren't around when he stumbled his way to your desk, perfectly wrapped gift in hand. He left it on your desk atop a letter that came for you, and the cute little package was the first thing you saw when you sat down at your desk later that morning. It was addressed to you, the sender signing off with just a simple heart. But who else would it be if not him?
When you walk into the small room you see him fiddling with the copy machine—poor guy's always fighting for his life against that thing. He's so busy trying to press the right button that he doesn't notice you sliding in behind him.
You smile up at his flustered face. "Hey Yuuta."
"Hey—"
Before he can even say your name, you cut him off with a kiss. His eyes grow wide at the gesture, despite how yours flutter shut. It is nowhere near the first time you've kissed him in the office, but it's still not good for his heart. You feel his fingers wrap around your wrists, gently pushing you away.
"What wrong?" you ask him when you pull away.
"I-It's just," his face starts to warm up, visibly pink at the ears. "What if we get caught,"
"Do you have to ask this every single time," you giggle, pressing yourself closer to him. "It's eleven, you know everyone's in meetings and stuff right now..."
"But,"
"Don't you wanna kiss me?" you pout. Your body's so close now that Yuuta has to bend his back away from you, practically flopping his upper half over the copy machine. "I'm grateful for the gift you got me, Yuuta."
He smiles instantly. "Did you like it?"
Your fingers fiddle with the end of his navy blue tie. It feels tighter on his throat as nervous sweat drips down his nape. "Of course I did." Yuuta looks instantly relieved. "It was not too sweet, but sweet enough. Can you taste it?'
"Um.. no,"
“One more then,”
You tug him forward by his tie, and when your lips collide in the middle he hums contently against you. He still feels so rigid, probably from being paranoid over getting caught. But you loosen him up with a part of your lips; he responds in kind, letting you slip your tongue in to taste every surface of his mouth. He feels lightheaded when you start to suck on his tongue, like he'll keel over any second now if he wasn't being propped up by the copy machine. When he feels your tongue slide over his, he convinces himself he can taste the frosting, the sweetness of the treat he made you.
And then, you moan, low and hushed but it’s so crystal clear to his ears. He gasps when you pull back a little, just enough to pinch his lower lip between your teeth. He manages to open his eyes just enough to catch the lust in yours. How can you be so nonchalant about doing this in the office? He's amazed every single time.
"We shouldn't..." he mumbles out, stopping to wet his lips.
"mmhm," you hum, playfully pressing your thigh to the crease in his pants between his legs. "You think if we kiss some more you'll come in your pants again?" You ask him, low enough for just him to hear.
"That was one time," he pouts petulantly, wishing he wasn't feeling so exposed. At least last time it was in the office library, between the stacks and away from prying eyes. But here? Anyone could walk in at any time and see you both in such a compromising position…
"It was really cute, Okkotsu."
You press your thigh harder against his crotch, and he swallows a moan. He is quite hard, you surmise—even with the fabric of his pants in the way. He all but yelps when you sneak a hand between you, rubbing him through his slacks.
“Can you do it again for me?” You ask him, toying with his belt loop.
He reluctantly tears his eyes off of you, looking side to side, but you reel him back in with another tug on his tie. He acquiesces to your push against his mouth, parting his lips for you again. He reaches behind him to brace himself, placing his weight on the machine behind him. But just as he does so, the copy machine audibly clicks and emits a loud BEEP, stirring to life. As you both peel apart and look at each other, flustered, the machine begins to spit out page after page.
“Fixed it,” Yuuta chuckles, the copies he had been trying to make finally coming out the side tray of the copier. You can’t help but laugh.
“Glad to be of service.”
There’s a table behind you, piles and piles of boxes, papers, envelopes, and other mail-related items haphazardly stacked like a pile of Jenga blocks. You lean against it slightly, looking at Yuuta standing across from you. The look he’s giving you now, face still blotched red and tie askew, is nothing short of a man whipped… your eyes tilt down to his slacks, a tent in them still visible. Playfully you lift a foot up, to press against it.
Yuuta stops you, wrapping his hands around your ankle. He parts his lips to say something, but before he can, one of your coworkers, a bright-eyed, pink haired junior by the name of Yuuji Itadori, comes barreling into the mail room.
“Okkotsu!”
Instantly you drop your foot and Yuuta turns to the machine, hiding his front from view. Yuuji stops and blinks. “Oh hi,” he says to you, tilting his head. “Picking up mail?”
“Yeah, something like that,” you nod, playing it off easily. Yuuta is much worse for wear, broiled in a staring contest with the touchpad on the copy machine.
“Heard the copy machine was broken,” Yuuji turns to Yuuta. “Came to take a look,”
“Oh! It’s fixed now,” Yuuta says, leaning over the machine in a way that is completely unnatural and absolutely would cause anyone to ask questions. Though luckily it’s Yuuji—
“Oh okay. See you at lunch then,” Yuuji smiles and waves it off, not giving Yuuta’s precarious position a second glance. Yuuji gives you a polite wave and leaves the room, probably dealing with other brands of chaos (as there always is in the mornings) and once you’re both alone again, you’re overcome by a fit of laughter.
“You okay Yuuta?” You ask between giggles, wiping at the corner of your eyes.
“No, God I thought I was going to have a heart attack,”
“Relax…” you coo, showing him a cheeky smile.
“I told you we’d get caught, don’t be so—”
“Library then?”
Yuuta can’t possibly wrap his mind around how easily you play this all off. Still hugging the copy machine, he replies, “I can’t even walk there without… you know…”
“Hmm… executive bathroom then?”
“E-executive bathroom… doesn’t that need a key?” He turns his head to look at you, confused.
And you’re standing there with a smug smile, a key loop dangling from your fingertip.
“Why didn’t you say that earlier!”
“This is more fun.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, an eager hand wrapping around your wrist, tugging you towards the door (and presumably down the hall, to where the executive bathroom is), where you can thankfully show him your appreciation for his gift to you… in private ❤️
28 notes · View notes
tinyarmedtrex · 16 days
Text
Wip Weds
Omg who I am, actually posting my Wip weds ON a weds? Yea I know!
Thanks for the tags @firenati0n and @wordsofhoneydew
Here's a snippet from chapter 2 of my heartstopper enemies to lovers AU (You can read Chap 1 here!)
Dismissed
Still Ignoring me?
Because I told you the truth?
That's pretty fucking lame Charlie.
The texts ranged from the last two weeks, which was how long he had been ignoring Nick. Charlie knew he should probably just block the man but hadn't quite been able to convince himself to do it. The only reason he was looking at them now was because a new one had come in.
Dismissed
I'm outside. If you don't come out and talk to me I'm coming in, making a scene and telling everyone it's your baby. 
Charlie glared at the text. He was pretty sure that Nick wouldn't do that.
Right?
He got his coat.
Tagging @gayrootvegetable @yojfull @asyouleft @thoughtthedormouse @kaalee @onthewaytosomewhere
21 notes · View notes
edupunkn00b · 5 months
Text
All Due Care and Caution
Tumblr media
Photo by Taylor Fiehl on Unsplash
Virgil and Janus began their legal careers together, fighting on the side of justice.
Now they're on opposite sides of the court room.
WC: 2195 - Rated: G - CW: non-graphic mentions of a car crash, politics, divorce, swearing Written for @tsspromptmonth's Rare Gifts Event. ---
“Virgil Knight for the plaintiff, Your Honor, and—”
The gallery doors slammed open, jolting Virgil in his spot next to his client. “It’s alright, Thomas,” he whispered, ghosting a hand over the man’s uninjured shoulder. The sharp clack of heeled loafers was deafening in the otherwise hushed courtroom and he cast a quick glance back to see if the defendant’s attorney had finally deigned to show his face.
“Fuck,” he muttered, even quieter this time. The slimeball who’d plowed into his client with a four-ton Hummer was being defended by something even slimier.
“Your Honor, Janus Knight, defense,” he purred with a little bow of his head, the supposed show of deference somehow condescending. Only Jay could manage shit like that. “I wish to extend my apologies to the Court,” he continued in a saccharine sweet voice that made Virgil wish he could take a bleach bath. To think he’d ever let that man—
“This case was reassigned to me only moments ago when the previous attorney, well…” Janus made a broad gesture toward the reporters in the back row. “We all have Twitter, don’t we?”
Of course Jay worked for the same firm as Sadow.
“Is that good or bad?” Thomas whispered as the gallery buzzed with similarly murmured questions. It wasn’t every day an attorney was removed from civil court in handcuffs, but it had been the third time for that particular politician’s case. Even those who avoided the news had seen it.
Virgil shook his head, eyes locked on the judge. She seemed to be wondering the same. “And I suppose you are here to motion the court for a continuance in order to confer with your new client?”
“Oh, on the contrary.” With a sleight of hand better suited to a street magician, a sheaf of bluebacks appeared in Jay’s hand. “I am prepared to present my motion to dismiss the case for failure to state a claim—”
“Your Honor,” Virgil interrupted. “Perhaps the defendant does require some time to review the three-hundred and ninety-two exhibits establishing my client’s injuries and the video of the incident taken from four different vantage points.”
He felt more than saw Jay’s eyes finally turn to him, bright sparks of gold boring into his skull. 
“Counsel, approach the bench.” 
Jay glided forward and Virgil followed, quickly overtaking him with his longer and faster stride. He’d be damned if he was going to follow Jay anywhere.
~
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Janus was going to slaughter Sadow. Along with whoever else at the firm who thought it would be simply hilarious to foist this case onto him.
For the past year, it had been an open secret in the surprisingly close-knit community of civil attorneys that he and Vee had divorced—quite in-amicably. Each of the circuit’s judge’s clerks had gone out of their way to ensure their cases were never scheduled on the same day. And Janus’ firm had been careful not to assign him cases in which the Avenging Angel himself represented the plaintiff.
It seemed that courtesy had ended.
Flexing his fingers to hide their tremor, he managed to keep his voice steady and his eyes away from his ex-husband while he announced his motion to dismiss. It was unlikely to prevail on its merits, but if delivered with enough panache and confidence, he could sow the seeds of doubt in the judge’s—and the jury’s—minds.
To be honest, he hadn’t had time to review the evidence in this case, and he bit back an epithet at his firm’s attorney-in-charge.
“Your hubby’s losing his touch.” Chad hadn’t even looked up from his computer when Janus had protested the assignment. “Ex, whatever. The evidence is shabby. He’s turning into an ambulance chaser.” He barked out a laugh. “You must’ve really bled him dry in the divorce.”
In truth, he hadn’t contested Vee’s attorney’s opening offer and had let him keep everything but Janus’ clothes. The custom suits wouldn’t’ve fit his lanky frame anyway. And the suits were really all that mattered for Janus to keep up his appearance. No-one needed to know that, after alimony, he couldn’t afford much more than a shoebox studio downtown and, when he wasn't entertaining clients on the firm's expense account, survived on beans and rice most nights.
He smoothed down his silk waistcoat and inhaled slowly before approaching the judge. Vee moved more quickly than he did, always faster, always in a hurry. He would only slow down under Janus’ lead, with gentle reminders to rest, to care for himself at least as much as he cared for his clients. To recharge. To sleep. The case would be there in the morning.
The soft days of Vee following his lead, though, were long gone. Glancing back at the defendant’s table where his client sat twirling the keys to her near-murderous Hummer, Janus really couldn’t blame him.
~
“Your honor—” Virgil began, but the judge raised a hand to cut him off, then shoved aside Jay’s proffered motions. Her clerk silently collected the stack and began to peruse them.
“No, you will both listen first. Mr. Knight,” she turned to Jay. “Your client pled guilty to reckless endangerment and failure to operate a vehicle with all due care and caution. Are you disputing those findings?”
“Of course not, Your Honor.” The judge might have missed the tic in Jay’s jaw, but Virgil didn’t. He really got hosed with this case, didn’t he?
“Then why are you wasting the Court’s time with a motion to dismiss? Have you actually reviewed the evidence?”
“No, Your Honor,” he admitted, voice steady and chin held high. To the outside world, Jay looked just as confident as ever. But his right foot pointed toe-in and his thumb rubbed the inside of his ring finger. “With the Court’s permission, I would like to retract the motion.”
“Granted. Mr. Knight,” she said before turning to Virgil. “You were saying?”
“Not confusing at all,” Jay muttered just under his breath. “You really had to keep my name?”
“We both chose Knight," Virgil snapped, turning to face him. Was Jay… smiling? With effort, Virgil returned his full attention to the judge. “My client is ready to proceed, Your Honor.”
“Very well,” she nodded. “Let’s begin.”
“Thank you, your Honor.” Virgil returned to his client’s side, steadfastly avoiding Jay’s gaze. He would not allow his ex to pull those pouty little faces and distract him. He hadn't forced Jay to turn his back on everything they'd studied and struggled and fought for. If Jay had to now lie in the bed he’d made with that evil little defense firm, then so be it.
Yes, so be it, he nodded to himself even as his heart clenched at the flash of yellow in Jay’s palm. If he’d brought out a fidget in court, he was only a few steps from a full-on panic attack.
Jay’s first case had ended in a mistrial with prejudice. He’d fled the courtroom, leaving Virgil to explain to his sobbing client that her attacker would walk free. After searching each floor, Virgil had finally found him in a broken bathroom stall, hyperventilating and clawing at his own hair. It hadn't been the first time he’d seen his outwardly suave new husband break down.
But it had been the last.
“I can’t fail another client like that, Vee,” he’d whispered after Virgil had helped him through one of his own breathing exercises. “The stakes are just too high.”
He’d begun job searching shortly after his next case, jumping from office to office before finally joining his uncle’s boutique defense firm. They'd started small, but eventually made name when they began to pick up famous clients, nepo kid DUIs, movie stars fighting murder charges. Politicians accused of bribery—or far worse.
Neither had known it at the time, but it was the beginning of the death of their relationship. Even when they didn’t find themselves on opposing sides of the courtroom, neither Virgil nor Jay was good at compartmentalizing their work. Wars over briefs soon turned their bedroom into a battlefield.
The writing was on the wall. An assistant district attorney who worked pro bono on civil claims and a flashy—and pricey—private defense attorney were doomed. This was their first case together—together as combatants—since the divorce. If it meant finally being free from lingering worry for his ex, Virgil would happily drive the final nail into that coffin.
Shaking away the butter-smooth laughter in his head about mixed metaphors, he swallowed back the nervousness thrumming against his ribs. Finding that calm that now only came in court, Virgil addressed the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, today you will see and hear how Ms. Karen Dars ignored a flashing pedestrian signal then roared through that crosswalk, striking my client, Thomas Sanders. He suffered three fractures to his…
~
Vee’s opening statement was… flawless. It never failed. Vee would clam up and refuse to send back a meal, would mutely let a stranger steal his place in line. He was too anxious to call the doctor’s office and reschedule an appointment. But in court?
In court, Vee bloomed. He stood tall and proud and certain, the weight of his client’s future bolstering him against any attack. It was the first thing Janus had noticed all the way back in law school. It was the first thing that had made him fall in love.
And in the privacy of his own mind, Janus could admit at least to himself that he’d never really stopped.
His heart pounded in his chest, a syncopated, thudding staccato that threatened to drown out his client’s hissed whisper. He wished it had. “Why don’t you say something? He’s making me sound like some kind of villain!”
The judge shot her a warning glare but his client continued. “What am I paying you for? Am I supposed to just sit here and listen while he says all those awful things about me?” Big, crocodile tears welled in her eyes and Janus barely fought the impulse to roll his eyes.
“Yes, Ms. Dars,” he whispered close to her ear. “That’s exactly what we do during his opening statement.”
With a petulant huff, she sat back in her seat, arms crossed as Vee finished his argument. She remained nearly silent during his own opening statement. It wasn’t until the first paramedic took the stand that she raised her voice.
“How dare you!” she shouted from the defense table.
“Mr. Knight, control your client!”
Janus stood and pressed one hand firmly on her shoulder. “Ms. Dars, a contempt court charge will not—”
But she wouldn't stop. Pointing at the paramedic, she demanded, “Why do you think I gave you a tip? For good driving?”
Vee had prepared the witness well. The paramedic clamped his mouth shut and turned to Vee, waiting to be asked.
And Vee did not disappoint.
“Mr. Selnick, did the defendant attempt to bribe you while you were rendering aid to my client?”
Ms. Dars' voice rang out, interrupting any response he might have given. “Yeah, and the dumb fuck wouldn’t even take it!”
~
The courtroom exploded in a flurry of shouts and laughter. The tumult was short-lived, snuffed nearly as quickly as it’d begun by the judge’s gavel and Ms. Dars' first swearing at, then biting the bailiff as he ratcheted on her handcuffs. He took his time and summoned another bailiff to chain her waist and ankles.
“Oh, and you’re so fired!” she snarled at Janus through clenched teeth.
“You cannot fire me, Ms. Dars,” he replied, setting down his phone, a prickly squish fidget hidden in his other hand. “I just quit the firm.”
“Is that true?” Vee asked, nearer than Janus had expected him to be.
He looked up, anticipating a sneer but instead, Vee looked… worried? Janus swallowed and nodded once before packing in the files spread across the defendant’s table. “Yes,” he muttered, bracing himself. Vee could be vindictive and a bit of a bitch.
It was another thing he’d always appreciated. Until it had been turned toward him.
But Vee remained quiet, feet shuffling next to him. Janus kept his gaze low. He didn’t want to watch his former husband walk away from him one more time. His breath caught in his throat when, instead of leaving, Vee hugged him.
“I’m proud of you, Jay,” he whispered. The hug was over quickly, the heat from his always-warm hands evaporating into the climate-controlled air. “I—”
Janus looked up again and there were tears in Vee’s eyes. “Why don’t you…" He smiled. "Why don't you swing by the house tonight? We can talk about job openings down at the DA’s office.” When Janus remained silent, Vee scoffed and started to turn back, shaking his head. “Whatever, Janus, if you’d rather—”
“No!” He stood and grabbed his sleeve. The courtroom, the whole world narrowed down to the bright flash of hope in Vee’s eyes. “I mean, yes… Yes, I’d like that. I’ll be there at seven.”
Vee’s lips curled up into a crooked little smile. “Be there at five thirty and you can cook.”
34 notes · View notes
typically-untypical · 5 months
Text
Past Judgements
AU: Lawyers
CW: None that I'm aware of
WC: 1515
Date: 12/1/2023
As a public defender, it was Virgil's job to make sure everyone on his caseload was given a fair trial. He wanted to make sure everyone got a chance, especially those who couldn't afford to hire a fancy lawyer. Unfortunately, all of that was easier said then done. His caseload grew by the day and the people he helped were often not forthcoming with the truth. How could he blame them, a lot of the people he was trying to help had been torn down by a system that wasn't designed to protect them. It was a fight to convince them that he was on their side, that he wasn't there to make them look bad but rather to help them out. Sometimes, with time and effort, he could get the truth out, but he just didn't have the time. 
Straightening his purple tie, he waited for the officer to buzz him into the facility. Today's meeting was with one 'Janus Hennily', a name Virgil was surprised to see again. He had known Janus when he was younger, a student at his high school who was full of sarcasm and trickery. Janus had been... not necessarily a bully, but he certainly wasn't going to be the one who stepped in when someone was being bullied. He was more of the 'walk away and not get involved' type. Virgil wondered where that Janus had ended up. He had seemed intelligent but they had never really been friends. He had been hot though.
"Ah, Virgil Black, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Looks like you ran off and became a lawyer. Good for you." The smooth voice echoed in Virgil's mind, it was deeper than it used to be, rougher around the edges like it had actually seen time and hardship.
Vigil's grip tightened on his briefcase, "Janus, so it is you. I'm surprised you got caught with all your running away." There was no reason for him to be so hostile, but Janus brought back high school memories; memories of him being too weak to protect himself, too weak to take care of what he needed to take care of. High school hadn't been a good time for him.
Janus put his hand to his chest, the chains around his wrists and ankles jingling as he moved. "Me, a runner, never. You should know I'm not one for physical exercise if I can avoid it. It seems like you're good at jumping to conclusions though. Were you surprised to see me here or did you expect this was where I'd end up?"
Though his face had changed, his smirk hadn't. The new scars only deepened its terrifying nature. When Janus smirked it seemed like he knew all of the secrets of the world and he was just waiting for everyone else to catch up. Too bad Virgil had seen him be a total dork in high school and that smirk lost some of its power.
With a sigh, Virgil sat down, putting his briefcase on the table. "What did you do, Janus?"
"Rude as always. Isn't it your job to prove I didn't, or do I need to ask for other counsel. It seems you already have prejudices against me." Maybe Virgil was just imagining it but it felt like Janus was actually hurt. That wasn't Virgil's intention. Honestly, he didn't know what his emotional intention was, but he knew what his job was.
"I'm here to help, and I'll do it, I just need you to be straight with me, why are you in chains?"
"Be straight? Good luck with that, I haven't been straight since Remus showed me his parents’ copy of the 1990's Mummy movie, but I can be bi with you." Janus leaned back, looking Virgil up and down. This was the worst part, people trying to avoid answering questions by deflecting or saying something shocking. 
"You're avoiding the question." Virgil scowled and Janus rolled his eyes.
"And you're not an ounce of fun. I was being honest with you, I didn't do anything, nothing illegal at least. I was at a protest, which is a protected right I would like to add, and I was arrested under charges of 'disturbing the peace', however, we weren't chanting, we weren't blocking traffic, we did everything by the book and yet we were still arrested, a true travesty." His voice wavered on sarcastic but there was something more behind it, something that hinted that Janus was tired. Virgil didn't want to get soft for this guy. Janus had run away when Virgil needed help back in school and a guy like that wasn't the protest type.
"Come on, they wouldn't keep you if they didn't think they had more on you than that. I've read through the file but something is missing. I need you to tell me what I'm not seeing or I can't help." Virgil wished Janus would just answer his question. He was the other man's lawyer, he had client attorney privileges. He wasn't going to tell anyone because that would be very much against his rules. Janus had to know this, he was the type of guy who had reveled in the details and loopholes he could get around, but he didn't seem to be reveling right now.
His shoulders had dropped and he was looking up at the ceiling. "The cop that arrested me... we have a history," Janus whispered, suddenly sitting up. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to be caught by the same pig twice, especially when the second time he had a vendetta."
"But your file doesn't-"
"I got him on a police battery charge, it was dropped and we settled out of court but he was put on suspension 2 years ago. Apparently he was let back on for 'good behavior'. When I was able to, I had it taken off my record. I don't like people being able to trace me easily. Plus, people get weird when the background check shows charges, even if they were dismissed. For fucks sake, I'm probably going to lose my job over this which means I will still feel the consequences of his actions even if they let me go. Congrats to him, officer piggy still wins, even if you manage to get me out of this." Janus sighed and did his best to put on a smile, leaning toward Virgil, "So what now, lawyer man?"
Virgil was taken back by the sudden shift from honesty to flippantness. It was almost like he could see through Janus' facade for a brief moment, but then it was gone and he could only remember the kid in high school who’d run when he needed help. It was hard to remember that people changed, but Janus had apparently changed, at least a little bit. 
"Alright, I'll look into it. If we can prove he was discriminating against you then we can seek damages. It won't get you your job back but it might get you a bit of reparations for your lost time." Doing things like this always made Virgil a little on edge. He needed to prove that not only was Janus innocent, but he had been targeted because of his past with a previous officer. "Is there anything else you want me to know before I leave?" Virgil was already starting to pack up his stuff, moving his notes into his briefcase as he started to stand. He was expecting a teasing comment or some snide remark, but he wasn't expecting Janus' quiet sincere voice.
"You grew up well, handsome, successful. I wish I had gone after you in high school."
Virgil froze in his place, completely taken off guard by Janus' confession. "You ran away when I was being bullied, I wouldn't have gone for you."
"Fair enough, but if it helps, I ran to get a teacher. No sense in having both of our faces slammed into the dirt. I'm not certain if you know this or not, but I have very little athletic ability."
Virgil snorted, shaking his head and grabbing his briefcase. "I remember, well maybe if we can prove your innocence, you can ask me out."
"You don't already have someone?" Janus looked surprised and Virgil smiled at something genuine flashing in his face. 
Virgil shook his head, "I changed my last name, but it's in memoriam. I lost my mother five years ago, Black was her maiden name."
"Oh," Janus reached out, stopped by his chains so he just sat back. "I'm sorry to hear that, I remember her being a pretty nice lady."
"Yeah, she was. She's why I wanted to be a lawyer."
"Well then, I owe my freedom to her."
"That's if we win." Virgil responded and Janus just smirked again.
"We have to, otherwise I won't be able to take you on a date."
Virgil blushed, turning and leaving as quickly as he could. He had a rule of not dating criminals, but if he proved Janus was unjustly detained, then he wasn't a criminal, right?
Right.
Tag List: @simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @glacierruler @tsspromptmonth
32 notes · View notes
lonely-night · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“I came here as a courtesy. You might show me the same by not insulting my intelligence.”
Kathryn Janeway and Seven of Nine | STAR TREK VOYAGER
Donna Geysen and Patrice LaRue | LAW AND ORDER SVU
180 notes · View notes
the-scarlet-witch-22 · 3 months
Text
Love and Liabilities: Chapter Three (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)
Tumblr media
Summary: Upon starting your last year of law school, imagine your surprise when the woman from your one night stand turns out to be your professor.
Word Count: 6.1k
Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Light sexual situations (very light)
A/N: Hello! I got a bit carried away with this chapter, but I’m battling a head cold so I’m just posting all of it. I’d like to warn that I am: 1) not a lawyer & 2) not a law student (yet 🤧)… so I did some brief research on things, but I am not an expert!! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and feel free to let me know what you think. Thank you for reading!
Tag-List: @aggieslittleslut @gilmorelivie @harknessshi @neverfindmegone @ris-ris-mind @sabstance-blog @tr333sus
There was a special moment in every person’s life that made them reconsider all of their past choices. For you, that moment happened while sitting in the middle of a lecture hall, wondering how the hell the woman from your first one night stand turned out to be your professor. If this was the universe’s way of being funny you were seriously missing the joke.
Agnes, no, Agatha, you mentally corrected yourself, was passing around a seating chart, and you were fixated on her every move around the lecture hall. There was something so hypnotizing about her, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The most obvious answer, of course, was that she had just fucked your brains out a few days ago, and the hormones were clouding your judgement. Flashes of her body pressing yours into the mattress as she whispered pure filth in your ear, driving you to an orgasmic high had you shifting uncomfortably in your seat. As if she could read your thoughts, you noticed her inquisitive eyes meet yours. But as quickly as she graced you with her attention, she looked away.
“Now, I know most of your professors use syllabus week as an excuse to put off lecturing, but we’re going to be diving right into the corrupt, filthy world of criminal defense law.” Agatha’s voice rang out through the lecture hall, and you saw a few of your classmates' shoulders slump at her words. “The purpose of this class is to make you question your morals; to rethink any existing ethical values you currently hold.”
Agnes-Agatha, was so well-spoken, and you found yourself hanging onto her every word. Her perfectly painted red lips were mesmerizing to watch as they twisted to form various syllables, and you were having a rather difficult time focusing on her lecture.
Standing in the center of the hall, Agatha held her hands by her side, and you watched her fingers slipping inside her pants pockets. “I want you to take every preconceived notion you have regarding criminal defense and erase it. When you’re a criminal defense attorney, it doesn’t matter if your client is innocent or guilty. It doesn’t matter if they are on trial for petty theft, or for first degree murder.”
She turned her attention to the PowerPoint being displayed on the huge screen, and you, alongside your very disgruntled classmates, pulled out your laptops to take notes. “The biggest mistake you can make in the courtroom is taking the time to care if your client actually committed the crime. That doesn’t matter. I don’t care what any professor or prosecutor will tell you; ignore them. We don’t care if someone is a criminal, but we do care about the motive. Why would someone commit a crime of that nature? What would lead them to have to behave that way?”
A few of your classmates appeared surprised at the professor’s words, but Agatha continued on. “To win over a judge or jury you need to not only be able to rationalize, but clearly justify why the motives lead to the actions of the accused. Nothing in life is ever black and white, there’s always an obscene amount of gray mixed in.”
Leaning back against her desk, Agatha clicked through the slide show. “Now, I don’t typically begin this until a few weeks into the semester, but you’re all 3L’s, yes? You should be up for a challenge on the first day.”
Not waiting for verbal confirmation, she pushed herself off the desk, pointing to someone sitting in the front row. “I see my seating chart is still floating around somewhere so, you, what’s your name?”
A petite girl with sleek blonde hair pulled back in a braid apprehensively looked at Agatha. “Blair Lange, Professor Harkness.”
“Well Miss Lange, you’re going to be my prosecutor.” Agatha gave her a rather menacing smirk. “If you’d join me, please.”
Looking around the room, she spotted the seating chart and went to retrieve it. Her eyes scanned the page, and you were captivated with the sight of her long index finger tracing along the various rows filled with names. “Hmmm, let’s see.” Agatha drawled out, voice sickly sweet like honey. “Who’s going to be my next victim?”
It seemed the universe was keen on laughing at you today, as you heard her call your name, slowly drawing out each syllable. Lovely. Rising from your chair, you felt dozens of pairs of eyes on you as you descended the stairs, but there was only one set that you were focused on. Agatha was observing you with an indecipherable expression on her face, and you felt your cheeks deepen in color at the prolonged eye contact.
“So class, we have our prosecution, and our defense,” She motioned to you, signaling for you to come closer to her, and she handed you each a packet. “I’m going to be the judge. I want you both to look at the following slides I have printed detailing the case and determine how you would have handled this.”
Blair’s face paled at that, and you couldn’t blame her. Cold calling was intimidating enough, but a mock trial on the first day was not exactly how you imagined starting your morning. There were a lot of misconceptions regarding law school; a lot of law students, yourself included, had no interest being in a courtroom. Corporate law dealt with complex contracts and deals for major companies, something you preferred working with. This was nowhere near what you wanted to practice, but it seemed Agatha simply didn’t care.
Agatha strolled back to her desk, leaving you both to read the information provided to you. Flipping through the pages, you noted how the case involved a woman being charged with attempted grand theft and attempted assault of the business owner.
From a first glance, there didn’t seem to be much for you to even argue. The defendant was a former employee of the aforementioned business, and had been fired mere hours before the incident. But, there were a few interesting details. The defendant had no priors, and, from what you were reading, multiple eyewitnesses reported the business owner pulling a gun on them. Your eyes were locked on one particular paragraph, and you remembered what Agatha had just said, about obscene amounts of gray.
Blair, for her part, looked fairly uncertain, and kept casting nervous glances towards the professor. Agatha ignored her, and after a few moments she clapped her hands together. “Alright, let’s begin. Now, all I want from the two of you is to have a lively debate on how you would take the information given to argue your side. You don’t have to use the argument given on the page, you can choose a different route if you have sufficient evidence to support. Miss Lange, why don’t you get us started.”
Clearing her throat, Blair looked down at the papers, and you noted how her hands were so unsteady they were shaking. “Right. Well I would argue that the prosecution proceeds with both attempted grand theft and assault against the defendant.”
Rolling her eyes, Agatha let out a deep sigh. “Miss Lange, I’m not asking you to read verbatim what is on the sheet in front of you. When looking at court documents, it is essential to not only be able to read what is given but to be able to put it in your own words.”
Blair kept her eyes glued to the page and Agatha shook her head in disapproval. “Fine, I’ll let it slide for now. If the defense could keep us going, let’s keep it snappy.”
Taking a deep breath, you looked up at Agatha. “The defense is pleading not guilty to attempted assault and grand theft.”
You noticed Blair looked up in surprise at your statement, as that was not printed in the court documents, while Agatha merely raised her eyebrows, turning her attention towards you. “Not guilty? Why?”
“The plaintiff stated in their testimony that both the attempted assault and grand theft were unprovoked, but the defense is arguing that both of these allegations have mitigating circumstances that I’d argue are grounds for immediate dismissal.”
Blair shuffled the papers around, and she appeared uncomfortable. “Professor Harkness, that’s not listed anywhere in here.”
Agatha held up a hand, signaling for Blair to stop talking. “Defense, if you could proceed.”
You could feel butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach as you realized you were taking a rather large leap in judgment. “On behalf of my client, I’m looking to not only have these charges dropped, but to formally charge the plaintiff with wrongful termination.”
“Does the prosecution have anything to add?” Agatha questioned, folding her arms across her chest.
“I’m not sure where to even begin, Professor.” Blair admitted, and you felt a quick twinge of pity for her, briefly wondering if perhaps you should dial it back.
Agatha frowned, and you could immediately tell she was displeased with that answer. “You don’t know where to begin? That’s the answer you’re going with?”
Blair remained silent, and Agatha took a deep breath. “My, my, you’ve completed two years of law school and you don’t know where to begin. Is there anything constructive you can add to this debate, Miss Lange?”
Stammering, Blair shook her head, looking anywhere but at your professor. “No, I don’t.”
“Disappointing.” Agatha admitted, and her eyes narrowed, pointing to the door. “Get out.”
Your classmate’s eyes widened, and you felt that twinge of pity grow even larger.
“Professor Harkness, please. I didn’t-” Blair stammers.
“Get out of my class. Now.” Agatha repeated, her tone growing more agitated with each word. “And don’t come back until you’re adequately prepared.”
The hall was dead quiet, and you were too shocked to know how to react, or if you even should. Nearly all of your classmates were dumbfounded as well, this wasn't a normal occurrence in classes. A lot of your former law professors were strict and had extremely high expectations of their students; endless hours of case studies and readings, roasting students who froze during cold calls, you name it. However, you had never witnessed one of them kick a student out of class, least of all during syllabus week.
To her credit, Blair left with a lot more grace than you could have mustered in her shoes. She swiftly grabbed her belongings and hurried out of the lecture hall, the sound of the doors slamming shut reverberated across the walls.
Agatha paid no mind to the noise, her focus was entirely on you, deep blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “There is no direct evidence suggesting that the plaintiff is guilty of wrongful termination, is there?”
Your eyes flickered between the papers in your hands and the alluring woman in front of you. “Not in those exact words, no.”
Agatha let out a low hum, taking a small step closer to you. “So you’re basing your argument off of what exactly? Intuition?”
A few of your classmates snickered, but you ignored them.
Shaking your head, you tried to muster any remaining confidence you could find. “No. I’m basing it off the written testimonials by four different employees, stating that the defendant showed up late on the day of the incident because they were at a previously scheduled doctor’s appointment.”
“But there’s nothing to support that the defendant was fired because they were late. Much less, that they were wrongfully terminated for it.” Agatha skillfully argued, poking holes in your theory with ease. “How do we know that they didn’t have a history of showing up late to work? Having an incomplete argument guarantees the prosecution will tear you to shreds, you need something more absolute.”
“That’s true.” You admitted, and took a pause before adding, “I think the defendant being pregnant makes things a bit more absolute though, doesn’t it?”
Agatha’s face remained expressionless as she slowly raised her left arm up, index finger tapping against her cheek. “Is that a question or your statement?”
Without hesitating you replied, “My statement.”
“And how do you plan on proving that the defendant was not only fired due to their pregnancy, but that both counts of attempted grand theft and assault should be dropped?” Agatha questioned, and it looked as if she was actively trying to restrain herself from stepping closer to you, but surely you were imagining that.
“The defendant had absolutely no priors, and they don’t have a history of being fired from previous employers.” You pointed out, setting your papers down on Agatha’s desk. “They had previously cleared coming in late in order to go to a scheduled doctor’s appointment, and it was stated that when they showed up to work that the plaintiff fired them. Written testimonials from multiple employees stated the plaintiff said it was unacceptable for the defendant to show up late, despite them approving the time off.”
Agatha’s lips pursed as she processed what you were saying. “You’re making an awful lot of assumptions. What of the attempted grand theft and assault?”
“Grand theft in the state of New York starts at $1,000. The defendant showed up at the business after they had been wrongfully terminated to request their pay from previous days worked, which would come out to around that amount.” You explained, hoping you had the right number. “As for the quoted attempted assault, no eyewitnesses noted the defendant raising even a finger to threaten the plaintiff. The latter, however, was seen pulling out a gun on the defendant, completely unprovoked.”
“And if the plaintiff claims it was self defense?” Agatha fired back with so much zest that you wondered how much she was enjoying this debate.
Tilting your head, you pondered her words. “Self defense against an unarmed pregnant woman? That won’t hold up well with the jury.”
“You’re certain this is the argument you want to back?” Agatha tested you again, her index finger moving from her cheek to lightly stroke her bottom lip, and you found yourself hypnotized by the motion. As if she could sense your distraction, her ever red lips tilted up to form a slight smirk.
“I’m certain.”
Her eyes bore into yours, searching for any hesitation or uncertainty. You held your own as much as you could, ignoring the flip flop of your nerves. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, she gave you a single nod, turning her attention back to the rest of the class.
“Not bad.” Agatha offered, and you immediately let out the breath you had been holding in. “A few of your arguments would have been thrown out, but you certainly appear to have the stamina for the courtroom.”
She gave you a subtle raised eyebrow at the last part of the sentence as you lightly blushed, confirming your suspicions she had most likely selected you on purpose. Heading back to your seat, you listened to her drone on to the rest of the class that everyone would eventually end up in the hot seat before the semester’s end.
“And it appears we are all out of time for the day.” Agatha announced, and nearly everyone let out a sigh of relief at that. “Come prepared to debate the best way to prepare an opening statement.”
Everyone eagerly filed out of the hall, but you lingered, slowly putting away your belongings. A few of your classmates congratulated you on surviving Agatha’s ruthless interrogations, and you merely offered them a brief thanks. Agatha also appeared to be in no hurry, as she leisurely shut down her laptop. You debated on if you should talk to her, if you should address the elephant in the room that you were both dancing around. Walking down the steps of the aisles, you were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you tripped on the last step and went flying forward.
Before you tumbled to the floor, swift hands wrapped around your waist and shoulder, helping steady you to the ground. As you went to thank your savior, you were surprised to find Agatha standing in front of you, bag dropped at her side.
“You’re always this clumsy, hm?” Agatha lightly quipped as she examined you. If you didn’t know any better you would say she was concerned. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” You assured her, thankful she had been there to catch you. “Could I talk to you?” Looking around the room you noticed most of your classmates had left but you carefully added, “About the discussion in class?”
Agatha hesitated, and you wondered if you pushed too far, but after a moment she nodded. “I have some time now, my office?” She walked away before you could reply, swinging the doors open. “Try to keep up, and be careful not to trip.”
It didn’t take long for you to realize Agatha Harkness was quite feared in the law school. You lost track of the number of students who averted their gaze and scurried away as soon as they noticed her rounding the corner. It was almost amusing, at least Agatha seemed to think so, as she looked quite smug on the walk to her office. You made the trek in silence, and it eerily reminded you of a similar encounter you had shared with her only a few days prior. Upon reaching the office, Agatha quickly unlocked it, ushering you inside.
Agatha’s office was relatively spacious for a law professor, with high vaulted ceilings and large windows that allowed plenty of light in. The walls were adorned with large bookcases, filled to the brim with various titles ranging from Greek classics to biographies of different Supreme Court justices. She had a plethora of plants scattered around, and you learned from spending enough time in Maria’s office that Agatha knew how to properly water them. There was a large desk situated near the windows, with a high backed mahogany chair at the head.
Agatha took a seat, and pointed to two smaller seats on the other side of the desk. “Sit, please.”
You did as she instructed, taking note of the rather expensive looking whiskey near the corner of the desk as well as a few books the professor appeared to be reading. When you looked at her, you were unsurprised to find her curiously gazing at you.
“I assume you don’t actually want to discuss today’s class?” Agatha guessed, amusement evident in her tone.
“Not exactly.” You admitted, feeling another rush of nerves course through your system at finally being alone with her.
“Oh? Whatever did you want to talk about then?” Agatha bantered, leaning forward across her desk as she gave you an expectant look.
“Agatha…” Trailing off, you cleared your throat. “I mean, Professor Harkness.”
Frowning, Agatha reached her hand across the desk to brush against yours, chuckling as you jumped at the contact. “Just Agatha when we’re alone, dear.”
Nearly ripping your hand from hers, you folded them across your lap. “Professor Harkness, I really don’t feel comfortable calling you by your first name under these circumstances.”
Raising her eyebrows, Agatha leaned back in her chair. “Under what circumstances? After I just fucked you a few days ago and you just found out I was your professor?”
“Don’t say that!” You hissed, looking over your shoulder as if someone could have heard, despite the door being firmly shut.
“Honestly, dear, you aren’t the first girl to have slept with her professor, and you certainly won’t be the last.” Agatha stood up, walking over to an electric tea kettle she had on a bar cart. “Tea?”
Stunned by her casual response, you were at a loss for words. “You’re seriously asking me if I want tea?”
“Well I would ask if you would like some whiskey but I know drinking this early in the day is typically frowned upon.” Agatha jested, but upon noticing how upset you appeared she backed off. “Honestly, you didn’t know I was going to be your professor, I had no idea you would be walking in late to my lecture hall. No harm, no foul. No one has to know what happened.”
Her words made enough sense, and you reluctantly nodded. “I guess not.”
“It was just a one night stand, it didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.” Agatha added, turning on her tea kettle, fingers raking over various mugs. “We can just forget it ever happened.”
You knew she was right, but you were surprised to find how much her words stung. “Right, well I’m glad we were able to clear that up.” Standing up, you grabbed your bag. “I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time. Thank you again, Professor Harkness, and I’ll see you in class.”
If Agatha was surprised by your abrupt exit, she didn’t show it. She nodded, pouring herself some tea. “It was my pleasure, dear.”
Leaving her office, you told yourself that you could relax and that Agatha was right, you could just forget that it ever happened.
Only it turned out the more you tried to forget something, the harder it was to put it out of your brain. The rest of your day was spent zoning out in the library. While you had wanted to get a head start on your hours of readings, instead you kept remembering the feel of Agatha’s body against yours, the taste of her tongue in your mouth. The feel of her long fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh, her hot breath in your ear telling you how good you were for her. It was embarrassing, really.
Agatha made it quite clear in her office that it was a one night stand, and that it didn’t have to mean anything in the long run. But she continued to invade your every thought, until you inevitably lost track of time. The hours ticked by, and you knew studying in your apartment wouldn’t be any better. You normally had no trouble shutting out the rest of the world to focus on your class work, but there was something so magnetic about Agatha Harkness. This was wrong, and crazy, and you knew it. You had only spent one night with this woman, you barely knew her. But she was addictive, and she had somehow managed to rot your brain in the process.
Just as you finally started to get into your reading, you heard your phone ding. Letting out a disgruntled sigh, you shut your books for the evening and grabbed your phone, deciding it would be best to just try again in the morning. Scrolling through your notifications as you got ready to leave, you almost dropped your phone as you read the newest email in your inbox.
Not sure if you’re still on campus, but if you are, feel free to drop by my office. A few things I wanted to discuss from today’s class. -A
It was nearly dusk, and you watched the sun slowly begin to set over the Manhattan skyline, filling the sky with colorful hues of oranges, pinks, and purples. There were still plenty of people in the library, as a number of students had night classes, and you were frozen. Did Agatha know you were upset when you left? Was she going to ask you to drop her class?
As if you were in a trance, you mindlessly walked to the professor’s office, keeping your head low. You could feel your heartbeat, pounding so loud you feared it might explode through your chest as you reached her closed door.
Knocking twice, you waited for her captivating voice to tell you to enter. Upon doing so you found the woman who had taken over your every waking thought leaning against the windowsill of her office, sipping on a glass of what you presumed to be whiskey.
“Shut the door.” Agatha immediately requested, not offering you any other sort of greeting.
Gently closing the door as you entered, you lingered, unsure where to go or what you should do.
Agatha finally looked at you, and motioned to the whiskey on her desk. “Would you like a glass?”
“It’s probably best if I don’t.” You declined, once again remembering the last time you were drinking around her. “Thank you though.”
“You were upset by what I said earlier.” Agatha stated, setting her whiskey on the windowsill. She said it calmly and so matter of fact you almost wondered why she bothered saying it at all.
“I wasn’t upset.” You disagreed, but she gave you a pointed look in return as if to say bullshit.
“You were upset by what I said earlier.” Agatha repeated, stepping away from the windowsill. “Why?”
“I…I don’t know.” You replied, the lie burning like acid on your tongue, causing you to wince.
“You don’t know?” Agatha mimicked your words, and she seemed agitated as she began to walk towards you, closing the distance little by little. “You don’t know why you were upset?”
“Professor Harkness, I really don’t see why we have to go over all of this again-” You started to say until you were rudely cut off by a loud cackle.
“For an aspiring lawyer, you have an absolute shit poker face.” Agatha informed you, swarming in; you shivered as you were suddenly standing so close together that you were nearly face to face. “Why were you upset?”
Your face grew red from her scrutinizing gaze, and that only egged her on. “I think we both know why, don’t we, darling?” Leaning in until she was close enough to your ear, she leaned in to whisper, “You wanted me to fuck you again, didn’t you?”
“Professor Harkness, I…” You breathed out, feeling yourself grow dizzy, and you couldn’t remember anything but her name.
“I thought I told you to call me Agatha.” The professor gently reprimanded you, as her hand came up to cup the back of your neck, and you could smell the whiskey in her breath. “Just Agatha.”
As her tongue parted her luscious red lips, you lost any remaining functioning brain cells and closed the distance between you, frantically kissing her. Agatha tangled her fingers in your hair, tugging you impossibly closer. The professor was kissing you with fervor, and you slowly found yourself melting with every passionate movement of her lips. Her tongue slowly, teasingly, sought entrance to your mouth, which you granted without a second thought. You let out a series of quiet moans as her hands moved lower to cup your ass, greedily groping, and she chuckled at your reaction.
“So easy for me.” Agatha softly murmured against your lips, pulling back just enough to lead you to lean back against her desk.
You wanted to argue that no, you weren’t easy for her, but you both knew that was a lie. Her hands moved to remove the scarf you had been forced to wear as a result of the multitude of hickeys she had adorned your body with, and you watched her eyes darken at the sight.
“Well you certainly bruise easily.” Agatha teased, tracing every mark with her fingers, the overwhelming sensation causing you to whine. “And still so responsive. Fascinating.”
Thousands of thoughts were circulating in your brain, and every touch from Agatha made it harder for you to focus. Her lips attached to the side of your neck, immediately alternating between sucking and biting, lightly kissing each new mark she left. At this rate you were going to have to ask your roommates if they had any scarves you could borrow. Just as Agatha went to unbutton your pants, there was a loud thumping noise from the hallway, and you both leapt apart.
Panting, you felt a spike in your anxiety at the thought of being caught like this, even though rationally speaking you knew no one could possibly know what you were doing in here.
Agatha seemed to be having similar thoughts, as she straightened her jacket, clearing her throat. “Perhaps this isn’t the best place to continue this. Could I invite you for a night cap?”
In an attempt to get your breathing under control, you shook your head. “No, I think that would be a mistake.”
Shooting you a perplexed look, Agatha strolled over to the windowsill to pick up her whiskey. “A mistake? If I correctly recall you just kissed me, did you not?”
“You came on to me first!” You argued, and your brain appeared to be regaining consciousness as you remembered why this was such a bad idea. “I can’t risk this ruining things.”
“Someone certainly thinks highly of themselves.” Agatha dryly retorted, finishing off her whiskey and pouring herself another. “And what pray tell do you think this,” she motioned to you before continuing, “will ruin?”
“I have a job offer for next year.” You explained, and mentally cursed yourself for your lapse of judgment. “They never said fucking my professor would cause me to lose it, but I don’t think it would help my case.”
Agatha’s eyes shifted at that comment, and she let out a sigh. “And you’re worried about what, exactly? That we’ll give ourselves away and this unimportant firm will care so much about your deviousness that they’ll drop you?”
“It’s Stark & Strange.” You bluntly corrected her, not caring if you were being rude. “And I can’t really afford to fuck that up.”
You didn’t mention how literally you couldn’t afford to mess this up. Law school was expensive, and while you were granted a few scholarships to cover tuition, you still had to take out hundreds of thousands of dollars of loans. Plus not to mention the extra thousands you would have to spend in order to prepare for the bar. You were thankful your summer associate position paid so well, as you were able to pay for the majority of your rent for the year, but you weren’t exactly flush with cash. Working in corporate law would practically guarantee you opportunities you could never dream of having otherwise.
“Tony Stark is a dick, and I know for a fact he’s committed sins far worse than sleeping with his professor.” Agatha unhelpfully offered, but she appeared to sense how upset you were as she finally walked back over to you, setting her glass down on her desk before rubbing your shoulders. “No one is going to find out, dear. There’s really nothing to fret over.”
It was surreal, how one touch from her practically set your body ablaze with want. It was clear you were unable to control yourself when you were around the older woman. The thought of having to sit in that large lecture hall three times a week, watching her and obsessing over her every little move felt almost unbearable.
Hesitating for a brief moment, you moved your eyes to look at anything but her. “I think I need to drop your class.”
“Absolutely not.”
Frowning, you looked back to find her staring at you as if you said something incredibly stupid. “Why not? You have plenty of other students.”
“They’re morons.” Agatha insisted, rolling her eyes as if it was obvious.
Snorting, you shook your head at how dramatic she was. “Today was only the first day, how could you possibly know that?”
Agatha’s right hand gripped the desk, while her left absentmindedly played with your hair, gently stroking it. “I can just tell, I’m rather gifted that way.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “And apparently very humble as well.”
Blue eyes sparkling, Agatha continued to twirl strands of your hair. “You have a lot of potential as a defense attorney. I saw it today during class. There’s a lot of fight in you, and passion. That’s not something that can be taught.”
Blushing at the compliment, you shook your head. “Thank you, but I really have no interest in being in a courtroom.”
Shrugging, Agatha dropped your hair, taking another small sip of her whiskey. “It never hurts to keep your options open.”
“I just don’t think this is a good idea.” You continued, keeping yourself grounded to reality. “I can’t…control myself around you.”
“But that’s half the fun, darling.” Agatha taunted, but showed you mercy as she went back to sit in her chair. “It’s ultimately up to you, but I think it would be a mistake to drop the class.”
Following her lead, you sat across from her, fidgeting your hands on your lap. “So what, then? We just avoid each other outside of class?”
Agatha shook her head in disagreement. “Too juvenile. Besides, that would just make it easier for us to give into temptation.”
She put a special emphasis on the last word, giving you a salacious grin, and you wiggled uncomfortably in your seat before you eventually responded. “I’m not seeing any other solutions besides me dropping your class and trying to get in another.”
“It’s far too late for you to get a spot in anything half decent.” Agatha insisted, and you knew she was right. At this point you’d have to take an extra class in the spring, and pay more money than you could currently afford. “Besides, I already have a solution.”
You looked at her, surprised at how quickly she had come up with something. “You do?”
“We’ll make a contract.” Agatha simply stated, and you stared blankly at her.
“A…contract?”
The professor deeply sighed, running her fingers back to unpin her hair, the dark curls messily framing her face. “Honestly, dear. Didn’t you spend the summer fawning over those big bad attorneys at Stark & Strange? Yes, a contract. We’ll each put our terms in and come up with an appropriate way to navigate this until the semester’s end in thirteen weeks.”
A contract. Hm. It was a bit cliche, sure, but you couldn’t think of anything better.
But still, you were curious to what extent Agatha intended to try and make this work. “What exactly would we be putting in the contract?”
Agatha shrugged. “This and that. No sex, obviously.” She gave you an inquisitive glance. “Unless you feel differently?”
Flashes of her fingers curling and twisting inside you had you squirming again. “No, I think that’s definitely necessary.”
Grinning like a cat that ate the canary, Agatha smugly replied with, “I thought so. Given your particular lack of self control, perhaps we could eliminate anything…carnal, hm?”
Glaring at her, you wondered where she got the audacity. “I don’t think it’s just me that’s lacking control, but that’s probably wise.” Another thought crossed your mind, and you quickly added, “Then again, we never did discuss the Agnes of it all, did we? Do you really think you’re important enough to need to give people a fake name?”
“You’re quite cheeky for someone who was practically begging me to fuck her in my office.” Agatha shot back, and shook her head. “Do you not give yourself an alias when you talk to strangers?”
Enjoying the banter, you gave a thoughtful expression before eventually saying, “No, I don’t think most people do that.”
Agatha narrowed her eyes, and she seemed unamused. “Safety, dear. For all I knew, you could have been a serial killer.”
You gave her a wide, innocent smile. “No, I just turned out to be your student.”
“You're not supposed to make jokes.” Agatha informed you, swirling the remaining whiskey in her glass. “Most lawyers aren’t funny.”
Ignoring her, you changed the subject. “And what is going to happen at the end of the semester?” You curiously eyed her, unsure what her response would be, or even what you wanted it to be.
“We’ll reevaluate of course.” Agatha explained, before adding with a smirk. “That is, if you pass my class.”
“Of course.”
“So do we have a deal?” Holding her hand out, you quickly realized she wanted you to shake it.
You reached out to firmly grab her hand, and her fingers intertwined with yours, blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
“We have a deal.”
Releasing your hand, she pulled out a post-it note, messily scribbling something down before sliding it over to you. “That’s my cell and personal email. Send me your terms by tomorrow night and we’ll put something together.”
Taking the post-it, your eyes scanned the writing before carefully pocketing it. “Right, thanks. I guess I should be going?”
Nodding, Agatha stood up to walk you to the door. Meeting you halfway, she carefully wrapped the scarf back around your next, tugging on it slightly and grinning at the shiver you let out. “I look forward to doing business with you, dear. See you in class.”
Exiting her office, your fingers fumbled through the pockets of your jeans until they felt the post-it note, and you wondered what the hell you just got yourself into.
108 notes · View notes
blouisparadise · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Upon request, today we have a rec list of BL fics where Louis and/or Harry are lawyers. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) Pretty, Perfect Angel | Explicit | 2514 words
Harry comes home late and wakes Louis up. Louis does something he wasn't supposed to and gets in trouble.
2) Helping A Friend | Explicit | 2961 words
Louis is very energetic and sometimes a bit too much for people to handle, but Harry finds an unconventional method that works better than meds.
3) Where We Start | Mature | 3728 words | Sequel
Being sick and tired of getting teased by all his friends for being the only virgin left in his group, Louis is determined to get fucked; he doesn't care who or where or how. He just so happens to get fucked by the infamous slut, Harry Styles.
4) You'll Wait For Me Only | Teen & Up | 9106 words
Harry nips at the bondmark on Louis’ neck, Louis’ hands go to his hips, grounding him. He allows himself this, knowing that his Omega needs it too. Harry pulls back, “Go on a date with me.” He rushes out, looking at Louis’ eyes.
Louis laughs and shakes his head. “No, Louis, I’m serious. We’ve bonded for life anyway, might as well try.” Louis looks at him, “You’ve been thinking about this a lot.” Louis points out, Harry nods. “Okay.” Louis says and walks out leaving Harry. “Okay what?!”
5) You’re All I See In My Mind (I Think I See A Lifetime) | Explicit | 16312 words
Kitten hybrid Louis gets kicked out of his house. With nowhere to go and a very cold and stormy weather outside, he ends up wandering into Harry’s shed to hide from the thunder and rain (he gets terrified by it). Harry hears crying from the shed so he goes to investigate.
6) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39830 words
Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed onto his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.
7) Somebody To Love | Explicit | 51471 words
A hesitant fist hovers, ready to knock on the hard surface, when suddenly the door swings open revealing a small child with a huge smile plastered on her face.
“You’re here, finally!” She beams up at him, haphazardly brushing her orange hair away from her eyes.
He can’t help but let a grin fill his face at her anticipation. Bunching his pants at his ankles, he crouches down to her level. “You must be Margret.”
“Actually, only my daddy calls me that when I’m in trouble,” she explains with an assertive tone. “So you can call me Margo.”
“Well, Margo, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Louis.”
8) Echoes & Omens | Mature | 100707 words
Echoes of the dead come in many forms. Their imprints forever tied to the ones who'd killed them.
Louis Tomlinson is able to track the dead using their echoes, they call to him. He's used that gift to aid Scotland Yard in their investigations, with the hopes of studying Criminology at Cambridge University. He's lived a life of privilege and good fortune as a Marquess, son of the late Duke Tomlinson, with his life mapped out since day one.
Until two terrible truths are revealed.
One, he's adopted.
Two, his biological parents are London's most notorious serial killers.
Against his family's wishes, Louis travels to Chicago to uncover the truth of their incarceration. Much to his dismay, his biological mother's Lawyer, Harry Styles, wants to take his case. Together, they work to uncover what really happened all those years ago, but perhaps more is revealed than they could've ever anticipated. Trapped in a whirlwind of portents and omens, Louis and Harry find themselves pitted against an enemy they'd not foreseen.
9) You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) | Teen & Up | 102036 words
“Harry is not short for Harold,” he corrects, his voice as thick as molasses. He lowers his eyes to Louis’ sequined lapels, rubbing one between two fingers. “Is this small or extra small? It looks lovely.”
Louis breaks away from his grip with a petulant huff and pushes him back with two fingers.
“You’re mocking me. Again.”
Harry smiles and it's a real honest swoop of his lips this time. Louis’ stomach swoops with them.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
122 notes · View notes
joannasteez · 2 months
Text
WIP WEDNESDAY- EXCERPTS
thanks so much for the tag! @theninthwonder !! warning: this is another little AU ive been working on…(do u all see a pattern lol) but yeah. lawyer AU that im slowly working through. its got some workplace spice to it. but heres a lil bit of it. no real warnings besides foul language. note: who ever wants to participate in the challenge is of course welcomed to do so!
Tumblr media
"what would you do without me?"
"suffer". "survive".
you thumb over your phone, ending the call. amused at the irony. cody could—contrary to what he thinks, but with barely any feet left to stand on—survive on his own. just barely. but roman would absolutely suffer.
and though you've never let the words leave your lips, form the letters together to produce such a humble grouping of syllables, suffering would be your portion without them. because new york, in all its supposed opportunity, was overly congested with ambition and malice and corrupt spirit. it was a machine of a city, and would soon turn anything and anyone into a lowly little cog, before it ever showed you some much needed grace and favor. thats why it never slept, and maybe thats why you barely do either. forcing caffeine down your throat to your belly to keep up with the pace. they, the boys, probably did it for the same reasons. and they weren't even from here. conforming to this jungle of a landscape out of pure will to succeed. to say they did it. pride and ego. that's what you think it is anyways. even amongst the satisfaction of so called justice. that's all it ever was. 
your stomach grumbling again. pushing forward past the entrance of the firm and hustling up two flights of steps. coffee boxes and bags of cups, sugars and creamer running across to crease your fingers. it was a bad day to forget your gloves. but it was either that or miss the train. 
steps clack with an echo. warm, strong fingers pulling at the boxes in your hands. its roman. small smile slipping into his lips. and its probably only because you've come with his coffee. 
he takes everything from you. and the relief is sweet to your fingers. 
"my savior", he muses. "i got a nice little gift for your efforts". 
"paperwork isn't a gift. it's labor". trailing behind him till you both come upon the open space styled office area. "and to be quite honest, i feel like, me, specifically, i've lived past the need to work". 
he sets the bags and boxes down in the kitchen area tucked away from paper riddled desks, fashioned with computers, printers and other general office supplies. a mocking pout set into his mouth as he looks to you. standing tall and wide. 
"theres this little thing called reality and adulting...", his voice smooth, mirthful and patronizing. and if not for the handsome ways of his face, you'd lean into the violent intrusive thought of splashing hot coffee at him. just where his freckles scatter across his cheeks. "...where you pay bills, get too little sleep, eat, fuck, stress and solve minuscule problems that make you go gray. and then you pay more bills". 
"sounds like a slow painful death". 
roman pours his coffee. sipping at the undefiled black of it. no sugar or creamers. just the bare bitterness of a pure brew. "we die daily anyways don't we?". 
"i'd like not to die without the suffering and student loan debt". 
"you do realize that you went to law school and became a paralegal right?"
12 notes · View notes
probably-impossible · 3 months
Text
Habeas Corpus
A snippet of a Lawyer AU for day 7 of @dollarstrilogyevent - justice.
Blondie heard the phone in the outer office ring and Maria's muffled voice say “Sentenza & Biondo, how can we help you?” It was quiet for a while, and then the phone on his own desk started to ring. He sighed and picked it up. 
Before he could get a word out, a voice on the other end said, in a heavy Mexican accent, “Are you Sentenza or Biondo?”
“Biondo.”
“Can you put Sentenza on? I heard he's better. No offense.”
“He's, uh… not with us anymore.”
“Oh. Sorry.” 
“'S alright.” Blondie took a moment to wash down a propranolol with his watery coffee. “You want a consultation?”
“Nah, skip it. I'm at the police station right now. They're gonna arrest me for murder. But I didn't do it!”
“Sure,” Blondie muttered. He reached for a pen and notepad. “Name?”
“Tuco Benedicto Pacífico Juan María Ramirez."
“Right.” He scribbled down the first and last names and shrugged on his olive-green blazer, which he had forgotten to have dry-cleaned for the fourth week in a row. “Don't say anything. I'll be right there.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There were only about twenty officers in the Betterville Police Department, and Blondie knew all of them. The one who met him at reception was named Wallace. He was the kind of cop who made the cameras in the interrogation rooms necessary. “You here for the Rat?” he asked.
“If the Rat's name is Ramirez, then yeah. Who's prosecuting?” 
“Mortimer.”
“Christ. You guys are taking this seriously.” 
“Murder's a serious crime.” Wallace led Blondie back to one of the little interview rooms and opened the door for him. “Your lawyer's here,” he said.
Tuco sat up from where he was slouched in a corner of the room. He was a shorter man dressed in a brown jacket, chinos, and flashy white pirarucu boots. He had gold rings on his fingers, a gold tooth, and a gold crucifix on a chain around his neck. “Hey,” he said to Wallace, “you got an ETA on that cheeseburger? I'm starving in here, man.”
“It's on its way.” Wallace motioned Blondie towards the table in the middle of the room. “Don't take too long, we want him booked tonight.”
“Yeah, alright.” Blondie sat down at the table and waited for Wallace to leave the room before turning to his new client. He opened his brown leather briefcase and pulled out a sheaf of papers and a pen. “Fee agreement,” he said. “Take a look, say if you want me to explain anything.”
Tuco nodded, took the papers, and signed the bottom one without reading a single word. “I don't know if you had a chance to look into my record,” he said. 
Blondie nodded. “It's pretty bad. You're not getting bail with those priors. Or a plea deal.” He put the fee agreement back in the briefcase and took out his notepad. “And Mortimer’s prosecuting. Likes to play hard ball and he's the best trial attorney in the state.”
“You fill me with confidence.” 
“Well, Sentenza was the best. I don’t like talkin’ as much as he did. But I'm smarter than he was. That's why I'm still here.”
Tuco drummed his fingers on the table. Despite the fact that he'd certainly been through the system before, he looked nervous. “I really didn't do it, you know.”
“Sure,” Blondie said. “But assuming you did—” 
Tuco slammed his hand on the table with a force that almost made Blondie jump. “I’m innocent this time,” he insisted, raising his voice. “And that's the truth! If you don't believe me how the hell is anybody else supposed to, huh?!”
Blondie raised his eyebrows. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Alright then,” he said. “Convince me first.”
Tuco growled. “Son of a whore… You're lucky the Rojos recommended you, otherwise I'd take my chances with the public defender.”
Ah. The Rojo cartel were Sentenza & Biondo's best customers. “This have anything to do with them?”
Tuco avoided his gaze. “Well, maybe. A little. I may or may not have been doing a favor for Ramon at the time.”
Blondie sighed, almost in relief. “If your interests end up going against theirs, ethics-wise I'd have to drop the representation. Best to play it safe. Hope you get a good public defender.” He started to put his notepad back in his briefcase.
“Shit! Wait!” Tuco reached across the table and grabbed Blondie by the wrist. His grip was surprisingly warm and firm. 
“Let go of me,” Blondie growled.
“No, you just listen to me for a minute,” Tuco said. “Are you fucking kidding me, man?! I called you because you're supposed to be the scummiest lawyer around!”
“Sure, but I don't think you're worth pissing off the Rojos.”
Tuco seemed to hesitate for a moment. “...Alright, well, I can make myself worth it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just shut up and listen.” Tuco's wide brown eyes had Blondie pinned to the spot. “The dead guy, Bill Carson. Ramon wanted him roughed up a little and I owed him a favor. So I followed him to the alley behind that strip club downtown, Mirage, I think. But when I found him, somebody else had already shot him. He was still alive, just barely. He gave me something.”
Blondie just glared at him silently.
“A key to a safety deposit box,” Tuco whispered. “With two million dollars inside. Clean cash. I managed to hide the key somewhere safe before they brought me in. I'll give you a cut of the money if you get me off.”
“Phrasing.”
“Oh fuck you.”
“What's the cut?”
“Twenty-five percent.”
“Fifty.”
“Fuck your mother too. Fine.” Tuco let go of his wrist finally and leaned backwards, scowling. “Well? Are you gonna be my lawyer or not?”
Blondie thought about it. Not for too long. A million dollars was a nice amount of money. And the firm had been in the red ever since Sentenza kicked the bucket. “Sure,” he said, and put the notepad back on the table. “For a million dollars plus my fee, I'll get you off all day long.”
17 notes · View notes
rmd-writes · 4 months
Note
is there anything you can reveal about lawyer au part 3 (YEEEEEEEEEHAWWWWWWW!!!!!!!) 👀👀🥰🥰
Hey Roop!
So lawyer au part 3 is going to have outsider pov from Bri, Zahra, Raf and maybe Shaan? And then a chapter of Henry pov as well (maybe). Essentially, each chapter is going to be when the person finds out [redacted for spoiler reasons but if you have read the other fics you know].
I have exactly three lines of dialogue for Bri's section and you can have two of them:
"But Bri, just fucking look at him! How am I supposed to resist that?" "I'm a lesbian, Alex."
13 notes · View notes