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babbushka · 3 years

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Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch.2)

– A Lawyer AU –

You and Kylo Ren have hated one another for as long as you can remember. He, a criminal prosecutor, and you, a defense attorney should be natural-born enemies, and you are. But when Kylo comes to you seeking representation after being charged for a murder he didn’t commit, you both learn a thing or two about life, the law, and love…

[5.8k, cw: mentions of murder, NSFW: PIV, fingering, biting/marking, possessive hate-fucking]

Available on AO3

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It feels as though the world has stopped. Time and space have come to a standstill, as you stare at him. Slightly, ever so gently, you pinch the back of your thigh because surely this must be a dream. You must have slept through your alarm – he’s not really there behind that pane of glass.

He can’t be.

Kylo smiles at you, an exhausted sort of smile, like he hasn’t slept in days. He shrugs his shoulders, too broad for the jumpsuit they’ve put him in. You pinch yourself again, but the sting of pain doesn’t jolt you awake in your bedroom, and so before you can do anything at all, you calmly hang the phone up on the wall and turn to the guard that has escorted you to this room, demanding with as much professional conviction as you can muster:

“Get me a private room with my client.”

There were perks to being this high up on the food chain, as it were. Not only did everyone know you, but they mostly trusted you. Trusted you enough to lead you down a hallway and around a corner, nothing but bleak grey and off-white walls passing you by, linoleum under your feet. You recognize these rooms from your previous dealings with Rikers, but never in a million years – a billion years – did you ever fucking think you’d be in one of these with Kylo.

He’s wearing orange, neon and bright. A number is splashed across the back in black paint, and you hate it. You hate him so fucking much, hate how he could have been so stupid to get himself in here. The second the guard closes the door, you’re crossing the small room to get close to him.

Kylo misinterprets your meaning, and as he closes his eyes and puckers his lips, anger flares up through you and you can’t help yourself from doing what your first instinct had been – smacking him across the face.

“Hey!” Kylo scowls, eyes snapping open as he brings his cupped hands up to his cheek to soothe the stinging skin.

Immediately you are on the prowl, stalking him around and around the room.

“What the fuck did you do?” Your breath comes in harsh pants as your mind reels with the implications of why he’s here, “I ignore you for two fucking days and you wind up in jail? Are you insane?”

“Sweetheart – ” Kylo puts his hands up in front of his face, trying to deflect another irritated smack, but you only swat at his hands instead, before clenching your jaw and practically backing him into the corner of the room.

“No, fuck you! You don’t get to call me sweetheart. I’m supposed to be in a meeting right now getting a goddamned promotion and instead I’m sitting here with some dipshit who couldn’t handle his liquor?” Exasperated, you run a hand through your hair.

“Would you just listen to me -- ?”

“Let’s see, what did you in? Was it that big mouth of yours? I saw the photos in the paper, you looked like you were yelling at them. Kylo you know better than to provoke already pissed off cops!”

“They’re charging me with murder.”

Kylo’s voice cuts through the tension in the room, and the air rushes out of your lungs. You remain frozen exactly where you’re standing, your noses nearly touching, your hands fisted in his orange jumpsuit like you’re some schoolyard bully about to lift him off his feet to demand his lunch money.

Your hands only clench tighter in the scratchy rough fabric, but for the first time in a long time, it isn’t anger that spikes through you, it’s fear.

“Excuse me?” Is all you can manage, your eyes searching his, knowing that if he’s joking, you’ll knee him so hard in the balls that the Skywalker bloodline will end with him.

He holds your gaze steady, and your throat closes because he’s telling the truth.

“In the first degree.” Kylo replies, and only then do you release him, your mind spiraling.

You move to sit down at the table in the center of the room, missing the way his hands reach for you. Head pounding, you point at the chair opposite the table. Kylo sits without a word, his face drawn in a frown, his teeth grinding. You’ve always reminded him not to do that, to unclench his jaw and unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, but you find that you’d be a hypocrite to say that now.

“Who?”

“My grandfather.”

“Did you do it?”

Kylo reacts to that question like you’ve slapped him again – he recoils physically from it, nose scrunching up as he bares his teeth at you like some wild thing, so very unlike the Prosecutor you knew. This must have really rattled him, and you’re almost sorry for asking, but it’s a question you have to ask nonetheless.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kylo hisses, “Did you seriously just ask me that question?”

“Yeah, I did.” You reply, repeating yourself with a level, “Did you?”

“No I didn’t fucking kill my own grandfather.” He scoffs, “I’m being framed, obviously.”

You can’t help but let a small smile begin to creep up at the corner of your mouth, only Kylo could say something with that much gravity so flippantly. You look at him, and he looks at you, really looks at you. In all the years that you’ve known Kylo, you don’t think you’ve ever really looked him in the eye for very long, one of you always pulling away after a moment.

But now, in the quiet of this private room, there is nothing stopping you from staring at him for as long as you’d like. His eyes are brown, but they’re a strange sort of brown, the kind that looks light from within under the fluorescents. Even in the ugly color of the room and the jumpsuit, he’s handsome, something you positively abhor him for. It shouldn’t be fair, for a prisoner to be so handsome, you think.

You’re reminded briefly of that morning, when he brought you croissants with the jam that you like, when the two of you chuckled softly in the light of morning and kissed the fruity flavor of raspberries and the sweet snap of chocolate off one another’s lips.

God, how you fucking hate him.

“Can you prove that you’re being framed?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” He whispers back, looking too vulnerable for your liking as his eyes shine, as he clasps his hands in front of you and says something that you never thought would come out of his mouth, “Will you help me?”

Part of you wants to say no.

Part of you wants to pound your fist on the table and leave, because dammit you should be thrilled about this. Kylo is the man who has caused you more stress than anything in your life, more than the LSATs or the BAR, more than the first time you ever stepped foot in a courtroom, even more than that time you had been chosen to speak at your cousin’s wedding. He is the only person you have ever lost a case to, he is the only person who has ever broken your win streak and your resolve, and he gloats about it.

You should be gloating about this, you should shove this right in his face the way he shoves everything into yours. Instead, you sigh, try to calm your frazzled nerves, and in a halfway defeated voice ask, “When’s the preliminary hearing?”

“Already had it – plead not-guilty, it’s going to trial and bail is set at a million dollars.” Kylo shocks you by answering, and you frown at him.

“You already had the preliminary hearing?” You suddenly feel very small, almost offended by that. Having the hearing meant he technically already had representation, especially if he already got a trial motion and a bail, which means he asked someone before he asked you.

“Well someone wasn’t answering her fucking phone!” Kylo can sense your mood shift at once, and he rushes to say it before you can even get your mouth opened fully to scoff,

“If you already have a goddamned lawyer then why are you wasting my time – ”

“Do you think I want your help?” Kylo snaps, once again sucking all the air out of your lungs as his face gets red, as his teeth bare once again, the vein in his neck thick and pulsing. “You think I want you to see me like this? You think I want you to have enough to gloat about for the rest of your life? No, so I’d appreciate it if you’d not be such a bitch about everything for once.”

“Why am I here, Kylo?” You whisper, wondering who is representing him. It’s probably his cousin, Rey, or maybe his business associate, Hux.

You want to fight him on it, but at the end of the day he would be right. You didn’t answer his calls.

Kylo looks away, a deep crimson blush blooming angrily across his face. It splotches over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, as he lets out a pent up breath in a deep sigh that has his shoulders sagging.

“Because you’re the only person I trust to do this right.” He says truthfully, even though he hates himself for it, “You’re the only person who can. This is the rest of my life that’s at stake, I need the best attorney I can get, and that’s you. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

Kylo wasn’t one to give out declarations like this, compliments like that. You decide not to push the issue, not now anyway, when you’re both clearly in such a bad mood.

It’s hard seeing him like this, hard thinking of him as anything other than the pain in your ass that he was. He wasn’t just Kylo now, he was a client, a high profile client with a murder charge sitting heavy on his shoulders. And you’re the only one he trusts to help him.

“Did you post bail?” You ask, knowing he has that kind of money.

“I’m working on it, it should be in sometime today.” He replies with a nod, and you nod back.

Getting up from the chair in the table, you bite at your lip. Kylo does the gentlemanly thing and stands out of respect for you, before taking a few measured steps over to you. He looks around, makes sure there’s no cameras hidden in the space, makes sure there’s no one watching.

Very carefully, ever so slowly, he leans forward and closes his eyes, his nose gently rubbing against yours. You want to kiss him, but you know you can’t, not here, not while he’s in custody like this.

“When you’re out, and whenever you’re ready, give me a call.” You whisper, and he smiles one of those cheshire cat grins of his that show off all his crooked teeth.

“Will you answer this time?” His lips ghost over yours, just barely, just a hint.

“I’ll answer.” You pull away, leaving him huffing and puffing and frustrated.

Good, you think. Let him be frustrated, if there was one thing you were certain of, it was that this case was going to age you nearly a decade from the looks of it – and you didn’t even know anything yet. Just knowing it was Kylo that the world is up against is enough.

You gather your things and brush past him to the door, knowing you’ll be seeing him again very soon, possibly even that evening, depending on how quickly the process his bail. Maybe you’d put in a good word with the office for him, get him a little higher on the priority list.

Giving the door a gentle knock to let the guard know you’re finished, the two of you wait as the locks shift and turn.

“And for the record,” You say, when the door swings open and they begin to usher Kylo back to his holding cell, you look him dead in the eye and swallow your pride to tell him, “I would’ve taken your case no matter what.”

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Neisha is waiting for you with a fresh cup of coffee in one of those disposable paper cups, and even though it tastes like shit, it’s still a calming balm on your nerves. You thank her for it and the two of you sign out through visitation, walking the way you had come to go back to the car.

“Who was it?” She can’t help but ask, curiosity in her voice.

“Who do you think?” You groan, downing another gulp of the watery caffeine, “Our favorite asshole.”

Neisha stops in her tracks at that, surprise written all over her face. Part of you wonders how she hadn’t recognized his voice over the phone, but then again, maybe you were the only one who cared enough about the deep baritone of his to notice it.

“No way!” Still, she’s shocked, and that shock turns to confusion almost at once, “He wound up in Rikers over a DUI?”

You sigh, and shake your head, chugging the rest of your coffee. You used to down two pots of the stuff a day in law school, and now nothing ever seemed strong enough. Even chain coffee didn’t hit right anymore, everywhere either burned their beans or under brewed, it was a mess. A million coffee shops in Manhattan and the only good cup of joe was the kind Kylo made for you. The bastard.

“If only it were that simple.” You chew on your lip, the two of you finally approaching the company car that’s been waiting for you the whole time. “Do you want to stop anywhere on the way back to work? Part of me is dreading facing Holdo.”

“She’s called you three times.” Neisha winces, holding out your phone for you to take. You had to leave it behind before going back to see your client, and so of course you left it with her.

“Voicemail?” You almost are too afraid to ask, but you bite the bullet anyway.

“One.” She confirms, and you groan.

“Great.”

“Are you going to listen to it?” Neisha raises a brow while she watches you slip the phone into your purse, decidedly choosing to ignore it in favor of finding a better cup of coffee somewhere.

“No.” You chuckle, explaining, “We’ll be back soon enough, if she’s going to bitch at me, I want it to be in person where I can bitch back.”

“Maybe we can pick up lunch for everyone.” She suggests cheerfully, “No one can be too mad when you’re bringing them food.”

At just that moment, your stomach growls, and you cast a glance up to the sky wondering how you ever got so lucky to have a mind-reader as an assistant. She only smiles at you, and you smile back, letting her know, “I love the way you think.”

In the end, you decide to skip out on the rest of the day of work entirely. By the time you and your assistant had ordered and picked up food for the office, it was almost three o’clock, and you knew that there was no point in trying to get anything done when you had already been scheduled to leave at five. Mondays were a waste of time as it were, you decided you’d just go in early and stay late tomorrow to make up for the time.

Giving your assistant the rest of the day off too, you retreated back to your apartment and tugged your clothing off. You had a strict rule about keeping outside clothes away from your bedroom, and it was a relief to change into something less professional and far more comfortable. Not quite pajamas, because it was early enough in the day still and you weren’t completely giving up on the evening just yet, but still comfortable.

You wondered what Kylo would change into when he got home, wondered if he’d take a long hot shower, or a deep soak in the tub to scrub prison off of him. He hadn’t been there long, but it didn’t take long to shake a man up, even a man as tough as Kylo. Guilt ate at you inside, if only you hadn’t been so stubborn, and adamant in your misery to ignore the world…maybe you could’ve sweet talked the judge into letting him stay on house arrest or something.

If you hadn’t been so stubborn, maybe Kylo never would have gotten himself drunk and angry, driving around town and getting himself arrested. Not that you could really blame yourself for that, you were perfectly in your rights to be pissed off with him for winning against you. And if he was framed like he says he was, then they would have had a warrant for him anyway.

But still, it eats at you.

You groan, smacking a hand to your forehead – the DUI isn’t going to look good to a jury, not at all. Especially if the police think the murder happened that day, that was going to cause him trouble, and by extension, you. He needed to have a rock solid alibi, and as much as you hated it, if he was so plastered as to get pulled over, he might not remember where he was or what he was doing. That was going to give him trouble too.

Speak of the Devil, you can’t help but think, as your phone rings. You pick it up right on the second buzz, recognizing the caller ID and smiling to yourself about it.

“Kylo?” You say stupidly, because you know who it is. You just like to make sure, want to know that it’s him.

“Hey sweetheart, go outside.” He answers, and you frown, your heart-rate spiking.

“You have a key, let yourself in.” You scoot over on the couch enough to peek out through the living room window, looking down the ten stories to see his shiny black car indeed parked on the curb, flashers on.

“No, it’s just my car, we’re going out to dinner.” Kylo chuckles, and you frown.

“Right now?” It was barely half past four o’clock, it wasn’t even time for the early bird dinner specials yet at most of the diners around the block.

“Right now, put on something nice.” He instructs, before hanging up.

You blink in surprise for a few seconds, before springing into action. Curse that insufferable man! If only he could think far enough in advance to warn a woman before sending the car, you bounce the thought around in your head. You quickly brush your teeth while you step out of your sweatpants, tug the t-shirt over your head.

Wondering what the world record is for getting dressed for a surprise dinner date, you throw on something elegant, really dressing to the nines. Not having much time to do anything with your hair, you put it up in a style that you hope looks purposefully messy as opposed to just sloppy, and you clasp on subtle yet expensive jewelry.

You almost wish you had timed yourself as you spray a few squirts of perfume, slip on some heels and dash out the door, grateful for the fact that you live in an upscale enough apartment that you don’t have to worry about getting your shoes caught in the grates of a stairwell, taking the shiny polished elevator for a ride.

Kylo’s driver is waiting for you next to the car, and when he sees you, he straightens up his posture, squares his slim shoulders. The kid wasn’t more than nineteen or twenty, but he was nice, and you knew he was family, and it was always a pleasure to see him.

“Hi Dopheld, it’s been a while.” You smile at him as he opens the back door for you, giving you a hand to balance yourself as you securely settle in.

“Hey (Y/N), how have you been?” Dopheld is soft spoken and kind, a very gentle soul. How he manages to deal with Kylo’s road rage, you’ll never know, but you’re glad that it’s him picking you up and not his boss.

“Better than you I bet.” You chuckle as he closes the door and rounds the car. When he’s back in his driver’s spot and pulls out onto the road, curiosity gets the better of you so you ask, “Where are we going?”

“Del Frisco’s, you know Kylo.” Dopheld’s eye meets yours in the rearview mirror, and you let out an exasperated sigh.

“That man and his steak, oy.” You mutter to yourself with a roll of your eyes, admiring your reflection in the glass of the window.

“Well you can’t blame him, he’s been eating prison food for the past four days.” Dopheld shudders at the mere thought of it, and you sigh.

“He really was in there all weekend, huh?” You feel that guilt again, it rises like acid up into your throat.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know, it was all over the news.” Dopheld’s eyebrows raise, and you sigh.

“I uh,” You clear your throat, trying to find some way to not tell this kid that you threw something of a temper tantrum over losing your case, “I didn’t really pay much attention to anything these past few days.”

Somehow, even though you didn’t say it, Dopheld seems to know anyway.

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Del Frisco’s is a real swanky place just shy of Times Square, and undoubtedly one of Kylo’s favorite places to eat. He’s got a host of restaurants he likes, but there’s something about a well-cooked steak that can’t be beat, he’s told you this too many times. Just about every time he’s had a steak at Del Frisco’s, anyway. It’s a three story tall building, and a dress code, and if there was one thing Kylo loved more than steak, it was an excuse to put on his expensive suits, his nice shoes.

He hasn’t said so, but you have a sneaking suspicion he likes an excuse to see you all dolled up too, which is just what you are, as you step out of his car at five o’clock on that Monday in January, bundled up in a coat that you can’t wait to dramatically remove in front of him.

“I’m meeting a Mr. Ren.” You say quietly to the host, who recognizes both you and the name you give her at once.

“Right this way.” She invites you further into the restaurant, up a flight of stairs to a secluded corner of the floor that overlooks the main level.

Kylo stands when he sees you, looks utterly mesmerized by you. Good, you can’t help but feel pleased, you like the attention, like the way he gives it to you. He’s pulled out all the stops himself as it would seem; a custom tailored Gucci suit in rich brown, with deep green and burgundy stripes running down the length of it that makes him look impossibly taller than he is.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if all your teasing about his solid black suits day in and day out finally got through to him. He wears a beige turtleneck underneath for warmth, and his hair is smartly styled. You want to run your fingers through it, want to muss him up for all the trouble he puts you through.

“I like you better like this.” You say teasingly, playfully, “Orange isn’t your color.”

“I like you better like this too,” Kylo chuckles back, carefully slipping your fur coat off your shoulders, revealing the dress that hugs your body and shows off all the assets you’re proud of, “When you aren’t smacking me.”

“Don’t tempt me.” You smile, taking a seat opposite him at the small circular table.

“Thank you for coming.” Kylo says, and you roll your eyes.

“You didn’t give me much choice, did you?” You point out, he gave you no notice at all, no option to opt out, not that you would have.

Sitting across from you, you can feel the way his shiny polished dress shoe nudges up against your heel, a purposeful invitation that you pretend to ignore just to rile him up. You like getting him annoyed, just as much as he likes annoying you.

“No, but you do always have one.” Kylo pours you a glass of something bubbly, and hands it to you with a soft, “You look lovely.”

“I already agreed to take your case, Kylo, you don’t have to lay it on thick.” You shake your head, accepting the glass. He was so charming, too charming for his own good. This was how he wound up in situations like being charged for murder, that charm of his.

“Maybe I want to.” Kylo shrugs, “Maybe I missed complimenting you.”

“Go ahead then.” You lean back against the chair for a moment, your arms crossing over your chest, an eyebrow raised.

“I love when you wear this dress, your body is dynamite in it.” He settles on, “Makes my mouth water.”

“Are you sure that’s not just the steak talking?” You take a sip of the drink, and he groans in the back of his throat, ripping a piece of fresh bread off the loaf and dipping it into a small plate of oil.

“Remind me never to go to jail again.” He mutters, “Imagine spending the rest of your life there.”

“No thanks to you, too many of my clients don’t have to imagine, now do they?” That strikes a nerve in you, and you’re suddenly reminded of the way the last case really went down, the implications for that poor man, probably in Rikers himself for a crime he didn’t commit.

“Hey – ” Like lightning, Kylo reaches out and grabs your wrist, preventing you from getting up and leaving, afraid of you bolting away, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You blink, stunned.

“I’m sorry, I mean it.” He rushes to say, “I’m sorry. But you have to know that I’m only doing my job, when I do that. Same way that you do yours when you let guilty men walk free.”

It’s the first time he’s ever apologized to you…about anything. You’ve known him for years and years, and this is the first time he’s ever uttered those words. Jail must have really fucked with him, if he’s apologizing to you.

“I know, but it still sucks.” You eventually say, not moving your hand at all.

“Stay with me? Have dinner, I already ordered.” Kylo licks his lips, eyes dark, glittering.

“Most women don’t like you assuming their order.” You find it important to mention.

“You’re not most women.” He counters, and well, you can’t deny him that.

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Hours later he’s stumbling with you through the hallway of his apartment, kicking his shoes off and unclasping your gown desperately, kissing you deeply, his nose bumping against yours as he hungrily sucks on your tongue, hands groping at you. You lead him to the bedroom, your eyes closed, going off intuition alone.

It’s dark in the apartment, the lux lavish thing, rent probably four times what you pay for your already expensive place. No, knowing Kylo he owns the fucking penthouse, that’s just like him, isn’t it. You smack into a wall accidentally, and he laughs, and you laugh too, before you’re both moaning, trying with all your might to get into his bed.

“I’m not doing any of the fucking work tonight.” You gasp and moan against his mouth as he shoves you down onto the mattress, wrenches your legs open with his warm broad palms.

There’s a fireplace in his bedroom that he turns on with the press of a button, filling the room with an ethereal quality that bathes you both in an orange glow.

“When do you ever do any of the work?” Kylo grunts against your throat as he kisses down down down the length of your body, his hands kneading in the flesh of your thighs. You’re too desperate to come to snap back at the remark, so you let it slide, especially as he begins to shove two fingers into your cunt, thick and hot, “Let me take care of you, just take it, I know you can take it sweetheart.”

You squirm under the intrusion, too tight. Trying to relax for him, you breathe deeply, your voice shaky shuddery on the exhale. Already your toes are curling as you let your head fall back against his pillow, your back arching as he stretches you open, determined and focused to bring you pleasure, to get you ready for him.

Kylo sucks on your hip, at the spot where your thigh joins it, that crease there that he loves to run his tongue over over over, his thumb rubbing rough circles on your swollen clit. He pulls back enough to spit on it, right on your pussy, not that you need any help, you’re practically dripping for him.

“Kylo, fuck, forget it just give me your cock.” You grow impatient, shifting your hips around, nudging the side of his jaw with your knee when he leans up to look at you.

“You sure?” He’s transfixed with the sight of his own fingers disappearing into your folds, but he’s already pulling out, his cock hard and heavy, aching and throbbing for the hot wet tightness of your cunt.

“Yes I’m sure, just fuck me, fuck me hard?” You pat at his shoulder, and he nods, scrambles up your body and covers you like a blanket, warm and wide and strong. If he weren’t such a fucking asshole, you think you might like him.

But that’s not what this was, this was something you both agreed on a long time ago – a no strings attached arrangement, fucking out frustration and pent up aggression that otherwise was exploding all over the courtroom. This wasn’t anything more than an excuse to relieve some tension, since you two were the only people in your caliber, the only two you could trust to do it right and not mess anything up.

“I fuckin’ missed this pussy, missed the way she stretches for me, god you look so good getting stuffed full.” Kylo moans as he presses the head of his cock through your folds, chasing the heat.

Your pussy sucks him in, swallows him down as it clenches around him, your body thrumming with pleasure as he bottoms out in one swift thrust. You egg him on, throw your arms around his neck and pull him down close close close, your mouth open for him to kiss.

“Oh!” You gasp when he starts to thrust in earnest, grabbing the headboard for leverage as he rails you hard, “Yes, right there! Come on give me more!”

His dick drags against your gspot perfectly, and your legs lift to wrap around his waist, holding on to him tightly, your hands scratching up his shoulders. He is relentless, dangerous, dark with his desire as he makes your mind white out, makes your vision go spotty as he shakes shakes shakes the bed, the frame creaking and groaning under your sweaty bodies.

“Greedy whore, that’s what you are isn’t it? My greedy girl. I bet you missed my cock, didn’t you?” Kylo grunts, grabs a hold of your jaw with one of his hands and sticks his fingers in your mouth, leans down to kiss your cheek. He bites at it, bites at your face like an animal and you lose yourself in the pleasure of being so consumed.

“No,” You lie, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of knowing you got yourself off angrily to the thought of him, not wanting his ego to get any fucking bigger than it already did.

Kylo doesn’t buy it for one second, he licks up your cheek, licks away the sweat that drips down your temple, suckles it off of the dip in your throat, the space between your tits. He bites and sucks at your breasts as he fucks you hard, as he pushes you up up up the mattress, until you have to throw your hands against the headboard and push back down so you don’t smack your head.

“Bet you thought about it every fucking day like I thought about your tight cunt, damn you’re wet.” Kylo groans, his voice muffled as he buries his face between your cleavage, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside your pussy, the pleasure making your shoulders pinch in, your knees and thighs shake, body starting to convulse.

“I did not!” You lie lie lie, “Believe it or not but you don’t consume my every waking fucking thought, you know.”

“Don’t I?” Kylo pushes, drops a hand back down to your clit and brings you to the edge, painfully hot white sparks dancing through your nerves.

“No!”

“No?” His voice is dangerously sweet, charming, handsome. You hate him, fuck he’s so handsome.

“Fuck you – yes, okay! Yes!” You glare at him with a deep frown, frowning while he grins with all of his teeth, until your eyes are rolling back into your head and your toes curl and your body snaps up with tension as you come and come and come, “Oh yes, Kylo, yes right there, right there…!”

You let out a strangled shout of his name as your orgasm hits full force, and Kylo grins like the cat that got the cream as he comes inside you, collapsing down onto your chest. He’s too heavy though, and he knows that, he knows because you tell him all the time, so he rolls over to a spot that isn’t sticky, pulls you with him so you’re both resting on your sides.

Kylo doesn’t dare pull out, and if he gets his way, he won’t until morning. You’re too tired, too well fucked to challenge him about it, even though you know you really should go to the bathroom, at the very least.

You’re both breathing hard, heartbeats pounding together, until eventually, somehow, inevitably, your lungs and hearts sync up in a slow even rhythm, breathing in and out together in the quiet of the night. The fireplace flickers gently across from the bed, making shadows dance across Kylo’s face as he leans in to rub his nose against yours.

“Let me kiss you?” He whispers, a strange sort of vulnerability you don’t want to deny.

In the morning, you’ll grill him about everything that happened over the weekend, exactly what the charges against him are from, as much as he knows. In the morning, you’ll yell at him and hate yourself for taking on what is going to be probably one of the toughest cases of your career.

But for now, you shuffle as close to him as you possibly can and crane your head up to make up for the height difference from where your bodies are still joined, and kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him, until you both fall asleep.

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

Tagging some Kylo lovin' friends! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this story, please feel free to leave a comment or send an ask! :)

@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @groovetoob @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @cornmousequeen @theinfinitenerd @themeanestlittlewitch

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #kylo ren fanfic #adam driver fanfic #adcu #kylo ren smut #kylo ren angst #lawyer au #laywer!kylo ren #my writing #beyond reasonable doubt

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hotchley · 3 years

Note

Hey congrats on 500!!! Can I request 4 from fluff with Hotch x Hayley (romantically) please and thank you <3

Thank you! This was so much fun to do! It got a little dark for fluff, and there were a few references that I couldn't resist putting in, so I do apologise. It may read as bittersweet. Imagine canon never happens. Under 1.5k, unsure of the actual word count.

I wrote this in the car, I'm now on holiday, so the rest will probably have to wait and I probably won't be very active. I'll be back properly on Tuesday/Wednesday :)

If you're wondering where Haley's personality came from... it's me. Don't read into that please. (/hj)

4: "your hair is so soft!

Trigger Warnings: past child abuse, toxic mother in laws, toxic masculinity, discussions of sex (no actual sex), slight implications of pressure in regards to sex- generically, not between them

read on ao3!

Haley can't quite believe it.

She's married.

She's married to Aaron Hotchner. She's Haley Hotchner now. And she knows that names aren't everything, because she would still be herself regardless of her surname, and Aaron has proved that he loves her for what she is, not who she is, time and time again. But it's still a nice feeling.

To see her name written as Haley Hotchner. To whisper it to herself. She hopes that, in the highly unlikely- almost impossible- situation in which something goes horrifically wrong and they can't be together, that she will keep his name as a testament to the life they are going to build together.

As husband and wife. Because he's her husband now. And she's his wife.

It still hasn't sunk in. They did only get married a few hours ago, and they haven't even packed for the honeymoon yet, much to Jessica's horror, but they aren't leaving till the next weekend so they couldn't really pack. Not without running out of clothes. Although she's not sure how much she'd mind Aaron not being in clothes.

It'll probably hit when they move into their apartment. Theirs. It won't be their forever home. They can't afford that yet. Their apartment is going to be in Seattle, because that's where Aaron is going to be sent, and Haley likes the school so they don't need to consider other options (thank goodness.) Their forever home is going to be in Quantico. They already know the house.

It's the one they saw whenever they went back to their own homes during the holidays. The one filled with laughter and light and love. It's beautiful. And the couple that live there know them, because Aaron stopped to help them get their cat down from a tree. But that's all too far into the future. Because when they hopefully move there, it'll be with the thought of their own family. And for now, she just wants to enjoy being his.

Jessica thinks she's being silly, to pin this much on what is essentially a piece of paper that gives them tax benefits, but Haley, being the youngest, sees it differently. Her parents respect each other, but they don't love each other. Not in the way they're meant to. And Aaron's parents only ever served as an example of the depths of the human capacity for hatred.

Her and Aaron love each other. In a way that is kind and gentle and respectful. In a way that is peaceful. In a way that will carry on until they're both no longer here. They love each other in the way that both sends the world spinning and slows everything down. In a way that will break the cycles of their families.

They've had it easier than some, but harder than most. She only hopes it's not all for nothing.

The sound of the bathroom door opening pulls her from her thoughts. She had assumed that her and Aaron would go straight to her apartment after the reception- she doesn't have a roommate anymore- but his mother had surprised them with a room at the fancy hotel. She would never apologise for the way she had treated Haley when they first became serious, or the way she spoke to Aaron at times, but it was something. And for that, Haley was grateful.

"Well hello there, my handsome husband," she says, unable to fight the urge.

Aaron flushes, just as brightly as he had at seventeen, and she smiles. It's just as cute. "I- hi, wonderful wife."

He's showered and changed out of his suit, just like she'd changed out of her dress. She's glad he's simply wearing sweatpants and his law school hoodie, because after wearing a dress for several hours, she couldn't bear the thought of anything other than her cotton mismatched pajamas.

Aaron's staring at her with such love and adoration in his eyes that she almost can't handle it. It's a look he only gives her when they're alone, and she likes that. It's almost like their own secret language. She smiles and laughs a little when he looks down, almost like he too can't quite believe how far they've come.

"So are you going to keep hovering there like some sort of creepy serial killer, or are you going to come and join me?" She asks.

Aaron blinks, then perches on the edge of the bed. She huffs.

"Aaron, we shared a bed when we were seventeen. It's wasn't a mistake then, so it can hardly be wrong now we're married," she says.

"Right, yeah sorry, I just-" he stops talking, suddenly afraid he's said too much. He doesn't move.

Haley sits up and moves next to him. "Just what?"

"I don't want to have sex tonight," he blurts out. His cheeks immediately flush again.

"Oh thank god, I thought you were about to say you wanted to get an annulment." Haley's not joking.

"You're not mad?"

"Honey, why would I be mad?"

"Well, everyone at work always talks about how they had- you know- on the night of their wedding, and how it was so good, and I thought you might think I was a freak if I didn't want to."

She wraps her arms around him, realising a second too late she didn't ask. He relaxes into her touch, and she uses that as her unspoken cue to shift even closer.

"Well, everyone at work always talks about how the first time was not fantastic and often awkward, so clearly someone is lying. But in all seriousness, I would never think you're a freak for not wanting to. We have the rest of our lives to do that. And if you never want to, that's okay too. I love you."

He kisses her forehead. "Love you too. Mrs Hotchner."

"I just had a terrible thought. Your mother is Mrs Hotchner."

The look of horror on Aaron's face is almost comical. "Don't ever remind me of that again."

"I won't. Are you up for cuddling and whatever is on at this time, or did you just want to sleep?" She asks.

"Sure, maybe we'll find something half-decent."

The lie down as they always have, with his head on her shoulder and her legs thrown over his. It's a strange position, but it works for them. As they settle on an episode of something called Dharma and Greg- Haley makes a note of the title because she wants to tape it, but Aaron denies any suggestion that he looks like Greg- she starts to run her hands through his hair.

Almost immediately, she finds a knot. He has the decency to look down.

"I was going to do it."

"Mhm."

"Hay, I just really hate brushing my hair. It takes so long, and it's so inconvenient and-"

"Give me your brush."

Aaron knows better than to ask her how she knows he even has one with him, and silently brings it over. She pushes him to kneel in front of the bed, sitting behind him and gently combing through his hair, only applying more force when she comes across a particularly stubborn knot.

Nobody's ever treated him with such care before. Haley knows that nobody ever taught Aaron how to brush his hair in a way that would prevent knots, so she won't judge him. She'll just calmly guide him as best she can. That's all anyone can do.

He's falling asleep by the time she finishes.

"Your hair is so soft!" She exclaims, as she runs her hand through it again, this time not coming across a single knot.

"It's all thanks to you," Aaron says.

Haley ruffles it, and it falls onto his forehead. He pouts, but she grins because she loves when his hair falls onto his face like that. It makes him look younger. More like the man she loves than the fierce agent most people know or the excellent prosecutor a few people remember.

She kisses him, and he smiles against her like he always does. And then she pulls him into the bed, and they fall asleep in each other's arms, excited for the greatest adventure of their lives.

#hotchley's 500 #hotchley #tw past child abuse #cw sex discussion #tw toxic masculinity

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llendrinall · 3 years

Note

Hi I have a writing promt.

A story that is written from both pov's that shows Draco and Harry falling in love with each other. Little moments together where they fall a bit more in love. Things they do that make the other thing "Wow I'm so in love with him". Ect.

Harry had always been starkly aware of Draco, but it was after the war, in the Wizengamot, when he actually noticed him for the first time.

Draco was sitting next to Pansy Parkinson, holding her hand so tight that he was leaving white marks. Harry got a glimpse of them when Pansy was called to give her testimony.

Then the unthinkable happened. Instead of demurring, which she was allowed to do –was expected by everyone to do, was what every other member of a Death Eater family had done so far– Pansy answered all the prosecutor’s questions. She gave true testimony and denied her parents the imperius defence.

Draco was waiting for her when she came down from the stand. He grabbed her hand and led her away with measured steps so it wouldn’t look like they were running.

The second time Harry noticed Draco like that, as a person rather than as an opponent, was, coincidentally, the first time Draco saw Harry as Harry. Not as a school enemy or a war enemy or The Boy Who Lived or The Saviour Of The Wizarding World. Not even as Harry Potter. He saw Harry as just Harry.

It probably helped that Harry was unrecognizable under a thick layer of soot and grime so Draco didn’t know who he was calling an idiot. Draco also yelled to stop immediately and step back and, miraculously, Harry did. No hesitance.

Not all Death Eater had been arrested and not every awful individual had joined Voldemort, which meant that there were plenty of terrible people out in the world. Someone, Death Eater or not, had attacked Wisteria House. The house where rescued and freed house-elves were hosted.

Draco understood that the house-elves weren’t the goal. They were just the bait, a cheap collateral. The point of the attack was to have someone (maybe Harry, most probably Granger), cross the door quickly, without looking around them, and walk straight into a deathly trap.

Draco saw the trap, called out a warning and Harry listened. He listened to Draco.

Both of them walked away with a different opinion of the other. No one comes out the same from a burning building.

The third time went like this.

“Occupied.”

“Je- Blimey!”

“Find your own corner in the shadows to hide, Potter. This one is mine.”

“I don’t have time to find another spot.”

“Too bad. W- wait! No, quit it!”

“Scoot over! We can share.”

“No, we can’t. This is my dark spot, go away.”

“Either we share or I make sure they find you too.”

“As if I care. I’m not hiding from your devotees. Go away.”

“It’s Clay Buckthorn.”

“… be quiet, then.”

They hid in there for an hour, talking in whispers and sharing a bottle of butterbeer, while Secretary Buckthorn, the most persistent and insufferable politician to ever crawl out of the Ministry, looked around for a popular face to join his campaign. They were about to leave when in came Rita Skeeter, pressuring Percy Weasley to answer her questions. They watched from the shadows as she pressed and cajoled and he resisted. It was a bit like watching some sort of fight sport, only after ten minutes they weren’t sure who they were supporting.

Harry thought Draco was dating Pansy Parkinson and maybe he still was. Evidently, it was all for show. No need to read so much into it.

There was this old witch complaining about tradition and values. Nothing no one hadn’t heard before many times. People these days had no respect, it was disgraceful and so on. But then she turned to Dennis Creevey and his boyfriend (some Slytherin kid, Harry didn’t know him), and she asked if their families weren’t ashamed of them. Two men together. They ought to be.

Harry wasn’t sure if she knew about Dennis’ brother or not. It was hard to believe that people could be so deliberately cruel to a stranger. The question stopped him from immediately jumping to her neck. He had been accused of blowing things out or proportion before. And by before, he meant that morning when he called out that rude shopper who cut the line before a goblin.

Meanwhile, Draco rolled his eyes in that magnificent way of his. For someone who acted so proud and proper, Draco had a very expressive face and the rolling of his eyes was a spectacle to behold. He stood from his table, grabbed Theo Nott by the lapels, and kissed him on the mouth long and hard right in the middle of the crowded restaurant. Afterwards he sat down, perfectly composed, and both Theo and him turned to look at the witch like the smuggest pair of snakes in the forest.

The witch left the restaurant soon after. Dennis lost the wretched look on his face and Harry paid the bill on Draco’s table, earning a nod from him on the way out.

The day Draco’s heart began to beat a different rhythm was a hot Thursday in summer and someone had tried to kill him.

It wasn’t a particularly well thought attack and Draco took precautions. He wouldn’t have gotten anything worse than an intense headache and maybe some sore muscles. Still, Harry felt the need to push him to the floor and shield him with his body from the sparks and shrapnel falling over them. Harry had stopped the hex in mid-air, which was admittedly impressive. Draco watched the purple rivulets of the failed curse slowly descending around them and wondered if he was in shock. That would be embarrassing. This clumsy attack on his life didn’t deserve any shock.

Harry jumped from him (so nimble!) and chased down the would-be murdered, on foot, like a muggle. He, he just ran down the street, didn’t even cast a spell until he caught up to him and brought him to the floor. Draco was sorry to miss that part, although there were very good pictures on the newspaper the next day. Harry looked amazingly heroic. One of the pictures had him jumping in mid-air.

Draco didn’t know if this was something Harry did for everybody or if it was just for him, nor did he care. His chest and stomach and… other parts, were confused enough about how to feel, and his heart, in particular was beating to a new tune.

So Draco could make moving shadows to play stories and it was amazingly beautiful and Harry loved it, he loved it, and no, it was not the potion talking, he was perfectly sound of mind. St Mungo was about to let him go! But Draco had come visit him and when Harry complained about being dreadfully bored, Draco had put on this absolutely magical spectacle (yes, Harry knew they were both wizards, it was still magical; no, no potion talking, it was an honest opinion). In the end Harry stayed the night, just like the mediwitch had begged him to, and fell asleep with the shadows performing a dance before him.

Draco didn’t call it love because he was quite an obstinate young man, but he was at that stage where he would easily admit that he was willing to lay down his life for Harry. He only had trouble with the word, not with the sentiment itself and its manifestation.

They were at the Ministry. It should be a pretty simple and straight-forward process. Go in, Pansy signs the documents, Draco bears witness and signs his own documents, go out. But of course it wouldn’t be so simple. A pretty pureblood witch doing anything against her family was a spectacle. The press wanted photos, people wanted to see it live, and, of course, there was the ever present mob who just wanted to shout awful things. Usually Pansy dealt with the mob by herself, swiftly and with a sting.

But today was different, hence why Draco had informed Pansy he would be accompanying her before she could ask him to. It wasn’t like the day she gave her testimony, but it was close enough. In a way, it was worse. A year ago they had her testimony to think about. Today it was just signing a document. That could hardly distract them from the crowd waiting for them.

A push. A yelp. A crash. And Harry Potter gallantly preventing a very old wizard from having a huge flower vase fall on top of him. Somehow, Harry didn’t cast protego in time, so he avoided being brained by the vase but was splashed by the water and stood completely drenched in the middle of the Ministry main hall.

Across the mass of curious people and reporters and workers and people who had come to shout awful things, Harry looked at Draco. He gave him A Look. If he had more time, Draco would stop and think of a suitable metaphor for Harry’s eyes, their colour and intensity. But he didn’t, so he grabbed Pansy by the elbow and together they crossed the hall without the crowd noticing. Everyone’s attention was naturally fixed on the way the Saviour of the Wizarding World’s wet clothes clung to his chest.

Afterwards, once he had seen Pansy safely (and discreetly) home, Draco went to find Harry. He was perfectly dry now, but he had a faint scent of flowers around him.

“The rose garden is lovely in June,” Draco said, which should be enough but of course Harry didn’t understand him. Harry was kind, brave, handsome and clever in the most useless way so Draco had to actually explain, with words, that Weasley and Granger must have realize by now the extent of their fame and what it would mean if they married at the Burrow, where anyone could break in. Hence, why Draco mentioned his lovely rose garden where they could get married if they chose to without anyone invading their privacy.

“Hermione’s extended family is muggle.” Harry said, and dear Merlin it was even worse than Draco thought. They were going to pick a muggle place. So not only people breaking in, but a violent attack against the muggles too. Just what you want for a wedding.

“The Malfoy family marries for power, not blood purity.” Draco explained in a whisper. “There is no repello muggletum in our houses.”

“What!?” Harry cried, drawing immediate and sharp attention to them so they had to leave quickly and find a quiet place where Draco explained that Grandmother Imogen –that is, Lucius Malfoy’s mother– was a muggle but, most importantly, a peer of the Realm.

Harry stood in shocked silence for a minute, and after a lot of “whats” and “hows” and “no, really, how could you join Voldemort?” he accepted to at least extend Draco’s offer to the happy couple.

Draco said he didn’t plan on attending the wedding. Just because he was offering his summer house it didn’t mean he expected an invitation. He got one anyway, because Draco had showed them his summer house and two country houses belonging to his muggle cousins and was very careful not to mention Malfoy Manor at any point. Ron appreciated it even more than Hermione.

He rejected the invitation anyway because he said he much preferred to sit by the gates and send stinging hexes to anyone trying to intrude. It was his one chance to curse people indiscriminately and he didn’t want to waste it.

He showed up later, during the reception, looking handsome and with a pleased smile on his face. He grabbed a glass of champagne, immediately transformed it from a flute to a pompadour without wasting a drop, and sat himself next to Aunt Muriel whom he proceeded to engage in a long and acrid dispute until Ron and Hermione had left. Dear Aunt Muriel didn’t get a chance to insult the bride, or the groom, or any of their families really.

It was right then, while Draco forged a lifelong enemy (her life, not his) by insulting her garden (how did he know so much about flowers), that Harry realized he was in love. He was in love. He was in love. He wanted to be with Draco and insult people together and scandalize prejudiced old bats until they themselves were old bats.

Harry picked up a fight with the officiant (to be fair, that comment about the goblins was very unfortunate) and they ended up getting married at a muggle register’s office and Draco was so, so, happy. His family was obviously displeased. Cousin Nerissa said that her fiancée could officiate and was very offended when Fred Weasley said no one wanted to be married by a man named Cuthbert. It was amazing. George Weasley sat next to Cousin George, the baron. Hermione and Ginny Weasley started a fight with the most traditional-minded relatives (from every side). Cousin Audrey came out to the family when she was caught propositioning Luna Lovegood. Pansy Parkinson got engaged to no less than three lords and said they could sort between themselves who got to marry her.

Draco was so in love. It was amazing.

#asks #verse:finding common ground and falling in love #what is it with flute glasses anyway #it's impossible to find pompadours these days #harry potter #draco malfoy #Anonymous #textpost

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summoner-chan · 3 years

Text

✨⭐[幸せな4周年!/Happy 4th Anniversary!]⭐✨

4⭐ Ose came home today with the FIRST ticket and I've never been so happy!! I've been wanting his 4⭐ for so long now and now that I've gotten it, I started writing a self indulgent fic of Summoner-chan using up the Platinum Lil Salomon card just for Ose! Hope everyone enjoy reading it!

Hurried footsteps echoed lightly through the halls, almost resembling like an excited child awaiting their gift under the tree when it was Christmas morning. The brunette couldn't help but giggle and grin with joy, gripping the single card in between her fingers. The thought of surprising her favourite familiar made her heart blossom with flowers, butterfies swooning in her stomach. The short female hastened her steps more, eager of seeing the therian clad in a white suit

The leopard was idling by the garden, the various plants and flowers from otherworldly realms made him felt that he had visited the realm just by looking at them. Truly, it gave him a sense of serenity and tranquility. Being a triple agent was certainly thrilling but exceptionally exhausting to say the least, though, he didn't expect to have become one of the familiars of the very infamous guild master and her guild, Hanasaki Abuto of The Summoners

And he certainly and absolutely didn't expect to be tackled from behind as a loud cry of his name soared into his ears, their arms wrapped around his midsection and as the grip tightened at every second. His suave smile grew even wider as he very well knew who it was before looking over his shoulder only to be greeted with brown orbs glittering in the sunlight, a toothy grin that was accompanied by the giggles slipping through her lips

The fem eased her grip as she let the therian turns his body to face her, diving her face into his broad chest and having to earn a light chuckle out of him. Large diamond spotted hands caressed the cheek of his beloved summoner, his heart swelling with adoration as she leaned more into his touch before placing her small gentle hands on his own, her dazzling smile seemed to pull him more into the dangerous game called love. He had his fair share of affections but not as strongly as he felt towards the young lady

"My, my, boss. You seemed to be such in a good mood while being even more cuter today. Has a miracle happened while you dear handsome familiar was away?" The leopard therian cooed, a surge of pride coursed through his veins when his green eyes caught up to the reddening hues of her features. Now that he had taken a great look of her face, he noticed that the usual full lips was glossed and it was slightly tinted, marvelously enhancing the natural colour and it went gorgeously well with her sun kissed skin.

Oh how ironic it was that he was granted with such a heavenly view despite being a creature from the depths of Gehenna. He wholly welcomed the gift that whatever ethereal beings had given to him, whether it be the Gods of the Heavens or the Devils of the Hells or maybe it was mix of the two but either way, he's not complaining of it. The sight of a card adorned with the lines of gold covered his field of vision before having it lowered, the young lady peaking through as if to see his reaction

It seemed to be that his summoner had recently got a handful of Platinum Lil Salomon tickets as she calls it, from what she had enthusiastically explained to him before, it had the ability to summon a familiar of their own choice, even summoning to an even powerful and stronger variant of the familiar. The male didn't considered himself special or eye catching compared to the other familiars she had on her team like for example, the butler from the Ikebukuro Berserkers and the prosecutor from the Rule Makers as both had evolved into their highest form unlike him, who has still yet to be given the opportunity of having the privilege of such

A feeling had wormed through its way into his heart, a feeling that he tried to extinguish but the leopard had underestimated its untamed fire, rivaling to even the fire that spawned in the lowest pit of Gehenna. The notorious feeling that could sever, crush and erase bonds like no other was jealousy. The man would rather lop his head off than let his charming, collected and flirtatious image to be stained with jealousy, no, he wasn't going to submit and surrender to it so easily without battling the wretched emotion with all his might

The therian closed his eyes and hummed as if in thought as he had guessed that she was going to use it to summon more variants or get the same kind to increase the strength for the other two companions but went along using a trick up his sleeve. "Looks like your devilish familiar is a bit clueless today, boss. Mind enlightening me who's the lucky man who's going to be summoned?" said the spy. The brunette's smile was replaced with a pout, her brows furrowed as she let out a huff and her hand was quick to playfully smack the therian's chest before the male breath out a small 'ouch' from the attack

"You're really going to make a girl say it first?..." Oh? Well that's new. Make a girl say it first? What in the world did his summoner was going to say? The fem felt like she was shrinking under the gaze of her familia who turned quiet and merely was waiting for her answer by the looks of it. Oh how she wanted the ground to swallow her up whole, sadly, miracles don't happen that often so she's left with to deal with her own embarrasment. Her gaze was anywhere else than gazing into those hypnotizing green eyes, resembling to a precious mineral stone that she adored, emerald

Clearing her throat, the fem raised the fancy card up, using it as a shield to block her blushing face and to avoid looking at her own familiar to save herself from the embarrassment. The card slowly started to glow, the colours shifting from red to green to grey before settling down with purple. As the card glowed, the image of the goat transient that was on it, too, changed as well, morphing entirely into another transient. The image swirled vigorously and the glow grew brighter and brighter, the therian having to squint his eyes from the light. With a loud shing, the purple mysterious glow faded and turned into mist, covering the pair as the wind picked up and blew it all away gently

The choice of the summoning has been done, now all the summoner of the card have to do is to cast the card, just like summoning familiars from the App (Gacha). The fem was shaking with anticipation and nervousness, the silence of her familiar was eating her away, was he not happy that he was chosen? "Boss" The sudden call made the therian's summoner jumped at the sound of her addressment, pulling the card closer to her face as she let out a shaky hum as an answer of his call. "Don't be like that... Won't you see your darling familiar's face, boss..?" The brunette bites down her lip when the side of her face was fanned with hot, long, breaths of air. Large calloused hands were placed on her waist, sliding down agonizingly slow before resting themselves on the hips, thumbs drawing circles on the clothed area

A gasp had slipped through, the fem's voice quivering when the therian placed his lips on the unprotected skin of her neck, easing his way up while leaving soft kisses on the flushed flesh, soft pants were also induced from the mere action. "Still not budging, I see? How admirable of you to stand your ground after that stunt I pulled, boss. Though...I doubt that you'll last after this one" With a lick of his lips, his resting hands started to move down further, inching closer and closer to his beloved summoner's backside. Just as he was about to reach, the young lady let out a squeal of surrender, her hand tapping on his white clad shoulder as the other still held on to the card

"I'll look at you! I'll look at you! Just- You're going to make me overheat from all of that..!" Chuckling, the male swiped the card away from her fingers, the young lady letting out a strangled 'hey!' before quickly shutting up when the leopard placed a firm hold of her waist, their faces undeniably close. "Not so hard isn't it, boss? You could have listened to me sooner but, ah, alas you caused your own downfall, didn't you?" The leopard donned in the suit said teasingly, sending out a wink into the fem's direction

"Now there's must be a reason of why you chose me, say boss?" His only response was silence, his summoner batting her eyelashes at him, putting on the 'I don't know what you're talking about' look. Most of her friends and familiar were all too knowing of this look, the girl being a terrible liar while being blatantly obvious that she was hiding something. With the rule that the therian had, he had already seen through her, completely capable of seeing the answer that he looked for but the leopard wanted to hear it from her own very lips instead, it's more fun teasing and irking out the answer rather than by using that Rule of his.

"I w-wanted to summon that Red Oni!"

"Didn't you already have him, boss?"

"I-uh! w-wanted you to be stronger!"

"How nice of you to think of me boss but that's not entirely it isn't it?"

"You said that you wanted evolve right!! Then I took the chance and used the card for you!!"

"Indeed I do but there's no reason for you to willingly do so when you have other tons of familiar befitting of the card. Unless you have something important to tell me..?"

"Urk!.."

The brunette whined, all of her lies were cut down by the statements and questiones that her familiar dropped down on her. There's no more room to run to anymore, she's cornered and the truth is begging to be told, her heart leaping out from her chest from the frenzied situation. The summoner's lips moved but the sound of the words were extremely dimmed and it came out as a muttering to herself, fingers fiddling with the hem of her school jacket. The reaction from her is truly priceless! The male's sensitive ears took note of the words she just said but there's no way he's going to miss the opportunity to tease her more, filling up the desire to take her right then and there from the cute reactions she's giving

The leopard placed his hand behind his ear and leaned down, his signatures smirk on display for the world to see "Hmm? I couldn't hear what you said, boss. Mind repeating that for me?" The young lady started to stutter and trip on her words, all of this amused the therian that embraced her. Her hands reaching up to her face before cupping them, eyes shut and brows furrowed, the blush on her face was apparent "Because I love you, alright!" Yes, the answer that he was finally waiting for, the confession of her love to him. Before all of this event happened, the leopard therian had gotten his answer just by glancing to the cheery summoner of his when they hugged him. Their confession of love was written all over them

Ose figured his summoner had enough of his teasings, gently pulling her hands that cupped her face, his expression softened when the girl looked up to him with the same brown orbs that he stared into when he was summoned. The therian came nearer to his summoner, the space between them no more as two figures melded into one, lips pressed with one another, the summoner's eyes widen in shock before fluttering them close before kissing him back with the same fervor he's giving to her

The therian pulled away reluctantly, his sense of thought chipped when a soft moan of his name reached his ears, quickly regaining back his thoughts as he pressed another kiss on her temple. For now, the silence between them was all he needed. The love that was kept away in his heart blossomed, dancing with joy and happiness as the sun shone on to the waves and bid the flowers goodbye before another beacon of light replaced it, which was the Moon. The spy planned on returning the feelings that his summoner had for him in another different way but this was sufficient for him too, he guessed

Hoho! Quite lengthy than I expected to be honest but still happy with it!! I hope that everyone is having fun with the Anniversary!! Summoner-chan, signing off!⭐

✨⭐[幸せな4周年!/Happy 4th Anniversary!]⭐✨

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somnolancee · 4 years

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The Prosecutor's Recipe by Maya Fey

[So basically this text is in French, so sorry for the bad English]

French Version HERE

"-And hello my little love is Maya Fey and today I'm accompanied by my most faithful assistant- -Maybe you want to tell me what the hell you're doing here? -Roh Nick, you're ruining my whole recipe here! Shut up and listen to me!"

With those words, she hit him with her wooden spoon.

"- OWN ! Are you crazy? -That's for breaking my delirium!"

She cleared her throat.

"-AHEM! So I said! -You were saying... -Today I'll show you the Prosecutor's recipe! -The recipe of the...Prosecutor?"

The psychic proudly brandishes his wooden spoon, almost hitting Nick again.

"-You all want to look like our beautiful Prosecutors! I SEE IT IN YOU! -Just Maya, who have you been talking to since earlier? -NICK!"

He hid under the counter.

"-Okay, sorry, I get it! -The Prosecutor's recipe. So it's very simple! -And why not the Lawyer's Recipe, it sounds better and it's double-sided. -But Nick being a lawyer isn't a dream. Just look at you. -How's that? -Duh ! You're too trite, not even a little original. -Hey! My haircut then?!? -Yeah."

Maya looked him straight in the eye and sighed before she knew it.

"-So, to be a great prosecutor like Mr Edgeworth or Mr Godot, all you have to do- -Hate me already. -EXAC-TELY! -Thank you, Maya. Friendship reigns here..."

She ignored his remark, way too far into her recipe.

"-You have to have the ACCESSORY that does it all! -Like, for example...? -Oh well, I don't know, a mask... a whip and... a nice face... -A beautiful face is subjective... -And above all, my little ones, follow my recipe or you'll risk getting a Payne or a Manfred Von Karma. -Ouch, I'm taking note of your recipe so... -Then, find the NICKY replicas. -Yeah, to better break down the lawyer... -Nick, you're finally getting the hang of this faster than I thought.... -I'll take that as a compliment coming from you..."

Maya clapped her hands.

"-Now let these ideas simmer slowly. -I can't believe it, you've really gone too far in your delusion. -You've got no sense of humor, Nick! -Humor's subjective, you know... -Once you've got your ideas, you have to put them into shape! -I'm really scared... -Are you more handsome cold-brown or a broken-hearted murderer?"

She had a look full of innuendo.

"- Uh Maya, you're scaring me, you know that? -Let's go with a mix of the two, namely a handsome cold-blooded murderer! -Why do I feel like I'm having deja vu...? -Nick, your Pros', do you want it colorful or monochrome? -Well, I don't know, let's bring some color into this world..."

With a simple gesture, the young woman took out a whole bunch of jars: Dyes, glitter, glazes... A real rainbow!

"-Maybe I should have gone for the Monochrome myself... -Let's blow up the color! -Aaaah! But Maya didn't have to empty all the jars into the bowl. -Nick, I want to make you a prosecutor BY FAITH! Better too much than too little, remember? -I wanted a basic lawyer, but... -Evidently, you have to give him a NAME! So, Nick, what are you going to call your prosecutor ? -Well, uh... -Woenix Phright? -Are you serious? How are your ankles? Are they okay? -Get me a name, then, "Maya the Great Chef."

She started thinking.

"-Hmmm, I know! Inch Edgebest ! -Huh...? Really? -Or Euroziska Von Chakra? -Maya... -OH or Looseton Pain ! -This isn't funny. -You're just not receptive to my legendary sense of humor. -So what's next? -Let it rest again and you've got your great prosecutor ready! -Haven't you forgotten some steps here? -DO YOU DARE QUESTION MY RECIPE? -N-No...! I didn't say sorry!"

She gave him a smile.

"-I prefer that."

She turned to face the "void".

"-And here are my little cabbage puppies, my great recipe is available on the site Marmitruite, so do not hesitate to test at home! -And when cooking, do not confuse the degrees Celsius with Farhenheit... -Here's FINALLY some good advice, Nick! -Common sense above all... -On this Nick and I give you big kisses, and if you have an OBJECTION don't hey- Nick why are you pointing your index finger at the void? -Oops, that's the "Objection" that just went off. -You're unbelievably unbelievable..."

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #maya fey #fanfiction

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sunsiac · 5 years

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Can I request #4 with either Jeonghan from SVT or Mark from Got7?

Hi, of course! I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope you like this :)

#4: “letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

pairing: lawyer!jeonghan x prosecutor!reader

group: SEVENTEEN

word count: 2.1k

summary: everyone lives their life in black and white until they meet their soulmate. you, with possibly the shittiest luck on earth, have always had to be the one to sit back and listen to people ramble about the colours of the world. all you have is a small tint of colour in the bottom corner of your left eye, from a past court session, you think. but, you’ve given up on trying to figure out how that works at this point. and, you were planning on keeping it that way, at least until one particular trial gave you a reason not to.

–

“I never knew how bright blue was!”

You’d heard this sentence more times than you thought you could count, closely paired with things like ‘green is so nice to look at’ or ’pink is really cute, sort of frilly’ But, you’d always have to be the one to politely explain that you didn’t understand, because hadn’t found your soulmate; at least, not yet.

You were 24 years old when you’d finally decided that you’d had enough. You’d searched far and wide for your soulmate, but still had to listen to an eighteen year old tell you about how beautiful the colours of the world were with a smile on your face? You definitely enjoyed hearing the experiences at first, but after a while, it became similar to your own personal hell.

So, you decided to dedicate your life to a job that handled the misfortunes that came with soulmates. The greying vision, the cheating, everything that made you feel like maybe you weren’t exactly alone in your struggle after all.

He, however, was the opposite.

He liked the idea of soulmates, he liked what came with it, but he wasn’t in any rush to find them. ‘if they’re really my soulmate, they’ll find me first.’ he’d always thought. Besides, he figured that actually graduating law school first was much more important at that time, anyway.

So, after a while, he just learned to disregard the possibility of finding his soulmate, the monochromatic vision he possessed no longer bothering him.

At least, until they caught eyes years later, the pair acting as training officers standing behind their mentors in the courtroom. They were both just approaching 26 when they caught the slight glimpse of each other. But, unknowingly, they were both left with only fragments of colour afterwards. Hers in the bottom corner of her left eye, and his in the bottom corner of his right.

They both had failed to come up with an excuse to disregard the small colour of puddle that had appeared in their vision, and gave their all in trying to figure out just who in the world had put it there. But, when neither of them could figure it out, they had to give up.

They had both been in their respective fields now for at least a couple years, the both of them going on 29 already. But, this time, it was the both of them worrying about their soulmate.

'what in the world are they doing?’ was a consistent thought for both of you. You were dreading the day when you were truly out maxed by everyone around you, and with each passing day, you knew that reality was getting closer. And now, he was the same. He dreamed of his soulmate, his second sense of vision flooding with colour as he slept. But your face was always blocked out, leaving him to find out who you were for himself. It made him restless, ad even more eager to find out your identity.

But he was ready to take on the challenge.

The both of you, even while being busy in your respective fields, barely spent time at home. Any time that you weren’t cooped up doing work was time to go out and enjoy yourselves with the potential of finding your soulmate. But you were too logical in that sense; fate doesn’t work like that.

But only until that day did you realise this.

It started out as any other case would; arriving ten minutes before starting point, your feet dragging slightly from the inevitable late night you’d spent overviewing your portion of the crime, and having a polite conversation with whoever else you happened to be seated with. Those ten minutes came and went as normal, until the sound of the gavel rang out, signifying that the trial was about to start.

So, with even looking up, you grabbed your notes and fixed your robe, ready to begin. You squinted across the room, trying to loosely size up your opponent. Having forgotten your glasses on the bathroom sink and neglected to put in your contacts before rushing out the door that morning, you couldn’t see much but the outline of a man with light blonde hair. But, you didn’t think much of your lapse in eyesight, seeing as you could argue all the same.

This trial was formed based on the accusations that a man had begun to abuse his soulmate, but she had no way to prove it. Your intel told you that she was a naturally muscular woman, being a kick boxer, so even if she did appear to have any bruises or physical damage of any kind, it was the type that could easily be played off. But, you weren’t there to pick sides; you never were, after all.

But, seeing her sitting down from across the room, even being able to make out the faint purple and red marks on her face and arms, you didnt really know what to think. You turned your head to the crowd after a few seconds, curious. If her soulmate really had been abusing her, would they be in this crowd?

You did a once over of the crowd, but thanks to your lack of sight, couldn’t find much out of the ordinary. You would rather not be involved in a situation like that anyway. But as you looked back at your papers, you reminded yourself that even if they were somewhere in the crowd, it didn’t matter for you. After all, you were trying to prove the woman’s claims as false.

“Please rise,”

You finally looked up, your thoughts automatically clearing at the phrase that had been drilled into your head. Standing straight, you clasped your hands together and listened to the judge give a preliminary statement before telling each side to begin stating their cases.

The lawyer you were facing stood up first, seizing the opportunity to give his side of the story first.

“My client and her soulmate met 3 years ago,” He began, making his way around his portion of desk. “Since then, she has done 6 consecutive years of indoor kick boxing, and has even gone on to play in national competitions,”

You saw him turn to you, but he was still fuzzy, so you didn’t try to push yourself at all.

He looked down at the papers in his arms before turning to the jury. “A woman who has won first place in many of these competitions would be hard to put down by anyone that wasn’t her soulmate,”

A few people in the crowd let out uncomfortable sighs. You was having a hard time keeping one in yourself, as you saw his point.

“If you love someone, or if you have this kind of physical- no, mental connection with them, it’s hard to deny even things you aren’t comfortable doing,” The lawyer said, turning back to the judge.

“1 month ago she was admitted into the hospital with 3 broken ribs and assorted bruising on her neck. While meanwhile, she hadn’t taken part in any competitions in that past month nor had she attended any sort of practice or meeting regarding the sport,” He said, referring to the dates that were probably written on the papers he carried, “I am proposing that this man gets 2 years jail time, under part II of the soulmate act of 2034,”

The court room was silent, before the judge nodded.

“Thank you. Next, please,” He said, waving in your general direction. As you stood up, the lawyer went to sit back down. You caught a better view of his hair as you switched spots, though, finally able to clearly see a part of him for a moment.

he’s probably handsome.

“Her last official meet took place a month and a half ago, and while she had no injuries at that point, it’s a proven fact that rib injuries may take up to 2 months to fully appear.” You suggested, watching the lawyer’s eyebrow tick up as you took another few steps forward. “As for the bruises on her face – miss, is it okay if I ask you a question?”

You eyes moved to her, her face flushing slightly as she nodded.

“Do you happen to have any sort of condition, such as asthma, or eczema that you take medication for?”

She bit her lip, but nodded again.

“Do you use any type of skin treatment? Such as rollers, exfoliating brushes, things like that?”

Another nod.

You turned to the jury. “Medicines used to for particular things like these sometimes lead to blood thinning, which means, if she uses anything heavy on her face such as a roller, it would cause the skin to sink in slightly, and therefore bruise easily.”

The crowd shifted a bit, obviously uneasy. But before you could say anything else, the lawyer rang in.

“Objection, your honour, What means are backing up these facts? And, blood thinning only happens with certain medications, not necessarily the ones my client was using.”

The judge turned to you, so you quickly walked over, getting the message as you pulled a paper from the small stack you was holding and slipped it onto his desk. He put on his glasses and straightened out the paper, everyone in the room consecutively holding their breath as he scanned over it.

It was a few moments of silence before he nodded. “Overruled. Means and clarification of medication are stated,”

I fought back a sigh in relief. Thankfully, this was looking to be an easy case so far. I turned back around to take a look at the lawyer for a moment, and to my delight, he seemed speechless. His eyes were slightly wider now, a newfound panic underlying the deep brown colour.

wait.

You blinked again, and sure enough, his eyes were still brown. Then, upon your realization, other things began to change, too. The glasses that were on the tip of his nose began to fill in with a light silver colour, whilst everything around him filled in next. The deeper brown of the desks, the green of the carpet beneath your feet, it was all so sudden, but you felt like you didn’t ever want it to stop.

That small spot in the corner of your eye had expanded to the whole of your vision.

You met his eyes after a moment, and when you saw the familiar look in eyes, you wanted to jump in joy. Finally, you thought. You had finally found your soulmate, and at work of all places.

But, you figured that you had both spaced out, so you pulled your eyes off of him and begrudgingly turned back to the judge.

The rest of the trial had gone smoothly for you, the facts and points you’d given driving out until the end and giving you yet another win. Apparently, the woman had been having an affair and hadn’t reported her injuries from a kickboxing meet until they got so bad that she could blame her soulmate, whom she wanted to leave, for it.

To him normally, losing a case would be a huge deal. but this time, he considered it a win. He would always take meeting his soulmate over winning a case.

Everything had played out well, you thought, but you couldn’t exactly think of that for long. The only thing on your mind was the world around you; and the man that had put it all there.

“Y/N?” You turned around in the lobby, and was met with the same man you’d been against just recently. You finally smiled, enjoying the sight of the one you could finally call your soulmate.

“Jeonghan,” You let out a name that you’d become familiarized with just minutes ago, and took happiness in watching the smile that spread across his face.

He undoubtedly looked as happy as you were.

“Gosh,” You mumbled, unable to help the tears that came to your eyes as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “Do you realised how long I’ve been waiting for you?”

He just let out a soft chuckle, arms wrapping around you and pulling you into him. “The same amount of time I’ve spent waiting for you. It was really hard having just a small bit of colour, you know. Knowing that I’d briefly met my soulmate; it was torture. Letting you go was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

You pulled back from the hug to look at his face, unable to wipe the grin off your own.

“Then promise me you won’t do it again?”

“You can count on it,”

—

(lowkey pulled that entire court case out of my ass, but I think it worked out well enough??)

I hoped you liked it :)

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citizenscreen · 7 years

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Crime and punishment have been matters involving couples ever since Adam and Eve. The melding of two like-minded individuals in constant close proximity has led to crimes and crime sprees of historic proportions. Perhaps more interesting, however, are the smaller crimes involving couples of unlike minds. Those are a lot more common, the crimes that involve one person turning the violence against the other. And if either member of the couple is unhappy and feels tied to the other – as in by marriage – ugly things can and do result fairly often. That’s particularly true with regards to the female member who is the likely victim. Crime statistics may rise and fall depending on the year, but one manages to remain steady: female homicide victims in the U.S. are three times as likely to be killed by a male intimate partner such as a husband or boyfriend than males in similar partnerships. In fact, that specific type of crime is the oldest one in the world. Just ask San Francisco Assistant DA Thomas Krasny who has had a lot of experience prosecuting murdering low life spouses. Krasny’s latest case fits that bill perfectly. He is prosecuting Jack Forrester who is accused of brutally murdering his wife Page and their maid with a jagged edge hunting knife in Richard Marquand‘s Jagged Edge (1985).

The opinion of a famous District Attorney is valuable, but one really doesn’t have to be an expert to understand why Page Forrester’s husband is charged with her murder almost as soon as her body is discovered in the bedroom of the couple’s beach house. Spouse on spouse murders can have complicated psychological issues behind them that are not easily deciphered, but when money enters the picture the why of the crime usually becomes clear. Jack Forrester paints this kind of clear picture. Mr. Forrester is a young, successful publisher set to inherit his wife’s huge estate. Done deal. Except things are not always as they seem in Jagged Edge.

The handsome Jack Forrester (played by the equally handsome Jeff Bridges) is stylish, sophisticated and measured. In other words, he’s not the kind of man who would commit a murder better suited for a madman. Not only was Mrs. Forrester mutilated with the jagged edge knife, but the word “bitch” was written on the walls with her blood, an act that points to a deep-seated hatred and loss of civility that Jack Forrester doesn’t demonstrate. And once charged Jack Forrester realizes that’s his best defense. He needs to sell the image of perfection he exemplifies. Unfortunately for him, however, DA Krasny (Peter Coyote) doesn’t buy into Forrester’s story from the get-go. In fact, Krasny admits that, “If I were to kill my wife, that’s exactly the way I would do it.” In other words, Krasny would go to an incomprehensible extreme. And I’ll be damned if Krasny’s point is not a great one! Indeed, it’s difficult to wrap your head around the possibility that the gorgeous Jack Forrester might be capable of committing a crime such as was committed. It stands to reason then that Mr. Forrester would want to bring that point home to twelve jurors with the help of a female attorney from a prominent law firm who believes him.

A devastated Jack Forrester walks Teddy Barnes through the scene of the crime

Teddy Barnes (Glenn Close) has a long and reputable law resume under her belt, but she hasn’t practiced criminal law for years. As a former prosecutor, Teddy quit criminal cases after the Henry Styles case, a case that resulted in the conviction of an innocent man thanks to the legal misconduct of the lead attorney on the case – Thomas Krasny. Teddy Barnes has been living with the guilt of not having said anything about Krasny’s actions while knowing the innocent Henry Styles is rotting in a jail cell. Coincidentally, just as the Forrester investigation is getting started Teddy learns that Styles has hanged himself. Due to all of that when Jack Forrester asks Teddy Barnes to defend him she flatly refuses. The last thing she wants is to get mixed up with the likes of Krasny again and be responsible for another man’s life. But when Teddy visits her long-time friend, Sam Ransom (Robert Loggia), a former DA investigator who worked with her on the Styles case, he convinces her to take the Forrester case. It is the type of high-profile case that can set her up for life. Teddy Barnes agrees to meet with Jack Forrester with the caveat that she won’t defend him unless she believes in his innocence. And…well, this poses absolutely no problem for Jack who turns on the charm and begins to romance Teddy who buys into the entire package he offers…and a thrilling, layered courtroom drama ensues.

Barnes defends Forrester

Attorneys Krasny and Barnes

Teddy and Sam

Henceforth spoilers aplenty. I do not divulge whether Jack Forrester is responsible for his wife’s death, but I mention enough to spoil Jagged Edge if you’ve never seen it.

What makes Jagged Edge such an enjoyable thriller is the fact that it plays with the audience in an unapologetic way. As you watch this movie it’s highly likely that your allegiance will turn toward and away from Jack Forrester several times. Its intent is to keep you guessing and in that it succeeds. For instance…

What are some of the things that point to Forrester’s guilt?

He is the husband – as noted earlier in this post – the first person we usually look at who has the means and opportunity to commit the crime

Forrester and his attorney, Teddy Barnes start having an affair, which is suspect from the get-go. What better way can Jack ensure Teddy tries her best to defend him than if she falls in love with him? Deepening the suspicion where this blurring of lines occurs is the fact that we learn during Jack’s trial that he not only cheated on his wife, but did so using the same methods of conquest he has used on Teddy. This leads one to believe this man is calculating even when it concerns intimacy. And worse – he’s lied to US!

A jagged edge knife that could be the murder weapon is found in Mr. Forrester’s locker in the health club he is a member of.

As crooked as Thomas Krasny may be in his own right he makes a damn convincing argument. A man who has all of the qualities I mention on the innocence side below, can possibly get away with a horrific crime simply because he is so (seemingly) perfect.

The steady, reliable voice of reason, Sam Ransom is convinced about Forrester’s guilt despite the fact that he is assisting Teddy with the defense. Sam states his position in such a practical, unemotional way that he leaves us no choice but to think there is only one common sense truth. Jack Forrester is a monster and – clearly – Teddy’s views are marred by her feelings for him. As ours may also be.

What makes Forrester seem innocent?

The lead prosecutor, Thomas Krasny, has a history of playing dirty. We know for a fact that he will break the law in order to win a case. Is it possible that he has “invented” proof of Forrester’s guilt? Or has he hidden proof of his innocence, which we know he did at least once before?

Although Jack Forrester is set to inherit Page’s considerable estate he is not a deadbeat husband. In fact, it is made clear that Page was quite happy with how Jack was running the publishing business, which leads one to believe he has a solid work ethic and is a respected manager. Also, Jack’s not living a tough life with Page. He may not love her, as the affair business may have proven, but he still lives a life of luxury.

Page’s own brother believes Jack Forrester innocent of the crime. Certainly the opinion of a close family member who has witnessed the marriage over a long period of time holds some weight.

There’s a tennis pro – isn’t there always a tennis pro? – who was having an affair with Mrs. Forrester. In fact, this guy moved in on every rich, attractive female member of the health club and has a tendency to get aggressive and call them bitches. This guy is a slime ball – and maybe a murderer.

The matter of looks. As wrong as it may be, crime statistics show that people’s looks have a lot to do with how they are judged. Hell, we know that from regular society as well. With that in mind we cannot discount the fact that Jack Forrester appears to be the perfect specimen and we simply don’t want him to be guilty.

All of these things result in a push and pull in the minds of the viewer, which makes for a compelling whodunit and enjoyable conversation. The blatant manner in which Jagged Edge hangs each clue before our eyes dares us to take a side – over and over again. We may each believe one thing or another, but the truth is not revealed until the very last shot, which is when we are either proven right or proven wrong. Interestingly, the last time I watched Jagged Edge was with Theresa Brown, the host of the ‘Till Death Do Us Part Blogathon for which this post is intended. Theresa told me she believed Jack Forrester innocent when she first watched the movie while I believed him guilty. There you have it.

Jagged Edge received mixed reviews when released in 1985, but audiences responded well to it and I love it. If I had a list of favorite movies from the 1980s this one would be on it although it is not a perfect movie. I can probably come up with a few solid things wrong with it fairly easily. For instance, the scene where we see the grieving Mr. Forrester scatter his wife’s ashes in the ocean nags at me. I can’t get into the details of why it bothers me without divulging the movie’s final outcome, however, so you’ll have to be satisfied with that for now. The important thing is that despite its few flaws Jagged Edge should be included on the list of memorable spousal murder-related thrillers. Here are a few more reasons why…

Its Hitchcockian opening – the movie opens with a great, sweeping shot that moves from crashing ocean waves toward the remote beach house wherein the heinous crimes occur. Suggestive, eerie music and the sound of heavy rain and flashing lightning accompany us as we enter the house to find the masked killer doing his dirty deed. It’s chilling, a sequence that sets the mood and the crime as was done in the golden days of film noir.

There is terrific chemistry between Jeff Bridges and Glenn Close with both giving solid performances. Of the two I’d say Close is allowed a wider berth to emote given she has to be an accomplished lawyer, a scorned lover, an agonized working mother and a hero. Jeff Bridges is as convincing as he always is, however. Jack Forrester is at times wounded perfection and at other times a sly manipulator. Whether you believe he is either telling the truth or a monster depends on where you are in this story. Peter Coyote is also memorable as sleaze ball Krasny and Robert Loggia, who received the movie’s only Oscar nod as Best Supporting Actor, is fantastic as the Thelma Ritter of the piece.

The movie’s outcome depends on a 1942 Smith Corona typewriter, which gives it an added, stylish touch of nostalgia. Jagged Edge is an old-fashioned movie, set up similar to the classic variety of courtroom dramas we might have seen in the 1940s. I give our host Theresa another shout out because we recently had a conversation during which I mentioned that nearly every contemporary* movie I am drawn to follows the classic formula in some way. Jagged Edge is one of them. It is methodical and story-driven. It takes its time to explain that everyone’s motive is suspect.

You’ll have to watch Jagged Edge to learn the movie’s final resolution. Since that resolution goes beyond the trial of Jack Forrester, however, I can tell you that he is acquitted of the murders of Page Forrester and the maid. In a couple of days I’ll be back with another upper crust spousal murder case. This time, however, the husband dials ‘M’ and the wife survives.

◊

Be sure to visit CineMaven’s Essays from the Couch and the ‘Till Death Do Us Part Blogathon on Monday, July 24th. It’s sure to be murderous fun.

*Contemporary – to this blogger is anything after the classics era.

The Guilt and Innocence of Jack Forrester in Marquand’s JAGGED EDGE (1985) Crime and punishment have been matters involving couples ever since Adam and Eve. The melding of two like-minded individuals in constant close proximity has led to crimes and crime sprees of historic proportions.

#Glenn Close #Jagged Edge #Jeff Bridges #Peter Coyote #Richard Marquand #Robert Loggia

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olderjustneverwiser · 7 years

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It Wasn't Getting Drunk I Loved, It Was Being With You (Rafael Barba)

Masterlist

Request for anon: im the one who requested either carisi or barba for the friends to lovers and i would love a drunk kissing one!!! that like maybe turns smutty when they get sober WUT. lololol

A while back, @moresvuheadcanons was going through some hard stuff, and I promised I’d write her a little something about Rafael comforting a reader (I actually think I still have my handwritten notes for that fic somewhere). Since nothing I was trying to wrote for that was working, Caitlin, this one’s for you and I hope you enjoy it!

Also, thanks to @am-i-right-counselor for her help!

This didn’t turn smutty, but I think i was able to make it gender neutral? I don’t think I added any pronouns.

When you first made your move from Vice to SVU, you weren’t quite sure how handling these types of cases would affect you. You were determined to never get too close to a case, though, and you were fine, for the most part. The cases were disgusting and disheartening, you dealt with the absolute worst kinds of perps, and witnessed things that made your stomach turn, but still you pushed through, case after case. However, after one particularly sickening case involving a neglected child and the Department of Child Services, you reached your breaking point.

After the trial, you found yourself at a bar, nursing a drink. The trial went well, considering; the DCS was going to undergo a revamping, but still, you felt as though justice had not been served. Keisha was still dead, and poor Bruno was in foster care. He was better off there than with his dead-beat mother, but you still felt for the kid. It made you sick.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw someone take the bar stool next to you. You turned your head to see that Barba had taken it, and was shimmying out of his suit jacket, “Looks like we had the same idea, detective.”

You offered up a small smile, “Yeah, that was a tough case.”

“It was,” his face was solemn, “That’s why we drink. How about next round’s on me?”

From that night on, going to the bar after a hard case had become you and Barba’s ‘thing.’ It was always the same bar, The Grouse Room just a few blocks from the courthouse, and more often than not it was the same thing every time; you would share a plate of fries over a few drinks and talk. Neither of you ever got too drunk, it was just a nice way to let off steam. Over time, you and Barba became friends.

Over the passing months, talk about the cases you worked turned into talk about your private lives. Barba had told you about his childhood, about how his father treated him and his mother. He told you about his time at Harvard and why he decided to become a prosecutor. You soon realized that you were getting to see a side of Rafael Barba that few people got to see. It was clear that you were becoming his closest friend on the squad, and part of you found solace in that.

In fact, it did not take long for you to develop feelings for the man. What had started out as blowing off steam after work turned into hanging out with a dear friend. While he was sassy and threatening in the courtroom, he was kind and softhearted with you. These conflicting personalities of his were alluring, and sexy as hell. You told yourself that nothing could come from these feelings, though. He was your ADA and you were his detective and who says he would ever feel the same, anyway?

‘Grouse Room? Meet at 9?’

You needed to see Barba. This was going to be a horrible, disturbing case. You already knew, when you arrived at the hospital with Carisi and met the victim. Such a young kid, sodomized with a hockey stick. A damn hockey stick. Thinking about it almost made you vomit.

Barba sent a quick reply, saying that he’d be there. That made you feel a little better, but time seemed to drag until you were able to punch out for the day. You headed to the bar and waited for Rafael, and were already on your second drink when he arrived.

His eyes widened at the scowl on your face, “Tell me, how bad is it?”

“Thirteen year old. Sodomized with a hockey stick in the locker room.”

“I swear, they just seem to get worse,” he took his seat as he ordered his usual.

“I think one of the teammates did it,” you finished your drink in a gulp and promptly ordered another one.

“Don’t you think you should pace yourself?” Barba sounded worried, but you could not care less about your well-being at the moment.

“Nope. I need to forget about how horrible our world is for a while.”

You felt Barba’s hand on your leg and saw him smile, “Then let’s talk about something not horrible.”

It didn’t take long for you to get a nice buzz, and before long you were drunk. You didn’t know how long you and Barba had been at the bar, or how much you had to drink, but the room was spinning. You had been rambling for a while; you weren’t sure if you were even coherent or not, but Barba had just been sitting there, listening to you go on with a smile on his face.

“And, Barba, I just don’t understand why everybody is so mean! Why are people to awful to one another? To kids?”

“I don’t know. I wish I could tell you.”

You cocked your head and looked at him. God, he was handsome. You wanted to kiss him, and you thought that he might just be drunk enough to want to kiss you, too. If not, you could just blame the drinks.

“You’re not awful, ya know.”

“Thank you. You’re not too awful, yourself.”

It was now or never. You leaned your body towards him, you were still sitting on the bar stool to keep your balance. You stopped just a few inches from his face, waiting for him to stop you, to push you away. He didn’t; he just stared at you, his brows furrowed at your advance. Your hand found his tie and you closed the gap between you, crashing your lips into his.

Barba stiffened at your kiss, but quickly he relaxed into you, his large hands grabbing at your waist to pull you closer. Kissing him felt amazing, his lips were dominant, but soft and gentle. A perfect mix of him. Too soon he pulled away, and asked if you wanted to go home with him.

When you woke up the next morning, you knew two things; that you were in an unfamiliar apartment, and you had one of the worst hangovers you could remember. As you looked around the room, pieces of the night came back to you. Drinking way more than normal, kissing Barba.

Fuck, Barba. Had you slept with him?

You looked down, seeing that your dress clothes were still on. That was a good sign, but still, you were embarrassed. How could you work with Barba again after last night? Your badge and gun weren’t on you, you couldn’t remember taking them off. The bed you were in was empty, but you didn’t get a chance to wonder where its owner was. Barba entered his room, coffee and aspirin in his hands.

“Hey, you,” he handed you the aspirin as he sat on the edge of the bed, “there’s some water in the night stand.”

You smiled as you took the medicine, and drank the entire glass of water.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t do anything. I just knew I had to get you out of there so you could sleep.”

That made you feel a little better, “I’m really sorry about kissing you.”

He frowned, “Why are you sorry?”

You were confused, “Um, because I kissed you? And we were drunk? I made a fool of myself.”

“Did you kiss me because you were drunk?”

“Well, it definitely gave me the confidence to,” you replied sheepishly.

He was staring at you, you couldn’t read the expression on his face. You desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. You didn’t have to wonder for long, though, “Did you think I went to the bar all those times just to drink? I went to be with you.”

You could practically feel your heart burst at his words. “Really?” you asked.

He nodded, and held one of your hands in his own. “I can drink at home. There’s nothing really special about that bar, except that we were there together. You’re something special, you know, not just another drinking buddy. I thought that was obvious.”

“Maybe you need to be a little more obvious, then,” you replied with a grin.

He flashed you his signature Rafael Barba smirk before he wrapped one of his hands around the back of your head and pulled you in for another perfect kiss.

#rafael barba #imagine rafael barba #rafael barba imagine #law and order svu #law and order svu imagine #svu #svu imagine #law and order special victims unit

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atarashiishousetsuka · 7 years

Text

Ace Attorney Narumitsu/Wrightworth Fanfiction Rec List

Currently I am not really in a writing mood, but in a reading mood! I promise I’ll write more fanfics soon, but these last few days I love to spend hours on finding and reading fanfics of others!

There are so many fantastic AA stories out there that need to be read by the fandom! :D

This list includes old and new written completed Narumitsu/Wrightworth fanfics! There are many amazing stories which are on hiatus or not completed, but I have not added them here.

There are a few 7-year-gap fics, this period is one of my favorites to read about!

Rated G-M. Summaries are taken from AO3 and are written by the original author.

Have fun!!!!!!!! :D

LIST WITH LINKS UNDERNEATH THE CUT

Narumitsu (one-shots)

· daisy test by kokiche

“Okay,” he acquiesces, lips turning up only a little. He sits up from the sofa and looks at Edgeworth, at his desk. “Back in fourth grade, toward the end of the year, Larry had told me of a way to figure out if your crush liked you back, right? It was called the daisy test.”

· Compress by Gummysaur

Edgeworth didn’t know what he expected when he flew all the way from Europe to visit Phoenix Wright in the hospital. Certainly not this.

· psycholocked by unsungillumination

*spoilers for trials and tribulations* the missing hospital scene from case five (bridge to the turnabout) of trials and tribulations. edgeworth arrives at the hospital in a panic only to find that phoenix’s biggest immediate problem is with the pudding. edgeworth, on the other hand, is about to acquire a bigger problem - one shaped like an attorney’s badge.

· Yours, Mine, and Maybe Ours by estelraca

Phoenix convinces Miles to bring Trucy in with him for Bring Your Daughter to Work Day, despite Miles’ misgivings. Everything becomes even more complicated when Kay Faraday and Shi-Long Lang call on him for assistance. Set between the original trilogy and Apollo Justice; mild spoilers for both Investigations games.

· The Walk to Tomorrow by Commander_Freddy

After all they’ve been through, it’s strange that something so important could be so simple, but for Miles and Phoenix, falling in love, at least, doesn’t have to be the end of the world.

Some stress relief fluff that I wrote purely to cheer myself up - there is literally negative plot but there is a lot of lawyers falling into the bright and bitter kind of love that can only come from a lifetime of belligerent teamwork.

· Remember, Remember, 5th November by Carazard

Quick fluffy oneshot. Phoenix and Miles are in London on a ‘work related trip’, however it just so happens to co-inside with the local celebrations of Bonfire Night.

· At Your Pace by Tarma_Hartley for phoenxwright

Miles and Phoenix have been dating for awhile. Miles isn’t used to physical affection and Phoenix respects that, going at the pace that Miles, himself, sets…

· always welcome by deiectus

After the events in Hazakurain, Phoenix, shaken by the case, needs someone to talk to. He goes to Edgeworth.

· to whom do I owe the pleasure? (Smile For Me) by Loreley

In a time of crisis, Miles Edgeworth had chosen “death”– and yet, when he came back, Phoenix forgave him. Now, when faced of a crisis of his own, what will Phoenix Wright choose? Or, when Phoenix comes to visit Miles after his disbarment, and Miles does not receive the guest he expects to. He did not think he would be spending the evening with a handsome stranger in a mask.

· Overdue by sugawara

Miles had made foolish decisions in the past. He was not about to make them again.

· Things I Won’t Regret by withpractice_ff

Phoenix Wright keeps his promises.

· As You Wish by howbadcanmyficsbe

December 3, 9:47AM. Trevi Fountain. Rome, Italy. Phoenix and Edgeworth have a Roman holiday not long after Gavin’s conviction.

· A Fool In Love (With You) by gen

Miles and Phoenix (finally, no really, after two years of being engaged) decide to tie the knot. On the day of the wedding, they are reminded of all the moments that got them there.

Narumitsu (several to many chapters)

· Welcome Home by GouKanraku

[Occurs after the end of Trials and Tribulations] Phoenix’s apartment is getting torn down, and he is running fast out of options. However, instead of resorting to living in the woods of Kurain Valley or on Larry’s couch, he knows that there is a certain prosecutor that just might take him in. Just how hard was it for Phoenix to make himself comfortable in the home of the Demon Prosecutor? Surprisingly, it was easier than one would think…

· Consequences by tastewithouttalent

“'Just stay for a few days,’ Phoenix pleads. ‘You don’t even have to get a hotel or anything, I have a couch you can stay on.’” Edgeworth stays on Phoenix’s couch for a few days and there are some unintended consequences.

· To Turnabout Eternally by Ari_Alleyn

For years, Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright have fought both singly and together to protect others from injustice. When the well-guarded secret of Edgeworth’s sexuality is exposed, however, it’s up to Phoenix to remind his long-time friend and rival that everyone deserves a happy ending. Phoenix/Edgeworth.

· Promise You’ll Stay by Valethra

The story of how Miles came to secretly live with Phoenix every time he’s in LA.

· Surviving You by pantswarrior

Phoenix’s life falls into disarray after Zak’s trial. Luckily, he’s found someone in the aftermath who will help him get back on his feet, who will support him and never leave him… and that might not be such a good thing after all.

· Legal Partners by Miggy

Miles Edgeworth isn’t totally sure how he ended up in this bet to demonstrate the strength of his and Phoenix Wright’s (entirely professional and platonic! really!) relationship, but he knows it’s Klavier’s fault. (Full story on FF net!)

· Nihil Dicit by wildfillysama

Miles Edgeworth has some figuring out to do, now that he’s back and officially not dead. He’s not the only one. Between Phoenix Wright getting his life back on track and Edgeworth now apparently moonlighting as a detective, some serious decisions need to be made without the assistance of alcohol or Larry Butz. Maybe even with a little bit of maturity on both of their parts. Or not.

· School Daze by nerdyskeleton (this is an AU)

They say being a teacher is one of the most rewarding things you can do with your life. New art teacher Phoenix Wright isn’t sure who “they” are and what kind of angelic students they must have had, because the Themis Middle School students are really something else altogether.

Lastly, some completed Narumitsu fanfics by me, if you guys are interested :)

· A Day We Will Never Forget by atarashiishousetsuka (one-shot)

Phoenix and Miles visit Kurain village together, as Miles has decided it is time for him to finally meet his father. However, after the session he is comforted by Phoenix and it leads to more emotions than Miles had ever imagined. Sad but fluffy Narumitsu edited one-shot.

· Actions Speak Louder Than Words by atarashiishousetsuka (one-shot)

'I-I feel an urge…,’ the man with silver hair began. 'An urge?’ - 'A-an urge to… k-kiss you…’

Phoenix and Miles’ first kiss. Cute one-shot.

· Thank You, My Turnabout by atarashiishousetsuka (21 chapters)

Phoenix Wright knows he depends too much on Miles Edgeworth ever since his disbarment. However, he has the feeling Miles relies more on him as well. This story revolves around the beginning of the disbarment of Phoenix, the adoption of Trucy, their trips to Europe, the regaining of his badge and Turnabout for Tomorrow. The friendship between the two men grows.

I’ll likely add more recs, I have read just a small part of all existing fanfics.

Perhaps I will make a recommendation list of domestic Narumitsu and platonic fanfics too :D

Please reblog and tag other AA fans who like to read Narumitsu fanfics as well!

#ace attorney #gyakuten saiban #narumitsu #wrightworth #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #ace attorney fanfiction #gyakuten saiban fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic recs #fanfiction recommendations

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