SUMMARY - Divorce lawyer Hiromi Higuruma takes one look at his client's wife in that black dress and makes the most unethical decision of his career: dropping the husband as a client so he can represent her instead (and eventually fuck her on his desk).
⤷ divorce lawyer!higuruma x client's wife!reader | 18+ MDNI
CW: explicit sexual content, divorce lawyer AU, lawyer/client relationship (VERY unethical), power dynamics, she's technically still married during first encounter, desk sex, office sex, semi-public sex, possessive behavior, unprotected sex, creampie, he breaks every ethics rule for her, professional misconduct, they don't care, mutual seduction, she wore that dress on purpose, confident/busty reader, hourglass figure appreciation, breast worship
Hiromi Higuruma has been a divorce lawyer for eight years and he's seen it all. Cheaters, liars, gold diggers, bitter exes. He prides himself on being completely professional, completely detached. Never gets emotionally involved. Never takes sides beyond his client's.
Until she walks into his office.
His client's wife. Soon to be ex wife, technically, but the papers aren't signed yet. Her husband, some hedge fund asshole named Takeshi, sits in the chair across from Hiromi's desk looking smug. And she...
She's standing by the window in a black dress that should be illegal. Tailored, fitted, a V neckline that draws his eyes exactly where they shouldn't go, three quarter sleeves with turned up cuffs. The dress hugs every curve, creates an hourglass silhouette that makes his mouth go dry. Midi length, professional, powerful.
She looks like she could run a Fortune 500 company or destroy a man with a single glance. Possibly both.
"Mr. Higuruma," Takeshi says, pulling his attention back. "As I was saying, the prenup is very clear. She gets nothing."
"I see." Hiromi hasn't looked at the prenup yet. Can't stop looking at her. She's gorgeous, confident, hasn't said a word but her presence fills the room. "And Mrs.—"
"[Y/N]," she says, finally turning from the window. Her voice is smooth, controlled. "Just [Y/N] is fine."
Their eyes meet and something electric passes between them. Her lips curve slightly, like she knows exactly what he's thinking.
This is bad. This is so bad.
"The prenup," Takeshi continues, oblivious, "states that in the event of divorce, she receives no alimony, no portion of assets acquired during the marriage, and—"
"That prenup was signed under duress," she interrupts, voice cutting. "I was pregnant, emotional, and you told me you'd call off the wedding if I didn't sign."
"It is." She looks at Hiromi. "I have emails. Text messages. Witnesses who heard him threaten to leave me at the altar."
Hiromi's professional interest sparks. "Do you have legal representation?"
"Not yet. My lawyer dropped me last week. Conflict of interest, apparently my husband's family does business with his firm."
Of course they do. Takeshi's family has money, influence. They'd make sure she couldn't find decent representation.
"I can recommend someone," Hiromi hears himself say. "Several excellent lawyers who—"
The words hang in the air. Takeshi laughs.
"He's MY lawyer. He represents ME."
"Then I'll find someone better." She gathers her purse, and Hiromi notices it's designer. Everything about her screams expensive, refined, powerful. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Higuruma."
She walks out, and Hiromi can't stop watching her go. The way she moves, confident and graceful. The door closes behind her and Takeshi is still talking but Hiromi isn't listening.
He's thinking about ethics violations. About professional responsibility. About the fact that he's never wanted to drop a client faster in his entire career.
Three days later, he does exactly that.
Sends Takeshi a formal letter terminating their professional relationship, citing irreconcilable differences in legal strategy. It's professional enough that Takeshi can't sue, vague enough that he can't prove anything.
"This is highly unusual," he says when she answers.
"What is?" She sounds amused.
"I dropped your husband as a client. If you still want representation, I'm available."
Silence. Then: "Why would you do that?"
"Because that prenup is garbage and he's an asshole and you deserve better representation."
"And it has nothing to do with the fact that you couldn't stop staring at me in your office?"
His face heats. "That was... I apologize if I made you uncomfortable—"
"You didn't." Her voice is smooth, confident. "I wore that dress specifically to make you stare. Worked better than I expected."
He should hang up. Should refer her to someone else. Should maintain professional boundaries.
"My office. Tomorrow. 9 AM. We'll discuss your case."
"Looking forward to it, Mr. Higuruma."
She hangs up and Hiromi sits there, staring at his phone, wondering what the hell he's gotten himself into.
Three months of working together and Hiromi is losing his mind.
She comes to every meeting dressed like sin. Pencil skirts, fitted blouses, dresses that hug every curve. She's brilliant too, sharp, remembers every detail of her case. Helps him build an airtight argument for why that prenup is invalid.
They're winning. Her husband's lawyers are scrambling. And Hiromi is falling for his client which is possibly the most unethical thing he's ever done.
"We should celebrate," she says after a particularly good deposition. They're in his office, evening light streaming through the windows. "The look on his lawyer's face when you brought up those emails was priceless."
"But we're close." She stands, walks around his desk. Perches on the edge right in front of him. "You've been amazing, Hiromi. I don't know how to thank you."
"You don't need to thank me. It's my job."
"Is it just a job?" She leans forward slightly and he can see down her blouse, the curve of her breasts, black lace. He forces his eyes up. "Because sometimes the way you look at me feels like more than professional interest."
"[Y/N]—" His voice is rough. "You're still married. Technically. And you're my client. There are ethics rules—"
"Ethics." She smiles, slides off the desk into his lap. Straddles him in his office chair and his hands go to her hips automatically. "Tell me to stop and I will."
He should. He absolutely should.
"I can't," he breathes. "I can't tell you to stop when I've been thinking about this for three months."
"Good." She kisses him, and it's not soft or tentative. It's fierce, claiming, her hands in his hair and her tongue sliding against his. "Because I've been thinking about it too."
He kisses her back desperately, professionally be damned. His hands slide up her thighs, under her skirt, and she gasps against his mouth.
"We shouldn't—" He's trying to be rational but she's grinding against him and he's already hard. "Not until the divorce is final—"
"He's been fucking his secretary for two years," she breathes. "I think I'm allowed this."
That's all the permission he needs. He stands, lifting her with him, and she wraps her legs around his waist. Walks her to his desk, sweeps papers aside, lays her out like an offering.
"You're so beautiful," he mutters, working on the buttons of her blouse. "So fucking beautiful. Been driving me crazy."
"Good." She's working on his belt, his zipper. "That was the plan. Wanted to see how long you'd last before you broke."
"You love it." She's not wrong.
He gets her blouse open and groans at the sight. Black lace bra, breasts spilling out, and he can't help himself. Leans down, kisses the swell of her chest, and she arches into him.
"Hiromi—" Her hands are in his hair again. "Please—"
He slides her skirt up, finds she's wearing matching black lace panties, and the sight makes him harder. Hooks his fingers in the lace, pulls them aside.
"Tell me you want this." He needs to hear it.
"I want this. Want you. Have wanted you since that first meeting." She pulls him down into another kiss. "Now stop being a lawyer and fuck me already."
He does. Slides into her in one smooth thrust and they both groan. She's perfect, tight and wet and warm, and he has to pause just to breathe.
"Move," she demands, nails digging into his shoulders. "Hiromi, move—"
He does, setting a rhythm that's deep and thorough and has her gasping his name. The desk creaks beneath them, papers falling to the floor, but neither of them care.
"So good," she's muttering. "Feels so good—better than I imagined—"
"You imagined this?" He's breathless, trying to maintain some control.
"Every night." She clenches around him deliberately. "Every meeting. Imagined you bending me over this desk. Making me scream your name."
"Fuck—" Her words push him closer to the edge. "You're going to make me—"
"Then come." She pulls him down, kisses him hard. "Come inside me. Want to feel it."
He does, with a rough groan muffled against her neck, and she follows seconds later, clenching around him.
For a moment they just stay like that, breathing hard, tangled together on his desk.
"That was—" He can't find words.
"Highly unethical?" She's smiling, looking thoroughly satisfied. "Probably going to get you disbarred?"
"Worth it." He kisses her softly. "Completely worth it."
"Good." She's working on his tie, loosening it. "Because I'm not done with you yet."
"Your divorce isn't final—"
"Then we better win quickly." She pulls him back down. "Because I want to do this in your bed next time. Properly."
He should say no. Should maintain boundaries. Should wait until everything is legal and proper.
Instead he kisses her again and decides ethics can wait until morning.
Six months later, the divorce is final. The prenup is thrown out. She gets half of everything, alimony, and the satisfaction of watching her ex husband's face when the judge rules in her favor.
Hiromi takes her to dinner that night. Then home. Then makes good on her request to do this properly in his bed.
"Still think I'm worth the ethics violation?" she asks afterward, curled against his chest.
"Every single one." He kisses her hair. "Though maybe let's not tell the bar association about our timeline."
"Our secret." She smiles. "Besides, you're my lawyer. Attorney client privilege."
"That's not how that works."
"It is now." She kisses him. "Now stop lawyering and take me again."
He does. Multiple times. And when they finally sleep, she's wearing his shirt and he's thinking about how he broke every professional rule for her.
Best decision he ever made.
