#i am not a lawyer but i would highly advise against robbery

[papa-rhys]

Misconduct Part 1 (Pre-Cult John Seed X Reader)

Note: Have some Pre-Cult John sex bc fucking lawyer John would be hot af. Also, I split this into two parts ‘cause it would’ve been too long for my liking, so this part is heavy flirting and kissing/touching, and the next part is smut. I highly recommend reading both parts (’cause of course I do, I’m biased as all hell) but if you really wanna skip to the dirty goodness, I ain’t gonna hold it against ya. I wrote this with my Dep in mind, but it’s completely gender neutral, as if most of my writing! (I believe; let me know if there’s any mistakes in that regard) Enjoy!

|Part 2| 

Find more of my writing here!

As soon as you enter the room, you’re greeted by the sight of a very attractive young man in an expensive navy-blue suit. His hair is slicked back and he has a well-kept beard, which you’d never found particularly attractive on a guy until now. You stop in your tracks briefly. You weren’t expecting someone so good looking, and you’re glad you chose to make this appointment. You pull yourself together and close the door behind you.

“You must be Mr. Duncan,” you say, stretching out a hand for the man to shake as he rises from behind his desk and does the same. His hands are softer than any you’d ever felt on a man, and you can tell he’s not anything like the people you usually associate with, with their scruffy jeans, greasy hair, and cigarette stained fingers.

“Please, call me John,” he insists, offering you a welcoming smile with teeth as bright as anything.

“Oh, sure.”

You’d received John Duncan’s business card from a friend who recently had a run-in with the law; as most of your friends often do. She’d said he was a brilliant lawyer, and that he was charming, too. “He’s a hell of a sweet-talker, but that was fine by me,” she’d said with a wink, offering you a small card with an ornate deep-blue pattern and shimmering gold lettering. It looked fancy and expensive, and the quality of a lawyer’s business card almost always reflects the quality of their service. Wanting someone who was at least semi-competent, you were more than willing to consider calling.

You take a seat in front of his desk, in an art nouveau armchair that is far more comfortable than it looks. John sits back down, smoothing his jacket as he does so, and pulls his chair forwards, tucking his legs underneath the desk. He skims through your file – a very large file at that – licking his thumb and turning the pages. The room is silent, except for the antique clock ticking on the mantelpiece of a decorative fireplace.

“Armed robbery,” he speaks, glancing up at you through his eyelashes before returning his eyes to the file. “You’ve been busy. It’s your 4th time being charged with it, I see.”

“Yeah...” You say, awkwardly raising your hand and running your fingers through your hair. “I’m good at the armed robbery part, but apparently I’m not so great at the running away from cops part.”

“So you did it, then?” John asks.

“Absolutely.”

John looks up from the file and closes it before pushing it to one side. “Well, I appreciate an honest client. It helps me to do my job well when they don’t hold things back from me. I assume you’re pleading guilty?”

“I dunno. Isn’t that why I’m hiring you? So that you can tell me what to do?”

“Well,” he begins, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. “I can advise you, but ultimately, it’s your choice. Pleading guilty would make for a much quicker sentencing, but it’d also be very likely to result in jail time. Pleading not guilty would put you on trial, but it would give me a chance to work my magic and hopefully get you off.”

You lean back in your chair and cross your legs. “I like the sound of you getting me off,” you say with a smirk. “Legally speaking, of course.”

John raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side, but he manages to keep his composure. “Well, I’ll try my best,” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

You can’t hold back your smile, so decide to break eye contact instead, looking around the room. “This office must’ve cost more than my childhood home,” you say, running your fingers along the smooth, glossy wood of his desk. “So, how much to you charge?”

“For which service?” He asks, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands on the desk with interlocked fingers. “Getting you off, or... getting you off?”

You chuckle. “Let’s go with the first one for now.”

“Well, I charge by the hour. Usually $1300, but I’m sure I could alter the price a little for someone as pleasant as you,” he smiles.

“$1300? Jesus. For that price, you better be taking me to court in a Rolls Royce.”

John lets a snicker escape him before regaining his collectedness and rising from his chair. He moves around his desk and walks over to a blue velvet sofa that sits along the wall behind you, right next to the office door. In front of it lays a mahogany coffee table with a gold tray holding a few glasses and a crystal decanter atop it.

“Maybe I can convince you with a drink?” He asks, selecting two of the overturned glasses and setting them down the right way up before picking up the decanter.

“Sure, why not? Might be my last one for a few years,” you say, getting up from your chair and joining him at the edge of the room. “Besides, who am I to pass up the offer of expensive liquor?” You smile, taking the glass of whiskey that John has poured and handed to you. The two of you take a seat on the sofa, sipping from the heavy crystal glasses.

“This tastes like burnt rubber,” you say, pulling a face and wiping your mouth on the back of your hand.

“It does,” John laughs, pulling the stop out of the decanter and pouring the contents of his glass back into it. “My assistant isn’t much of a drinker, so she has unfortunate taste. You’ll have to excuse her; she tries her best.”

“She’s excused,” you say, taking another sip.

“You’re still drinking it?” John asks, raising one eyebrow at you.

“If it gets me buzzed, then it’s good enough for me.”

John watches you and licks his lips as you gulp half the glass down. He’s sitting very close, with his legs crossed towards you and an arm behind you, resting across the back of the sofa. You lean back, and John uses his thumb to lightly caress the back of your neck. Your heart sends a sharp flutter through your chest as he does so, and you wonder if he can sense it, because he immediately places his other hand on your leg and begins slowly moving his fingertips up your inner thigh.

“This is very unethical, Mr. Duncan,” you tell him. “Do you do this with all your clients?”

“Only the attractive ones,” he replies. He says it with a smile, but you’re not totally sure that he’s joking.

You down the rest of your whiskey in one gulp and John’s hand remains wedged between your thighs as you lean forward to set the glass on the coffee table. After doing so, you shift so that you’re facing John and, placing a hand on the side of his neck, you kiss him.

He’s a very good kisser, and although you’ve only known him for 10 minutes, it’s very passionate. He moves his hand from your thigh and places it on your waist, pulling you closer, wrapping the other hand gently around your throat as he kisses you back.

“I have… protection… in my desk draw,” he says between kisses, trying to stand up.

“Don’t worry about that, we’re fine without it,” you say, pulling him back down and holding him in place with a hand on his chest.

“But-“

“I like to live dangerously,” you joke.

“I guess that would account for the armed robbery,” he laughs, smiling into the kiss as you lock your lips with his again. He desperately grasps at your thighs, pulling your leg over him and forcing you to follow so that you’re straddling him.

“Well, I can do dangerous,” he breathes, unbuckling his belt.

#three cheers for fucking your lawyer #hip hip #john seed #john seed x reader #my writing #writing: john seed