#Posts that are only going to make sense to those who are more familiar with Bloodborne lore. Ugh. Especially because I swear Oedon

[abyssalpriest]

Ohhh Lev, Lev, Lev... I was only saying - joking - earlier about how much he knows about Bloodborne, so of course I "incidentally" found this now.

He's been very insistent on calling Yharnam, Maria, and Kos the "White Queens" and it's very specific language I've questioned before when he's had me call them that, in that I've gone to stray away and he snaps me back to it in the "It's 'white' and 'queen'" way

other screenshot refuses to load so I guess that's all the information he needs. Anyway. The person he appeared as when I was a BB PC pagan, he told me their name was Ruadhri (Rory) O'Shea

[paarksunghoon]

walk the line | jongseong

SUMMARY: park jongseong has one regret and he's spent his entire life atoning for the pain he caused you. when you walk into office under the premise of working together, he's only got one shot to make things right before it's too late.

WORD COUNT: 33.1K

NOTES: this story was originally posted on my other blog, @pprodsuga. I will be transferring some work in due time and this is the first one! if it looks familiar, no need to panic or think I’m plagiarizing.

WARNINGS: contains smut.

PLAYLIST + MASTERLIST

***

When Jay was eleven years old, his father brought him a souvenir back from New York City when he traveled abroad for a week-long business trip. Jay has always been a big dreamer, too lost in his own reality to acknowledge the everyday life of grade school and all that came with it. It’s a tendency that his parents fostered and nurtured, instilling the belief that Jay could achieve anything he wanted in life if he dreamt hard enough. 

The “I Heart NY” pin sits in the first drawer to the right of his desk. Besides his quick wit and intelligence, Jay would love to believe that pin is the reason why his desk on the fiftieth floor overlooks the city of Seoul. 

Jay doesn’t make mistakes. He’s calculated and smart with his decisions based on cold, hard facts. He trusts his gut and prides himself in taking the high road when things get tough, letting losses go and holding his wins close to his heart. Practicing law isn’t for the weak, and Jay is not weak. 

Yet walking into his office feels bleak on some days. The castle he serves doesn’t seem as golden as it once did in the early stages of his career. The gifts given to him by clients and admirers that sit around his office feel undeserved, no matter how many hours he put into making them happy. His only sense of comfort is the large vinyl collection he has that sits between shelf upon shelf for no one to touch but him. 

Jay is meticulous in his work, rarely letting anyone into his inner circle without proving themselves first. It’s what makes him a great lawyer and what gave him a respectable name to his firm and others alike—Jay takes calculated risks and trusts no one, other than himself, completely.

Still, his days wane between fulfilling and empty. 

He’s one of the first people to arrive at the office with a briefcase in hand and hair slicked back with expensive gel, wearing suits tailored at a few grand apiece. Jay doesn’t leave early either. He watches associates under him file out of the office one by one as the hour goes by until there’s no one left but him. It’s only then will Jay cap his pen or queue an email to send in the morning to make it appear as if he hadn’t spent all night in his office. 

Jay loves his job. It gives him a sense of self fulfillment and it brings him joy to win cases for his clients, who range from high-paid celebrities to private equity firms. While the high salary and other liquid assets are perks of his profession, Jay puts his entire faith into his work and lets his winning streak do the talking for him. 

He has to, or else law school wouldn’t have been worth it. 

For three years, Jay studied from dusk until dawn for the chance to work in the career he’s been dreaming about since he received that ‘I Heart NY�� pin from his father all those years ago. Opening a particularly long chapter that was difficult to analyze never felt like a burden to Jay, not when his life would eventually amount to working at one of the big three law firms in Korea as Senior Partner. 

Jay holds more ownership than he once did and manages his own associate now. He’s no longer at the entrance phase of his career. Jay’s responsible for more finances and harder cases the firm encounters, and he knows his boss and the Managing Partner, Lee Heeseung, expects the best from him. 

Perhaps it’s why he feels compelled to put on his best smile and work until he feels exhausted because he knows he’ll be proud of it down the line. It’s what Jay assumes; all of the early mornings and late nights will prove to be worth it once he’s able to sit back and look down his long, successful career. People don’t admire him for nothing. 

Nothing beats watching the sunset over the horizon as he ends his workday. The golden hues on the sun cascading down the city skyline fills the atmosphere of the office, signaling the end of the day. It’s when Jay feels his happiness. He’ll let the associates go home to catch up on rest and see their friends and families before it approaches a late hour. 

Jay, however, stays behind to finish up on projects before his eyes grow weak and when he can’t keep his yawns at bay anymore. He’s already had his moments to leave at an appropriate time when he was a mere associate. Now, Jay has more responsibilities that he needs to maintain in order to feel like he really earned the title of Senior Partner. So he stays an hour after everybody goes home. 

Jay is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears the sound of knuckles on his glass door.

“Knock knock.” Jake Sim’s voice echoes through the large office, bringing Jay back to reality. He clears his throat and turns around to see the younger man standing before him with a blue manila folder in his hands. “I come bearing gifts.” 

“You’re a bit too late. Christmas was four months ago.” 

“Ha-ha,” Jake laughs dryly. “Consider this an early birthday present, then.” 

Jake presents the folder to his colleague, who opens the file and sifts through the papers at his fingertips. Jay’s eyebrow quirks with interest as he looks between the documents and the man standing before him. It’s something he’s been waiting on for weeks. Something that’ll make or break a case he’s been anxiously thinking about and what’s been making him stay behind until the clock ticks is the only audible sound on the entire floor. 

“I’m only going to say this once,” Jay begins. He points at Jake with the folder. “You’re the man.” 

“I’m always the man, you just don’t want to admit it.” 

The pair smile at each other after a beat. Jay puts the file on his desk and invites Jake to take a seat on the couch by his vinyl collection, one that the man knows not to touch. 

“I heard you’re almost done with the Yeon-Choi merger,” Jake says. “Heeseung mentioned it this morning.” 

“I’m waiting on a fax from them, actually.” Jay takes his specks off of his face and places it nearly on his desk. “Sunoo’s on the lookout for the document. Speaking of which.” 

Jake looks behind him to see Sunoo enter the office space as Jay waves him in. He hands over the stack of documents, freshly printed with the paper still warm to the touch. 

“Ms. Kang just faxed it over,” says Kim Sunoo, a first year associate. “Thank you,” Jay says as he receives the document. He looks at Jake. “Now I’m done with the Yeon-Choi merger.”

“You’d think two global giants in the world of finance  would be at odds with merging given their competitive streak in the past few years, but they’ve just signed a document that lists a communal agreement to share assets.” Jake watches Sunoo leave and waves goodbye before he walks out the door. “Managing this client was an insane move, even for you.” 

“Choi Analytics is nothing if not determined,” Jay informs. “So am I, Sim. You should know that by now.” 

“I think you bit off more than you could chew. You only secured that win with two days to spare.” 

“I have you, don’t I?” Jay teases with the tilt of his head. “Who was it that told you to talk to Yang Nari and convinced her to take that settlement before we could agree to the terms of the merger?” 

Jake laughs. “You, Park Jongseong.” 

“It’s all about working smarter, not harder. Remember that.” 

“Aye, aye, captain,” Jake says with a mock salute.

“Please don’t ever call me that again.”

“Whatever you say, captain.” 

Jay’s mouth quirks. “Go back to the bullpen and finish up the reports. Wouldn’t want you to pull another all nighter.” Jake leaves with a laugh and disappears around the corner. 

The large office with glass doors and windows feels like a familiar set up. His workspace, with his name and title underneath it, feels more like a trophy case than a managerial place of work. His walk to his office from the elevator takes him past the associate bullpen, situated right next to Heeseung’s. This space is his sanctuary and he’d like to believe he performs best under pressure. It’s why he doesn’t mind people peering into his office whenever he’s sitting at his desk. 

The days are long and the work is hard, but it’s the kind of job that makes Jay feel like he’s accomplished something in his life. Coming in as the sun rises and leaving just after it sets doesn’t feel like a sacrifice, nor does it feel like he’s losing out on opportunities when he’s got a bank account filled with zeroes and a penthouse apartment with the same view as his office. If anyone were to ask Jay about his life, he’d tell them he’s pretty damn happy. 

That’s what he tells himself, anyway. Every morning is spent repeating mantras in his head about how far he’s come with the hard work and diligence that came with law school. The late nights and busy weeks spent memorizing cases and writing essays led to his employment as Lee & Associates, where he managed to acquire promotion after promotion through diligent work.  

His newest title itself makes people look at Jay with respect, the kind of attitude he used to strive for when he was a humble law student. His early childhood was spent hearing his father talk about winning in court and the importance of believing in yourself when it comes time to face tough decisions. Jay’s father always advised him to do what he thinks is right, or else he’ll live with a regretful consequence for the rest of his life without the chance of rectifying it. 

Jay’s loyalty and integrity is what makes people revere him. He stands tall and proud, walking into every room like he built the place with his bare hands. There’s never a hair out of place and his wardrobe reflects his luxurious tastes, always a suit from abroad and accessories to match. 

He’s built a good life for himself. His father is still a practicing lawyer while his mother is considering retiring from her wildly successful jewelry business. Jay comes home for the holidays and visits them a few times a month for dinner when he has the time, and he does his best to keep the people around him happy. 

After all, that’s what Jay does best.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

It’s Thursday morning and Jay’s week has gone by without a hitch. His clients aren’t giving him a hard time and he hasn’t had a reason to step into the courthouse at all. In addition, he hasn’t heard any of the associates complain about the workload given to them nor has Jake needed help with a problem for Jay to amend. 

It feels odd to be as calm as he is. Jay wants to welcome it with open arms and sink into his seat until he feels like he’s vulnerable enough to sleep, but he knows that’s not in his job description. Instead, Jay needs to sleep with one eye open. 

“Park,” Heeseung says as he pokes his head into Jay’s offices. “Can you spare a few minutes and meet me in my office? I need to call an impromptu meeting.”

“Sure,” Jay says as he puts a file in his cabinet. “What’s it for?”

“It’s better if we talk behind closed doors. Jake and Sunghoon are already waiting for us.” 

Jay anxiously walks behind Heeseung and fixes his tie, patting it to his chest and smoothing it over in an attempt to distract himself from Heeseung’s cryptic words. He sees Sunghoon and Jake in the office and takes a seat on the armrest of Heeseung’s couch. 

“What’s so important that you need to discuss this in your office with the door closed?” Park Sunghoon, a fellow senior partner, asks. “We didn’t lose a billion dollars overnight, did we?”

“No, but I know you would’ve caught that before that would’ve happened,” Heeseung quips back. “You aren’t our financial expert for nothing.” 

“Damn straight.” 

“What did you bring us in for, Heeseung?” Jake asks. Heeseung takes a moment to gather himself, eyes darting around the office before speaking. 

“It’s about the Hybe Records case.”

“They’re holding a tight leash on people they sign on their main label or subsidiaries,” Jay nods. “Won't settle for a penny less than the recoupment.”

“Which is why a portion of people signed with Hybe came to us to help them rewrite the contracts from here on out,” Sunghoon adds. “Hybe came to us with a bullshit settlement offer and we declined. We’re still working on finding a chink in the armor.”

“Right,” Heeseung says. “What else do we know about the case?” 

“Hybe acts as the bank and their musicians take out a loan to make an album,” Jake says, pacing in Heeseung’s office with his arms outstretched for emphasis. “The artist can use that money however they like and the sales made go right back to the label before they can make a profit.”

“Exactly,” Jay nods, “which is why the label has been terminating their contractual agreement before they can produce the agreed amount of records.”

“Hybe has more than enough money for a buyout.” Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s fucked up.”

“The label keeps the catalog and the money while the musician gets nothing.” Jay frowns. 

“We all know it’s why musicians and idols pick up endorsements or pick up acting,” Heeseung mentions. “I mean, the money they get from other ventures supplements their income that they don’t get from music. But because that’s normal practice and it doesn’t help our sob story angle, I don’t know where else to turn to.”

“We’ve been fighting this day and night for weeks. You’re not telling me you’re dropping this, are you?” Sunghoon asks. 

“Between Jay’s regular clients, Jake’s assisting, my workload, and your cases, we don’t have the bandwidth to fight this. Quite frankly, I don’t trust anyone to work on this but you three.” 

“Is there something we should know about?” Jay inquires. “Did Hybe threaten us?”

“No, nothing like that.” Heeseung sighs. “Look, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m burnt out. Hybe isn’t making this easy on us and we’re running out of time. What I’m trying to say is I’ve consulted with another firm and have hired outside help. We need fresh eyes on this case.” 

Jay nervously runs his hand through his hair. 

Heeseung’s right, this lawsuit is eating up most of his hours and consumes his thoughts when he’s off the clock. The people being affected are anywhere between starving artists and people who can afford to pay him his billables without question. But the greater good is what Jay thinks about and realistically, he knows it would hurt him to see so many people lose their avenue to pursue their passions. 

Hearing stories from clients makes his heart lurch. Each deposition to discuss what happened behind closed doors with label executives makes Jay’s pursuit that much stronger. To know he has the privilege of obtaining a law degree and being able to work in his dream career without much of a hitch makes him feel guilty when he knows the very people sitting in front of him are putting their passions on the line. It makes him work harder.

He’s no longer the law student that slaved away writing essays and pulling all-nighters to accomplish a task that wouldn’t matter in the long run. Now, all of Jay’s efforts matter. His work will be impacted for years to come and he can’t afford to misstep when handling clients. It’s why he feels so strongly about this case and why it’s hard for him to stop thinking about it when he gets home. A penthouse overlooking the city means nothing if he can’t help the people who got him there. 

Jay knows Sunghoon and Jake feel the same way, too. Sunghoon, who came from a similar background to Jay, has always struggled with finding his voice in the business of law. Now as a senior partner with more at stake, he knows his friend will stand his ground if that means his clients walk away with everything they asked for. Jake, a first year associate having graduated law school after taking a few years off from college, is arguably the most sensitive of the three. He loves his work and finds passion in the people he helps represent. It’s why Jay trusts him and why he chose Jake to be his associate in the first place. 

To take action on behalf of his clients means to succeed. Jay knows he comes from wealth and privilege, and he’d likely be just fine if he chose a career that wasn’t law. But his foot is in the door because his father was able to give him a legacy standard at law school, and it would be a shame to let that go to waste as if he didn’t have anything to prove. Jay knows he does. 

“As we already know,” Heeseung begins to say, “we need all the help we can get on the Hybe Records case. They’re the most powerful label in all of Asia and they’ve got their teeth sunk in every Asian market.”

“They’ve got a dozen smaller labels beneath them and they’re always looking to convince independent labels to give up their ownership,” Jay says. “It’ll be hard to reach a settlement for all of them.”

“I know,” Heeseung sighs. He leans on the front of his desk. “I know you guys can handle it. Between the four of us, we can try to win this thing but it’ll take more time than they’re giving us.” 

“Kid genius could probably read up on their files by tomorrow morning,” Sunghoon snorts as Jake elbows his rib cage. 

“Don’t be silly, Sunghoon. I couldn’t possibly do that in a single night.” Jake smirks. “Give me two days.”

“Show off,” Sunghoon mutters with a hidden grin. 

“Even so, it won’t be enough to fight them. Hybe has hired a plethora of lawyers to back them up and block us out.” Heeseung crosses his arm and is sure to maintain eye contact with the three boys in front of him. “It’s important to keep our clientele, but imagine how much business this would bring if we won.” 

“You think that many musicians would hire us?” Jake asks. 

“I think that many musicians care about owning their own music and not having to pay back a recoupment.” 

“The amount an artist has to pay back before they keep their earnings,” Jake says with pursed lips. “Right. That’s really unfair.”

“That’s the music industry for you.” 

“Labels are greedy as shit,” Sunghoon says with bitterness in his tone. “They make a promise to up and coming musicians and swear they’ll be successful by the end of the year, but they don’t really care about that. They’ll give money to make albums but won’t care if these people live or die if they don’t see a late profit.” 

“It’s sickening,” Jake adds. “It should be illegal for musicians having to take endorsements and sponsorships just to pay the bills. They look like sellouts.”

“I don’t like it any less than you guys do,” Heeseung responds. “But that’s the way it works. We just need to find a good enough reason for them to settle with us. We aren’t budging on the recoupment.”

“Well, I’m glad we all agree that musicians shouldn’t have to pay back their loan.” 

“I’m confident in you all,” Heeseung tells them. “Jay, you’re one of my best guys. You close deals and negotiate settlements like no one I’ve ever seen before. Sunghoon, you’ve been an incredible lawyer since the moment we hired you and you’re the only person I don’t have to keep my eye on.” Heeseung turns to take. “And Jake, you’re a gifted associate with a knack for getting people to tell you the truth. I’ve never met anyone quite like you either.” 

“He makes depositions seem like fun,” Sunghoon laughs. 

Jake smiles dramatically. “Nobody can lie to this beautiful face.” 

“What I’m trying to say is,” Heeseung interjects, “is that you’re all incredible lawyers and I’ve never regretted hiring you.”

“There’s always a but,” Jay comments. Heeseung nods.

“But, our best isn’t enough. Our best doesn’t account for the numerous legal and financial attacks Hybe Records will bestow on us. We’ve been thinking big but we need to think bigger. We need to think outside the box.”

“What do you propose?” Jay asks. “We’ve already gotten a first meeting with Hybe and God knows they’ll pressure us to give them an answer soon. I know that they know we won’t budge and are probably working with a counter move as we speak.” 

“We’re bringing in someone from an outside firm.”

“What?” Sunghoon says. “Which one?” 

“Tang-Young,” replies Heeseung. “They’re a powerful firm, as we know, and were one of the few who declined to represent Hybe.”

“We trust them, right?” Jake asks. 

“We do, yes,” Heeseung confirms with a single nod. “Tang-Young have been kind to us and I’d like to believe we’ve been the same to them. We’ve been invited to consult on cases before and they’ve helped us out in the past, albeit it’s been a while. But we need all the help we can get and they were enthusiastic about assisting us.” 

“I don’t know,” Jay says. “Catching someone else up to speed while we’re this far down the line? That seems like busy work. Unless we have another Jake who can read and memorize documents as quickly as he can, I don’t know how much help they’ll be.” 

“Oh, I think you’ll be pleased with our colleague,” Heeseung says cryptically. Jay looks at him with confusion. “You guys trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” says Sunghoon. “I wouldn’t be working here if I didn’t.” 

“Then I’ll need you to trust me when I say the partner working with us is the best in the business. She’s an old friend and someone I confide in, which if you know me, is hard to do unless you work at this firm.” 

“Why are you telling us this?” Jake asks. 

Heeseung sighs. “I’m saying this now because I didn’t have time to discuss the partnership prior to today because of deadlines and we need all the help we can get. A friend from law school, Kazuha, was willing to help us out since we assisted on that auto lawsuit a few months back.” 

“We don’t need to worry,” Sunghoon says. “This is the best law firm in Korea and we have a history of having the highest rate in cases closed successfully. You’re our leader, Heeseung. We know you wouldn’t go behind our backs unless it was important.” 

“We need a miracle for this one,” says Heeseung. “Jay’s already running point on this case but he alone can’t handle the burden.” 

A sinking feeling festers in Jay’s chest. He knows that name–Kazuha–from when he was in law school and knew her family to have built Asia’s largest corporate law firm from the ground up. They’re respectable, highly profitable, and a company Jay would rather not think about because hearing that name reminds him of his deepest regrets. 

His week is offset by Heeseung’s sudden news. Jay has never doubted his elder, especially since Heeseung was a mentor to Jay in his early years of his career, but the hairs on the back of his neck perk up at the sight of Heeseung periodically looking at Jay. He doesn’t think Sunghoon or Jake notices the awkward tension in the room either, too engrossed with talking strategy plans on how to make sure the new, mysterious partner is up-to-date. 

Jay fiddles with the rings adorned on his fingers. The expensive jewelry, some of which are presents to himself and others gifts from his parents, provide a temporary distraction for him. They’re warm to the touch with how often he twists them for every word Heeseung speaks. Jay’s throat suddenly feels too dry. 

“We’ll be fine,” Sunghoon tells Jake, forcing Jay to tune back into the conversation. “I think we’re all on edge because this is by far the biggest case we’ve handled in the past few years.” 

“There are dozens of clients who are filing a lawsuit against Hybe but it isn’t considered class action yet,” Heeseung replies. “We could very well set a precedent if we manage to win this thing.”

“That would put the firm on the map!” Jake exclaims. “Just think about it. If we manage to settle in our favor so that these musicians don’t have to pay the label back, we could set an example so other major labels follow through with no recoupment.” 

“This is why everything’s been kept under wraps and why I’ve had to act before consulting you three.” Heeseung finds a pen from his desk and twirls it in between his fingers. “I love this company. I became managing partner not too long ago and my predecessor took his name off of the door and added mine because he thought I could do something with the firm. You three are people I trust more than anyone else and I wouldn’t have agreed to let you work on it if I didn’t believe we could succeed.” 

Jay can sense the nervousness and anxiety in Heeseung’s tone. In all of his years working with him, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen the man as on edge as he is now. Heeseung cannot manage to sit still and the pen his fingers are distracting him almost like Jay’s rings are. It’s no wonder they work so well together. 

“We can do it, Heeseung,” Sunghoon says in an attempt to quell the atmosphere. “It’s hard and tedious, but what case isn’t?”

“Besides, we have Jay. He is the best closer in Seoul,” Jake vouches, a coy smirk sitting on the edge of his lips as Heeseung merely smiles and shrugs in casual agreement.

The sounds of knuckles rapping on Heeseung’s glass door interrupts their conversation. The image of you standing before him knocks the air out of his lungs.

He’s brought back to when he was a second year law student, struggling in his criminal law class before meeting you for the first time. Your timid and quiet demeanor is nothing compared to the confidence you exude in the present day. Right now, you look put together with your all-black attire and red bottom heels to match. The way you’ve styled your hair allows your face to be seen instead of using it as a tool to hide yourself. Even with all of your perceived shortcomings, Jay remembers you as timid but headstrong. Now, it looks like he’s staring at someone he doesn’t recognize. 

Jay feels innocent again, traveling back to a time before work became the sole focus of his life and before the guilt of what he did to you ate him alive. It feels almost unnatural for him to see you in a professional setting. Sitting in the campus library with opened books or looking at you from across the table of a cheap ramen restaurant is where Jay’s used to seeing you. 

Heeseung’s office is the last place he’d ever expect to run into you. 

The last Jay heard, you were off practicing law in Busan before heading to New York for a few years to consult on Korean-American affairs until your visa expired. He never had the opportunity to see you in court before, not since law school.

There was a time when Jay couldn’t step into a courthouse without wondering if you were inside with him. With every corner turned and every door opened, Jay would anticipate seeing that same beautiful and innocent face locking eyes with him as he stepped into the room. Jay would picture you in those long floral dresses you loved so much staring at him with anger in your eyes, wearing an expression caused by actions he’d never be able to atone for.

Guilt used to eat him from the inside out. The moment his alarm clock woke him up was when the guilt would settle deep within his chest. For a while, this feeling towards the way things ended with you was the reason why he pushed himself to stay in the office after everybody else left, back when he was a first year associate. Guilt led Jay to work three times as hard as everyone else and why he will never leave a stone unturned. 

While that culpability subdued with the time that has passed, none of that matters now. Seeing you in Heeseung’s office with a friendly smile on your face makes that sense of wrongdoing resurface all at once. 

The woman he sees before him is not the woman he remembers. Jay still has the same overly confident, hardworking attitude he exhibited when he knew you back in law school. He’s still the same person who gets tongue-tied when he looks at you and he’s still the same person who regrets never calling you after you both graduated. 

Unlike the disheveled mess Jay remembers from when he last saw you, you’ve become polished. He sees that you’ve grown into yourself with your shoulders held back and head looking straight in front of you instead of casting your gaze to the floor. Your eyes meet everyone in the room, his included. You wear a big smile on your face and take a step forward before bowing towards him and his colleagues. 

Jay doesn’t think he deserves that respect from you.

“Jay’s the second best,” you comment. Even your speech has matured. “I happen to be the first.”

“Everyone, meet Kim Y/N.” Heeseung takes a step forward to return your bow and shake your hand, welcoming you into his office. 

“Y-Y/N?” Jay stutters, eyes widened in shock when he spots you next to Heeseung. 

The reaction is unwarranted and even he can’t believe his words came out like that. Jay pays no attention to Sunghoon and Jake, who look at him with quizzical expressions. Jay can only focus on you, with the way your pantsuit hugs your body and the way your high heels make you stand taller than he remembers you. You’re very confident. Jay wonders what must have changed in the time he last saw you until now.

“In the flesh, Park. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Y/N’s the best chance we got to win this against the biggest record label in Korea,” Heeseung interrupts, forcing Jay to push his thoughts aside. “I don’t need to remind you that our clients are high profile names trying to make a case for musicians who can’t afford to pay back the recoupment. If we lose this, we lose their business. It won’t look good for the company if we don’t secure a public win.”

“A public win means a public loss,” you chime in. “Hybe’s settlement deal is bullshit and we all know it.” 

“Exactly.” Heeseung points at everyone in the room before landing on you. “I know we don’t ask for outside help but we need Y/N. I trust everyone to make her feel welcomed and to give her anything she needs.” 

“It would be an honor,” Jake says before stepping in front of you to bow with his body perpendicular to the floor below him. “Sim Jayeun, but feel free to call me Jake. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He outstretches his hand to you for good measure and is pleased when you reciprocate. His kindness brings a smile to your face.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Jake. I look forward to working together.” The aforementioned nearly falters in his movements as he takes a step back, hearing Sunghoon snickering behind him before you turn your attention to him. “You must be Park Sunghoon. I’ve kept up with your work for a while now. Your work with Kim Mingyu against General Motors was impressive.” 

“All in a day’s work,” Sunghoon says as he brushes his shoulders for dramatic effect. “I’m honored that you know about it.” 

“You saved Mingyu’s reputation for being a whistleblower and forced the company’s hand to not only change their flawed design, but to pay out the victims. You bled that company dry in the process to compensate for the casualties. That’s something worth talking about,” you tell him. “It’s impressive to me.” 

Jay swears he sees Sunghoon blush. 

“Thank you,” says the latter, clearing his throat. “It means a lot that you said that.” 

“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been either.”

Your eyes move towards Jay and he expects to see nothing short of a scowl painted on your lips because the last time he saw you, he remembers Jung Iseul asked him if he loved you in front of thirty of your classmates. 

Jay said no. 

He regrets how he handled it. He wishes he could turn back time and tell Iseul and her friends to leave you alone, and tell her the way she acted was nothing short of childish. Jay would like to believe he’d pull you away from wandering eyes and hold you until your eyes were dry if he was able to turn back time and relive that awful moment, but he can’t. The memory of you looking at him with betrayal in your eyes is what keeps him up at night. 

Jay thought of his own needs before yours, selfishly acting to protect himself from the embarrassment of a public confession instead of thinking about how humiliating it must’ve been for you. Your classmates were never the nicest and often commented on your quiet and shy demeanor. Jay always tried to do his best to encourage you to be the best version of yourself, growing silently frustrated that you’d allow people to say harsh things about your skill sets instead of proving them wrong. What he failed to realize is that you’d grow into yourself at your own time. 

You're not the timid girl you used to be. Jay sees the fruits of your labor standing in front of him. 

When you look at him, Jay’s breath catches in his throat. It’s been years since he last saw you in person and he can only imagine what you must be thinking. Are you seething? Are you angry? Are you here for revenge? Do you still think about that night as frequently as he does? 

Any thoughts of you being spiteful are thrown out the window when he hears you speak in that same, soft tone you always reserved for him. 

“Hi, Jay.” 

He’s quiet for a second too long because he sees Heeseung glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

“Hey.” Jay says pathetically, shifting from one foot to another. “Long time no see.”

“Woah, wait. Do you two know each other?” Jake asks, pointing between the two of you. 

“We shared a few classes in law school,” you explain. “We even graduated in the same year.” 

“Oh, wow.” 

You tilt your head as you look at him. “You seem surprised.” “I’m just shocked that you two know each other,” Jake says. “You have the highest closing rate in all of Seoul and you’re telling me you went to law school with my boss?”

“I’m trying not to take offense to that,” says Jay, who furrows his eyebrows. The atmosphere is too much for his liking and suddenly he feels as if his tie is too tight around his neck. 

“We knew each other a long time ago, but it’s always nice to see a familiar face.” You smile at Jay before turning to Heeseung. “When do I start?”

“Whenever you’d like, but knowing you, you’ve already begun drafting strategies.” 

You grin. “You know me very well, Heeseung.”

“Y/N will be working from our office a few times a week for the next few months to make things easier. She’ll still be handling cases from her firm with an emphasis on the Hybe lawsuit.” 

“Thank you for welcoming me,” you tell everyone before looking at Heeseung. “Care to show me to my temporary office?” 

He smiles. “Right this way.” 

“It was lovely meeting you all,” you say before turning to leave. You pause and turn to face Jay. “It really is nice to see you again.” 

He stands in his spot at a loss for words. It feels as if his feet are planted on the ground with no way to make him move. His mouth might as well be hung open with the way he stares at you and merely nods. Speaking makes him feel like he’s going to choke and say the wrong thing, so he opts to say nothing. 

You exit behind Heeseung without sparing him a second glance and he watches as your figure disappears around the corner, listening until he can’t hear the sound of your voice speaking with Heeseung. His hands are planted firmly in his pocket, the fabric of his suit providing a distraction from the sudden notion of seeing you after all these years. 

He feels Jake and Sunghoon looking at him from the side. Sunghoon merely walks past Jay and offers a pat on the shoulder while Jake enthusiastically stands from his seat and bounces with excitement. 

“You know Kim Y/N? The Kim Y/N?”

“It was a long time ago,” Jay says with a small voice. “We used to be study partners.”

“No fucking way,” Jake swears with his hands on his hips. “How come you never told me? She’s like, one of the most respected lawyers in all of Asia. Did you hear about her work on that Cheong-Smith case back in New York? God knows how tedious working between America and Korea must’ve been. She’s so fucking cool, Jongseong. A badass is what she is. I want to be her one day.”

Jay’s mouth quirks in a half smile. He knows you’ve built a reputation but refuses to read about you in the newspaper or listen to conversation where your name has been brought up. It brings painful memories and no matter how much he chastises himself for being in the wrong, part of him can’t help but hurt and yearn for you. 

If Jake notices Jay’s quiet demeanor, he doesn’t acknowledge it. The former is pacing in Heeeung’s office with his hands rubbing his face as if he’s won the lottery. Jay’s envious of Jake’s ignorance, in a way. He wishes he could forget that night and re-do his friendship with you. Jay wishes he could meet the person you are now if that means rejecting you in front of your classmates never happened. 

“Y/N’s a great lawyer,” Jay finally says. “I’m glad she’ll be working with us.”

“So fucking cool,” Jake whispers in disbelief. He turns to Jay. “I can show her around the office and, you know, show her the ropes.”

“Don’t try anything.” 

Jake puts his arms up in mock surrender. “Hey man, I won’t. Y/N’s someone I view as a mentor. I don’t have weird, unresolved romantic feelings like you do.” 

Jay opens his mouth in disbelief as Jake winks at him before walking out of Heeseung’s office. He sits with his thoughts and wonders if this meeting was a figment of his imagination and if he’d wake up with you halfway across the world and his life being as normal as it can be. 

But he sees you enter your own private space when he walks to the break room and tries not to stare at you too long. It wouldn't be good for his health.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

“This office is pretty nice.” 

Your jaw nearly drops at the sight before you. The tall windows overlooking the city boasts a beautiful skyline with pedestrians barely visible from where you stand. The carpeted floor is plush against the click of your heels and the temperature in the room is just warm enough for you to set your suit jacket atop the armrest of the brown leather couch. 

“It used to be mine before I became the managing partner,” Heeseung tells you. 

“I see. That must be why I like the interior design.” 

Coming back to Seoul six months ago wasn’t your idea. But your visa in America had expired and there was no legitimate reason for you to extend your time abroad. With a heavy heart, you packed your bags and returned to the city with unfavorable memories you hoped to put behind you. 

However, it seems that life finds a way to throw you a curveball and make you face your fears. Returning to Seoul wasn’t for the faint of heart. The familiar sounds of people walking and talking in the street and the scent of street food vendors warmed your heart as best as it could. The memories of your childhood summers spent frolicking in the city because your parents were too busy pursuing their dreams to entertain yours will forever remain a tasteless memory. The sound of squeaky wheels on vendor carts is bittersweet. 

Upon returning, you’d taken a couple of weeks to settle into a new apartment just a few towns outside of the city. The modest apartment is nothing like the penthouse you rented in New York. The amenities were appealing at first, with the tall ceilings and marble statues adorning each room. The affluent neighborhood you lived in felt familiar from your childhood days, although feeling at home wasn’t something you think you could ever do if you lived in a house made of glass. 

The mental images of running inside your parents’ gargantuan household with them nowhere to be seen is imprinted in your mind when you close your eyes. Your mother’s office door that always remained closed and uninviting to anyone but your father and older brother felt demoralizing, as did your father’s study, which was never to be entered. The large house felt more like a fortress than a home. The empty hallways with no one to converse with felt like a prison with your bedroom being your only sanctuary. 

The two bedroom apartment in a modest neighborhood outside of Seoul feels like home to you. The neighbors who garden when it’s warm out and retreat on rainy days feel like friends rather than people you live next to. The children on their way to school wave at you before work and make you promise not to work too late, which is likely why you leave your office at a reasonable hour. If you bring your work home with you and hide behind your curtains as you pretend to watch TV, that’s nobody’s business but your own.

You jumped at the idea of leaving Seoul as you approached your second year in your law career. The idea of exploring a new country in a language you half-spoke felt more exciting than horrifying. Knowing your mentor had recommended you for the apprenticeship served as the encouragement you needed to pack your belongings and say goodbye to your friends, family, and life as you knew it. 

If you’re being honest with yourself, you were running away from your childhood and the wound Jay had opened when he left you alone in front of your classmates. 

That hurtful memory reopened itself when Kazuha pitched the idea of working with Lee & Associates on this case. The both of you know you’re her top choice to fight this battle given your brother’s notable status and area of expertise. Your relation to your sibling is a secret you keep close to yourself with only a select few people in your life knowing, preferring to keep yourself out of the limelight as best as you can. 

Yet the idea of working with Jay made these unresolved feelings bloom at the surface when you thought you had locked them in a box and threw the key away. The sleepless nights were just shy of affecting your work. Day after day, you’d stare at the Hybe Records file to see what information had been gathered, glossing over Jay’s name on each document and each email that was forwarded to your inbox. It hurt over and over again, just like it did when he left you standing alone, never to return. 

But life never works out the way you want it to. Coming back to Seoul was for the best and facing old enemies and seeing old friends is part of your path. Having the grace to prepare yourself makes you reflect on how much you’ve grown in the years you spent away from Korea and that you’re ready to move past the hurdle that’s been keeping you tied down for so long. Or so you tell yourself. 

Heeseung knocks his shoulders with yours. “You don’t seem as shocked to see Jay as I thought you’d be.” 

“I had a few weeks to prepare,” you tell him as the two of you face the scenery in front. “When Kazuha told me I was her first choice to work this lawsuit, I saw Jay’s name sitting at the top of the file.”

“It’s his case, technically. But we all know you’ll outshine him in one way or another.” 

You shake your head. “I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes, Heeseung. I’m just here to do my job.” 

“And see an old friend, I’d assume.” This time, you knock your shoulders against his. 

“Oh, you know it’s always good to see you when I’m on this side of town.”

Heeseung smiles, pleased. “I know it’s been a while since the two of you have seen each other and I hope you know that you weren’t picked for any dubious reasons.”

“I know, Hee.” The man looks at you, tilting his head to assess the true intentions behind your words. “Seriously, I’m fine.” 

“This company would have benefitted from your work,” he replies. “Still, I’m sorry for how things worked out.” 

“That was ages ago,” you wave off. “You really don’t need to apologize for it. I appreciate you fighting to hire me, but Jay has done a wonderful job and you can’t deny that.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No, I really can’t. He’s one of my best. One of the best lawyers in Korea, I’d argue.” 

“What does that make me?” you joke.

“It makes you the best in the universe.” 

You throw a fond smile Heeseung’s way. “It really is nice to see you again.”

“I meant it when I said you could reach out for anything. 

“Most days, I just need a friend.”

Heeseung quirks an eyebrow. “Is that why you text me photos of you baking at three in the morning?” 

“Precisely. What else would I text you about?” 

The man laughs. “I love the ones where your cat sits on the counter to watch. I love Gerry.”

“For the love of God, Heeseung. Her name is Miso.”

“Yeah, but your cat is orange like a tangerine and in my head, Gerry, is a cute nickname for tangerine.”

“You need to re-evaluate your definition of cute.” 

Heeseung smiles at you fondly and tilts his head. He knows he’s looking at a version of you no one in Seoul has seen before. The new person standing before him is confident in herself and her capabilities, no longer shying away from the spotlight. The person you are now could look him in the eye and call him an equal, unlike when you were an emerging teenager dealing with peer pressure and hormonal acne. 

“Your mom calls mine from time to time, you know,” Heeseung says after a short pause. 

You snort. “Oh God. Please don’t tell me Lee Jiwoo cares about what my mother, of all people, has to say.” 

He shrugs. “She doesn’t, but they were neighbors for forty years before my parents moved. I think your mom has some weird attachment to the past.” 

“You’re telling me,” you say as you roll your eyes. “I remember as kids, she’d force me to go over to your house with the hopes that we’d fall in love and get married someday.” 

Heeseung laughs. “God, you were so hung up on Lee Seokmin that you barely paid attention to me.” 

“If I recall correctly, you were head over heels with Kang Ara and that made you a lovesick fool. Who knew you were into older women?”

“She was nice enough to help me with my homework, okay?” Heeseung defends himself as he laughs. 

Recounting childhood memories with you feels warm. When you’d left Seoul in pursuit of a career in America, Heeseung knew you were running away from your problems rather than facing them. He grew up seeing the harsh reality that was strict parents who placed too high of a standard on you whereas your older brother remained unharmed by their lashings and expectations. 

Heeseung always chided the way his friends would tease him when he walked you home from school or offered to make room for you in his house when your parents were home. He’d witnessed the volatile relationship between the three of you and offered his household as a sanctuary for as long as he could. Heeseung’s parents offered the kind of hospitality he wished you could receive from your own parents. 

Still, it feels warm to know you chose to return. Seeing you in your element makes Heeseung think he must’ve done something right all those years ago, even if you briefly lost touch when you moved overseas. 

“I’m really grateful for you, Hee.” You lean your head on his shoulder and cross your arms in front of your chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for being so nice to me when we were kids. You were always so popular with the girls and every guy wanted to be you. I know people made fun of me when we’d walk home from school together. Knowing you defended me and made me feel like a normal person despite my relationship with my parents makes me feel happy.” 

“I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?” Heeseung asks. He feels you nod against him. “It killed me to see you fight with your parents and I didn’t care that Han Bora got jealous of you or that Choi Youngchul made fun of me for having a girl around. You were more than that to me.” 

“I love my brother, I really do.” You bite your lip to keep a sigh at bay. “But he’ll never understand how my parents treated me. I know he loves me and I know he did everything he could to protect me when we were younger, but he still reaped the benefits from our parents.” 

“No apology from them can outdo everything you went through,” Heeseung says. He leans his head on top of yours. “You were my best friend, even if I didn’t say that to you. Everyone at school wanted to be my friend because I went puberty faster than everyone else but you always treated me as the same kid who got a bloody nose after falling face first on the pavement.”

Heeseung smiles when he hears you laugh. “I told you to tie your shoe laces.”

“SInce when do I listen to what you say?” 

You pull yourself from him. “Thanks for always being there for me, Hee. I hope you know I’ll work my hardest to win this case.” 

A knock at the door brings both of your attention behind you. Jake stands politely and bows his head as he enters when Heeseung beckons him inside. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Jake says carefully. 

“Not at all,” Heeseung assures. “Is there something you need?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could give Y/N a tour of the office. I’d love to show her around so she feels more comfortable and familiar.” 

“That’s a great idea, Jake.” Heeseung turns to you. “Why don’t you settle in and make yourself at home for an hour, yeah? Let Jake take you to the cafe that’s across the street and use my company card to pay for it.” 

“I’ll never say no to you paying.” Heeseung rolls his eyes at your playful banter but hands you his credit card regardless. Seeing you this open with him warms his heart. 

“We won’t be long,” Jake assures. 

Jay approaches where the three of you are standing and busies himself in the bullpen when he notices you and Jake walking out of the office. Pretending to be intensely reading a document about finance, Jay prays you don’t see him and waits until the two of you are out of sight to walk towards Heeseung. 

His footsteps feel heavy as he enters what is to be assumed, your office. 

“I already know what you’re thinking,” says Heeseung with his hands in his pockets. 

“Then you know I’m going to ask you what the hell is going on.” 

Jay has seen his fair share of hard moments from the man standing in front of him, whether in court or behind closed doors. He knows Heeseung to be someone that mentors by giving tough love and credit where it’s due, playing the role of a fair judge in the name of building a strong career. Jay is no stranger to people being upset with him, least of all Heeseung. 

“Do I need to remind you that I'm the managing partner and that I don’t need to consult you on my decisions?” 

“You don’t,” Jay begins, “but you know the history I have with Y/N. A little heads up would’ve been nice.” 

“We don’t always get a heads up when the stakes are high, Jay. You know that. I tried to be as forthcoming as best as I could but we only heard confirmation a few days ago and you were out of the office preparing for your briefing.” 

Jay breathes deeply. “You of all people know we left on bad terms.” 

“So you should know that Y/N is like my sister,” Heeseung retorts. Jay can hear the slight venom in his elder’s tone. “I’m able to set aside my differences because it’s my job to do so and because I like you.” 

“Heeseung–”

“Have you ever stopped to consider that you’re the only person making this awkward?” Heeseung asks, looking at Jay directly into his eyes. “Nobody else seems to be having any problems with Y/N joining this lawsuit.

“You are one of the best lawyers Korea has ever had the privilege of seeing, Jay. Hell, this company owes you a lot. But you can’t tell me that Y/N being here has affected you this much to the point of coming to talk to me about it in my office.”

Jay remains silent knowing Heeseung’s right, even if his pride refuses to quell. 

“You made your choice all those years ago and from the looks of it, Y/N seems to have moved on.” Jay nearly chokes at Heeseung’s words. “You need to move on as well, Jay. Do whatever it is you have to do to get your head straight.”

Jay shuts his eyes for a brief second. “It’s really hard, Heeseung. It’s hard to forget.” 

Heeseung’s expression softens. “She’s not seeing anyone.”

Jay abruptly opens his eyes. 

“That is not what I meant.”

Heeseung smirks. “Sure it wasn’t.”

“I’m serious, Lee. I just regret how it all went down and I regret not reaching out after graduation. My parents took me abroad for the summer to celebrate. I was so caught up that I didn’t make time for Y/N.”

“You can still make time for her now.” 

Jay shakes his head. “It’s too late. I’d bet anything to know she hates me.”

“Well, I know for a fact that she doesn’t. If we’re talking about the same Y/N you and I both knew all of those years ago, then you know she doesn’t hold grudges.” 

“But we know she can.” Jay sighs. “You know about her parents.”

“Two people bringing her into this world just to treat her like nothing is far different than a boy not calling her back.” Jay tries to not take his comment to heart no matter how much it stings. “The difference between you and them is that you have the chance to make this right and correct your wrongs.

“But let me make myself clear. You are to work with Y/N and make her feel welcomed during her time on this case. I don’t care how you do it as long as your head is clear and you can work beside her without letting your feelings get in the way.” 

“Understood.” 

Heeseung’s expression softens. “You know I care about you, man. I wouldn’t have agreed to be your mentor if I didn’t think you were worth it.” 

Jay nods. “I know. I just forgot that you two knew each other as well.” 

“You should’ve seen Y/N back when she was in middle school. Still as timid as she was in law school but still the kindhearted person we know.” 

Jay tries to picture what you were like as a child. He’s seen photos of you from preschool until the day you graduated college and wonders if you were the same shy, timid girl he knew you to be before the two of you parted ways. Would you two have been friends in elementary school? What kind of foods did you like to eat? Did you have a happy childhood? 

He knows the answer is complicated. Jay’s assumption is that your parents, who happen to manage the biggest law firm in Korea through defending oil companies, did not value you as much as they valued your older brother. He, who was their prized possession, often tried to pull you into the spotlight with him. Jay remembers you talking about him fondly like he hung the moon in your night sky. It brought him a sense of peace to know there was someone always looking out for you when you were younger. 

After all, your brother was the only form of family who came to your graduation during law school. 

Jay remembers him standing tall, clad in a mask and clothing that made him unrecognizable. He blended in with the crowd and made himself seem smaller than he actually was in order to remain undetectable by people who weren’t you. Jay always wondered why you were hellbent on keeping your brother’s identity a secret and why you refused to share photos of him despite having shown him other pictures of you in your youth, but it made sense once Jay saw him pull the mask down and smile for a picture. 

He knows he doesn’t deserve to ask you how your brother has been or what you’ve been up to since he last saw you all those years ago. Jay feels a lump grow in his throat when he thinks about working with you and having to talk to you about the case against Hybe. He wants to, and he wants to build a relationship with you that doesn’t result in him panicking when you look into his eyes, but he doesn’t know where to start.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Heeseung advises when he notices Jay growing quiet. “You’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jay says with a sigh. “You weren’t the one who broke her heart.” 

“Y/N’s resilient. You and I both know the lengths she went through as a kid and how successful she is now. She wouldn’t have taken this case if she wasn’t willing to work with you. That should be a sign in itself.” 

Jay takes Heeseung’s words into consideration, but it goes through one ear and then out the other. His heart won’t stop beating at a rapid pace and he can’t help but feel like there’s no hope for him at all.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung seems to know you too well. 

The cafe across the street speaks to your soul with their delicious drinks and delectable pastry menu. You buy something for Jake on Heeseung’s card too. He merely looks at you with wide eyes and stutters over his words when he asks if you’re allowed to do that, to which you wave him off and say you’ve known Heeseung far too long for him to care about another fifteen dollars missing from the company funds. 

“How long have you known Heeseung?” Jake asks as he takes a sip of his drink. The two of you sit cross from one another, basking in the atmosphere of the lunch rush hour. 

“Our whole lives, practically. I think his parents moved next to mine way before either of us were born. They always joked that we’d get married and have that fairytale ending.” 

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Is that still happening?”

“God no,” you say, shaking your head. “Heeseung is like a brother to me. He’d walk me to and from school when we were younger and hung out with me, back when I was a timid mess.” 

“I don’t think I could ever imagine you as shy.” Jake blushes when he realizes he’s speaking candidly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” 

“Pray tell.” 

“W-Well,” Jake stutters, “it’s just that, people talk and I know you know that. I’ve heard people brag about what an amazing attorney you are and how you dominate the courtroom. Or, you know, even the opposite, when people would tell me sob stories about losing to you.” 

You stifle a laugh. “I’d like to think I’ve come a long way since law school. I don’t know if Jay’s ever told you, but I used to be very quiet. I kept to myself a lot. I didn’t have enough confidence to talk in class and panicked every time I was picked for a cold answer.” 

Jake shudders. “I hated that. I was somebody who always came prepared to class but being put on the spot made me feel like I didn’t read the material at all.” 

“Confidence comes with practice,” you tell him. “This job has built my self esteem, especially when I moved to New York for a few years. I didn’t speak English very well, just bits and pieces from music I grew up listening to and because my brother is fluent as well.” 

“Do your parents speak English?”

You shake your head. “Broken English. My brother’s a special case. He listened to a lot of rap music behind our parents’ backs and dedicated so much time into learning how to rap in English that he became fluent. He was obsessed with the show Friends, too. I picked up after him.”

“Your brother seems like a cool guy.”

You smile into your cup. “Yeah, he is. He’s part of the reason why I took this case against Hybe Records. It feels right to fight for the underdog, you know?”

“Jay says the same thing,” Jake tells you. It makes your heart twinge. “He’s been my mentor for the past year and I don’t think I could ever thank him for taking me under his wing. I’m sure you know–he’s the type of guy to be fair and just. I never feel like he’s looking down on me, even when I royally screw up and he has to fix my messes.” 

“He used to be really good at talking me down a ledge in law school,” you laugh. “I used to get so hot headed and frustrated every time I couldn't understand a brief or when I’d read for too long. Jay was always the calmer one between the two of us. He’d tell me to take a breath–”

“–and take it easy,” Jake finishes with you. You smile. 

“Yeah, that. I still think about him saying that to me when times get tough. Jay was a big reason why I even graduated law school in the first place.” 

“I thought you graduated at the top of your class?”

“He and I held equal rank,” you explain. “But mostly, he helped me see the bigger picture, you know? Jay always put my goals into perspective and reminded me why I wanted to become a lawyer in the first place.” 

“Why did you?” 

You set your cup down. “It feels right to help other people in ways that can’t be seen. No one talks about financial burden or responsibility. I had more than enough privilege growing up and it’s unfair that the rest of the world will never experience that kind of safety. If I can provide some kind of comfort for people going through tough times, who am I to deny them that?” 

Jake nods. “I understand. I didn’t grow up in a legacy family myself and it makes me feel better knowing there are good people like you who pursued law. I guess that’s also why I wanted to become an attorney. I want to help people and this is the best way I know how.”

“Does Heeseung still make you guys take on two pro bono cases every year?” 

“Three now,” Jake corrects. “But I don’t mind it that much. I love meeting new people and it makes me happy when we secure a win for them.” 

“This job has brought me out of my comfort zone and has made me feel more confident while doing it. I owe a lot of that to Jay and Heeseung.”

“I’d love to learn from you,” Jake says honestly. “Even if it’s watching you in depositions or preparing case files. I feel like I could learn a thing or two.” 

“I’d love that, Jake.” 

He smiles. “I still can’t believe you knew Jay in law school. What was he like? I’ll bet he still had the same, brooding glare when he’s focused.” 

“I think that was part of his charm,” you say with a fond smile. “Girls loved him. I mean sure, he came from a powerful family, but I think people were digging the whole ‘I-Don’t-Want-To-Talk-To-You’ vibe.”

“So how did you two end up becoming friends?” 

“We sat next to each other in our criminal law class and he was struggling with a few cases,” you explain. “I excelled in criminal law while he excelled in intellectual property, which was a subject I needed help in, and we formed a study partnership in our second year.

“I couldn’t really tell you how we got as close as we did, though. We met in the library a few times a week before realizing being in a quiet environment made us too tired to read. We’d find coffee shops all over town and would end our study sessions with a late night dinner before parting ways.” 

“That does sound like the Jay I know,” Jake laughs. “I don’t think I’ve seen him go home before the sun goes down.”

“Everyone knew how diligent he was with his work. He was always so confident in class when answering questions from our professor. I’m pretty sure everyone was intrigued by him. Jay mostly kept to himself until he and I became friends.” 

“I can totally imagine Jay being a lone wolf.”

You laugh. “He was, kind of. We started hanging out without the premise of studying shortly after. He was probably my closest friend at the time.” 

Jake can see a lingering thought behind your eyes but chooses not to comment, instead checking his watch for the time. 

“Oh, we should probably be getting back soon. I’ll show you around the floor so you can get situated before you work.” 

“That would be great, Jake. Thank you for volunteering to do so.” 

On the walk back to the office, your steps become heavier as the reality of your present sets in. Jay, a former crush and confidant, sits just out of arm’s reach. 

You replay the night in your head when Iseul had cornered the two of you at the local dive bar with the rest of your classmates upon celebrating the last final days of law school before graduation. At that time, everyone had received final offers from recruiters and were placed in law firms across Korea, yourself included. 

It hurt to know that there was competition with Jay to join Lee & Associates, and that he was the chosen candidate. It hurt more to know that Jay couldn’t bring himself to reject you in private. 

Iseul’s smile burns in your memory when you recall the way Jay walked away from you. Her wicked grin has etched itself into your mind, especially when you close your eyes. Time and distance has been kind to you, especially knowing she had moved from firm to firm because of negligence on her part, but you reckon there will always be a part of you that will remain standing in that dive bar feeling like no one would be willing to catch you as you fell. 

That sadness planted deep seeds of distrust within you. That melancholy feeling followed you throughout the summertime, especially when Jay didn’t make the effort to call you during the summer that followed graduation. 

It felt beautiful to be wanted by someone as kind and generous as Jay. It felt just as wonderful to be wanted by someone who you considered to be sought after. The brooding, quiet boy everyone thought to be mysterious had an energetic, talkative personality if you got to know him well enough. It was no wonder that you developed a crush on him towards the end of your second year in law school together. 

When you think about it now, it must’ve been sickening to watch you follow Jay around like a lost puppy. You certainly felt like it from time to time. The two of you only shared one class in your final year together but stuck by each other for study sessions nonetheless. Jay was always more popular out of the two of you, always knowing people who passed him by and waving at other law students. It made you feel like you had to live up to a certain expectation and to branch out in order to be seen with Jay, but he always made it a point to tell you that it didn’t matter how many friends you had. You were always going to be his favorite.

You’d always considered yourself as an awkward, stuttering mess when it came to making friends. Something about Jay quelled your fears about socializing and playing the part of an extrovert with his calm tone and soothing demeanor. On most days, Jay was the person who encouraged you to relax and let your thoughts run wild before making brash decisions. He was the first person to listen to you talk about the burdens your parents placed on your shoulders without insinuating you had to be grateful for the life that you were born into. 

You were. You are. But you aren’t grateful for being neglected and being made to feel like being born was a mistake and a burden. 

Jay has seen you at your worst, whether it be tearing up over a low test score or coming back from winter break after a couple of weeks with your family. You’d argue that you’ve been with him at his worst too, having seen Jay cry a few times throughout your friendship from frustration and stress. There was something about your bond that made you believe he trusted you with his heart and soul, and something that made you believe you could trust him too. 

The weight of your parents’ actions, coupled in with Jay’s selfishness, made you numb for a while. 

His silence and the lack of an apology felt like the ultimate betrayal. You deleted his phone number out of anger when you began your position as a first year associate. You kept your head down and used work to distract yourself from the hollow feeling inside of you, often wondering how Jay was doing at Lee & Associates. It hurt to know you didn’t have a relationship with him where you could tell him about your day and discuss the stress of cases within legal limits. It stung to know he likely didn’t care about you enough to repair the bond after not having called you all summer. Deleting his number, as well as all of the pictures and videos you had of him from your phone, felt like the last straw. Jay was no longer going to be in your life. 

It was why choosing to relocate to New York was so easy for you. Physically leaving Jay behind meant running away from everyone who had ever hurt you to start anew in a city where no one knew your name; this was a fresh opportunity to become the confident, carefree person you always yearned to be, the type of person you knew you could be. Having to navigate a new environment in a language you barely spoke strengthened your self confidence and demonstrated your resilience. If you could overcome this, you could overcome anything. 

Seeing Jay’s name in the original Hybe Records case file startled you, but it wasn’t as jarring as you thought it would be. You imagined what you would say to him if you ever got the chance to see him in person again. Would there be screaming? Would you cry? Would your throat close and feel like you were choking on your words if Jay were to have acknowledged you in any way? 

Would Jay apologize for the night he left you? 

The answer, you later found out, was none of the above. Instead, seeing the name ‘Park Jongseong’ caused a flurry of evocative memories to replay in your mind. After years of dealing with the torment of not feeling good enough to keep your loved ones around, the struggle to find who you were in an industry unkind to timid people like you dissipated with every hour spent working. The more you worked, the more you strategized about winning cases. The more cases you won, the more confident you got. 

Taking on the case against Hybe records was already a no-brainer for you. Your brother is far too passionate about music to ever forgive you for passing up a case you know so much about. Not even Jay could have deterred you from working on it. Even so, you’re eternally grateful that seeing his name doesn’t bring up unpleasant feelings like it did once before. 

Jake brings you out of your thoughts when he opens the front door for you. With a bright smile and your guest badge in your hand, you walk past security without a hitch and take a deep breath before following Jake into the elevator and back to the main floor. 

“I think you’ll really like the associates and paralegals,” Jake says to make conversation on the long trip to the fiftieth floor. “Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki are my favorites, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Sunoo’s a first year associate and he’s brilliant,” Jake explains. “He’s quick on his feet and he’s quite bubbly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited to be awake at eight in the morning like he is. Jungwon’s our best parasocial as well. He’s incredibly smart and quick-thinking, and he’s thinking of studying to take the entrance exam to enter law school, actually.”

“Oh wow,” you say with a nod. “That’s incredible. His experience as a paralegal will definitely prepare him for that.” 

“I think so too,” Jake agrees. “Riki’s our legal intern for the summer. He’s passionate about his work and really funny. He’s got a natural charm to him, even if his resting face makes him look unapproachable. You’ll like him.” 

“If Heeseung trusts you, then I trust you,” you tell Jake, stepping out of the elevator. 

“Speaking of Sunoo,” Jake mumbles as he expedites his pace to catch up with the brunette. “Sunoo, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Kim Y/N,” Sunoo says with a perpendicular bow. “An honor to meet you, truly. I’m Kim Sunoo” 

You reciprocate. “I appreciate your kindness, Sunoo.” 

“He’ll probably scream about you bowing to him in the break room,” Jake laughs. Sunoo swats his arm. 

“Yah. Maybe if you were half as cool as Y/N, I’d scream about you in the break room.”

Jake pouts before smiling. “I was just telling Y/N how you’re one of my favorite first year associates.”

“He spoke quite highly of you. I heard that you’ll be assisting on the Hybe case with us?”

“If at all possible!” Sunoo exclaims. “I wouldn’t want to overstep.” 

“Nonsense,” you say as you wave him off. “I’m sure Heeseung will talk to you about this sooner or later. I saw your name on the file when he and I spoke earlier. I have a feeling we’ll be working together quite often, Kim Sunoo.”

The aforementioned blushes. “That would be amazing.” 

“We’ll see you later,” Jake says as the two of you wave goodbye. “See what I mean? He’s a ball of sunshine but his bite is definitely worse than his bark. Sunoo’s incredible when it comes to reading clients to absolute filth.”

“He seems sweet,” you say with a pout. “Who else am I meeting again?” 

“Jungwon!” Jake shouts as he knocks on the glass door with the title ‘YANG JUNGWON | PARALEGAL.’ 

The boy looks up and rolls his eyes before registering you standing behind Jake. You hear him clear his throat and fix his posture before standing, beckoning the two of you into his office. 

“Sorry,” Jungwon apologizes with a bow. “I’m sure that, by now, you know how loud Jake can be.” 

Jake merely laughs. “It’s because I like you, Wonie.” 

Jungwon faces you. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jungwon, your resident paralegal. Let me know if you ever need anything and I’d be happy to help!” 

“Jungwon’s the best paralegal Lee & Associates,” Jake tells you. “It’s why he’s the only paralegal that has his own office.” 

“Anyway,” Jungwon says, hiding a blush from Jake’s compliments, “this is my second year with the company and I know it like the back of my hand. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything.”

“That’s really sweet of you to say, Jungwon, thank you.” 

“Anything for a friend of Jay and Heeseung!” 

“We’ll probably come back to you before the day ends,” Jake says to the younger boy. “Is Riki still on his lunch break or is he in the bullpen?”

“He got back a few minutes ago.”

“Sweet,” Jake says. “Let’s go meet the rascal.” 

Riki and Jake have a closer bond than you expected, with the younger boy greeting his elder with a bright smile and a handshake they seem to have perfected. He turns to you and listens as Jake introduces the two of you before he bows politely. 

“Riki’s from Japan but chose to study here in Korea. He and Jungwon want to take the LSAT together,” says Jake.

“あなたは日本語を話していると思います？” you ask him. I assume you speak Japanese? 

Riki’s face beams.

“はい、そうです,” he says. Yes, that’s right. ?どこでそれを話せるようになったのですか” Where did you learn to speak it? 

“私は高校で学びました。 しかし、もっと練習が必要です.” I learned back in high school. I need a more practice, though.

Riki smiles and shakes his head. “Your Japanese is perfect.”

“Ah, you flatter me too much.” “That was so fucking cool,” Jake says. “You speak Korean, English, and Japanese?”

“Add in a little bit of Spanish and we’re golden.” 

“You’re officially the coolest person in this goddamn office.” 

“I hope our paths cross before your work here is done,” Riki says with another bow. “I need to get back to work, unfortunately.” 

“Please, don’t let me keep you!” Riki smiles at you once again before disappearing into another office. “You're right, I really do like him.”

Jake smiles and points across the room. “The break room is just around the corner and is always filled with coffee, tea, and other snacks. The secretaries at the front of the floor make sure it’s stocked to the brim but if anything is missing, just ask. They’re usually happy to replenish.” 

“Good to know.” 

“Do you need anything else from me or are you ready to win this goddamn case?” 

You smile. 

“Let’s win this goddamn case.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

In the two weeks that have passed by, Jay still hasn't mustered up the courage to speak to you. 

Beyond a polite greeting when the two of you cross paths in the morning, Jay can barely smile at you without his heartbeat betraying him. His chest starts to tighten and his tie feels too tight around his neck when you look into his eyes. If you look deep enough, Jay is sure you see all of the regret he’s harbored for so many years. 

Heeseung has had to tell him to get a grip twice already. Jay isn’t slacking at his job as much as he thought he would. But if his mentor and dear friend could notice how awkward he was acting around you, Jay was sure you could sense it too. 

In truth, Jay doesn’t know how to talk to you. He’s never felt pain like this before. He yearns to hear your voice speaking to him and to converse like once before, but he doesn’t know how to. This obstacle causes pain within Jay, and he wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to say more than a sentence to you before your time with him is over. 

Watching you talk freely with his colleagues is foreign to him. Jay can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re much more confident than you were back when he knew you. The same girl who couldn’t go a few sentences without looking at her shoes is holding eye contact and smiling after she speaks. You don’t cower over your body in an attempt to make yourself look like you’re hiding in your shell. Now, you speak with assertion and hold your chin level with the floor as you hold conversation. 

It’s jarring, but a large part of Jay can’t help but feel proud of you. If there’s one thing he knew you wished for back in law school, it was to grow your self esteem. Having parents who belittle your dreams and spoke pathetically about your life choices didn’t leave room for you to understand what liking yourself looked like. The accolades and achievements your parents were bestowed with felt unnatural when you knew it was only a matter of time before they had something negative to say. As attorneys themselves, defending oil companies who don’t care about oil spills in the ocean or bribing employees to keep a quiet mouth about misfortunes never felt like confidence to you. It was cowardice.  

Seeing your parents in magazines with a perfect picture smile never made you want to emulate them in any capacity. They look like dolls, playing the role of hardworking attorneys and devoted parents until they cross the threshold of your home, letting the mask fall to the floor. Their confidence felt brazen. They didn’t deserve to be your role models. 

Yet, here you are. 

Jay doesn’t notice that he’s been staring at you from his office door until Sunghoon knocks his shoulder with his own. 

“Quit staring unless you want to look like a creep.” 

Jay clears his throat. “I wasn’t staring.” 

“Sure,” Sunghoon smirks. “And I don’t handle the majority of our finances.” Jay rolls his eyes. 

“I know what you’re gonna say and you don’t need to say it. I know I need to talk to Y/N.” 

“You’ll regret it if you don’t.” 

“I know, Hoon,” Jay says. He spares one more glance at you before looking away. “But it’s hard to try when I don’t think I deserve any respect or forgiveness.” 

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it’s obvious that something did happen by how tense you are when she’s around.”

“Am I really that bad?”

Sunghoon nods. “Y/N can tell. She keeps looking at you when you walk away.”

“Shit,” Jay curses. 

“Whatever happened back then was a long time ago. I obviously don’t know her as well as you do, but she’s been a great asset to the team since she joined. She blends well with everybody and leaves her office door open most of the time. Y/N talks to the associates and interns when she’s taking breaks. She wouldn’t do all of that if she wasn’t willing to talk to you.” 

Deep down, Jay knows his friend is right. But it’s hard to convince himself to talk to you when he pictured the agony on your face before he turned around and left you by yourself with the wolves. It makes his heart lurch from left to right. This feeling only quells when you’re out of sight and when he’s distracted with his work. 

“Try,” Sunghoon says. “I know it’s scary, but the universe put her right back in your life for a season.” 

“I know,” Jay says quietly. “Thanks, Sunghoon.” 

“Anytime.” 

Sunghoon leaves and Jay fixes his posture, pushing his shoulders back twice in a row. Jay still thinks you are the most beautiful and selfless person he’s ever seen. Looking at you makes him feel like a small volcano has ruptured within his heart and the cage that once kept his adoration for you hostage no longer keeps him in the dark. Jay isn’t the insecure young adult he was when he knew you. Even he is more sure of himself. 

Jay thinks you look gorgeous now that you’re smiling more. He remembers all the times he used to take candid photos of you during impromptu moments and the squeals of discomfort you echoed when he would try to take a picture. You used to cover your mouth or shy away from the camera as if you were too embarrassed to be caught. But the way you’re smiling to his colleagues and how animated your conversations are seem to make his heart swell to see how far you’ve come. 

Working alongside you in the time that he has makes Jay observant. He’s been in a room with you plenty of times, whether it be for an internal meeting or sessions where each attorney looks through files of documents. You’re still the diligent and hardworking person you were all those years ago. You still tap your pen quietly over the stack of papers and you still like to eat sweets when you’re in the thick of it. When he sees you like this, Jay begins to recall all of the nights spent in the library studying for an exam or rushing to finish an essay before the submit date. Seeing you harbor the same habits you did in law school makes his heart warm. 

For as awkward as it is, Jay is glad that he gets to see you as successful as you are. He always pictured the two of you as lifelong friends back when he knew you for six months. You were reliable and honest, loyal to your core, and passionate about your work and hobbies. He loved to hear you talk because it demonstrated your confidence when the two of you were together. Jay would reckong that he’d fly a great distance if you asked him to have a conversation with him. 

He loved seeing you switch on for him. One look at you and you were smiling with your eyes closed. Jay adored the way you’d laugh every time he said something mildly embarrassing or the way you would subtly blush whenever he got up early enough to buy you something from the cafe near his apartment. Jay knew he made you flustered from time to time and it brought him great joy to see you look at him like you didn’t know what to do with yourself. 

When he made the executive decision not to call you three months after graduating, Jay wondered if it was cruel of him to revel in the way you reacted to him. His heart felt lighter when you smiled at him while making eye contact. He didn't mind carrying your purse when the two of you hung out or remaining the more sober of the two whenever he drank with you. It felt so natural to look after you like that despite not having many people in his life to do that for. It gave Jay a sense of purpose to do so, going as far as to seek for you when you weren’t with him. 

He always felt selfish for teasing you with the purpose of seeing that shy smile and seeing you look away from him in an attempt to stop laughing. You looked so beautiful when you were bashful, so humble too. Jay prayed for borrowed time because seeing you between classes wasn’t enough. He always thought you were too cool to hang out with him no matter what other people said because you had a million passions and could talk his ear off about everything and nothing at the same time. 

Realistically, Jay knows he can talk to you whenever he wants to. You’ve been mad at him before and have done days without talking to him, but when he took the time to reflect and apologize to you the way you deserved, you always let him back into your hold. Jay knows he has the opportunity to strike up a conversation since you both have been working together for a couple of weeks. He knows you won’t dismiss him. 

But when he sees you laughing with Sunoo and Jungwon in the bullpen from his office, he can’t help but think about just how little he knows about you and how much you don’t know about him. Jay knows it’s his fault since he put the distance between the two of you. Yet here you are, talking to people he’s known for years like you’ve known them all your life. 

Jay can talk to you, but it won’t be today.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Luck is (or isn’t) on his side when the two of you jump into each other while trying to open the door to the cafe across the street from the law office. 

Regretfully, Jay wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking, as his nose was buried deep in an email he was reading as he motioned to pull the door open. It was then he realized he’d bumped into someone. It took him a few seconds to register he had humped into you. 

“Oh,” you say, startled. 

“Shit,” Jay curses. “I’m sorry. I, uh, wasn’t watching where I was going.”  He pockets his phone. “I should really start doing that.”

“You’re lucky I don’t have coffee in my hands,” you say with a laugh. “It’s fine, Jay.” 

You let him pull the door open for you after he corrects himself. With his head, he gestures for you to enter first and you give a polite smile as a silent thank you. Jay forces himself not to audibly sigh behind you, instead choosing to glance at the ceiling and pray he doesn’t say anything stupid. 

He meets you at the cashier line and notices what you’re wearing. Your forest green dress hugs you in a respectable way, contouring to the ridges of your body. The color looks gorgeous against your skin tone, as does the color of your jewelry. Your coat is dangling from your arms and your hair is styled in a way that makes you look almost glamorous. 

“You look stunning.”

To his horror, you look back and catch him looking at you. 

“Thank you,” he hears you say after a long pause. Jay feels his cheeks reddening. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “That was weird, wasn’t it?” 

He’s surprised when you shake your head.

“Not weird at all. I bought this dress and took the tag off prematurely. I wore it today so I could get use out of it since I’d spent so much money on it, so I’m glad someone likes it.” 

That same, shy smile adorns your face. But this time, you aren’t looking away from him. That makes Jay’s heart flutter and for once, he feels like he’s got a shot at making things right with you. 

“You really do look stunning,” Jay tells you as he looks you directly in the eye. He doesn’t dare let his gaze wander. 

Before either of you can say anything, the cashier is waving you towards the counter. He doesn’t think twice about pulling his wallet out and hanging it to the employee behind the counter when you finish ordering, quickly saying his own order before smiling at you. 

“You don’t have to pay for me,” you tell him. 

“I know,” he says with a meek smile. “But let me, yeah?” 

You don’t fight him on it, namely because the employee has already used his card by the time you could even think about pulling your own out. Jay ushers you to the side where the waiting area is and puts his hands deep in his pockets. 

The two of you are quiet for a while. It’s semi busy and the sound of chatter and steaming milk reverberates around the room. Jay looks at you through the corner of his eyes and sees you looking at your watch for the time. If he's to say anything, he needs to say it now. 

“It’s good to see you again,” is what Jay settles with. You turn to look at him. “I didn’t realize you were the borrowed partner. It’s good to see that you achieved your dreams.” 

You don’t know how to respond. You choose to respond honestly. 

“It makes me happy knowing that we both made it,” you tell him. “Heeseung told me he promoted you to senior partner a few months ago. That’s incredible.”

“Not as incredible as being the youngest person to be named senior partner at Tang-Young.” Jay smiles at you. “That’s incredible.” 

“It feels that way,” you tell him earnestly. “I used to think days like these were far-fetched, like I’d never be named senior partner or have my foot in the door. It feels crazy to feel put together for once.” 

“I know the feeling,” Jay agrees. “I have my own place and haven’t had any help from my parents since I graduated law school. I’ve been on my own for a while now.” 

The barista calls out your orders. Jay lets you pick up your beverage before he takes his. 

“Do you ever think about when you were a first year associate? I think about sitting in the bullpen all the time. Sometimes it feels wrong to have my own office.” Jay opens the door for you and lets you walk outside first before he follows. 

“I picture myself out there when I first joined the firm,” Jay confesses. “I was so young and naive…I didn’t have a clear picture of what I wanted to do with my career yet.” 

“It’s insane how much time has passed,” you comment, looking both ways before crossing the street. Jay doesn’t think you say it as you do on purpose, but emotions tug on his heart strings. “I feel like I was just a first year associate only a few days ago.”

Jay swallows harshly. “A lot has changed. Some for the better…some for the worst.” 

You finally look at him when the two of you reach the other side of the road. He doesn’t like talking in tongues or minding your language when he speaks to you because he wants to apologize. Jay has spent the last few weeks dreaming about what he’d say to you or what he’d do to make up for his shortcoming years prior but he doesn’t know how to start. He doesn’t know what he should do first or if you’d consider hearing him out. 

Today is an indication that you might be, is the conclusion Jay comes to. 

The cliches of time slowing down is what he feels when you stop to look at him. He feels like you’re staring through his soul, almost as if you’re inspecting him from head to toe. Jay doesn’t know what you’re thinking and he’s too afraid to ask. He can’t tell what’s going on in your head with your emotionless expression, rocking back and forth to keep his balance. 

Did he say the wrong thing? Jay bites his tongue and wishes he could wake up from whatever dream he’s having. This doesn’t even feel real. He can barely hear the sound of taxis and people around him through the thumping of his own heart. Jay can’t see anyone else but you, so he reckons he could open his eyes and still be in his bed. 

But he blinks and you’re still standing in front of him. 

“Things might’ve changed and so do people. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” 

He watches you walk towards the entrance of the building and forces himself to jog until he’s walking next to you. Jay catches himself and tries not to bump into the people walking in the opposite direction as him. When the two of you are back on the fiftieth floor, you bow to the secretaries and greet Heeseung and Jake, who are standing next to one another. 

“Oh good,” Heesueng says, “Y/N, you’re here. I know you have to appear in court in a few hours and I was wondering if you’d be willing to stop by Attorney Ahn’s office.”

“Ahn?” you ask him quizzically. “What for?” 

“We secured an agreement for them to hand over the Hybe’s contracts. They didn’t want to disclose and Ahn tried hard to block this from being filed, but I think Judge Han allowed it to pass. Do you think you could grab the box from his office?” 

“Sure thing,” you tell him with a nod. “I should be leaving in about an hour. No idea when I’ll be back, but I planned to put in some extra hours. Might as well get a head start by looking at those files.” 

“You’re a lifesaver,” Heeseung praises before walking back into his office. 

“I’m kind of offended neither of you invited me to get coffee,” Jake says as he hands Jay a manila folder. 

“Maybe if this file was on my desk yesterday, I would have,” Jay says with the quirk of his mouth. 

Jake shakes his head dramatically. “Do you see what I have to deal with, Y/N? It’s like he wants to punish me.” 

“Punishing you would be making you go to housing court three times a week, but I don’t,” Jay retorts. “Instead, you get to work with the big kids.”

“Atta boy,” Jake says as he elbows Jay’s side. “But seriously, I want an invite next time.”

“We ran into each other this morning but how about you and I go together tomorrow morning, say around eight?” 

“I think you’re my favorite attorney!” Jake exclaims. 

You turn to Jay. “You’re welcome to join us.” 

“Yes,” Jay accepts immediately. “Yeah, uh, I’d love to join.” 

“Great.” You look between them with a pleasant smile. “Well if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to prepare for trial. See you this afternoon?” 

“Count on it,” Jake says with a mock salute. 

You leave the two of them and Jake watches as his mentor forces himself to pry his eyes off of you. In the duration that he’s gotten to see you and Jay work alongside one another, Jake has never seen his mentor at a loss for words before you started to work in the same office. The younger boy looks between the two of you before slipping back into Jay’s, waiting for him to follow suit. 

Jake joined Lee & Associates as a first year associate. His designated spot in the bullpen felt scared to him, like it was the one place in the entire office that didn’t make him feel like a belittled mess. Law school was over and Jake couldn’t help but feel nervous about practicing law in the real world where the consequences would be more fatal than a bad test score. 

Jay was in need of an associate at the time and there didn’t seem to be anybody who could step up to the plate and deal with Jay’s on-and-off personality, along with the fast pace he kept when working. Before getting to know him, Jay was someone unreadable to Jake. He felt untouchable even though his desk was right in front of the bullpen with the glass doors separating the two of them, mimicking something as dramatic as The Great Wall. 

Yet he finds himself seeing Jay like a brother after the time spent together. Jake knows his mentor is anything but a stone cold, hardened attorney people make him out to be. Jay prefers to keep his emotions closer to himself rather than on his sleeve for people to notice at first glance. He loves loyalty and honesty, and will go to great lengths to award people who stand beside him through tough times. 

It’s why Jake can see the conflict in Jay’s eyes when he sees him looking at you. Jay’s stare is far away, almost as if he’s looking at the spot you stood in to yearn for what he once had. It takes him a moment or two to collect himself and continue with his day. 

Jay clears his throat when he realizes he’s been quiet. 

“Do you have the briefing for the damage collection case?” 

Jake stares at his friend. “I’ll give it to you if you tell me what’s going on between you and Y/N.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Jay sputters in an attempt to seem calm. His heart is beating twice as fast. Jake merely shakes his head. 

“Nah, man. You look at Y/N like you’re seconds away from telling her you’re in love with her.”

“I am not in love with her,” Jay defends immediately. He sees Jake raise his eyebrow and disconnects eye contact. “We used to know each other in law school and now we aren’t as close anymore.”

“See, that’s the thing. I know that. Everyone else knows that too. But there’s something neither you nor Y/N are acknowledging and there’s tension in the air whenever you two are in the same room.”

“There’s no tension.” 

Jake deadpans. “There’s so much tension. Even Riki can sense it.” 

“Don’t bring interns into this.” 

“I’m not bringing anyone into anything,” Jake replies. “It’s you and your weird mojo that needs to be fixed.”

“My mojo?”

“You’ve been off kilter for the past month,” says Jake. “I’m your right hand, you know? I’m with you for ninety percent of the week. I can tell when something’s bothering you.” 

Jay sighs. “It’s complicated, Jake. I…did some things in the past that I wasn’t proud of and I can’t bring myself to talk to Y/N, especially knowing how it all went down.”

“You don’t have to be so cryptic about it,” Jake says sarcastically. 

Take a seat,” Jay instructs. “You’ll want to sit down.” 

Recounting the story to Jake makes Jay feel like he’s telling a juvenile story about two lovestruck teenagers who were too immature to know any better. He feels the guilt rising to the surface all over again, as if he were shaming his younger self for acting so selfishly. 

Truthfully, Jay knew you didn’t deserve to be treated the way he treated you. He viewed you as the epitome of sunshine even if you didn’t believe him on most days. Your quiet demeanor hid a blooming flower. You deserved more than a coward who couldn’t own up to his feelings. 

They stay in Jay’s office, foregoing the workday to discuss what happened the night he left you and what transpired in the summer that followed. Jay tells Jake that he and his parents hopped on a flight abroad a few days after graduation. He tells him how you were always at the forefront of his mind and how that sad look in your eye imprinted in his mind every time he closed his eyes. 

“Shit,” Jake says, leaning back to clutch against Jay’s chair. 

“Indeed.” Jay averts his attention to the city below his office from his window. “I don’t know how to act around her. She walks around like nothing happened between us but when I look at her, all I can picture is that look on her face when I walked away.”

“Have you ever considered that Y/N has moved on?”

Jay shakes his head. “Heeseung said the same thing but this isn’t something you get over, Jake.”

“You said it yourself, though. Y/N is a resilient person. You just told me what you admired about her most was that she could see the bigger picture and react accordingly.”

“I used to think she never had the guts to stand up for herself when people were meant to her,” Jay confesses. “I’d get so frustrated and we’d get into arguments because I’d tell her she doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. But Y/N would always tell me that some battles aren’t worth fighting. I never understood it then.” 

“And now?” 

Jay sighs. “Seeing her here, making friends with all of the associates and walking into Heeseung’s office like she owns the place, makes me realize she always knew what she was talking about. I mentioned she didn't have a great relationship with her parents, right? Well, I think part of me always forgot that since I had a great relationship with mine. I was more vocal than she was. I didn’t have a problem telling people off if they deserved it. 

“But she was quieter. Maybe it was by nature or maybe it was because she didn’t like talking unless she had a reason to. I don’t know. But when I look at her now, I don’t see that angry, frustrated person anymore. I can’t begin to describe it. It’s like she broke out of her shell and became a completely different person. More confident, I’d say.”

Jake nods. “You know, she told me and Sunoo that she has a tattoo of a butterfly on her hip.” 

“A butterfly?” 

“A butterfly. A monarch, I think. Anyway, the type doesn’t matter. It’s just funny that you think she’s come out of her shell when butterflies start out as caterpillars and have to go through their metamorphosis period before becoming a butterfly.” 

Jay bites his lip in contemplation. Jake continues. 

“Monarch butterflies migrate to warm weather once a year because they can’t survive the cold. They fly in groups, hundreds of thousands at a time and build communities. Y/N did the same thing, if you think about it. She left Korea to find herself in New York and returned when she was ready.” 

“I never thought about it like that,” Jay says. “I knew she was working from New York but I always thought it was to get away from me.” 

“Maybe in the beginning,” Jake adds. “Maybe Y/N needed to get away from you, her parents, and her life as she knew it to find the person she was always supposed to be.”

“I will never forgive myself for not calling her after we graduated.” 

“You don’t have to, but I think Y/N has.” Jake leans his elbows on Jay’s desk and looks the man in the eye. “Look, I know I haven’t known her for as long as you have, but in the month we’ve worked together, I’ve learned a lot from her. I’ve seen her talk to the opposing counsel in depositions and learned that she can get to the point without saying much. She’s really confident in herself and is almost always willing to help associates when they approach her.

“What I’m trying to say is, you need to let go of the person you once knew and the person you were back then. You and I both know how far you’ve come in your career and I’m sure Heeseung knows how much you’ve changed as a person since you graduated. But you can’t keep living in the past if you want to move forward.”

Jake’s right and Jay knows it. Every day, he wakes up and his first thought is the memory of you averting your eyes from him at the graduation ceremony. He thinks about his wrongdoings more often than he’d like to admit and can’t seem to move past this feeling of inadequacy when it comes to you. Jay contemplates on whether or not he deserves your respect or forgiveness, the unknown being the obstacle that prevented him from apologizing to you in the first place. 

But he needs to let that go. He’s not the person who decides whether or not he deserves forgiveness. You are. 

You are the person who dictates how you feel. Not Jay, not anyone else. For the past month, Jay has been overthinking about how to talk to you if it’s not related to the litigation. He can talk to you when it’s in conjunction about the Hyb case, but he can’t talk to you about anything else.

Jay needs to start trusting you and your judgment in a way he couldn’t before. But unlike now, Jay wasn’t in your crossfires all those years ago. The version of him during law school never gave you a reason to overcome the loss of a friendship. In order to understand you better, he needs to stop thinking about you the way you were back then. For right now, you’re a stranger he knows everything about. 

“You’re right,” Jay nods. “I’ve been so caught up in dealing with this shock that I forgot Y/N’s had to deal with it longer. It makes sense that she isn’t as shaken up as I am.”

“She’s smart and way more perceptive than you give her credit for. I think Riki’s about to ask Y/N to adopt him because she keeps talking to him in Japanese.” Jake smiles. “Speaking of which.” 

Jay quirks his eyebrow. “Speaking of what?” 

“You so clearly still have feelings for Y/N.” Jay opens his mouth and immediately closes it. 

“Lying to you would be useless, wouldn’t it?” 

“I’m also more perceptive than you think. That, and you talk about her like she saved your cat from a tree, or something.”

“I can’t help it,” Jay sighs as he rubs his face. “Being around Y/N makes me feel the way I did all those years ago. I don’t think I ever got over her. She had this ability to keep people in her grasp, you know? Once you peeled back her layers and looked past her shy personality, there she was. Now, it’s like watching everyone else meet the Y/N i knew she always was, just more openly. It’s weird to see her talking to everyone but in a good way, you know? She’s not apologizing for who she is anymore.”

“Like I said,” Jake says, “Y/N’s a butterfly.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Later in the afternoon, Jay stops responding to emails when he feels his eyes getting tired from looking at his laptop. The conversation he had with Jake weighs on his mind with every passing hour and his leg bounces with anticipation for your arrival back to the office. 

Throughout the entire day, he’s been reminding himself that he has also grown and matured since the last time you saw him. He’s no longer somebody who hates conflict and speaking his mind. His job has taught him the value of saying what you mean and sticking to an argument until the very end. Jay’s tendency to falter in himself has diminished over the years, especially since working at a legacy company such as Lee & Associates. 

His success as an attorney plays a factor in his confidence, too. Seeing his father in the courtroom inspired him as a child to pursue a career in law so that he may one day fight on behalf of people who don’t have a voice themselves. Never in his wildest dreams did Jay ever think he alone could make a big difference in the lives of others but he sits behind his desk with a promotion just shy of having his own surname on the door in the main office. 

Jay’s job means everything to him. It means working hard after spending countless days and nights stressing over cases and essays in law school. It means working with his colleagues to bring out the best in people and take down companies who value profit over people. It means making a difference in the lives of those who aren’t as fortunate as him. If Lee & Associates wasn’t as philanthropic and as morally-good as Jay would’ve hoped, he doesn’t know if he would’ve said yes to their offer when it was offered to him. 

He decides to take a break and head over to the break room when he bumps into Sunghoon, who has a scowl  etched on his face. 

“Hoon,” Jay says, tugging on Sunghoon’s arm to force him to stop walking. “Are you alright?” 

“No,” he mumbles. 

Jay’s eyebrows contort in confusion. “What’s happening? Is there anything I can do? Talk to me.” 

Sunghoon sighs. “It’s nothing you can fix, unfortunately. Remember when Heeseung asked Y/N to get the Hybe contract files from Ahn?”

“What about it?” 

“Y/N met with him in his office and he sent her home with one box.” 

“I don’t understand why that’s a bad thing.” 

Sunghoon points behind Jay, who sees a room filled to the brim with boxes. 

“He sent the rest here.” 

The two men walk over to the office and see you standing next to Heeseung with both hands on your hips. You look just short of enraged. Jay swears he can see steam coming out of your ears. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jay says as his eyes scan the boxes piled on top of one another. “How could we possibly get through all of this?” 

“Hybe’s burying us in paperwork so we look unprepared in our next meeting,” you say in disbelief. “I wish I could’ve slapped that smug look off of his face when he gave me only one of the damn boxes.” 

“We might have to fight about who gets to do that.” Heeseung curses under his breath. “We’ve got two weeks before our next hearing to determine the next step in the settlement.” 

“It looks like they’re gonna win,” Sunghoon grains from beside Jay. “They’re not giving up the recoupment clause.” 

“The answer is in here somewhere,” Jay adds. “We just have to find it.” 

“We’ll be up all night.” You look somewhere between defeated and determined, although Jay isn’t sure which is which. 

“Not if we work together,” says Jungwon, who has Sunoo and Riki standing behind him. The five of you look behind you to see them standing in the doorway. “We want to help.” 

“We can’t possibly ask you to do that,” Heeseung says. “I know the expectation is that you stay later than six in the evening, but this is too much to ask of you guys.”

“You aren’t asking,” Sunoo insists as he sits down in front of Heeseung. “Jay and Jake already have me working on a few of the case files. It makes sense to have another set of eyes that knows this case well.” 

“I want the practice as well,” Riki agrees, taking a seat next to Sunoo. “Jungwon and Sunoo have been teaching me how to read these types of documents and pull relevant information out of them. I’d really appreciate the experience.” 

“You’re sure about this?” Jay asks. 

“We’re positive,” Sunoo confirms. 

“Well, you guys can go home at any point,” Heeseung says. “This goes for everyone in the room. God only knows how much bullshit we’ll have to dig through.”

The sun starts to wane over the blue sky when Jay decides he needs a change of scenery. He’s been sitting in the same chair for a few hours at this point and desperately craves the sweet melodies of soft jazz from his vinyl collection. He excuses himself and lets everyone know he’ll be in his office if anybody needs anything. 

You watch him stand up from where you’re seated and as he walks out of the room. You must admit, Jay still looks criminally handsome. That tendency to cower into yourself whenever he looks at you is still present today, especially when he makes room for you to speak during depositions and internal meetings. 

For a while, you were hellbent on making an enemy out of Jay for what he did to you. The person you were before leaving Seoul was somebody who would likely paint Jay as a target and a villain for life. The friends you made in New York would entertain you in conversations about boys who have a tendency to break hearts and you always had a story to share. 

Even so, time has been kind to you. The years spent focusing on your career and your loved ones has molded you into the kind of person who can see people for who they are, not what they’ve done and have atoned for. Jay has worked all his life to prove himself worthy of being somebody who can take care of himself and stand on his own two feet. In a way, you’ve done the same thing. 

Half an hour goes by before you decide you need to stretch your legs. You make the bold decision to take your work with you and pay no mind to Heeseung, who winks at you on the way out. 

Approaching Jay feels like a mix between normal and anxiety inducing. Seeing him hunched over his desk with a scowl on his face as he concentrates is nostalgic to you, and it makes you remember all the times you’d search for him after your classes ended just to find him in the library with a gargantuan book beneath his focus. His hair still falls as perfectly as you remember it and he still twirls his pen in his fingers like he used to. 

It brings a set of uneasiness to your stomach. You’ve spent years trying to forget Jay before coming to the conclusion that you could never forget someone who once meant so much to you. All of the hatred you harbored for the man you held deep feelings for dissipated when you remembered that he too was growing and trying to find out who he was aside from all he once knew. 

Gathering the courage to knock on his door, you force yourself to do it before you convince yourself to back out. 

Jay looks up at you like you’re the last person he expected to see. It makes your stomach drop. 

“Sorry,” you mutter when he doesn’t motion for you to enter. “I’ll go.” 

“No!” Jay says immediately. He clears his throat and puts his pen down, waving you into his office. “Come in, please.” You walk inside and close the door behind you, the sound of soft jazz is reminiscent of the times you used to study with him in his apartment. 

“I needed a break from sitting in the same spot,” you tell him, standing before his desk and looking at the decor around the room. “I see you still love collecting vinyls.”

“My collection has definitely grown,” he laughs. You feel his eyes watching you explore his office before you find your way to sit in the chair in front of him. 

When the air settles around you, a sense of nervousness washes over your body. Suddenly, you can feel your entire weight on the chair you’re on top of. You can hear the clock that resides from just outside of his office and your mouth becomes too dry to handle. 

You’re not sure why you’ve come to see Jay. You don’t know what you’d say to him. All of those nights you imagined a great big showdown where Jay would fall to his knees and apologize to you, just for you to refute his attempts, don’t matter anymore. You look back at yourself and think of it as silly even though that’s what you needed at a time. But part of growing up and learning about who you are is realizing your capabilities and strengths. Being able to reconcile with the past that hurt you without feeling pure anger towards the cause was arguably the hardest thing you’ve done. 

You two are grown versions of your unsure, unconfident selves. The wall you spent your teenage years building has fallen down with time, knowledge, and grace. Two beings achieving a high clarity of peace is what’s left in this room. 

It isn’t that you forgive and forget. Rather, taking the time to heal and forgive Jay for embarrassing you has made you realize there are worse things than a memory filled with people you aren’t in contact with anymore. Nobody in your life knew about what had happened because you hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with anyone, and no one did the same with you. The shame and burden you carried and blamed on everyone else was misdirected. It was your own insecure nature and unconfident persona that prevented you from healing. 

Separating oneself from the pair of people who stripped away your confidence was the lowest you ever felt. The violent words echoing through your ears after a particularly bad test in high school broke your heart for the last time. You would no longer hold any room in your heart for another chance. The pieces of you that shattered onto the floor were swept away, never to be seen again. 

You kept your head down for the years of the time you lived with them. There was no use to talk back and fight to be seen by them, even if it was to glare at you for misbehaving. It came to a point where even unloving attention from your parents was enough, settling with the notion that you wouldn’t get what you asked for as you wanted it. 

But having realized sweet ignorance was bliss made you sick to your stomach. It made you ashamed to know you had spent so long wishing the people who brought you unto this Earth would look at you. The realization that changing everything about yourself would do nothing but damage in the end, taught you more than you could ever sum into words. It didn't matter if you were loud or quiet. They would never look at you the way they looked at your older brother. 

It was hard to come to terms with it. Everyday was a battle against immense frustration and turmoil as you tried to navigate your way as a young adult without the opinions of your parents shoved down your throat. They’d already expected the best out of you, so perhaps being interested in law was the only thing you’ve ever done that made your parents feel as though you were worth celebrating. 

Separating yourself post-high school and college was easier than ever before, especially when they hadn’t shown up to your law school graduation. 

That final nail in the coffin is what solidifies what remained of the relationship. You wouldn’t see them save for holiday parties to save face, especially when your colleagues and mentors were good friends of theirs. The posed smiles and awkward conversations were part of your way to make connections and play the game before you ended up crying on your bathroom floor. Playing the part of an obedient daughter only to turn into a stranger to your parents was a role you were likely born to play.

“I was wondering if I could look through the paperwork with you.” 

Jay’s eyes widen. “With me?” 

“Only if you want to! I mean, it was always nice to work with you in the library all those years ago. I thought it might be a nice change of pace.” 

Jay looks at you through his lashes and can’t believe the grace he’s been given to have you approach him before he got the chance to. The unexpected load of files put a dent in his plans. It seems, however, that somebody is looking out for him, 

“I…I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Jay says. It’s as if the filter on his mouth has disappeared because he can’t stop talking about what he’s thinking about. “I didn’t know you were the person who was going to help us out on this case and seeing you for the first time in years made me think about when we were kids. I probably don’t have the right to say this, so forgive me, but I really missed you.” 

That shy smile he always knew you to have adorned your lips. 

“I missed you too,” you tell him. “There are a lot of things I’ve done that I wish I could have shared with you. Although I admit I had a few weeks to prepare seeing you before I officially said yes to helping with this case.” 

“I used to think about what would happen if I ever saw you in court,” Jay confesses. “I’d like to believe I’d say hi, or something.” 

“I probably would’ve done the same thing. Do you still play guitar?” 

“Every chance I get,” Jay smiles. “I’ve added a few electric and acoustics editions to my collection. I have an entire music room back at home.” 

“I always remembered you being so musically gifted. If you didn’t become a lawyer, you probably would’ve been a successful musician.” 

“You always flattered me too much.” 

“Why stop now?

Jay smiles at you. “Do you still want cats?” 

“I have a cat called Miso. I’ve had her for a few months. She’s still such a small baby. Is it bad that I’m considering getting another one?” 

“Not at all,” Jay agrees. “But three might make you a cat lady.” 

You pretend to weigh your options. “I’ll think about it.” 

“I can’t believe you lived in New York for a few years. I remember you loving the big city.” 

“I think I’ve changed a bit,” you tell him. “I love the hustle and bustle, but living in Manhattan made me realize I miss living away from the noise. I like traveling into town and having the option to leave it, you know?”

“Definitely,” Jay nods. “My place is in a high rise so I don’t hear construction noises or birds chirping when I want it to be quiet. I got the chance to move in a few years after I started my job here.” 

“I live just on the outskirts of Seoul. It’s a good sized neighborhood in a family town. I like that it’s so quiet. I usually hear children who live in the houses play on the streets on weekend mornings.” 

“That sounds like quite a peaceful life.” 

You smile at him like you know something he doesn’t.

“Yeah, it really is.” 

“Do you ever think about how long ago law school was?” you ask. “Sometimes I pinch myself when I’m given big responsibilities. I pinched myself over and over again when I was named senior partner and nearly gave myself a bruise.” 

“I see the associates in the bullpen everyday and think about how that was me ages ago,” Jay responds. By now, he’s turned his attention from the document to you. “I used to be an insecure prick who pretended to have everything under control. I was so desperate to prove myself. I’m sure you know how that feels. I don’t think I got a wink of sleep in the first four years of my career.” 

“You and I both. I think my life got more stressful when I started my career. Law school did not prepare me mentally for what it was gonna be like. 

“But it’s rewarding, right? I feel like I’m doing something good with my life. And you know Heeseung, you know he wouldn't sign off on clients who are morally corrupt.” 

“It feels incredible, honestly. Being able to help people makes me feel like I’ve served a good purpose. I used to think about texting you all the dumb mistakes people made when I was a first year. It’s hilarious to know how many professionals can’t remain professional.” 

Jay’s smile weakens as his guilt creeps back into his mind. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly yet firmly.

You look at him. “I know. Let’s focus on the case, yeah?”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Arriving at the office as the sun is peeking from the horizon is not a new phenomenon for you. Despite the crust that formed around your eye last night, indicating a good rest, you feel somewhat sluggish as you wait for Jake to finish ordering his coffee. 

“Jay woke up late again,” he snickers as he pockets his phone. “He probably won’t be at the office until eight.” 

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “We all need beauty sleep after yesterday.” 

“Ahn can kiss my ass. I felt like I was knee deep in paperwork. My eyes were gonna fall out of their sockets.” 

“You and me both,” you sigh, retrieving your beverage and pastry. The warmth lifts your mood. “I’ve seen my fair share of paperwork and dirty moves, but they never cease to surprise me.” 

“The audacity of him to give you one box to leave with, too,” Jake says with venom in his tone. “I’ll punch him for you.”

“How about you hold him down while I do the punching?”

“I like your style.” 

The office itself is still relatively quiet, save for the few first year associates milling around the bullpen and the break room. The coffee and espresso machine have seen better days, and you make a mental note to tell Heeseung to invest in new ones. 

Jake raises his hand in a mock salute as you walk towards your office. The pretty skyline will always remain a marvel to you. To live a life of privilege and to neglect the beauty around you would be a disservice to all that has raised you and all what will be awarded to you. The streets below you begin to fill with people commuting to work. It feels much like New York, where the city never sleeps and the people never lose their dreams. 

Working with Jay in his office felt normal. Sitting in front of him and getting to know his life as he built it wasn’t as hurtful as you once thought it would be. With each quip, it felt as if the two of you fell into old habits like there was never a time where the two of you spent any time apart. 

You could tell Jay had more to say than he led on. But hearing a full confession or an apology in the office didn’t feel right. It’s why you shut him down. Hearing the sincerity in his voice when he came to apologize, but having a short conversation between looking through piles upon piles of documents, felt too colloquial. You’re owed the decency of no distractions, at least, even if you’ve done the work to grow and heal. 

There was once a time you swore you’d never give Jay a second chance and that actions, at face value, mean more than any rectification. Back when you were blindsided by hurt and emotion, the realization that the person you cared about the most leaving you felt like a punch to the gut. If Jay had the audacity to leave you as you were, what good were you to anyone else? 

The answer isn’t simple. It wasn’t until you realized running away from Korea and relocation to New York didn’t make you as happy as you thought it did. 

You were lying to yourself when you’d smile and tell your friends that it was the best decision you ever made. You had fooled yourself into believing it as you said it, sipping on whatever alcoholic beverage was at hand at the time. But coming home to an empty loft made those unsavory thoughts ruminate in your mind until you fell asleep. Even so, you dreamt about what your life would be like if Jay had chosen to stay. 

Years of running resulted in a sudden crash. It was like your life wasn’t as perfect as you made it out to be. You loved the part of you that made a life in New York and you loved the people and the work that was established, but a larger part of you missed your life in Seoul. You missed your friends, your old haunts, and the places you swore you’d never go but found yourself visiting when you came back home. You missed your family too, or whatever was left of it. In the years you spent overseas, you learned to come to terms with the notion that who you are is not a product of people who do not know you. Rather, who you are is an accumulation of your experiences and passions, and nothing else. 

That realization made it easier to forgive Jay. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d ever see him again and the thought of what you would say if you came face-to-face with him, or what apologies you would’ve wanted to hear from him, didn’t matter. It became something you tossed at the bottom of your priority list because relying on the actions of other people became a dangerous habit of yours. You’d look at yourself in the mirror and slowly begin to like what you saw looking back at you.  

To let go of the past feels like freedom. You could dwell on everyone who wronged you and remain spiteful at all of the times you were left to feel like an embarrassment and a burden, but none of that could have ever helped you arrive in the present day as tranquil as you are. Every happenstance, good and bad, happened for a reason, and it isn’t up to you to figure out why. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when Jungwon knocks on your door. 

“Y/N?” he asks timidly. 

“What’s up?” 

“Do you have the time to go over these case files with me?” Jungwon asks. “I know you have a lunch meeting you need to prepare for, but none of the other attorneys are in the office right now and Heeseung needs these as soon as possible.” 

You smile at him. “I’ll make time.” 

The two of you sit in relative silence for the next twenty minutes, hearing the sounds of paper turning and pens scribbling in the margins. The city’s waking up and people are filing into the office one by one as the two of you remain in the vacated copy room just around the main office. Jungwon suggested relocating to the small corner for concentration purposes and you start to understand why he’s everybody’s favorite paralegal. 

“This stuff is insane,” Jungwon comments. You look up at him to see a scowl etched on his face. “How can people willingly take advantage of people trying to pursue their dreams?” 

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “It kills me to see greedy corporations treat people like they don’t matter.” 

“It’s unfair,” Jungwon says. “If I had my way, I’d stick it to these music executives. Screw Ahn for burying us in paperwork.”

“Making the musician pay back a certain fee feels almost impossible, doesn’t it?” you ask Jungwon rhetorically. “It almost feels like the label is stealing talent and profiting off of it wherever and whenever they can.” 

“These poor people are trying to make a living doing what they love. None of this is fair. It’s stupid for labels to require a certain number of albums to be made under contract.” 

“Even more stupid when labels cut them loose because they can’t pay back the recoupment quickly.” 

“If I had time in the courtroom with Attorney Ahn, I think I’d rip him a new one.” 

You laugh. “How long have you been a paralegal, Jungwon?”

“A couple of years,” he tells you. “I’m thinking about other career options in the meantime, but I love my job and I love helping the associates when they ask me.”

“Why would you think of different career paths if this is what you love to do?”

He sighs. “I’m not good at testing. I mean, I took the bar and failed. It feels like it’s too late for me, you know?”

“Well, you could always take it again.”

He shakes his head. “It’s no use. I’m not good at practice tests but I could tell you about any case. I’ve been at this job long enough to discuss concepts and have them make sense, but it’s testing that gets me. I just get so anxious, you know? I second guess myself all the time and I hate that I do that.” 

“Testing used to be my greatest enemy.”

“What changed?” 

“Jay, honestly. He was always the better student when it came to that kind of stuff. I had really bad testing anxiety but he managed to help me study enough to the point where I knew I would ace them.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize you guys used to be so close.” 

“I’d say he was my closest friend in law school. It’s nice to see him again after all these years.” 

Jungwon doesn’t press further, instead returning his attention to the documents below him.

“Ending the recoupment expectation means the artist can keep the profit from the moment it’s been released, right?” 

“They’ll have to split their earnings with people who worked on the project based on copyright laws, but yes, essentially.” 

Jungwon sits with his thoughts and stares at the documents before him. His hands sift through the folders as his eyes dart from page to page. 

“This is what I love about my job,” he begins. “I love helping people because it’s what I feel like I was meant to do. I love solving problems and I love fixing them.” 

“You owe it to yourself to try, you know,” you encourage. “Going to law school isn’t easy, but not many people can say they have your experience. You’ve got a few years of working with associates and partners under your belt. There’s no reason to be afraid of taking the LSAT.”

“I guess I’m just nervous that I won’t be good enough,” Jungwon confesses. “Every day, I’m surrounded by the smartest people I know who all graduated from the best law school in Korea. How could I ever compete with that?”

His doubt speaks to your younger self, the one who cowered in fear when your parents neglected to praise you for a job well done or turned a blind eye when you asked for advice. Jungwon’s worries speak to the part of you that wished for external validation when it came to your capabilities and strengths, because doing it yourself could only go so far. 

His words remind you of moments when you felt small, like the world was too big and you’d never have enough time to discover all the wonders it could bring. You were meek back then, thriving off of whatever little validation they gave you just to have them knock it down. You don’t know why you spent so many years yearning for their approval, but never getting it felt too familiar. 

Your acceptance at the most prestigious law school in Korea was met with apprehension. You recall the sinking feeling in your stomach the moment the idea about your worth was proposed; having your parents question your capabilities or how you’d fit in with your peers had you second guessing your career path, leaving you wondering if following your passion was worth the struggle and pain of convincing them to let you pursue it. 

They agreed to let you go under the condition that they pay for the first year before you’d need to pay for the remaining two. It felt unfair and it still feels unfair. But what’s done is done and you managed to gain the courage to chase after that dream of yours that always seemed just too far out of reach, and it has paid off.

Now, you look at Jungwon as if he were a ghost of your former self. 

“You say you’re worried about committing to a career path, but it seems like you’ve got your heart set on becoming a lawyer,” you tell him. “Don’t you think you should explore that?” 

Jungwon smiles at you.

“I think I will.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Jay finds you in the break room laughing with Jungwon when he’s able to pull himself away from meetings. You look gorgeous when you laugh as freely as you are, like you aren’t shy about showing people what you look like when you smile. It warms his heart to hear that fluttering laugh of yours. 

“You’re serious about helping me study for the LSAT?” he hears Jungwon ask you. 

“Dead serious. It’ll take some time but the test comes around a few times a year. Take it easy, okay? There’s no need to rush.” 

The younger boy sees Jay approach and nods his head. “I should get going. See you later, Y/N!” 

“Jungwon’s taking the LSAT?” Jay asks when the former disappears. 

“I’m trying to convince him. He told me earlier about why he’s hesitant to go to law school but I think Jungwon can do it if he really tries.” 

“I think so too,” Jay agrees. “He’s the only person in this office who knows what’s going on. Might as well promote him to first year associate. We’ll definitely miss him around the office, though.” 

“All the more reason to hire him when he graduates.” 

Jay smiles. This kind of generosity is something he always thought of you. 

“Anyway, I have a meeting in thirty minutes and I’m considering canceling if not for the free lunch.”

“Hot young finance wannabe taking you out to an expensive steakhouse?” he jokes. 

“Try a sixty-year old former housewife afraid that her assets are in shambles when they haven’t been touched in years,” you laugh. “The restaurant is a dim sum place by my apartment and I will never say no to dim sum.” 

“Bummer,” Jay says, biting back a smile. “I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee before the afternoon rush.” 

“Can we rain check?” you ask eagerly. “I’d love to get coffee with you again.” 

“I would love that. Are you going to be back in the office this afternoon, though? I’ll keep my door open for you.” 

“I’ll be back around three,” you tell him with a shy smile. “I’ll be sure to knock.” 

Jay shakes his head. “You can walk in. I’ll make an exception for you.” 

The atmosphere around the office has changed when you come back and sit with him to work. It’s like the distance and wrongdoings have been erased when it’s just the two of you sitting in front of one another, almost as if time has transported the both of you back to law school. 

You find that you’re able to get work done much faster without the impending doom of awkwardness lingering around the two of you. Jay’s tendency to skirt around you created a strange atmosphere during the first few weeks of you working in his domain, but sitting with him now makes you feel like things are going to be okay. 

For Jay, it feels the same. His guilt has subsided, not because he feels absolved, but because he feels like he’s working towards a better version of himself with you back in his life. Jay has always sworn to rectify his mistakes if he was given the chance to and the universe granting him one last chance by allowing you back in his life feels like a second chance. He doesn't want to mess it up and make you feel the way you did once upon a time. 

It isn’t until the sun goes down and you yawn that he registers just how late the two of you have been working. Conversations flow easily and it feels like time has moved too fast. 

“Let’s get noodles before going home? For old time’s sake,” Jay asks you. 

“It’s like you read my mind.” 

He knows of a place not too far from away, a small hole-in-the-wall joint that boasts an array of soups that immediately smell like comfort in a bowl. The waitress leaves the two of you alone after putting your meal in front of you, and you waste no time before digging in.

“Woah, slow down before you choke on the soup,” Jay teases. 

“Cut me some slack,” you whine. “This is definitely not the first time you’ve watched me inhale my food.”

Jay laughs. “I remember when you couldn’t stop eating the shumai from across my apartment. You must’ve thrown up twice? I think?” 

“That night single handedly made me watch how much I ate in one sitting.” You recoil at the memory. “But I still love shumai. Just not as much.” 

“Or that time you went through a phase where you couldn’t stop drinking fruit-flavored punch and got so nauseous that you almost skipped the last exam before winter break.”

“I made it, though! I think I got a ninety-one on that test? But who cares. Law school was forever ago.” 

Jay’s eyes soften. 

“I really am sorry,” he begins. “I’ve been thinking about when the best time to talk to you is, but everyday there’s something new between the Hybe case and other things that need our attention. So, I’m sorry if right now it seems like it’s coming out of the blue.

“It’s selfish of me to say it when you’re eating, I know. I just want you to know how sorry I am for being a coward and for leaving you standing.” Jay’s eyes falter and he looks back at his bowl of soup before forcing himself to look you in the eye. “I couldn’t tell you what my younger self was thinking back then. Every single day I think about how awful and selfish I was to put my emotions above yours.” 

“Jay–”

“I don’t know if this counts for much, I’d like to think I’ve grown since then. I’ve learned to be empathetic and that I can’t run away from things just because it was too much or because I was scared about how I felt about you.” He swallows harshly. “I really, really liked you back then.” 

You bite your lip. “I really liked you too.” 

“Working with you for the past few months has made me realize how much of a fucking idiot I was to walk away like that. I should’ve told Iseul to shove it down her throat and walk out with you instead of leaving you alone. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry.”

In your years imagining what this moment would look like, it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t in a small noodle stop sitting in an expensive dress. It wasn’t at the end of a long workday where your thoughts are all over the place. It certainly wasn’t with Jay sounding as honest and as sincere as he is now. 

You prepared to leave in astonishment or throw a drink at him for his audacity. You envisioned yourself laughing in his face and walking away with your hair brushed behind your shoulders, only to peek over and see him fall to his knees in despair. You imagined Jay looking disheveled and helpless, catching his insincerity with a smug grin before telling him to leave you alone forever. 

But the man in front of you looks like he’s waited a long time to apologize. He drops his eye contact with you in favor of moving his chopsticks around the bowl, moving the noodles as a way to fill the awkward silence from your lack of response. In truth, your heart is beating three times as fast as it normally does. It doesn’t help that your feelings for Jay never went away. It certainly doesn’t help that his apology feels like one crafted by a mature adult as opposed to throwaway words someone strings together to absolve themselves of guilt. 

Jay’s guilty and he knows it. He’s willing to live with the consequences, but your silence is killing him. 

Instead of speaking, you push your hand to reach for his and pry his fingers off of his chopsticks. Jay’s eyes snap to your hands touching his, afraid that if he moves, you’ll be gone quicker than he can register. 

“You were never one for words,” you begin to say. Jay’s heart sinks to the bottom of his chest. “I remember you having the hardest time carrying a conversation because you were thinking too hard about what to say. I always thought I was the shy one, but getting to know you was a little hard when you said so little. 

“I don’t know what changed, honestly. It was like you had a million and one different things you wanted to talk about. I learned that you trusted few people and I knew I was one of them the second you talked my ear off about how you probably would have pursued a career in music instead of law.” 

Jay’s mouth quirks. “I remember that.” 

“What I’m trying to say is, I know you’re being honest with me now. The fact that you said all of that in a noodle shop tells me more than you know.” 

He chuckles. “It’s a little poetic, isn’t it?” 

“Considering we spent maybe half of our time together eating ramen, I’d say so.” 

He squeezes your hand. “The last thing I want you is for you to feel like I’m forcing you to say something you don’t want to, or even forgive me. I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do something you aren’t ready to do.”

“One thing you should know about me is that I always do as I please.” You squeeze his hand back. “You’ll know how I feel, Jay. Right now, I feel very strongly about you.” 

The two of you look at each other before the doorbell chimes. You two pull your hands apart as if you’re two teenagers caught holding hands. Jay laughs once he sees your mouth forming that same bashful smile he fell for all those years ago before clearing his throat and enjoying the rest of his dinner. 

As for you, the warmth of the broth is almost as warm as your cheeks.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Nothing is going according to plan. 

The Hybe case has taken all of your effort and resources, as well as your mental sanity. As the date for the next settlement hearing, and likely the final one, draws nearer, you feel the walls closing within you with no way to stop it. 

It’s taken a toll on you. You’re sure everyone in the office can see it. Sunoo creeps quietly into your office with a polite bow every time he delivers what you ask for, ceasing to make small conversation when he can see how little sleep you’ve gotten. Riki and Jungwon are the same, waving to you from outside of your office because you’ve spent a majority of your time there. 

Jay’s noticed it as well. He remembers the moments when you’d hole yourself in your apartment due to exam stress and when things with your family affected you. Back then he would try everything in his power to get you to come out of the cave you created, whether it be staying in his car until you were ready to see him or dropping off meals for you. 

It’s not so different now, except this is occurring in the workplace. He sees the dark circles under your eyes and the way your shoulders slump when you’re working at your desk. Jay sees the way you shake your head to fight to stay awake and how unfocused you’ve become during meetings. 

Everyone in the office is losing their hope about winning this case. Hybe has drained all of the resources every attorney has put into fighting it. Heeseung feels the pressure from the clients, which in turn has everyone else worrying about if this was a case they were going to lose. The hope everybody exhibited from the beginning of the case until now has dimmed. Nobody knows what went wrong or why team morale has changed for the worse.  

It’s late on a Friday night when Jay catches you still in your office. Your coat is still hanging behind your chair and he can see the tissues around your garbage can. His heart lurches when he puts two and two together, and races all over the office until he finds you walking out of the bathroom. 

You look at him with bloodshot eyes and tears at the brim. Jay’s tie feels tight against his collar and his suit jacket suddenly feels too warm on his body. Your nimble fingers tremble beside you as you catch your breath, halfway between embarrassed for being caught crying and fighting the urge to jump into Jay’s arms. He hates seeing you cry and he hates knowing that there’s nothing he can do to make you feel better.  

Jay makes the decision for you. He wastes no time and tugs you closer to his chest.

He doesn’t pay any mind to your tears soaking his dress shirt, opting to put one hand behind your head. He strokes your hair and wraps his other arm around you to hold you securely within him, using what little momentum he has to rock your bodies from side to side. It feels right to have you in his arms like this. Jay has fantasized about the day you’d let him touch you like this, so intimately woven together as if the two of you were always meant to be together. 

Your face feels hot against his chest. Jay feels you rest your cheek on his shoulder and he fights the urge to press a kiss to your head. The office is eerily quiet, with everyone else having left hours earlier. Jay was stuck in a late night meeting before heading back to the office to pick up his belongings for the night. He’s glad he came back. 

“Sorry,” you croak, voice sore from holding your tears at bay. Jay lifts his hand to wipe the tears off of your cheek with this thumb. 

“Don’t be,” he tells you. “God knows how many times I’ve cried in this bathroom.” 

You smile. “You’ve cried in the women’s restroom?” 

Jay pinches your arm. “You know what I mean.” 

The two of you stay like that for another minute and bask in the silence. Half of the lights have turned off due to lack of movement and it feels liminal to be holding one another without the judgment or prying eyes of others. Jay coaxes you to your office and gently holds your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he pulls you down on the couch. You don’t fight him, letting him pull your body down next to his until your feet are tucked underneath you with your head resting on his shoulder. 

Jay doesn’t want to push his luck. He’s sure you can feel his heart beating from where you sit. But your head is within reach and experimentally places his cheek on top of you. When you won’t move away, he closes his eyes for a brief moment and thanks whoever is watching him for the opportunity to be this close to you again. 

“Life is so hard,” you say, grabbing his hand and toying with the rings on his fingers. “I feel like nothing I’m doing is amounting to anything.”

“That’s not true,” Jay says to you. He fights the urge to smile when he sees you pick a ring off of his finger and place it on your own hand. “You’ve done a lot of good, you know that? You wouldn’t be here today if you didn’t.”

You return the ring back to Jay’s hand. “I know. This case is keeping me up at night. I get nightmares about Ahn’s stupid, smug grin after telling us we wasted our time trying to fight Hybe.” 

“You and I both. Sometimes, our efforts feel futile when all we do is stare at paperwork and hold empty promises to our clients.” 

You nod in agreement. “I just want to be at a place where I don’t feel like I’m fucking things up all the time. I spent so long trying to run away from everything but I got tired of doing that before I moved back to Korea. I want to rest.” 

The two of you remain silent for a few peaceful moments. It doesn’t feel awkward and neither of you feel pressed to say anything. The comfort that you feel with Jay is something he’s been praying for. He’d reckon that the person he was when you first joined the office would almost doubt the fact that you're comfortable resting in his arms. To him, this is a sign that you’re starting to trust him again.

“Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?” He tries not to smile when you shake your head. 

“Can you stay here with me?” 

Eventually, he convinces you to go home after a tiring day. Jay calls a taxi for you and waits with you until it arrives. The smile you give him makes him feel like there’s nothing he can’t achieve, and it isn’t until you kiss his cheek that Jay feels as though he might melt into a puddle. 

“Get home safe, okay?” you ask of him. 

“Anything for you.” 

He closes the door behind you and watches the taxi drive away until it’s out of sight. Jay pulls his phone out and begins to hover this thumb over a certain phone number he hasn’t called in a while, arguing  back and forth with himself until he hastily presses the ‘call’ button and puts the phone to his ear. 

One, two. Click.

“Hello?” comes the voice from the other line. 

“Hey,” Jay says. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry to call you out of the blue. I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but I’m calling about Y/N.”

“Is she okay?” 

“Relatively speaking.” Jay takes a deep breath before continuing. “We’re working on this case together. I’m sure she’s told you about it and I think it’s taking a toll on her. You know how she gets. She closes herself off because she doesn't want other people to worry about her or feel like a burden.”

“Sounds like classic Y/N if you ask me.”

Jay laughs. “I found her crying in the office tonight and we talked a little. I just sent her home in a cab. I know I don’t have the right to ask anything of you, but this is Y/N. Can you give her a call and make sure she’s alright?” 

The voice on the other end is silent for a brief moment. Jay holds his breath and he swears he can feel his lungs constrict within him. If anything, he’s prepared to have his heart broken in two and for everything he knows to fall apart around him. 

It doesn’t. 

“I’m in Seoul, actually. Don’t tell anyone, though. I’ll visit Y/N.”

“Thank you,” Jay breathes. 

“Of course. We both know she would have kept to herself until it’s too late.” 

“That we do.” Jay swallows harshly.  “I also just wanted to say…I’m sorry. For everything. I wasn’t the greatest friend, haven’t been the greatest friend, but I want to do everything I can to make things right. I’ve already apologized to Y/N but apologizing to you feels right.”

He hears a small chuckle from the other side. “You’re a good person, Jay, even if you make bad decisions every once in a while. The fact that you’re calling me after everything you’ve done tells me how much you’ve changed.” 

“I…thank you. I don’t know what I’m looking for. But apologizing feels right.” 

“It’s a good start. Thanks for calling, man.” 

“Take care.” 

The line ends and Jay walks back into the office with a happy heart.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

A knock comes at your apartment door and your heart starts to spike. It’s nine in the evening and you’re sitting on your couch in pajamas with an empty bag of chips on the coffee table. Your ears perk up at the sound and you clutch your phone in your hands until you see a notification come though. 

Dearest Brother (Korean cell): Open up!

You lift the blanket off of you with record speed with Miso tailing behind you and open the front door without a second thought. 

“Namjoon,” you breathe. 

“In the flesh,” he says with that same boyish smile he gives you when he sees you after coming home from overseas. “Are you gonna let me in or are you gonna let me freeze to death?” 

“With that attitude, you can starve too,” you say, angling your body away from the door for him to walk in. Namjoon takes his shoes off and slips his feet into the slippers you always keep for him. Miso nips at his ankles until he bends down to pick her up, cradling your beloved in his arms. “What the hell are you doing in Seoul?” 

“The boys and I got back earlier this morning,” Namjoon tells you. “Promotions are over and we get two weeks to rest before we start preparing for the next tour.” 

“God, I can’t believe you guys are going on tour again,” you say, patting the spot next to you on the couch for Namjoon to sit on. “It feels like you guys just started working on the album.” 

“Seokjin said the same thing,” says Namjoon, who puts his feet on the coffee table before you chide him with a playful slap to the bicep. “The guys and I decided we weren’t gonna see each other until tour rehearsals. God knows we’ve spent too much time together in the past few months.” 

“How are they?” you ask him. “I’ve only seen updates on those fan accounts that update your every move, which is somewhat creepy but every wholesome at the same time.” 

Namjoon laughs. “The guys are fine. Taehyung and Hobi spent most of the promotions shopping and came home with two duffel bags each. Yoongi’s probably gonna sleep for the next two weeks. Jungkook got ripped, and I mean ripped.”

“I saw that, Jesus. He sent me a progress photo and all I could think about was how small he used to be before you guys debuted.”

“Jimin’s just…Jimin. He says he misses you and that the two of you should get together before it gets busy.”

“I would love that.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “I missed you guys a lot. More than I care to admit, probably.” 

“See, I told you all our sibling rivalry would disappear when we got older.”

“Yah. Whatever you say. We’re still enemies at heart.” Miso purrs against Namjoon’s lap. “I think she likes you more than me.”

Namjoon smiles down at Miso. “Jay called me earlier tonight. He says you haven’t been feeling very well.”

“Jay is a tattletale.” 

“Did he lie?” 

You sigh. “No, he didn’t.” 

“What’s on your mind?” 

“So many things that I don’t even know where to begin. There’s the Hybe case, which has made me want to blow my brains out.” 

Namjoon nods. “Ah, the Hybe case. It’s funny what a small label could do in ten years.” 

“Seems as though your underground rapper dreams came true. Now you’re touring the world and forgetting to bring me back expensive gifts from abroad.” Namjoon chooses not to comment. “You know attorney Ahn, right? Well, he sent us dozens upon dozens of legal files for us to sort through before our next hearing. We’ve gone through eighty percent of them but it feels like we’re going nowhere. It feels useless”

“You’re doing more good than you know,” he tells you. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re giving a lot of hope to a lot of young musicians.” 

You sigh. “I hope so. And then there’s the whole thing with Jay…I can’t remember what I last told you. I know I said that my feelings towards him have changed and that I’ve forgiven him, but spending as much time as I have has made me rethink a lot of things.” 

“Like what?”

“Like whether or not it’s stupid of me to give him a second chance or if I should feel ashamed for liking him in the first place.” Namjoon watches you frown. “All those years and my feelings for him never went away.” 

“Well, we can’t control how we feel.” 

“He hurt me, Joon.” 

“I know,” says Namjoon, “but that was years ago. In the months you’ve worked with him, has Jay given you any reason to doubt his sincerity?” 

You think about it. “No, he hasn’t.” 

“Has he apologized for what he did and is he being respectful of you?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitating. 

“There’s your answer. You can’t let the past dictate people. I’m sure there are parts of you that have outgrown your younger self.” 

“You know, I can hear the voices of people I met back in New York telling me not to give Jay the time of day and that I should block his number when we finish working this case.”

“Your New York friends knew the person that was angry at him, though. You stopped talking about Jay two years before you moved.” 

“I know. I don’t know what’s stopping me from going for it.” 

“Have you ever considered that you’re afraid things will turn out the same way it did all those years ago?”

You roll your eyes. “All the time, Joon.”

“Okay, fair point. Have you considered that you’re the one in control of how you react to things?” You purse your lips and Namjoon takes it as a sign to keep talking. “You can think of a million different ways this plays out. Maybe you guys break up after a week. Maybe you get old and live together until you’re ninety. But all of those scenarios are just what-ifs. You’ll never know until you make a decision and stick with it, otherwise your fears hold you back from reaching your true potential.” 

“But what if it fails? I’m scared of becoming the person I was back then.” 

“Well I, for one, know you’re much stronger than that. Working in corporate law makes you tougher, not weaker. But to speak on your concern, you’re the only person who can control how you react to things. If the timing isn’t right and you feel it coming, then you let go.” 

His words sit with you as the soft sounds of the television plays in the back of your mind. For a few months, you’d been worried that you jumped the gun and forgiven Jay in ways the you of the past would never understand. The deep seeded fears of being rejected and left behind creep into the forefront of your mind every so often, leaving you a paralyzed mess. 

But Namjoon’s right. You can only control your reaction to what cards you’re dealt with. Any wrongdoing by the hands of others isn’t your fault nor are they your responsibilities. 

“As for the Hybe case,” Namjoon says as he brings you out of your thoughts, “I think I have a solution.”

“Oh yeah?” 

He nods once. “The guys and I have been talking about this for a while. We’ve known about other musicians suing Hybe longer than you’ve known about this case and we didn’t know how we could help. On one hand, Hybe gave us everything we have now, you know? They gave us the opportunity to become musicians. I don’t know what got lost in translation, but it seems that fewer and fewer artists are able to experience what we did.”

“Where are you going with this?”  

“We’re going to make a statement. With your approval, of course.” Namjoon tells you. “I was going to call Heeseung on Monday to set up a meeting with you and surprise you at the office, but tonight seemed like a better time to drop by.” 

“Wait.” You use the remote to pause the TV. “You guys are going to speak at the hearing?” 

“All seven of us,” he confirms. “It’s not fair that everyone else has to work twice as hard because of Hybe’s standards. We’ve been given this platform and it’s only fair that we use it to help other people.” 

“God, I could cry right now.” Namjoon chuckles at the tears that have formed at the corner of your eyes and picks up a tissue before handing it to you. “You don’t know what this means to me, Joon.” 

“I always told you I’d be here for you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I thought that meant buying me gifts paying for my takeout,” you joke, swatting his arm, “not saving the biggest case of my career.” 

“I’m really proud of you, Y/N. Not a lot of people are as resilient as you.” He smiles down at you. “Oh, and you should also know about Jay.”

“What about him?” 

“He apologized to me too,” Namjoon says. “I know what people sound like when they want something from me or say things because they know it’s what I want to hear. But Jay didn’t sound like that. He didn’t have to say anything since he was calling about you, but that in itself lets me know how sorry he is.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to know. Besides, it’s a Friday night and you have the entire weekend before you see him. Let’s watch cartoons like old times, yeah?” 

“Yeah, but you better not sleep in the middle of the second episode.” 

Namjoon laughs. “You wound me.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

For the first time in a while, you don’t feel imminent doom as Monday approaches. 

The sky is as sunny as you feel when you walk into the office. Sunoo and Jungwon seem rather pleased that you’re spending more time outside of your office and Heeseung makes several comments about how your mood has shifted from how it was last week. 

“You’re telling me Namjoon stopped by and you didn’t tell me?” Heeseung chides. “I feel like chopped liver.” 

“That’s because you are,” you tease. “The guys are resting for the next two weeks before tour preparations. Namjoon, Jimin, and I are going to get dinner one of these days if you’d like to join.”

“I’m taking you up on this invite, thank you very much. Did you know Joon was gonna be back in town?” 

“I didn’t, actually.” A knock comes from behind you and the man of the hour appears. “Jay called him.” 

“Am I in trouble?” Jay asks. You smile and shake your head. 

“Just the opposite. Thanks for calling my brother. It meant a lot to me.”

“You looked like you needed him and I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he tells you sincerely. 

“It’s great that you’re both here, actually.” You close the door behind your office. “Namjoon and I talked about a lot of things, one of them being the case. He told me how he and the guys have felt helpless in the past few months to see their labelmates suffer through corporate greed. He told me that they’re willing to testify and speak on our behalf against Hybe.” 

“What?” 

You nod. “I think they’re starting to understand how unfair the new recording contracts are and want to make a difference. I know Judge Han’s granddaughters are fans of Bangtan, so I think their presence could sway the decision.”

“You fight dirty,” Heeseung says, bumping his hip with yours. “I love it. Are they ready to go up against Ahn?” 

You shake your head. “They’re gonna schedule a meeting with us sometime in the next week to prepare. It’s going to be a tight fit with their tour preparations and our hearing, but if all goes according to plan, Ahn should be willing to move the hearing date earlier.”

“This is fucking incredible,” Jay swears. “We owe you one.” 

“You owe me nothing,” you tell him. “I love working with you two, honestly. Namjoon however…you might owe him a few.” 

“I’ll pay for dinner under the company card and say it was a client business,” Heeseung says. “It’s a done deal. I’m gonna let the others know, if that’s okay?” 

Heeseung leaves when you give in the greenlight, leaving you and Jay standing alone in your office. 

“I meant what I said earlier,” Jay says. “I owe you one.” 

“Seriously, Jay. You owe me nothing. It comes with the job.” He laughs and shakes his head. 

“I’m bad at this.” 

Jay bites his lip and reaches his hand out for yours, holding a loose grip in case you want to pull back. When you don’t, he takes the opportunity to push his fingers through yours. 

“I’d love to take you out on a date,” he says. “As a thank you. But more so because I really like you and want to take you out like you deserve.” 

You squeeze his hand. “If I said I wanted to stay indoors because this week will likely kick my ass, what would you do?”

Jay pretends to think. “In that case, I think I’ll cook us dinner while you watch with a glass of wine. If I recall correctly, that’s how most of our Friday nights looked like.” 

You bite your lip. “You make a mean steak.” 

“Whatever you want is what you'll get. Although, I have a sneaking suspicion that this was your way of asking me to cook for you.” 

You look at him in faux surprise. “Whatever do you mean, Park Jongseong?” Jay chuckles and takes a step closer towards you.

“Silly girl. I'll cook for us once this case is over, yeah? How does that sound?” 

“Sounds like you’re after my own heart.” 

Jay learns until you feel his lips land on your cheek.

“That I am.” 

He leaves your office without another word and you fight the heat creeping up your neck as you bite your lip. When you turn around, you’re met with Jake and Jungwon’s prying eyes from the bullpen, and watch as they high-five each other whilst giving you an array of thumbs ups and silent applause. 

You struggle to get back to work.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

In an unsurprising turn of events, Ahn folds when Namjoon takes the stands. When all is said and done, you find yourself at an all too familiar position with Jay in the kitchen and you sitting behind the counter with a glass of wine in your hands. 

He’s grown up, for one. Jay’s back muscles are more defined in his t-shirt as opposed to the dress shirts he wears everyday, giving you something else to look at as he cooks dinner for the both of you. The week wasn’t as bad as you anticipated it to be, but you’re sitting in his penthouse and patting yourself on the back for making the suggestion to stay indoors. 

It’s oddly comforting to feel as relaxed as you are in his space, sans wine. The buzz hit you after he gave you a tour of his place and the Jay of the present is definitely not the Jay you used to know. His tastes are elevated and his collection of instruments has nearly tripled. The artwork adorning his walls speaks for his maturity, as does the furniture in his living room. It reminds you just how much the two of you have grown up since law school and how eager you are to explore sides of him you have yet to discover. 

The steak is almost done cooking and Jay has spoon-fed you mashed potatoes until they’re to your liking, and you laugh when he celebrates your approval. The seasoned asparagus sits underneath warming lights while the rest of the meal is done cooking, and it wouldn’t feel right to have dinner with Jay without commenting about how much of a professional he looks from where you’re sitting. 

You know it’s the wine in your system intensifying your emotions, but you can’t help but stare at Jay’s muscles as he moves throughout the kitchen. He works effortlessly and seamlessly, never neglecting any part of the meal he’s prepared for you. The level of care and precision he’s exemplifying through his cooking, while simultaneously entertaining you, has rendered you a blushing, giggling mess. You’re sure Jay can tell that you’re already buzzed after two glasses, but he promised to drive you home so you don’t have anything to worry about. 

Jay looks criminally good in dark clothes. His laid back attire makes him look more attractive to you compared to the suit and tie he wears everyday. Something about seeing Jay like he used to be all those years ago stirs something within you. It makes you cross your legs in your seat and perch forward with your elbows on the counter below you as he puts the finishing touches to the meal. 

You requested nothing fancy for tonight upon knowing Jay would drop everything for you to secure a date at the most expensive restaurant and pay the bill to back it up. That could be saved for another today. Tonight is less about wanting Jay to prove himself than wanting to feel comfortable around him, as this would be your first time hanging out with him in his space since law school. 

When he’s finished cooking, Jay pulls the smaller dining table towards the tall window overlooking the city below and seats you in your chair opposite his. He tops you off with another glass of wine when you nod, pouring himself a glass as well. 

Conversation flows like the two of you are out on a first date. You are, in a sense, but you’re also two long lost best friends who happen to have deep feelings for each other, finding yourselves once again. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that’s settled in your system with the headstart you had compared to Jay, or maybe it’s the soft look of adoration in Jay’s eyes when you laugh at his jokes, but tonight you feel as though you’re the only woman in his life who matters to him. 

“I really missed you,” you tell him. Jay looks back at you from the kitchen as he clears the finished dinner plates. Too full to entertain dessert, he leaves it in the fridge until you’re ready to eat again. “I missed this too, you know? Coming over and doing nothing but talking to you, I mean.” 

“I’m here if you’ll have me,” Jay says. You’ve followed him to the kitchen, albeit wobbling because of the wine. Jay reaches out and steadies you with his arms until you’re pushing yourself to hug his body with your arms around his middle. 

“You’re so warm.” You turn your head to peck at his chest before letting your cheek rest against him. Jay closes his eyes and wraps his arms around your body too, his own lips finding the crown of your head. 

“You’re even warmer, but I’ll bet it’s because you had half a bottle of wine.” 

You playfully smack his arm. “Hey. You said you’d drive me home so I took that as a sign to get tipsy.” 

Jay laughs. “I thought you might say something like that. Good thing I have a higher tolerance, isn’t it?” 

You nod against him. “It’s the best.” 

“Do you want to go home now?” Jay asks carefully when the two of you have stood in silence for a good minute or two. When you shake your head, he bites back a smile. “Do you want to watch a movie? You can pick something off of Netflix and we can watch it until you’re ready to go home.”

“Sounds like a perfect idea,” you say, sighing out of content. 

Jay lets you change into one of his oversized shirts that covers you just enough and you walk out of the bathroom looking like sin. It takes everything in him not to comment because he doesn’t want to scare you away. Jay comes to the realization that you likely aren’t wearing shirts underneath because of how the fabric rode up your thigh as you sat on the couch beside him. He desperately tries not to pay any mind to it for the sake of your comfortability. 

Truthfully, Jay wants to wrap you up in his arms and put the blanket he got from his closet over the both of you. But he’s letting you take the lead when it comes to physical contact, unsure of just how comfortable you are with him yet. He’s only just gotten you back in his life. He doesn’t want to scare you away any time soon. 

The movie you picked is somewhat interesting, although Jay can’t say he’s too keen on paying attention. In the first ten minutes, you’ve shifted to rest your head on his shoulder and his arm is now resting behind you to accommodate your body. He feels you dip yourself lower as the movie progresses until you’re fully leaning on his chest, and Jay has a sneaking suspicion you’ve been slowly edging your way into this spot to not make him feel uncomfortable either. 

He puts his free hand on your hip and squeezes your body to let you know he’s right with you. Jay watches you smile and try to hide it. He thinks it makes you look even more attractive than you already are. 

Jay doesn’t know what happens next. Another thirty minutes pass by with easy conversation between the two of you. One thing leads to another and he feels you shifting in front of him, and his mind thinks you’re getting up to tell him you want to leave. 

But you don’t. You shift to face him and push your body up until your face is right in front of his. 

He can feel your breath on his lips. The scent of wine is long gone but your eyes look like they’re searching for something. Jay sees the way your throat constricts and he tries not to look down past where it isn’t appropriate. 

“Is it bad that I want to kiss you?” you ask him just above a whisper. 

Jay doesn’t say anything. He doesn't need to. Instead, he leans forward to push his lips against yours. 

His lips touch your plush ones as his hands encircle your waist to hold you steady, like he’s afraid you’ll topple over on the couch. Your own hands immediately touch his chest and scrape the fabric like an experimental touch. Your lips feel so soft against his and the sounds of your lips smacking against one another become more audible than the soft volume of the television in the background. 

Jay pulls back to see you suppress a grin, but he pinches your side to get you to smile for him. 

“You’re a really good kisser,” you say. “Had any practice?” 

“Just my pillow and a few posters,” he jokes. “I needed to practice so I could kiss you like you deserve.” 

He watches you blush. “Don’t say that. I feel like I’m sixteen again.” 

Jay pecks your lips and lingers for a few seconds. “Good. You make me feel like a teenager too.” 

“Oh yeah?” you ask, shifting yourself until you’re perched on his lap. Jay watches from beneath you as you steady your body by placing both hands on his shoulders and swinging your leg across his lap. 

“Yeah,” he whispers just before you lean down to kiss him again. 

Jay feels your hands wrap around his neck to hold him in front of you like you’re afraid he’s going to push you away again. To quell your fears, his own hands take hold of your wrists before he holds your fingers in his own and gives you a gentle squeeze. You seem to loosen up as you smile into the kiss, prompting Jay to do the same. 

Holding you feels familiar. It feels like coming home after a long, tiring day at the office to the person he loves the most. Having you in his arms after all this time has Jay rethinking his future and where you fit in it. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s ready to risk all that he has if that means seeing you as happy as you are in this very moment. 

You whine when Jay’s lips detach from yours but he smirks into your skin when he hears a soft moan coming from your own upon placing his just below your ear. He thinks how his younger self would’ve killed to hear the sounds you’re making right now and how lucky he is that this opportunity is being granted towards him. You sound like you’re enjoying yourself and that’s all Jay could ever ask of you. 

Your hand creeps below his shirt until your nails are raking his abdomen and you moan when you feel the ridges on his body. He sighs against your neck and you’re left speechless at how his physique has changed since the last time you saw Jay shirtless. The ache in your belly leaves you wanting more and you arch your body until it feels as though you’re completely giving into him before pressing your palms against his body. 

You two kiss with fervor as the minutes go by. Suddenly, Jay feels your body beginning to rock yourself on his lap as your lips find his own. He feels you tug on his shirt until you push it up his neck, breaking contact with him so that he can pull his shirt off completely. 

Your lips feel like heaven against his own skin as you begin to explore every inch of him. He feels you peppering kisses along his jawline and closes his eyes to bask in the feeling of your body so close to his. Jay lets his hands roam around your waist and when you don’t move to push his hands off as his fingers dip beneath the shirt you’re wearing, he smiles to himself and lets his fingertips push the fabric upwards just slightly. The feeling of his hands on your body has you rocking forward until your chest is in front of Jay’s face. You gasp when you realize how hard he’s become underneath you.

“I’m sorry,” Jay begins to apologize. “You’re very attractive.” 

You look down and tilt your head, experimentally pressing your lower half on his crotch. Jay emits a low moan, making your mouth quirk in excitement. 

“You’re very attractive,” you tell him, slowly rocking your body backwards and forwards.

You move to push Jay’s hands closer to your body and he gets the hint. He uses the momentum to push and pull you into him at the pace you set, watching as your mouth opens in euphoria. Jay finds it incredibly attractive the way your eyebrows pinch in arousal every time the tip of his clothed cock bumps your covered core, and if what you’re wearing is anything to go by, he was correct in assuming you weren’t wearing shorts underneath his shirt. 

Your pace quickens with every pass of his cock beneath you. He gets harder and harder, and you get wetter and wetter. Your own slick is rubbing against you from the fabric of your panties and it becomes almost too much to bear. Jay’s hands have found their way to your back as your own body pushes against his. He feels your tits pressing against his chest and the desperation in your hips as you gain momentum while he begins to take control from beneath you. 

Jay bucks into you until you let out a particularly loud gasp. His strength surprises you, as does the force with which he thrusts into you. His clothed cock hits you at the most delicious angle while you’re fighting to stand upright against his lap, fighting to grip the couch and his body at the same time. Jay doesn’t let you breathe, however, until you’re pushing him away so that you can access his lips once again.

The kiss is wet and messy. It’s hot in the room and you’re pushing Jay’s hands until they cup your breasts. He pinches your nipples and watches in pleasure as you throw your head back. 

“My baby likes that, doesn't she?” He pinches them again when you nod and it sends a shock straight down your spine and where you need him the most. 

Jay lifts the shirt just enough to uncover your chest and brings your right bud into his mouth. He licks it with his tongue in an effort to tease you until you’re squirming in his lap. He does the same with the other nipple until you’re pushing yourself against his cock that he grunts and nips at the bud before sucking it with his mouth. 

The pleasure is almost too good to form words. Your mouth stays at a permanent ‘O’ with every swipe of Jay’s tongue and he pushes your shirt until you take it off for him. He places his hands on your breasts and squeezes them in his palms as if getting to know your body better, almost like he wants to commit you to his memory. 

But you’re impatient. After the long years of daydreaming about Jay, you want nothing more than to have him inside of you.

“Please let me have it,” you whisper against his lips, pushing your body down onto his. “I need it so bad, Jay.” 

“We can’t,” he chokes. He doesn’t want to push his luck. “I-I need to drive you home.” 

Not even he believes this pathetic excuse.  

“I don’t care. Drive me home tomorrow.” 

Jay doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He flexes his fingers to distract himself before giving in, placing his grip on your waist and pushing you down onto him. He hears you gasp at the sudden movement and chides himself for being so turned on by you when mere moments ago he was thinking logically. 

“Just the tip,” you mutter against his mouth to convince him. “Please.” 

“Just the tip,” Jay agrees, pushing his trousers just enough to free his cock. To the best of your ability, you take your panties off without moving from his lap and throw it behind him. He finally feels your pussy glide over him and throws his head back, feeling pure euphoria. 

Jay’s cock is thick and long, and you feel it throbbing between your legs. The friction is too delicious to ignore, as is the wet sounds consisting of your arousal covering him. He lifts his head up to watch you bite your lip and look at him with desperation in your eyes. It’s the kind of expression he’s wanted to see from you for so long. Jay can only hope you know that this is how he looks at you. 

It’s quiet in the room, save for wanton breaths and the sound of your own arousal mixing with his precum. It’s so erotic to see you as desperate for him as he is for you because he’s yearned for this moment for so long. Jay bites his lip with every pass as you hover above his tip and he tries his hardest not to buck his hips, instead allowing you to move at your own pace. 

When you catch the tip of his cock inside of your pussy, the two of you let out an audible gasp at the sudden intrusion. His thick head breaches your fluttering hole as he grabs your waist to prevent you from moving when his tip is fully sheathed inside of you. 

“Holy fuck,” you moan, balancing yourself on his hot tip. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Jay asks. “It does, doesn’t it?” You nod rapidly and Jay kisses the side of your mouth before moving to your neck. 

You keep yourself steady by gripping his shoulders that are hot to the touch. He flexes when your nails dig into him, causing you to moan at the sight. Jay feels the movement of your throat as he kisses your neck and grunts when he feels your pussy clench around him. 

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes until your legs give out and you’re holding onto Jay’s neck as a silent plea for him to take over. He gets the hint, wrapping his arms around your body until you’ve fallen limp against his chest. Jay uses his leverage to slowly pull himself out of you before pushing the head of his cock back in. 

The moan you emit against his ear makes him feel like the two of you are starring in your very own sextape. It causes Jay to jerk his hips unexpectedly and push another inch of himself into your pussy by accident. He’s about to apologize until he feels your pussy clenching around him at the sudden intrusion. 

“You’re so big,” you whisper to him. “S-So big. So good.”

“You feel fucking amazing,” Jay praises. “Such a wet pussy and I’ve barely done anything to you.” 

You whimper at his words while closing your eyes shut and move your head until your cheek rests comfortably on his shoulder. The angle allows you to press kisses to Jay’s jawline and you do so until you feel him begging to thrust into you once again. 

The tempo he sets is slow and delicious. He feels every drag as your mixed arousal coats the rest of his cock and Jay feels as though he’s found pure euphoria on earth, the kind that men search for but never seem to find. The shallow thrusts cause his mouth to hang open and his fingers itching to touch your clit, but he doesn’t want to move unless you tell him to. 

It isn’t until you’re pushing yourself down onto his length that he speaks again.

“Baby,” he warns. “I thought–”

“Changed my mind,” you tell him desperately. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Jay nods. “I want to. Fuck, I want to.” 

You kiss him hard before pushing down on him. “I just want you.” 

Jay’s body falls limp when he feels your body glide up and down his cock like you’ve trained your entire life for this very moment. He sees the sweat building between your brows and licks his lips at the way your tits bounce against your chest. It’s sensual the way you look on top of him. Jay brings one of your nipples in his mouth and makes a home there as your hips begin to work his own.  

His body feels like it was made for you to use. The desperation at which his own hips chase yours should make him feel embarrassed, but he feels like a lovesick fool. In this moment, everything he’s ever wanted to say to you lies in the power of his thrusts and the way his lips move with yours. It makes him feel like there’s nothing in this world that could take you away from him. 

He pushes himself up until you’re clinging onto his body for dear life. The sounds you make push him even harder against your body, drilling his hard cock within you until you’re moaning like somebody’s filming you. It’s all too much for Jay to handle, and he’s glad he feels you come undone before him.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” you moan out, clenching against his cock as it works your body until completion. 

Jay pulls out and finishes on your ass just after you’ve come down from your own high. You jolt when you feel his come on your skin but move to kiss him as the two of you come down from your respective highs and he feels your heartbeat against his chest, smiling into the kiss. 

“You’re amazing,” he tells you between kisses. He tries to speak but you silence him with more pecks. “Let me clean you up, yeah?” 

Your heart feels warm. You nod and let him pry your body off of his, carefully laying on your stomach so that the couch doesn’t see the mess Jay created. He comes back a moment later with a warm washcloth and his trousers zipped up before wiping you clean. The rag is tossed onto the floor as he pulls your body towards him, wrapping your legs around his torso, and pulling your lips to his once more. 

“Stay the night?” he asks you. 

“That was my plan, but I’m glad you brought it up before I did.” 

Jay pinches your thigh and hears you laugh. He could die like this. 

“Since it’s a weekend, I think you and I have a lot of catching up to do.” Jay kisses down your neck and between the valley of your breasts, gliding his lips along your stomach until they’ve reached just below your belly button. 

“Oh? And what is it you’re promising, Park Jongseong?” 

Jay smirks up at you from where he’s positioned. 

“I have an idea in mind,” he says coyly, moving his mouth to press a chast kiss on your slit. “It has a lot to do with my mouth and my fingers.” Your body arches when Jay’s tongue licks a bold stripe up your slit. 

“I like the sound of that. Would you let me return the favor?” 

“Only if you cum on my tongue twice.” 

You push his face into your core.

“Better get a head start.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

[losersiren]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

[waepenwifestre]

Let's Talk About Security Culture: Why Keeping Secrets is Cool and Sexy

It's a natural impulse -- if you love crime -- to want to talk about how great it is. And if you hate America, it's only natural to want to share your dreams for its future with the rest of tumblr dot com. It can feel brave and transgressive. And there is a drive to share your soul with the world at the heart of social media. Surely I should be posting the most concrete implications of my politics, right? This is the poster's curse.

Security Culture refers to a set of "best practices" developed over the past several decades, largely (in a US context) coming out of radical environmental groups as they faced intense state repression, infiltration and entrapment. If you're not familiar, there's some fascinating crimethinc write ups to give you a window into that world:

Much of it boils down to: don't talk about crimes, past or forthcoming with people who don't need to know about them, and be mindful of the possibility of surveillance and infiltration. And, we can support each other as a community in minimizing risks, with an eye towards enabling bold action rather than getting bogged down in fears and anxieties. The guidelines that make sense for AG-based trouble-makers are different from the guidelines that make sense for posters, but plenty of common principles apply. To speak briefly to our position here as posters:

First, it bears saying that long term anonymity is nearly impossible to maintain. Unless you've never accessed Tumblr without a vpn, and avoided connections with other ppl who can be associated with you/your location, and never shared pictures without scrubbing metadata, and a bunch of other 100% consistent steps, it's trivial for the state to know who you are.

Second, just because something isn't actively being prosecuted now doesn't mean it can't be prosecuted later. The priorities of the state change and a shift in power towards the right or a growth in radical action from the left can suddenly make it a priority to destroy anarchist networks or just find a few ppl to prosecute as examples (who probably weren't that plugged into larger networks before getting arrested). Advocating for specific anti-government crimes or declarations of intent to commit such crimes are likely prosecutable, and even if charges don't stick, they're an easy vector for legal harassment.

Third, it's worth thinking about heat as separate from prosecutability. There are modes of engagement that may not be directly criminalized but signal that you are someone worth watching. Some people choose to be public in ways that make heat unavoidable. But it's worth noting that heat isn't strictly individualized, that it persists over time but also is going to shrink over time.

It's easy on here, ime, to see yourself as a proud member of the crime fandom but not much of a content creator. And it's easy to feel like you've generated an amount of heat where you're locked into that role. But heat you generated 10 years ago is probably pretty well gone. Heat you generated 5 years ago has faded substantially. It's worth thinking about how the world might shift in the coming years and what doors you want to keep open.

The non-individualized nature of heat also means that leaning into the spiciest of anti-state positions will make it a bad idea for people who are acting out those positions end up tied to you. Loudly talking about how "more people should be doing [X/Y/Z]" unfortunately sets you up to remain distant from people who might be doing or thinking about doing such things.

Which brings me back to: keeping secrets is sexy. Not spelling everything out builds intrigue. You can lay out a theoretical position and leave working out the practical implications of that as an exercise for the reader. There's value in opacity. The poster's curse and the drive to confess are extremely convenient for the state, but we can resist them. We can hold dreams in our hearts that we refuse to offer up to the posting spectacle.

[written-and-readen]

The Odd Are Slim But Never Zero Part 3

Moze, Phainon, Sampo x fem!reader

Part 1 (Dan Heng, Luka, Blade), Part 2 (Jing Yuan, Sunday, Gallagher)

Summary: Someone walks in on you

Warnings: nsfw (18+), penetrative sex (Moze), cumming inside, semi-public (Moze, Phainon, Sampo), marking (Sampo), getting caught

a/n: With Amphoreus comes more men to write for. I would've posted this much later if it hadn't come out. Lord help me when Anaxa shows up.

Moze

You thought Moze was supposed to be stealthy. Him coming out of invisibility scares you on the daily. Him fucking you in a random Yaoqing alley in broad daylight is a hard contradiction to that.

Your back is pinned against a wall as his cock pistons in and out of your folds. Your pants and underwear have been long discarded on a nearby crate. His gloved hand is wrapped around your thigh to part your legs, giving it a squeeze occasionally. Not only is he more bold by making a move on you out here, but he’s tougher than usual. Your pussy clenches, trying to get a grip just like you are. You don’t want to admit that some of the best sex you’ve had happened in an alley, but that may be the case because you also really don’t want him to stop.

“Are you okay?” You say as you fight back a flood of moans unsuccessfully. Something must be up to bring about this.

“Failed again,” He growls in your ear. He must be talking about another one of his attempts to assassinate Feixiao. The Shadow Guard keeps trying despite not being successful yet, but it’s only natural he’d be frustrated over it once in a while. Maybe he just wants to feel like he’s doing a good job.

“Moze!” You whine when he hits a particularly sweet spot in your pussy, a reminder of how good of a job he’s currently doing. It’s embarrassing how quiet he is while you can barely keep your noises from spilling into his ears. You try to muffle them in his shoulder as your legs quiver beneath you.

“Where do you think he went?” A familiar woman’s voice comes from nearby. A mere glance in its direction leads your eyes to connect with Feixiao’s piercing blue ones. It’s only a moment before you’re averting your gaze, face now burning. Did she recognize you in those few seconds? Oh, who are you kidding? If she didn’t, she’d at least recognize her own assassin.

You’re quickly reminded of the position you’re in with another swift thrust of Moze’s hips. You wonder if he noticed the general, but he seems pretty unphased. With his keen senses, it’s more believable that he’s just acting like he didn’t notice. You’ll think it over later sometime when you’re not being railed against a wall. For now, you just let the impending orgasm ripple through your body as Moze fills you up with the product of his own.

“You okay?” Moze helps steady you after the fact, hands on your waist.

“Yeah. You should probably get back to Feixiao,” You reply, still wondering about that brief moment of eye contact.

“It’s fine,” Moze replies. Once you’re dressed again, he picks you up bridal style so you don’t have to stand on unsteady legs. “She’ll understand me taking care of you after that. I think she could tell how much it was for you.”

Shit. You hide your flushed face in Moze’s chest. It’s going to be a while before you want to face the general again.

Phainon

You wish you could say the goosebumps on your skin were due to the cool water of the bath, but it’s definitely a result of a certain Chrysos Heir’s gaze. You can practically feel how Phainon’s blue irises trail across your body as you sit in his lap. The water only just comes up to your hips, leaving plenty of you for him to admire.

You’ve only seen each other naked a few times before and just briefly, so you can’t say you don’t feel the same. His muscular frame draws your eyes as well, slowly but surely leading them downward until you hit the water’s surface.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You hope switching the subject will take your mind off the tension. “I thought this bath was only for the Chrysos Heirs.”

“Well, you’re the guest of a Chrysos Heir. I’m sure that’s enough.” It seems like a weak argument to you, but his hands slowly running up your sides has you gasping instead of protesting. Previously resting on your thighs under the surface of the bath, his hands are still cool as they roam your skin, leaving water droplets in their wake.

“Phainon…” He’s just moments away from reaching your breasts but stops upon hearing you murmur his name.

"Is something wrong? Do you want me to stop?" His eyes meet yours as his motions cease. You pause and find yourself shaking your head.

"It's just...new." You avert your gaze, but a hand on your jaw brings you right back to Phainon.

"I'll take it slow, okay?" The way his eyes soften reveals the truth behind his words.

"Okay." You nod before he brings you into a kiss.

The warmth of his lips moving against yours has you melting into him. The water ripples as you lean closer. Your arms go to rest on his shoulders, hands brushing through the snow white hair on the back of his neck. Simultaneously, you feel his touch dance around your collarbone, twirling patterns making their way lower and lower. Finally, he lands on the curve of your breast. At the same time you gasp and break the kiss, he smiles, eyes flickering to watch your reaction. The light pinch he gives your nipple shoots pleasure straight to your core.

As you process the new sensations, Phainon presses kiss along the same path his hand traveled. Down your neck, over your collarbone, ending right between your breasts. Your brain hardly registers it all with the way his hands also move lower. Sliding down your waist, running across your hips, crossing your thighs, and moving inward until—

"Phainon." Both of you look to see the Goldweaver herself. Instinctively, your arms cross over your chest before remembering that Aglaea sees through her web of golden threads. Oh.... embarassment burns through your body at the realization she probably saw everything that just occurred in the bath before even stepping foot here.

"You better not be sullying the water." Aglaea warns in that usual silky tone.

"Well then, I guess we better go somewhere more private." Phainon stands up, taking you with him as his hands hook under your butt to support you. Looking over his shoulder as he carries you away, you swear the faintest sly smile forms on Aglaea’s lips.

Sampo

"We should not be doing this here," You say through gritted teeth as your back hits the cold stone of a wall in Backwater Pass. Despite the way you hate how Sampo's always trying to get in your pants, there's also something you equally love about it. His emerald eyes go wide as he pleads with you to let him eat you out in the alley or whatever other scheme he's had on his mind. He's lucky desperation is a good look on him.

"Stop me at any time," He purrs against the skin of your neck with the confidence of knowing you won't. It seems you've folded one too many times. You're getting predictable. At the feeling of his teeth grazing across your skin before choosing a place to strike, you can't find it in yourself to care though. Your head lolls to the side, letting him do as he pleases.

As Sampo marks up your skin, his hands deftly undo the buttons of your shirt. He lifts your bra up to see how Belobog's chilly air has your nipples perking up. There's no hesitation in the way he takes a breast in each hand, squeezing the flesh as his mouth gets back to work.

“Sampo…” You moan right in his ear.

“Feels good, pretty girl?” Another moan falling from your lips is all he needs as response before taking it further. His thigh slots itself between your legs, and you eagerly grind down against it. From the stimulation on your neck, chest, and clit, it’s somehow too much yet not enough. The desire to have his cock filling you up slowly clouds your brain, but all a sudden it all stops.

“Sampo?” You whine, trying to regain your bearings to see why he stopped. Your brain starts to register voices, and when you look in their direction, you’re met with the Captain of the Silvermane Guards rounding the corner.

You can’t imagine what you look like right now. Clothes messily pushed out of the way so your chest is on full display and hickeys running down your neck. There’s little time to react before Sampo’s grabbing your hand and sprinting in the opposite direction with you in tow. You try your best to get your clothes somewhat back in order with your free hand as you run.

“We’re never doing this again!” You shout, hearing footsteps on your trail.

“That’s what you said last time, sweetheart.” Sampo gives you a knowing smirk. You hate that he’s right. And you hate that Gepard’s wide-eyed reaction to stumbling upon you maybe turned you on a little bit.

[visacardteamloverrr]

ex's or not? cs55

summary: y/n and carlos once were the it couple, how are their lives after the breakup? did everyone move on?

warnings: writing this i was sick, i was done and i was ready to delete so enjoyy

i also was supposed to write part 2 to i'll be waiting but oh well...

y/njazzy

liked by lilymunihe, carmenmundt, and 65 000 more

y/njazzy Prague you've been great, next up my beloved Vienna 🍒

comments

y/nstan mother is GLOWING

lilymunihe music to my ears (literally) 🫶🫶

y/njazzy i'm blushing 😊 💋

alexandrasaintmleux i haven't heard you play for agesss, see you in Vienna ig

y/njazzy and whose fault it is?? clearly not mine missy

alexandrasaintmleux oh look at the time, i have to go !!!

chillis the post breakup glow up is reaaal

loverofy/n can we expect some album soon queen?

charlesleclerc exactly @/y/njazzy, care to share with the class???

y/njazzy i will not confirm nor deny

y/njazzy and lord perceval do not push my limits. besides, if you would honour me with your presence, you would know. the choice is yours

charlesleclerc no comment.

user1 she calls him the way that carlos does...

jazzychill she looks so hot in red 🔥

chillistan don't you find it weird that after all charles is in her comments?

y/nfan through all the years y/n was with carlos, she formed a friendship with charles (especially with carlos in ferrari) and other people from the paddock, so it's nothing weird

jazzlover besides, alex and y/n are besties, no?

y/nlos do you remember how carlos would always melt when y/n wear red??? because i do.

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, y/njazzy, and 2,093,728 more

carlossainz55 🌶🍔☀️

comments

soylago ON MY KNEEEES

charlosfan what do they feed our drivers, he and charles are soooo hot

chillis the second photo, two plates, carlos sainz is that a date?

landonorris and where are pics from our little golf tournament 🤔🤔🤔 oh, maybe they aren't here because YOU LOST AHAHAHAHHA

carlossainz55 cabron we all know you cheated.

landonorris what a sore loser we have here

charlesleclerc do you remember when we played uno once?

maxverstappen i wonder why you played uno only once

charlesleclerc lando almost lost an eye

landonorris I ALMOST DIED, HE TRIED TO KILL ME

carlossainz55 do NOT listen to them, those situations did not happen

carlossteponme Y/N LIKED???!!

y/nfan they actually still like eachothers posts, i believe they said something about mutual breakup and that there's no hard feelings between them

y/njazzy

liked by yourbestie, lilymunihe, and 64,728 more

y/njazzy new project coming up 🔜

comments

landonorris tell me who he is.

y/njazzy no❤️

landonorris and why exactly ???

y/njazzy i'll tell you, you'll tell oscar, oscar will tell logan, logan alex, and then magically the whole grid will know

landonorris you won't even tell your best friend?

y/njazzy you're talking about yourself or ?

landonorris PARDON #exbesties #friendshipover #offended

y/njazzy WAR IS OVEEEER

landonorris bye.

lilymunihe A MAN? A MAN? A MA-A-A-AN

lilymunihe girlies to the gc riGHT IN THIS MOMENT

lilymunihe avengers ASSEMBLE @/alexandrasaintmleux @/carmenmundt

carmenmundt i think we've missed a chapter here...

y/njazzy alex didn't.

carmenmundt excuse me !

lilymunihe SHE DID WHAT

alexandrasaintmleux tf y/n? i thought i meant something to you?

y/njazzy if i'm going down i'm taking everybody with me 😘😘😘

alexandrasaintmleux DO NOT QUOTE CHANDLER RN

user1 carlosy/nnation how are we feeling

user2 we don't.

user5 i have an idea...

user3 don't. don't give me hope

user7 fuck the guy NEW PROJECT IN THE MAKING ??? NEW MUSIC ???

user9 do i sense some movie soundtrack

liked by autor

user2 can you imagine

user5 Y/N LIKED !!!!!

carlossainz55

liked by maxverstappen, y/njazzy and 2,836,267

carlossainz55 getaway with mi amor

comments

charlesleclerc i pay my respects to her

carlossainz55 ¿disculpe?

charlesleclerc for putting up with you 😘

user carlos sainz jr i was NOT familiar

user1 which one of you bastards stole my man

reyesvdec ❤️

user2 APPROVED BY MAMA SAINZ

user6 i miss her and y/n together in the paddock

user5 that's y/n. mark my words

user1 i truly aspire to be as delusional as you

y/njazzy she's a lucky girl

carlossainz55 im a lucky boy*

user8 y/n's comment? im dead

user3 carlos' response?????? i am crying, the boy really is in love

y/njazzy

liked by carlossainz55, reyesvdec and 482,471 more

y/njazzy love. love love love.

comments

user8 our girl is in loooove 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux match made in heaven

carmenmundt you compliment eachother so well 🫶

landonorris you two are disgusting

y/njazzy jealousy, jealousy

user5 the luckiest girl???? i wonder why... maybe because she has carlos sainz

user ring ring, that's the mental ward calling for you

lilymunihe i'm heartbroken, how could you leave me

alex_albon execuse me? i'm right here??

y/njazzy lily it's just an act, let's run away together

lilymunihe i am ready to go

alex_albon HEY ITS NOT FAIR

alex_albon he can't even stand up for himself

carlosssainz55 he can

carlossainz55

liked by y/njazzy, landonorris and 5,839,821

carlossainz55 mi amor, you're the closest to heaven that I have ever been. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I promise to cherish you forever. I am so incredibly grateful for you and everything you do. I want to thank you for being there for me, even after we broke up. there is no one else on this earth taht i would spend my life with. you are my person, and I am yours.

comments

georgerussell mate leave something for us

alex_albon what I am supposed to do rn, lily won't let me in to our apartment

charlesleclerc gentelmen we are so finished

landonorris die lol 👎

oscarpiastri yk that they can see you crying, right?

y/njazzy my one and only ❤️

user can somebody check on user5

user5 I KNEW I WAS NOT CRAZY

user5 PARENTS ARE REALLY BACK TOGETHER

y/njazzy

liked by carlossainz55, reyesvdec and 171,729,819 more

y/njazzy the only ex i would ever come back to 💋💋💋

comments

alexandrasaintmleux finally the ferrari girls are reunited

y/njazzy not for too long

alexandrasaintmleux foul

charlesleclerc too soon y/n, too soon

maxverstappen i won't even ask about the last pic

carlossainz55 the less you know the better you sleep

landonorris i cannot belive this is happening

y/njazzy sucks to suck ig

carlossainz55 only ex i couldn't move on from 🫶🫶🫶

y/njazzy you flatter me

user1 the difference in the capitions pls ✋️

[quixotical-lymbo]

Hi ! Just discovered you through your D-16 x reader fic and your writing is MWAH MWAH yummy 😋 ahhhh thank youuu, I've been craving for tf one fics, I want to request a short fic with D-16, Orion Pax and Gn! Reader who's a racer from that various reader prompts you posted awhile ago? Anything else is up to you! Go wild

Thank youuuu 🫶💐

Pairing: D-16, Orion Pax x gn!racer!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: Showcasing your appreciation for your fans leads to an unlikely encounter.  Warnings/Tags: Pre-canon, cybertronian!reader with a cog, size difference, awkward flirting??, forehelm kisses, and fluff.  A/N: Aww ty for the love! Hope you enjoy :) Word Count: 800+ words 

"What are we doing back here?" Came a rushed whisper from one bot. 

"What does it look like, genius? We're here to meet, ___."

"What?! You said you wanted to show me something, not break into a racer's personal quarters!"

"Psh, I bet they meet all sorts of fans back here all the time, besides, I'm sure they won't mind the bot they blew a kiss at to come and meet them backstage." 

"...you mean me?" 

"You?" 

"They blew the kiss at me."

"My friend, you need to get your optics checked, I'm pretty sure that kiss was meant for-" 

Orion didn't get to finish his sentence when the door to your quarters opened and your shiny figure stepped out and into the hallway. You glanced down at your newly filed digits before glancing up to spot two small, cogless bots standing in front of you. 

"...." 

"..."

"Why, hello there…where did you two come from?" Your voice was as warm as the sweetest energon and caused the tense mechs to ease up. You crouched before the two and placed your servos on your knee pads. One mech was blue and red, a lot more colorful in appearance and personality compared to his standoffish, silver colored mech companion. They were obviously miners from what you could tell from their chipped paint and dusty frames. 

The blue and red mech cleared his throat and prepared to speak until he was nudged back by his friend.

"We were lost! Yeah, we didn't mean to come…all the way here," The silver mech gave his friend a side-optic glare. 

"Could you help us find our way out?" The red mech briefly met his companion's shocked expression with a teasing smirk before switching his bright gaze onto you. "The name's Orion Pax, this mech over here is-"

 

"-D-16, nice to meet you…I'm…your biggest fan! I've been to almost all of your races and-" D-16 stammered out his introduction and seemed to be digging a further hole for himself as he rambled on. His friend watched with a familiar fondness before he snapped his gaze to the racer when their bell-like laugh rang out. 

"Aren't you two the cutest fans I've met," You cooed before pushing yourself up to stand. "I'll show you the way out, follow me." 

Orion pumped a servo when you turned away and winked at D-16 as he went to walk by your side. D-16 only rolled his optics and quickly went to catch up. 

“So, ____, how do you win like all the time?” Orion started the conversation. 

“Practice makes perfect,” You replied with a smile. 

“And what do you do when you lose?” Came the interesting inquiry from the silver mech. Realizing how his question might imply something bad, “I mean, how do you deal with the pressure of needing to be the best? I couldn't imagine having all those optics on me at all times.” 

You giggled and mulled over his question for a few nanokliks. “Well, I suppose I don't beat myself up about losing a race, after all the races would be boring if my rivals weren't on my level.” 

“Right! Makes sense. I, uh, thank you." D-16 felt his face plate warm as your bright optics made contact with his. 

"You're welcome, thank you two for seeing me,” You stopped when the exit came into view. “I haven't had this much fun in a while, I hope to see you too at the finish line again.” 

“We'll be there, ” Orion nodded as he nudged D-16 toward the exit. 

D-16 bit his bottom derma before turning back around and walking over to you. 

“Can…can I get a signature?” 

You blinked before your dermas curved in happiness at the timid request made by the mech. You see, instead of signing merch the regular way, you usually left your ‘mark’ on any special fan who caught your attention. It was a very rare occurrence which is why those bots claimed they'd never wash the mark off. 

 You crouched down and tilted the mech's helm back by curling a digit under his chin. D-16's breath was caught in his intake as your dermas pressed against his helm. He stood there frozen even when Orion came to his side and asked for a mark as well.

You obliged and kissed his helm as well. 

Orion leaned into it as you pulled away, you stifled a laugh as you booped his nose to snap the red and blue mech out of his daze. 

“Well…I'll see you two at the next race,” You mused before turning to leave. 

Orion and D-16 were standing there, pedes frozen to the ground as they processed the previous events. 

“Guess that blown kiss was meant for both of us.” 

D-16 only rolled his optics before smacking Orion's arm.

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. like my writing? consider buying me a kofi :)

banner(s) by @dollywons !!

[zarnzarn]

the angsty prequel to this (ik there's plotholes now but shh I'll fix it in a bit) that i accidentally made after getting possessed and writing for 3 hours straight for what was supposed to be a short hc post jfc. angst ahead (brain damage talk, temporary mcd), but there's a happy ending!

-

zeus saying he's going to make athena's "kingdom fall" doesn't make sense unless you consider. the lightning bolt she takes to the face gives her brain damage.

no one notices at first. Athena brushes it all off, goes to odysseus, oversees their long-awaited reunion. stays in their house after- because it's not like they'll be around forever, after all. and she can do her work just as well from down here- there's no need, to be honest, to go back to Mount Olympus. anyone who needs her comes to Ithaka, and she's content, for the first time in a very, very long time.

and then one day odysseus comes across her seizing on the floor.

she doesn't know the details of what happened- only remembers the first terrified scream of horror, remembers warm hands on her face and being carried to a bed, remembers Penelope's voice shaking as she drags a wet cloth across her forehead. comes to confused and mute minutes later, wandering around and stumbling into walls, unresponsive to the voices begging her to stop, to rest.

finally, she reaches a familiar room with a familiar face, and she touches Telemachus on the cheek lightly before collapsing onto the nearest chair. panicked voices chatter above her and calloused palms lift her face up to meet her own grey eyes, worried and scared, and it finally dawns on her that something has gone terribly wrong.

(later she will find out odysseus held her and sobbed the whole night, knowing more than anyone else what had happened to her and what it meant; he'd taken the throne at thirteen for the same reason, after all)

(later she will find out that penelope wrote to every ally they had within the hour for healers and literature; letting more than half their cleverly planned schemes fall through in exchange for it as she begged)

(later, she will find out that telemachus went running barefoot through the market, banging on doors and shouting for the healers and making the alarmed roused villagers sing prayers for her even though it was the middle of the night)

she recovers under the attention; court abandoned in favour of emergency, odysseus proclaims when he bullies her into placing her head in his lap so he can massage her aching head, not having left her side for six straight days in a row. penelope comes in every few hours, feeding her the olives from the wedding bed she lies in, unable to move, and brushes out her hair. telemachus barely shows during the days, but he comes in every evening without fail, curling up by her side and hugging her tight.

but it happens again. and again and again, and each time she regains consciousness in one of the royal family's arms, no matter where she was at the time. she never remembers it, only has the disgusting taste in her mouth and dried spit on her chin and tears in the eyes of those around her to know it happened.

she loses time as well- has no idea how long it's been happening until she becomes aware of the sound of Odysseus' calm, steady voice dragging her out of a trance, gentle fingers tracing her palm as they stand next to an unassuming tapestry. she'll be walking one moment and be lost to everything around her the next, staring at nothing.

Odysseus has done this all before, she realises one day, when he seamlessly pulls her out of another relapse and ropes her into a cheerful, easy conversation about goats that Athena keeps having stilted replies to.

"Do you know how to do this because-" She murmurs, and his eyes go wide and then grieving.

"Yes," He murmurs sadly, and Athena feels guilt settle in her belly at making him go through this again. He massages at her temples, and she closes her eyes, listening to the smile in his voice. "But there is no hardship, Pallas Athena. The sadness is that you have to go through this, not for the taking care of a cherished one."

"And anyways, Laertes suffered madness in the wake of a terrible fever and the stress of a famine," Penelope says without looking up from the newest scrolls they'd received. Athena feels the guilt worsen at the sleep bags under her eyes, when she knew the reason and just didn't have the courage to- "Your sudden collapses could be due to this one witch curse we found, or perhaps a-"

"It was Zeus."

The room falls silent as two heads slowly turn to look at her.

"What?" Odysseus says quietly, with barely withheld rage.

Athena takes a shuddering breath. "I am sorry, my Penelope, that I didn't have the courage to tell you before." Penelope leaves the desk to cross the room to her, and Athena feels tears prick at her eyes as the queen takes her hand. "But when I petitioned the court of Olympus, Zeus did not take kindly to everyone agreeing to me over him- and such was his punishment. To make-"

Her breath hitches in a sob and she notes with surprise that she's crying. Penelope and Odysseus are both crying with her, staring down in horror.

"To make my kingdom fall, he said," Athena whispers, shoulders jerking oddly as she forces it out, acknowledges what he'd done. "But my kingdom is the mind and-"

Odysseus lets out an animal cry of sorrow and descends on her, pulling her to his chest as she breaks down into shivering tears, the fear running through her as she realises the scale, the enormity of the consequences. Penelope stands by the bed and trembles with anger for a full minute, before she crumples too, crawling into their bed and pressing Athena tight between them.

"I forget things," She confesses in a whisper, shaking. "I blank out during fights, cannot recall certain strategies- I- I do not know how much worse-"

"Easy, darling, easy," Penelope whispers in a rush, stroking her face. Odysseus really is so lucky to have her as a wife, she thinks disjointedly, pressing into the gentleness. "Don't say that. It won't get worse."

"And even if it does," Odysseus continues, pressing a kiss to her cheek, where the lichtenberg scars cross her right eye, to her brow. "We will write down everything you know, copy it a hundred times and keep it safe. So you will never forget."

"And we will find you a Lytrakas owl, to keep you safe when we are no longer here to do it," Penelope murmurs, lips brushing Athena's neck as she speaks. She relaxes finally under the combined reassurances, at the solutions and possibilities that would work, finding a content she has never achieved before in their embrace. "We will keep you safe, our goddess."

And they do. When she teaches the children of Ithaka sparring, at least one of them is there, ready to intervene smoothly if they sense something wrong. They make the books they promised her, and she sends it to her realm, so she doesn't lose them. They cannot come with her when she has to travel- she wouldn't ask it of any of them- but Telemachus is always humming a hymn when she's away so she remembers where to return. When she dissociates in the middle of talking, Penelope guides her over to the loom so she can weave until she feels better, muscle memory kicking in enough for it to help the gradual lift of the fog.

Odysseus always somehow knows when she's about to have a seizure, in the forty years after that they spend together. In all her time in Ithaka, she never woke up from one without the familiar gravely cadence of Odysseus singing under his breath above her, head in his lap and Telemachus perched on her thighs or Penelope by her shoulders.

-

But it can't last forever.

Odysseus kicks her out of the room when he dies, Penelope's breath already slowing on the bed behind him, peaceful in the way that means she won't survive the night. They all know Odysseus will go with her, and Athena feels herself tremble as Odysseus gently guides her outside.

"You are not watching us pass," He tells her firmly, as she opens her mouth to scream at him. He's an old man now, but his eyes are the same, and the different versions of him flash in front of her eyes as he gives her a crooked smile. "I will not have you watch, are you crazy?"

"Odysseus," She chokes out, gripping tight onto her spear.

"My beautiful, wonderful goddess," Odysseus murmurs adoringly, leaning up to press their foreheads together. She sobs. "Thank you. For everything. And know-" His breath hitches. "-know that, for the rest of your existence, remember it- that you were loved."

"How can I ever forget?" She smiles back through the tears. "I will never be the same."

"My Athene," He whispers, swaying them back and forth. She closes her eyes, trembling, and pulls him into their last embrace, last touch.

"You will always be my favourite," She confesses, half-laugh, half-sob.

Odysseus smirks at that, a trace of smugness, then turns to a sobbing, chuckling Telemachus, who's also been kicked out, pulls them both in a hug. "We will meet again, my son," he murmurs. "But Penelope is waiting for me now. Goodnight."

He closes the door, two bright last flashes of smiles aimed at them as it shuts and Athena and Telemachus both fall to pieces.

Telemachus takes twice the care of her than his parents did, somehow juggling ruling the kingdom and spending as much time as he can with her as he can. His wife is sly and mischievous, more fox than owl- but Athena loves her too, just as she loves their children. Telemachus goes with a smile on his face and an arrow in his heart, having taken an arrow for someone else, holding Athena's hand as he laughs for the last time.

It is horrible and she wanders around desolately for days, grieving. But then she sees bright eyes spying on her from behind a bush, carefully watching her to see if she's alright and Athena smiles and goes back to continue the legacy.

-

For 500 years, Ithaka does not fall- when it does, she makes sure the grey-eyed children all make it off the island, scattering on the mainland as at last, her job is done.

Which means there is nothing left for her here, and it is time to go back to Mount Olympus.

She's met with teasing quips and pointed comments, but general ignorance, no one bothering to ask where she was. After almost six hundred years of care, it feels untethering and strange, but the grief of losing Ithaka makes her relieved for it, even if she has to lie down sometimes, press her face into the roots of the olive tree scattered about in her realm and pretend there are three sets of hands in her hair, a familiar voice humming above her.

How did you do it, she wants to ask Penelope. How did you survive knowing what you were missing, she wants to ask Odysseus. Will you sit with me one last time, she wants to ask Telemachus.

Eventually, she can no longer bear the quiet, and one evening she sets out and crosses the pantheon floor to go gently sit down in Apollo's room.

Artemis is there, slouched on the floor with mud in her hair and an arrow in her eye as Apollo chides her. They both look up when she comes in, bowing and worriedly asking if something was wrong.

"Nothing," she says, ignoring the pang of sadness that that would be the only reason she was here. But the idea of leaving back to the books written in Odysseus' horrible chickenscratch penmanship is worse, and she takes a tentative seat in the corner. "Continue your work."

They do so hesitantly, conversation slower and interspersed with bouts of asking her if she wanted ambrosia or a new dish or something while she was here. She declines.

She feels awkwardness radiating off all three of them as she leaves an hour later, but it doesn't stop her from coming back again, stubborn. She will hold a conversation this time- it has been two decades since Ithaka, but that is nothing to her, and she cannot have forgotten how so soon.

Apollo seems to have prepared for the same thing this time, lighting up with a pleased grin like he wasn't sure she would come. "Enter!" He says cheerfully. "Come here, give me your wisdom on this piece I've been composing- I know, I know, owls are not songbirds, but just see if you can help, it's driving me mad-"

Athena closes her mouth and listens to the melody quietly. Thinks about how Telemachus' third daughter would have spun it, added her Ithakan folk style to it, interspersed the perfection with carefree, imperfect beats.

"May I?" She asks, holding her hands out, and Apollo's mouth drops, even as he scrambles to hand her the lyre. She concentrates, trying to pull the melody out from the strings. "Here," she says, manifesting her spear and shield and handing it to an increasingly wild-eyed Apollo. "Bang them together. Create a tempo."

They create something of a passing song in the next few hours until Athena's headache makes its way to the forefront and she has to retreat. Apollo accompanies her across the floor to her room, pressing herbs onto her even as he chatters a mile a minute, excitedly going on and on about new ideas and begging Athena to come by again. She smiles, briefly, and promises to return when she is free, going back to her pallet under the olive trees.

(She cannot bear to sleep anywhere else.)

The next day, Apollo is busy creating new songs and she knows better than to disturb him. She turns and goes to his twin's realm instead, shedding her armour for bark and a bow. Artemis and her women look as equally terrified as Apollo did at the start, looking at her like she's lost her mind, but they all straighten up when Athena raises an eyebrow and silently descend on the night.

"You must teach me!" Artemis enthuses at the end of it. She does not do anything other than scowl often, but she looks more like her twin than ever now, as she beams up at her. "I never knew there were so many strategies, how much smoother-"

"Peace," Athena chuckles, amused. "I will teach you, sister. Next fortnight?"

"Aye," Artemis says, hair matted and covered in filth, eyes sparkling.

"Here," Athena says, taking out her own ribbon- one of the many she has from Penelope, braided in her hair from all those years ago- and turns Artemis around to tie her mess of a mane out of her eyes. "Do not impede your vision in the name of wildness."

"Okay," Artemis squeaks quietly, and Athena snorts and squeezes her shoulder as she departs.

She sits in Aephastus' forge next, watching him create weapon after weapon, with the best of each round being blessed onto a blacksmith in the mortal world.

"Come to see if my work is up to par, Pallas Athena?" Aephastus says self-deprecatingly, a flash of resigned hurt in his eyes.

"No. I wish to learn," Athena decides suddenly, pushing herself up and removing her helmet at the blast of heat that comes from the forge as she nears. "It is shameful, I think, that I know not how my own tools are made."

Aephastus stares at her with surprise, then his kind eyes crinkle into a smile. "Only if you let me replace that," He nods to her admittedly rather dented helmet. "I have been wanting to fix your armour to something respectable for centuries."

Athena laughs.

Of course, once it is done, she has to use it. It fills her with excitement she had almost forgotten, the idea of a good, difficult spar, and she barges into Aphrodite's realm and bangs on the edge of the bed with her new spear, making the occupants screech and jump in fright.

"Good evening," She nods at Aphrodite, who looks to the side and then back at her as if she'll find an explanation somehow, stunned. She turns to her brother, and tries on a grin. "Ares, my brother. Would you care to spar? Aephastus has gifted me this new set and I find myself eager to test it out."

"...Are you fucking possessed?" Ares asks her, flabbergasted, and she clicks her tongue and smacks him upside the head.

"Yes or no?" She says, crossing her hands.

"Y- yes, yes!" Ares blurts out, straightening up. He looks something approaching disbelieving excitement, a small, tentative grin appearing on his face. "You are... not joking, right?"

"Do I look like I joke?" Athena jokes, smiling. Ruffles his hair in a bout of fondness. "You are the only one who will actually give me a good fight, as erratic as you are. I look forward to it."

"What did I FUCKING MISS?" Aphrodite shrieks after her as she goes. "Wha- Athena, get back here, you better have not fallen in love while I wasn't looking-!"

But Athena's not ready to face Aphrodite just yet, so she takes advantage of their height difference and strides back to her realm as her sister chases her, shouting.

The next day, they meet in the arena, and Athena feels herself freeze up as soon as she steps in. Sees the lightning scorch marks on the ground she had almost forgotten, and cannot move.

"ATHENA!" Ares booms, snapping her out of it. "TODAY YOU WILL MEET YOUR DEFEAT AT MY HANDS AT LAST!"

"WHY ARE YOU SO ANNOYING," She shouts back automatically, and Ares bursts out in a peal of laughter, surprised out of him. She knows he has three aspects- the boyish glory-seeker, the soldier filled with bloodlust, the hardened warrior- but Athena thinks the first one suits him best.

He readjusts his grip on his sword and grins. "Begin!"

-

She continues this, finding a strange happiness she never had before in meeting all the other gods, major and minor. She'd never known how intimidated they all were by her, but they open up readily enough, bringing her peace for a little while as she sits with them.

(She avoids Aphrodite, who is getting increasingly more frazzled by the day as she fails to find a hidden lover that does not exist and then switches to trying to find Athena a companion when it is clear that there is no one, in a comic game of chase around the realms that is a great source of amusement to everyone else.

She avoids Hermes too, because it hurts too much to see him. But she leaves him a book of riddles once in a while, when he's away, and he always takes it.)

Hera walks in her room one day, with her train of peacocks and attendants.

"God-Queen," Athena bows, setting her weaving down.

"Athena," Hera nods back. "I hear you have been visiting your siblings."

Athena nods, confused. "Yes?"

Hera studies her and Athena shifts, wondering what she's seeing. "The Pantheon is no longer silent, you know. The Olympians meet in the court almost every day, sharing their gifts with each other. Something I have found out is because of you."

Athena has no idea where this is going.

Hera shifts closer, opening her mouth to say something, then her eyes catch on the weaving, widening in shock. "What is that?"

Athena looks down, also unaware of what exactly she'd made. Then her heart skips a beat in fear.

"No, no, no, no," Athena snaps to her feet, shaking her hands out in dismissal, trying to stop the impending damage. "This is not what you think it is."

Hera's eyes are getting wider and wider, a manic grin on her face. "Athena! A wedding veil? Do you-"

"No!" Athena interrupts. "No, Hera, it's nothing like that, please-"

"Nonsense!" Hera says, grabbing it from her and holding it to the light, grinning wider than Athena has seen from her in years. "You must have made it for a reason. Do not worry daughter, I know you are shy, I will handle it all."

"Hera, it really is not like that!" She pleads. "I was simply weaving- I made a fisherman's garb the other day as well, it does not mean I want to get out into the sea!"

"Have you made the rest of the outfit as well?" Hera says excitedly, ignoring her as she moves to the wardrobe to rifle through. "Oh, Athena, how beautiful! Is this what you would like to wear?"

She pulls out a men's wedding outfit and Athena stops protesting to stare in disbelief. When had she made that?

"I must go announce this to the others," Hera squeals, bangles jangling. "Oh, I had almost given up on you, dear, but you have made me so happy today! I would have arranged something for you so long ago, why didn't you tell me you were interested?"

"Because I am not," She groans, pulling her hands down over her face. "Hera, please, I do not even have anyone-"

"Easily remedied," Hera dismisses her with the wave of a hand as she strides off. "Oh Aphrodite, you won't believe what I just found in your sister's closet! Look!"

A deafening din rises from the crowd there and Athena is forced to tackle Hera to the ground.

She laughs, surprisingly, and tosses the outfit over to Aphrodite, who snatches it up with a scream of excitement. Athena is immediately flanked by a crowd of screaming gods, each talking over the other, and Athena has to bellow at them all for two hours before the misunderstanding is cleared.

"Oh, but you really have outdone yourself with this one," Aphrodite gushes appreciatively as she lands next to a panting Athena. She turns it back and forth. "So soft, and such patterns! The Ithakan style, yes?"

Then her smile drops like a stone as she hears her own words and freezes, and Athena's stomach swoops, heart skipping a beat as she stops breathing. Aphrodite turns to her slowly, cold horror in her eyes, realisation solidifying at the terrified, raw, pained expression on Athena's face.

"The Ithakan style," She repeats in a whisper, horrified grief creeping into her voice. "Athena-"

Athena snatches the outfit from her and closes herself off in her realm, breathing hard in the dim blue light of the olive tree orchard. She suddenly realises she's holding the robes against her chest and unfolds it hurriedly to look at them.

It is the Ithakan style. It is, in fact, a mix of Penelope's and Odysseus' wedding outfits, in her size.

She throws it into a trunk and screams.

-

She does not know if Aphrodite tells Hera, but the latter does not stop coming by every day to pester her for details of an imaginary wedding.

So now she has three gods to avoid.

-

But of course, the effects of her affliction cannot be hidden forever. She gets up one day from the Pantheon floor to retrieve the threads from her room to be used in the game they are playing, and feels the room swim in a familiar, hated manner, and she only has a moment to feel dread before she tilts sideways and falls.

When she regains consciousness, she feels for a moment the delicate hands on her cheeks, the weight of a young man on her belly, the gravely singing above her- and then it dissipates and she becomes aware of shouting all around her.

"Can you hear me? Athena, can you hear me?" Hera says, shaking her. "WILL SOMEONE FIND APOLLO?"

Athena moans and pushes off the hands on her body, bruising in their panic. She pushes herself up, ignoring the dizziness. "Do not bother."

"Athena, what on Gaia was that?" Ares demands, ashen. "Have I injured you? What-"

"It is of no concern," Athena snaps, getting to her feet and glaring at them, mortification blazing through her. "All I need is rest. Goodnight."

They shout after her, but she's already at her room, closing the shields back up. It nearly knocks her out again to do so, and she barely drags herself to her bed before she collapses.

"What are you staring at?" Hypnos asks her the next day, confused. Athena blinks and realizes she's standing between the thrones, facing an odd patch of wall and losing time.

"Nothing," She sighs, and hefts her spear and walks away.

She fends off all other questions, curt and snapping, and the others uneasily let it go. She has not forgotten her purpose, after all, and will not do anything less than a perfect job, even with this impediment.

Yet-

"Athena," Aphrodite shakes her, and Athena blinks as she comes to herself. It is night, Pantheon bathed in blue and both of them in their nightclothes. Aphrodite is crying and Athena's face is wet.

"What-?" She murmurs.

"You were calling out for Odysseus," Aphrodite whispers, sounding stricken. "Asking him to stop hiding from training. Then laughing with nothing and telling Penelope to stop tormenting your allies."

It hits her straight in the sternum, making her gasp with grief that hits her so hard it feels new, and oh, she misses them, she misses them, she misses them so.

She sobs, and Aphrodite brings her close, holding her as she shakes.

"What is happening, sister? Why is this happening? Please, tell us," Aphrodite pleads. "We only want to help." She pushes her back to stare at her. "It cannot be just for them- something else happened to you."

Athena cannot reply for weeping, and Aphrodite's face crumples on seeing her tears. "You loved them." She says, her own voice catching tears. "You loved them so much, didn't you? That's who the dress was for. Them."

Athena sobs louder and doesn't reply.

-

Zeus' eldest daughter has not talked to him for over eight hundred years.

He still burns with anger some days, on remembering her insolence, her disrespect for his orders. Yet, now it has cooled off and he rather misses her quiet presence, her wit. She is angry with him in turn, cold and formal when they talk, never meeting his eyes.

"How fares Athena?" He asks casually one day. Hera stops removing her earrings and looks up at him sharply- she's been frosty with him since that day as well, disapproving of his actions. "I have not seen her in quite some time."

"That is of your own design," Hera replies blandly. "She spends time often with her siblings now. I am quite proud of her for it, actually- it is no mean a feat to get the entire Pantheon to sit down and indulge in few games without bloodshed."

"Games?" Zeus frowns. "With the others? Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?"

"Well, if you left your realm ever, you would know." Hera says distractedly, shrugging as she takes off her necklace. "They gather in the courtroom, usually."

The wind blows in, blows out.

Zeus ponders on this in silence, thinking of what to do next. Perhaps he should extend the first hand, since she had followed all the rules. He remembers her on the ground, beaten and burning, one hand extended to beg him to let that insolent hero she had pinned all her hopes on leave Ogygia. Frowns again in discomfort at the memory.

Her gamble paid off. Even as the Greek Pantheon declined in power, the story of her hero persisted to give the gods power, to keep them remembered.

Wise Athena, he thinks fondly. Smarter than him, he can admit now.

Zeus is just about to ask Hera if Athena would appreciate a spar when the rustle of fabric past the door of their realm catches his attention.

"Who is there?" He calls out, and Hera turns as well to look. No one enters and they both look to each other with a frown.

Quick footsteps sound out and both of them push themselves to their feet immediately, armed and tense as they rush to the door.

"Athena?" Hera calls out, confused, as they look down over the empty courtroom, Athena pacing erratically silently alone in the middle, no lights on. She does not reply. "Athena!"

Zeus feels foreboding creep up on him as they carefully walk down. "What are you doing up, Athena?" He calls out, voice authoritative. Hera glares at him, and he amends his tone, gentling it. "Is something the matter?"

Athena does not stop walking, at that same hurried pace, turning around at the end of the hall and continuing back towards them, ignoring his words. Zeus feels irritation spark, but the sudden glimpse of his daughter's eyes makes the words die on his tongue, unseeing and glazed over. She does not have her armour on, and her hair is tangled and open, he suddenly realises, along with the growing certainty that something is wrong.

And then Athena drops to the ground and starts seizing.

"ATHENA!" They scream as one, and all the gods of the Pantheon come awake, lamps catching fire as they all come stumbling out of their rooms and realms. Zeus reaches out and holds her hands down as she starts clawing at herself, drawing blood. The others start shouting and crying around them, Athena's head snapping back and forth gruesomely, eyes bleeding ichor. "Athena, gather yourself!" He shouts at her. "Cease this- cease this at once, you are stronger than this!"

"She cannot hear you!" Hera cries, falling to her other side, trying to straighten Athena out from the fetal position she is curling into with painful, stuff jerks. "She never does- she doesn't-"

"This has happened before?" Zeus bellows, outraged. His answer comes in the form of Ares pulling her weapons off her body, the ones who can't help holding onto each other and hiding their faces in each other's shoulders or staring at Athena with fear as they sob.

Her arm slips Zeus' grip and swings at him erratically before he can grab it again. It nearly knocks him down, so powerful in its animal madness that he actually feels his aspect waver to half its size for a moment- but he is her father and he pulls himself together enough to stay standing, pinning her down again.

"No, let her go!" Apollo shouts as he sits down besides them in his night robes, flipping through an old book of some kind, barely holding in his own panic and fear. "Don't hold her down, give her space."

Zeus grimaces but lets her go, feeling nausea and fear rise within him as she writhes and twists, unhearing of Hera's desperate sobs for her to stop. "What is happening to her?" He demands, unable to watch. He is furious, lightning blazing in his hands as he itches to find the culprit, to find who dared to do this. "Who did this to her?"

"I do not know," Apollo says horrifically, lips pressed thin, eyes flicking up to her and then back down to the book. "But I found this in her realm- she apparently is aware of it, this is some sort of book of instructions on the affliction-"

"Give me that," Zeus growls, snatching it away, and flipping through it. "Go get a bed," He instructs, the other Olympians springing up to do so immediately, desperate to help. "Olive- olive branches, she wakes to branches. Get water- no, get ambrosia, get a cloth to wipe her face. A change of clothes. A cold compress, if she has fever. It will stop on its own, let it run its course- Muses, what is this?"

"A lullaby," Euterpe says, pulling the book down to scan it. "From old Ithaka, if I'm not mistaken."

The gods all stop and stare at her. "Ithaka?" Zeus repeats, flipping to the front of the book. "Who has written this-"

"PENELOPE!" Athena screams suddenly, making them all jump in fright. Her back arches to a painful degree, spit running down the side of her mouth as her eyes roll back in her head. "PENELOPE, TELEMACHUS-"

Aphrodite puts her hands over her ears and squeezes her eyes shut, just as Athena takes a deep breath in and screams louder than before, "ODYSSEUS!"

(In life, he had only failed her once. But now he is dead, and cannot come.)

"Odysseus, please," She moans, in the old Greek that has not been used in decades. "You promised to help, please- Penelope, where are- where is- Telemachus, please-"

Zeus feels his heart break as proud, strong Athena breaks down on the floor, calling for mortals clearly much dearer to her than they thought. But it's not the end of it- he flips through the book again, desperately searching for something to stop this, a cause, an enemy- and then he sees his own name.

Curse proud Zeus, may his life never be happy, may his legacy forever be tainted, Odysseus has written, the letters harsh and burning with fury, even though the curse means nothing from a mortal, even though he risked the ire of the gods writing it. Below it, in what must be Penelope's neat handwriting, an equally furious and clipped diagnosis is penned- brain damage, extensive but occasional, caused by a lightning bolt to the face, that targeted her realm's power and left her with seizures, memory loss and dissociation.

A lightning bolt to the face.

Zeus stands there numbly, as the Pantheon scrambles and chatters worriedly around him, hesitantly singing along to the lullaby in the book as Athena continues to shake, unresponsive. His fault. It is his fault that she is like this, that she is left reduced to calling for dead mortals, crying blood over her siblings' feet.

He did not mean to, he thinks, feeling small and pathetic and monstrous. He did not mean for this to happen- only wanted to teach her a lesson, keep his pride; had not meant for her realm to sustain damage for so long. He thought she'd healed. He thought she hadn't been hurt, past the scar on her face that he'd felt vaguely guilty about, from time to time.

How stupid he was.

"Athena," He whispers, aching to reach out, but she screams again and it's drowned out completely. His daughter. All his own, no longer his- because she was never angry at all, these past years; she simply no longer saw him as her father. And why should she, when he has done the unforgivable, when he has done what no other had managed to do, and broken her.

What has he done?

"We are here," Hera says desperately, taking Athena's head in her lap. Ares sings creakily next to her, offtune and shaking. "We are here, love."

"Odysseus," Athena wails, unseeing. "Penelope, Telemachus."

Zeus steps back to let the others rush in, each providing their own solutions, some calling to Athena entreatingly to guide her back to herself. He is not needed here- he does not deserve it, and knows not what more damage he will wreak.

I am sorry, he wants to tell her, as froth escapes her mouth like a rabid dog. I am so sorry, I beg forgiveness, my daughter, please let me fix it.

But she cannot hear him and Zeus raises his head to look for Hermes instead. The messenger god is standing at the very back, well out of view, with a blank face as he meets Zeus' gaze. He feels a surge of fury at the lack of caring, before he remembers that Athena's hero and his son were descendants of Hermes- and sees past the facade to see the other's gods multiplied distress at that fact, unable to come forward to help without possibly making it worse with the likeness.

Zeus inclines his head and then tilts it towards Hades pointedly. Hermes twitches in surprise, then nods determinedly, running off.

Zeus exhales and looks back at Athena as she finally calms, breathing hard. Shoulders slump in relief, frightened muttering taking its place- this wasn't supposed to happen to gods, to Olympians.

Zeus steps forward and brushes her hair out of her eyes as Athena loses consciousness, as they pull her onto a makeshift palanquin and prepare to take her to her room.

"I am sorry," He whispers to her, but it is far, far too late.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley Drabble

Hi lovelies! Lia here again, I've been quite busy with school so I hope you guys can be a little patient with content since I've been stuck on a slump and there's a lot of things I'm currently busy with at the moment because of school despite posting so much last week. Here's the weekly content and I hope you all enjoy :)

Also how do you all feel if I write works inspired by old gacha songs? And yes I used to be a gacha girly, it was some wild phase AHAHAHA

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thesnowurzikdjinn @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000

Brainrot, Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley who decided he wanted to get a divorce with you because things weren't working out between the both of you, so you had to share custody of your daughter.

You managed to get yourself together, having no time to grieve that part of you that he took with him because you had a little one depending on you. You loved that girl for all she was, however she brings you and Simon together.

Not that you resent her for it, god no, it wasn't her fault you and your husband couldn't see eye to eye.. that he refused to retire after everything, maybe it was just your paranoia getting to you. You couldn't stand the fear anymore, the fear of one day he's not the one you'll see when you open the front door but Price.

You forgot how difficult it was doing this on your own until now, you could barely get up, your head was actually killing you. You pushed through, making your daughter breakfast.

You felt like you were about to throw up, ears started to ring and everything else felt numb. The next thing you know was your eyes rolling back and everything going black, the last thing you heard was your toddler panicking, calling you over and over on the verge of crying.

All while you were unconscious, your little one runs to your room to look for your phone to call her dad.

"Listen I know we—" Simon said expecting you on the phone before getting cut off by his daughter..

"Dada! Momma's dead, dada. Momma's not breathing!" In a panic, she cried it out like a mantra. Simon was in a panic, he got up from where he was and was speeding towards what used to be your shared home.

The next thing you know, you were hearing the beeps of a heart monitor. All your senses were working, all except sight.. you didn't have enough energy to open them, in the coldness of your whole body from the well ventilated room, you felt warmth on your hand.

It was all too familiar, calloused but so gentle and warm. Simon.. it was Simon. All while processing this situation, all that's going through Simon's head are the what ifs.

"Fucking hell, help her.. My wife, she's been unconscious for thirty minutes. She's breathing but it's faint and she's burning" Simon almost yelled in a full panic, he was doing his best not to snap at the hospital staff but how couldn't he? Hadn't even realized that he called you something you weren't anymore, the title he took with him.

Your little one holding her dad's hand in the waiting room, she was observant, an emotionally intelligent little girl who holds her dad's hand. Simon keeps reminding himself to calm down, how much his bumblebee must be terrified, far more than he was so he takes her in his arms.

Sooner or later they were allowed to enter, doctor said you were stabilized and only collapsed from a horrid fever and so much fatigue. Thinking of losing you, just like that with no warning would be the second time Simon would lose you.

Now watching you unconscious, IV tube connected to you because of course you haven't been eating well either. It made him rethink everything, was it a mistake to give you those papers? Was it worth it losing the one person in his life who he would give his life for with no hesitation?

All he could do for now was sit next to you, no matter how long it takes for you to wake up because he doesn't have the strength to leave, maybe in a day or two but not now..

Part 2 anyone?

[fandommothfreak]

Jason Todd's ACTUAL Music Taste

(Someone has probably already done this but I am in desperate need of a reference sheet tailored to me specifically.)

Poison Idea Jason is introduced in Batman #408 (released 1987) wearing a red shirt with POISON IDEA written on the front. Poison Idea is a punk rock + hardcore punk band from Portland, Oregon. We also see a poster of the same band hanging in his apartment, so I think this is a favorite of his.

Pick Your King (released 1983)

Kings of Punk (released 1986) WARNING FOR SUICIDE + SELF-HARM TOPICS

- The Modernettes We see another poster with REBEL KIND written beneath the silhouette of four people. In the first image shown above, we can also see "rebel kind" spraypainted by Jason's apartment door. The closest match I could find for this is a song called "The Rebel Kind" by punk band The Modernettes.

This band sounds more pop punk to me (although I'm not the best at differentiating between musical subgenres), and Jason only shows interest in one of their songs. That, paired with the sound we hear from Poison Idea, makes me think Jason isn't as into pop punk as he is hardcore. This might be one of those songs where the message in the lyrics really resonates. "I know one day we're going to leave this far behind, and we'll be free to run with the rebel kind," as just one example. I think he identifies with the term "rebel kind," especially if he's the one who painted that on the wall. (I'm assuming he did.)

Here's a link to the full album, View From the Bottom (released 1982).

- Eric Peters I have no fucking idea who this is, but he's hanging on Jason's wall. He's got a hat and a guitar and a fuckass goatee (pictured in the second image, next to the Poison Idea poster). I can find one guy who only started releasing music in the 90s and another guy affiliated with DC Comics who doesn't look old enough to be referenced this way.

The hat and the guitar + straight hair combo reminds me a little of Slash + Izzy from Guns n' Roses. They released their first album like a month after Batman #408 was released, but if one of the authors saw their US tour in 1985, it could still make sense. Or they just based it off the 80s rock star aesthetic in general. Point is, I don't know. So. Eric Peters can be whatever fanon wants, I suppose. - Blister Twister (DC's KISS) + Simon & Garfunkel We see a heavy metal band, Blister Twister, perform a heavy metal cover of Simon & Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence" in Batman #412. Jason thinks it's cool.

- (UPDATE) Slipknot & Lacuna Coil Jason has posters of what looks like 1999 Slipknot (heavy metal) and Shallow Life by Lacuna Coil (goth/alternative metal) hung up in his room in Nightwing Annual 2021, which is part of the Rebirth relaunch.

Slipknot (released 1999)

Shallow Life (released 2009)

- Some concluding thoughts! (Edited to suit Jason's Rebirth music taste.) Based on what little we get, I think, as a kid, Jason leans more towards harsher music and has a preference for hardcore punk. Punk rock and garage punk are up there as well. He likes music that sounds raw and real. He'll jam to softer punk subgenres, like pop punk and post-punk, but that's more so when he really feels for the lyrics/messaging. Maybe he starts getting into the latter more as he grows up, but hardcore is still his favorite.

Metal music doesn't show up until after the Blister Twister performance, so maybe that's his introduction to the genre? It starts off as more of a superficial appreciation ("Cool!"), but then he gravitates from hardcore to nu metal (which is inspired by hardcore). A lot of people would consider Slipknot a nu metal band, and their 1999 album sounds like a mix of a few different subgenres, so maybe Jason is introduced to more of those subgenres through them. And then Lacuna Coil. I'm not familiar with them, but reddit says it's goth metal. I listened to some of their songs from Shallow Life, and I can absolutely see angsty teenager Jason resonating with those lyrics.

tl;dr I think Jason prefers the harsher subgenres of punk and metal, but still enjoys a variety of subgenres in both. Punk was his childhood; metal was his teenhood; and I'm assuming he still likes both in young adulthood. He likes the more raw, more real-sounding stuff and songs with messages that he resonates with.

Moving even more into headcanon territory: street rap, East Coast rap, lots of underground artists, that's all music Jason likes and listens to. I honestly don't think Jason would feel much of anything for mainstream pop music since it doesn't sound very raw or real and a lot of it isn't very relatable to him, but I do still think he'd jam to it occasionally for the laughs (and there might be the one-off song that does say something that resonates).

And if we're taking Jason's love for classic literature into account, then yes, I will subscribe to the headcanon that he enjoys musicals. I don't think he'd be a fanatic, but he appreciates the story and he might jam to songs that resonate with him like "The Rebel Kind" does. (I still think that's his favorite song, as a young adult.)

If anyone who sees this can find more canon hints of Jason's music taste, please, please show me! I love these little Easter eggs.

[joudama]

I saw a post today that got me thinking. They basically started by pointing out how the Veilguard companions are super entitled brats because even though the world is ending, they prioritize solving their apparently much more important personal issues.

What really hit me is, the writers were trying to use the Mass Effect 2 template with a Mass Effect 3 level threat, without seeming to realize how completely incompatible those two things are.

I’m gonna talk a lot about Mass Effect to critique a Dragon Age game, but that’s what they get for trying to Mass Effect Dragon Age. Oh well.

First off, let me get the Unpopular Opinion out of the way now: Mass Effect 2 was the worst game of the trilogy. That’s not to say it was a bad game. It was an excellent game. Unfortunately, it was not a good second installment of a trilogy. It did none of the middle act work of setting up the pieces for the final act (this is why we get the deus ex machina of the super secret Reaper killing weapon plans plopped in what HAD just been “a small data cache” on Mars - ME2 should have been about chasing down leads for said weapon) and instead was basically a reboot that set us back to exactly where we should not have been, only now with this super cool secret society that has been secretly engineering galactic politics from behind the scenes and using their Big Evil Tendrils of Power on people and shaping events (gee, why does THAT sound so familiar, Veilguard?) and they were putting us on a mission that realistically had nothing to do with the bigger Reaper threat or set us up to fight them. The main story was about the Collectors and Cerberus, but you’ll notice how no one ever talks about that - other than to express irritation when TIM shows up to force you to go on main story missions instead of letting you do the missions you actually care about - the companion recruitment and loyalty missions - because it’s more of a framing device. Having the actual story people care about be those missions works because the main story is inconsequential IRT the world. You are a small crew chasing after what most of the galaxy believes to be a myth by sailing into an area no one has ever come back from, and said crew is: a leader everyone thinks is dead, two members of a terrorist organization, a tank-bred teenager, a vigilante everyone thinks is dead, a mercenary, a dying assassin, twenty year old kid, a thief, an old mad scientist who retired off to the slums, and a monk from an order where they die a lot. In other words: no one the galaxy will seemingly miss going on a suicide mission of seemingly no importance. That means instead of focusing on the relatively unimportant story (again, remember, it does NONE of the work of the middle story of a trilogy, which is part of why ME3 had the problems it did!), they could focus on the characters. And it completely made sense to stop everything - because there truly was not a huge rush until the Collector attack triggers to get to the suicide mission - in order to do these single mission asks of people that a terrorist organization is sending on a suicide mission. They are asking Shepard to give them some closure on their lives because they know they very well might die and not be able to do it after the mission. And it makes sense to do it, because you are literally asking them to die. It’s a last request. You do it because there’s no time crunch, because there’s no big looming threat directly hanging over you, and even after the Collector Attack is triggered, the only thing under threat is your ship’s crew. It’s a personal threat, not a galactic one.

Which brings us to 3, which is finally getting back to the story started in 1, the Reapers, which are now HERE and a way to beat them has to be plucked out of nowhere because 2 didn’t bother (and yes yes, I know about set up from 1 with the giant rift on iirc Klendagon? I don’t remember how to spell the name - but we should have been looking for that in 2 instead of doing a side quest for Cerberus, but I digress). Anyway, there is now a galaxy ending threat and it is literally destroying worlds. They are taking over more and more of space, and despite our best efforts we are absolutely losing, and we’ve got a very short time to unite the galaxy and get that Hail Mary weapon built, plus stop Cerberus fucking up our efforts, or else all space faring life will be killed off. Every mission (aside from DLC) is focused on one of those three goals, because the threat is so large there’s no room for anything else. Even when it seems like the game is setting up you helping a former companion on a side mission - Miranda and her missing sister - Miranda tells you point blank that you’ve got bigger issues than her personal problem, and you only end up doing it because you’re going after Cerberus and discovered she was there.

Now, at long last, it’s time to talk about Veilguard. Veilguard tried to tell small, personal stories, like ME2 did, while the main story was a literal world and life as we know it ending threat, like ME3 had. And those two things are incompatible. You can’t stop to go fight an old personal enemy and plan camping trips while there is a literal world ending threat that is encroaching on everything and you are LOSING - by virtue of the stakes, it needs to be everything you are, in some way, focusing on, as is what happened with ME3. By trying to do a personal story quest in this scenario, it creates a giant disconnect where your companions come off as entitled at best and extraordinarily privileged and tone deaf at worst, and like they are completely amateurish (and it also undermines how big the threat is - how big of a threat can it be really if you have time to go watch some griffin training?) You can’t stop everything to handle personal concerns when you are losing a fight for the survival of literally everyone. Act 2 of Veilguard grinds to a halt because instead of looking for ways to stop the gods, you’re off hither and yon running multi-step errands for your companions. They’re taking you on picnics and telling you to relax and have some tea. Meanwhile, the south is on fire and hundred of thousands of people are dying and the baddies are working on their own deus ex machina as you go chasing after a random mage.

[cheriladycl01]

Random Girl - Lando Norris x Actress! Reader

Plot: Y/N being spotted in the most random places you could think off and its gets to the point where people joke that they wouldn't be shocked if she posted a story from the ISS.

Lando knew his girlfriend was a bit ditzy, but that was the whole appeal that she came with. However, what he didn't expect was when he was at race weekends by himself that she couldn't attend, he'd get notifications from gossip pages, new articles and pap pages showing his girlfriend to be spotted in the most random places possible.

It first started when they had only been dating for a few months, they'd met in the McLaren paddock where she'd been invited to a GP and brought her motorsport loving father along with her. They'd hit it off immediately. Lando was shy, having this well known actress talking to him like she'd known him all his life and kind of fumbled at the opportunity to ask her out to dinner after the race.

Of course, you had swooped in asking him yourself.

After those few dates, you both became busy. Crazily enough he still didn't know much about you. Obviously he knew enough, like your age and that you were from England and all of those other weird Wiki facts that people added to your profile after you'd stated them in interviews.

So when he saw a news article that was a picture of you, in what he deemed to be loungewear on a countryside town in the UK helping your dad out mucking the stables he couldn't help but texting and asking where you were.

When you'd replied at home, it made more sense but he was shocked as you seemed like the definition of a London city girl.

And of course you were a London City girl, but that didn't stop you going back home, to your routes and getting your hands a little dirty.

After this, you were then cast in the GranTurismo movie as Audrey the girlfriend of Jann Mardenborough. You made friends with Emelia Hartford, Archie Madekwe, Joshua Stradowski, Darren Barnet and Sang Heon Lee. Of course you were already familiar with Orlando Bloom and David Harbour having acted with them before.

It was funny however, how it wasn't public knowledge that you and Lando were an item yet and you were in a movie to do with racing. You both found it bazar, but it also wasn't the usual type of movie you were in. So when fans watched and then realized who you were rumored to be dating it all made sense.

The next was he was in his drivers room with his team mate Oscar, they were both aimlessly scrolling through TikTok waiting for their typical Thursday media duties when all of a sudden Oscar practically spat his water out, choking on it.

"Mate that's disgusting" Lando complains flicking the spitty water off his wrist.

"Tell me why your girlfriend is on my TikTok for you page weightlifting in the middle of London!" he asks rewinding the video just to make sure he wasn't seeing things and that it was you.

Without a doubt, it was you. Even with sunglasses and a Mclaren cap covering your face from the general public, he knew it was you. Not only could he tell it was you because he'd seen you so many times in the paddock and hanging out with his own girlfriend Lily that he'd introduced you to and you'd both become fast friends. But the noticeable thing was the massive keychain you were holding.

You were known for loosing stuff, so one Christmas the grid decided to all get you something to attach to your house and car keys. So whenever you left the house you didn't loose them. There was a pink fluffy ball attached that Max had got you, your Mclaren Car Key was showing, the Pirelli wheel Lewis had got you. The picture of you and Lando, Lando had got for you, there was an Yves St Laurent charm from Lewis and much more but it was so specific that Oscar knew it was you.

"What do you mean my girlfriend is weightlifting on your tiktok" he asks crawling onto the sofa from the ground that he was sat on, budging up closer to Oscar and looking over his shoulder to where he phone was playing the small segment.

There you were, placing your keys into your bag before hitching it high up on your arm and lifting the weight. It was heavy and from the rest of the video not many other people had managed to do it. However you there, in your high heels and short skirt you lifted it up no problem. He knew it was in your range as you often would work out with him, and sometimes you had a better stamina than he did. That was because of some of the movies you'd had to train for in the past, making you have a really serious work out regime.

The crowd applauded you before you did a kind curtsy taking the drink from the guy who was recording the video. As you lifted your glasses up taking a drink, people stared to recognize you and started to ask for pictures and autographs. The video cut out to the next lifter before he could see what occurred from the fans that were around you.

"Babe what the hell is this on Oscar's titkok of you weightlifting for free drinks from randoms in the street! Are you okay did you get mobbed? The video cut out before we could see anything. My god its so dangerous you shouldn't be out alone!" he scolds before even saying hi to you.

"Hello to you to Lando" he laugh and he sighs.

"You shouldn't do stuff like that baby, I worry!" he explains and you just giggle.

"I was fine Lan, I had security waiting for me behind the camera and there wasn't too many people! I was fine and got home all safe!" you smile into the phone rolling your eyes at your mum who was awing at how cute he was being. After a while he hung up needing to go for media duties.

Then during your first summer break together, you, Lily, Oscar and Lando all wanted to go on holiday together. So you all suggested somewhere you wanted to go, that couldn't be your home. So Lando suggested Lapland, Lily suggested Bali, Oscar suggested Greece and you suggested Florida, specifically Disneyworld so of course, yours had to be picked being the most likely place to be seen.

And of course if you were going to Florida you had to bring Logan... so obviously when pictures were released of you and the others being toured round the parks by a cast member and finding yourself building cars in Test Track in Epcot and Lando making a Lando Log out of it. The parks were extra busy when you guys went as well so you had to have your security walk round the parks with you, so you guys just drew all the attention to you.

After this you were in New York, filming the ending of the movie you were currently the lead in. So you couldn't come to the first race after summer break.

So when Lando was chilling out at home after the first race waiting for you to land back in France so he could drive and get you, he was watching TikTok's. He was aimlessly scrolling until he saw a video that was those ones where people go up to strangers with headphones and ask what they were listening too.

The guy clearly had no idea he was talking to you, a very famous actress but Lando once again was shocked how you seem to get yourself into these situation.

You politely take one airpod out and offer him a sorry i didn't understand. He asks what song your listening to and your reply had Lando bursting out laughing as it was Voulez-Vous by ABBA. He watched as you walked off with the song playing in the background as you took note of the camera and waved with a big grin.

He checked the comments knowing there would be an outrage that the guy didn't know who he was speaking too. And he was right of course.

-user1: how has my guy fumbled like that in front of Miss Y/N

-user2: no way my guy didn't know he's speaking to the richest young actress out there right now...

-user3: boy don't know Y/N Y/L/N and he's into F1... blunder fr

-user4: it's so funny where Y/N is caught out and how normal she is, she's just one of us at the end of the day

-user5: Y/N is spotted anywhere fr

The next time was when your mugshots got released, now this was the one that Lando found the most shocking. But after hearing your side of the story he was laughing and your manager eventually got the LAPD to apologize for their actions and their mistreatment.

"So Y/N some pictures were released of you ahead of this weekend following a big apology from the Los Angeles Police Department. Can you explain to us what happened?" the F1 interviewer asks and you chuckle a little.

"Yeah, its actually really funny considering i spent the day in a holding cell because no-one could get hold of me. So i was driving to set to start filming, and I was pulled over. I still don't know what I was actually pulled over for, they never ended up telling me. But when i was asked for ID i accidently handed over my Fake ID from the movie set. Once i realized my mistake I stupidly forgot we were in America where officers are a little more hands on and he decided to arrest me for handing a fake id to an officer of the law and interfering with an ongoing investigation. Obviously once people from set realised i wasn't just late they came down to the office and explain what i was trying to do, they re watched the footage from both my dash cam that was on me, and the officer's footage and it was deemed as an unlawful arrest so they let me go. I have no idea who leaked the mugshots but I still look good!" you exclaim making the interviewers laugh.

"That's quite the story Y/N, what do you get yourself into!" he offers making you laugh even more.

In the winter season, you taken some time off so you could travel round with Lando both for his last few races and his winter break, you spent his off season with him travelling from Bali, to Australia, to Finland, back home, and then to Thailand. But you had one request and that was to go tAmerica or South Korea to watch a KPOP concert.

You wanted to see StrayKids live, and so Lando not only got you front row tickets but also came with you to their LA show. You were sat in a normal bit of the crowd with other fans who when they noticed it was you were screaming before the artists themselves even came on.

It was even more funny when the group came out on stage and it took them 4 songs before they recognised you.

"Holy shit guys is that Y/N Y/L/N?" Chris asks looking down at the crowd where you were sat.

"Huge fan!" Hyunjin shouted, even though you had worked together before in Versace as Brand Ambassadors. Same with Felix and Yves Saint Laurent. Fans went crazy at the interactions happening and when it went viral later people only commented on the fact that you were just casually at a KPOP concert with your F1 driver boyfriend.

The next time was when Lando, who wasn’t opposed to going to a casino himself walked in on his girlfriend after a race at a casino. She was there at the Poker Table with winning chips animatedly talking to the dealer.

“Babe?” He’d asked you with a laugh surprised to see you here!

“Omg baby! Hi the guys said you were coming here and I wanted to surprise you but I ended up coming here a few hours to early and now I’ve won 30k. I’m thinking I’ll get you a new watch with that” she grins as if this 30k has just changed her life. When they know that 30k is absolutely nothing to her.

“You, how do you find yourself in these situations” he laughs looking over at you before tossing one of your chips into the pile looking at your current cards.

“Hey bet with your own money baby!” You frown at him everyone around the table laughing.

“Are we at the high stakes table right now?” He asks looking round and seeing some familiar faces of very rich men.

“Yeah baby why?” You ask nonchalantly, like it was nothing.

“My god, okay let’s wrap this up and go meet everyone else at the club”

And the most recent time was when you started live streaming from the top of the HollyWood sign after making the long climb up there.

Lando just watched from Bahrain, at pre- season testing while you were just climbing up to the Holly wood sign and showing the world where you were currently at.

He did worry for a second about your inability to know what you should and shouldn’t be showing the world and when. But when you panned round to show the two security with you in casual gym wear he was more settled.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416

[chilling-seavey]

She Never Did (gr63)

↳ A/N I just had to post more sub!George because...well...have you seen this man? Who wouldn't want to give him what he deserves and peg him until he's crying with pleasure <3

↳ Summary: George is only missing one thing in his relationship. That one thing is what only you can give to him.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 19.2k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, adultery, George has an unnamed girlfriend and there is a lot of negative talk about their sex life throughout, fem!dom and sub!George, pegging, use of toys (anal beads, cockring, prostate vibrator, strap), oral sex (m and f receiving), sucking off a dildo and forced deepthroating, rimming, degradation (names like 'slut', 'whore', 'pathetic' etc.), brief mommy kink (only used once or twice), lots of lube, watching in a mirror, using cum as lube, minor CBT (cock and ball torture), (mis)use of a safeword, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, begging, choking, restraining with hands, spanking, slapping, hair pulling, finger sucking, nipple play, overstimulation, unprotected sex, aftercare, angst.

Are you busy? Can I come over?

It was always how it started, those two questions lighting up your phone screen, and they often appeared coincidentally right when you were thinking about him. That wasn’t odd, however, as there weren’t many minutes in the day where you weren’t thinking about him.

You lifted your phone from your desk to reply to George’s text message without need for any second thought, accepting him over and his promise to be there within the hour.

You knew why he wanted to come over—it was really the only reason he had since he was usually preoccupied with his girlfriend or traveling all around the world for races—but his dirty little secret was safe with you. It was thrilling, in a sense, to go behind everyone's backs like that but you were too head over heels for George to think logically and he was too unfulfilled in his relationship—in a way that was a bit too taboo to admit to others—to think of stopping what had already been started. You both kept quiet, he got what he wanted, and you got that shot of dopamine from giving him exactly that. You would kill to please him and when he turned to you as the only person to do so successfully? Who were you to deny him that?

In preparation for his impending arrival, you tidied up your apartment just enough to look presentable: putting away the dishes from the sink into the dishwasher and tidying up your desk that was scattered with papers and work, finally finishing with a re-making of your bed and a dusting to your surfaces. He certainly wasn’t coming over to analyze the cleanliness of your apartment but a small sliver of you wanted to aim to impress him; even if he was clueless to it. 

No more than thirty minutes later, your phone rang and you didn’t even have to look at the ID to know it was the buzzer from the lobby. When you answered it, George’s muffled voice through the cheaply made building speaker system crackled through, 

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Come on up.” 

You unlocked the lobby door from your keypad to let him in. 

It only took him a minute to take the elevator up to your floor and soon he was knocking at your suite door. You had almost been waiting in your foyer for him so his hand had barely dropped from the knock by the time you yanked open the door to reveal him on the other side. He was wearing black jeans and his favourite brown boots under a lined jacket with the hood pulled up over his head as if keeping a lazy disguise for the trek between the parking garage and your front door. 

“Hey.” you tried not to grin too widely as you stepped aside, “Come on in.”

It was a familiar occurrence to George so he was perfectly comfortable coming in and taking off his shoes at the door: a habit that you insisted he take up when visiting you. A few times, his girlfriend had pointed out him taking off his shoes when entering his own home—a prime example of how often he was coming to see you—and he had to pass it off with some blasé excuse each time. 

You took his jacket from him to hang it up in the front closet, leaving him in only a linen shirt tucked into his jeans as he took a few casual paces farther into your apartment as you did so. His eyes lingered on your crowded yet organized desk, littered with your notebooks and dual monitors under a large wall calendar scribed with important dates, meetings, deadlines, and friend’s birthdays. His eyes lingered on February 14th labeled ‘Singles Day’ in pink ink in your gentle penmanship, right beside February 15th labeled ‘George’s Birthday’.

“Do you want a drink or anything?”

Your voice startled him out of his slight distractedness and he glanced back at you as if half forgetting you were there, answering smoothly, “Sure. Whatever you’re having.”

He helped himself to the living room of your small apartment as you opened the fridge to serve yourself and your guest and he sat himself on the small two-seater couch. Space was limited so it was the best you could have. George leaned back and watched you silently as you set two glasses on the kitchen island and started each with a single shot of peach liqueur and then filled them the rest of the way with orange juice. His leg bounced restlessly, socked foot tapping dully against the wood floor. 

The silence wasn’t unusual as you got settled into your odd routine but it wasn’t uncomfortable, just full of an indescribable tension that had your heart racing in your chest. You took the drinks to the living room only a few short steps away and George reached to take one glass from you with whispered thanks. You sat beside him on the modest couch. 

“So,” you started, both of you pausing to take a sip of your drinks before you continued, “What were you up to today?”

It always started this way. The casual catch-up and discussion before the action. 

George sighed as he stared into his glass, lips pursed in brief though before he shared like it was a casual recounting of the morning news, “Not much. I woke up with a boner…didn’t bother telling her though because, you know, what’s the point. Ended up having a wank in the shower. Then she left to get her nails done and I tried to work but I was just staring at my laptop so…thought I’d message you.”

“So she’s gone for the day?”

“Mhm.” George said through his next drink before swallowing and then answering, “Getting her nails done or something and then going shopping, I guess. I just texted her saying I was going for a hike.”

“Shopping.” you repeated with a dull nod before countering, “Nothing of sustenance?” 

George shot you a half-amused side eyed glance, “Sustenance like what?”

“I dunno.” you shrugged innocently, “A job?”

“Not everyone can have two jobs, a degree, a second degree in progress, and multiple promising hobbies on the go at once.” George teased. 

“Hey,” you tisked, “why not? Gives a woman purpose in life. But, I guess shopping is fun too.”

You both shared little smiles through your next sips of your mixed drinks. 

You pried a little more, “How’s it been going with her?” 

George shrugged, “It’s going fine.”

You waited to let him continue at his own pace. 

He took another drink before relaxing back on the couch again, his body angled towards you habitually, “You know how it’s going. It’s the usual: really nice generally but kinda boring in bed.”

“Mhm.” you encouraged him on, leaning forward to set your glass on a coaster on the coffee table so you could give him your full attention. 

“I’ve been putting in more hours on the sim this last week or so…flying out to Brackley more often to visit the factory. She brought it up to me that I’ve been distancing myself from her and I didn’t realize it at first but maybe that’s true.”

You ignored the ache in your chest over the discussion of his girlfriend and their sex life, “Why’s that?”

George’s finger traced the rim of his glass and he sucked on his teeth for a second, trying to hide his bashful little smile over his confession, “Because she won’t give me what I want. And I’m tired of doing all the work all the time.”

“She’s really stupid for that.” you replied, earning his eyes to raise to look at you as you explained, “Why wouldn’t she want to pleasure you the way you want? That’s selfish, in my opinion.”

“She can’t help that she’s not into it. I’m not going to make her do something she’s uncomfortable with.”

You kept your mouth shut, knowing that you’d say something a little too hostile if you didn’t. George sensed this and he sat up again and set his half empty glass on the table beside yours. 

“I’m just lucky I have you then.” he gave your arm a little nudge. 

You smiled softly at him and set your hand on his knee, “Me too.”

“I’m really, really lucky.” he continued softly. 

His eyes weren’t discreet as his gaze dropped to your lips and he licked his own. Your hand rubbed gently over his thigh.

“And work?” you pressed. 

“Fine.” he answered, unmoving, “Car’s good. I’ve been consistent this year…feels great.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah…feels good.” he breathed. 

“Mhm?” you gave his thigh a squeeze and he inhaled sharply. 

There was a pause, taken up by both of you just staring at each other side by side, bodies turned towards each other naturally and gazes drifting between lips and eyes. Who was going to make the first move?

“Did you wash up?” you asked lowly. 

“Yeah,” George licked his lips, “Took a detailed shower right before I came over.”

“Good boy.”

His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, smothering a smile. 

“What do you want to do today?” you asked, sliding your hand along the inner seam of his jeans and your thumb caressed his thigh. 

“Whatever you want.” George answered.

“That’s pretty broad.” you stated. “You have nothing specific in mind that you want?”

He shook his head, his body habitually starting to lean towards you. 

“Do you want me to tell you what I’m going to do? Or just do it?” 

He sounded dazed, as if he was already starting to fall into that perfect little headspace without you even properly touching him, “Whatever you want.”

You set your other hand against his chest to keep him from leaning too close, your faces almost centimeters apart. He licked his lips again and then bit his bottom one as he focused on your face, his hand resting on the seat of the couch behind you with how close he was. 

“Whatever I want?” you repeated, giving his thigh a squeeze.

“Mhm.” he answered with a gentle nod, “You know how I like it.”

“I do,” you agreed as you rubbed his thigh right up tauntingly close to his crotch, “and you remember our safe word?”

“Yes, ma’am.” he replied easily.

“Good boy.” you whispered. 

You eased your hand away from his chest, allowing him to lean in towards you and he did so happily until you set your finger against his lips, preventing him from kissing you. He stared into your eyes. You could smell his woodsy cologne on him with how close he sat and you tried not to make it too obvious with how you breathed him in. Your finger dragged down his lips, tugging at the bottom one gently before watching it fall back into place, and your hand on his thigh wrapped around the waistband of his jeans. 

You taunted him with a whisper right to his lips, “Wanna come to my room so I can treat you like the perfect little slutty boy you are?”

“Yes, please.” he breathed. 

You linked your finger in one of his belt loops and tugged him up from the couch and pulled him after you towards your room, half-empty drinks forgotten on the coffee table. George followed after you eagerly despite the way you led him across the hardwood floor and into your bedroom by the hem of his jeans and once you entered, you left the door wide open behind you. You were all alone after all, encapsulated by the thrilling privacy. 

When you turned to face him again, George tried to lean in to kiss you but you grabbed him by his arms and turned him around to shove him backwards onto the end of your bed. He landed on his back with a small gasp, staring up at you with wide blue eyes as you stood at the foot of the bed proudly. You untucked his linen shirt from his jeans with eager fists and he helped you to unbutton it so you could toss it aimlessly towards the pillows. His body was so perfect to you and your eyes glided over his bare torso as he rested on his elbows for you, your hands dancing down his pecs and over the arches and valleys of his muscle. 

“God, just look at you. You’re so sexy.” you said, hints of longing teasing your voice. 

“Thank you.” George replied angelically with a faint smile at his lips. 

Your hands unbuckled his belt and he stared down his body to watch as you pulled the leather strap out of the metal buckle, his bottom lip between his teeth. When your slender fingers popped the button on his jeans and tugged down the little zipper, George’s mouth fell open slightly in anticipation, flicking his eyes between your face and your hands as you worked to undress him. He lifted his legs up to let you pull his jeans and his underwear down in one smooth motion, dropping them to the ground, stripping him absolutely bare on the end of your queen size bed. He stared at you patiently.

The black silicone ring that was wrapped around the base of his cock drew your attention right away as it stood out against his fair skin and nestled against the trimmed hair that grew there. He was already hard and you wondered how he managed to hide it so well in his jeans the whole way up to your apartment and as you shared drinks in your living room. He certainly wasn’t small. 

“Oh my God, angel,” you exhaled, easily falling into your role that he expected of you, “you already put the cockring on yourself?”

“Yeah.” he licked away his cocky grin, “Couldn’t wait. Knew you’d want it on anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good boy,” you reached down to gently stroke his dick with the tips of your fingers.

He hummed faintly at your touch, his hips trying to push up towards your hand and he groaned at the flexing motion. 

Your palms drifted up his abs as you spoke to him in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Coming all the way over here with that big, heavy dick of yours in that little ring…bet you’re just fucking aching for someone to touch you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” George answered, “Been wanting it all day…been wanting you to touch me all day.”

You pressed your palms against his chest and pushed him flat against the bed, leaving his legs hanging off the end, and you climbed on top of him to straddle his lap. George licked his lips as he stared up at you still fully clothed over top of him and his hands gravitated to your waist while yours caressed his chest and his abs. 

“What were you thinking of when you jerked off in the shower this morning?” you asked.

“You,” he answered, “fucking me.”

“Mhm?” you grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the sheets on either side of his head so you were leaning right over him, “Letting me have my way with you?”

“Yes, miss.” he breathed, eyes locked on your lips. 

“Just fucking every single little stupid thought from your pretty little head?”

“Yeah.” George whimpered faintly, “Please, can you?”

“Are you gonna do everything I say like a good little toy?”

“Yes, miss.” he nodded almost eagerly and you could nearly see his pupils dilating from lust in those blue eyes of his. 

He just looked so sweet underneath you like that, with your hands pinning him down and how he stayed just like that so obediently, that you couldn’t help yourself but lean down to dust a faint kiss over his lips. George flinched in pleasant surprise and just as he went to kiss you back, you pulled away. 

“No-” he squeaked. 

You got off of him, “I want you on your stomach.”

George offered no complaints despite his unfulfilled kiss as he shifted on your bed and adjusted himself to lay face down in the middle, resting his arms under his head as he let his gaze follow you while you undressed to your bra and matching panties. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip patiently with a little grind against your bed as you got yourself situated and knelt up onto the bed beside him. 

What you hadn’t noticed initially was the black silicone shape nestled between his ass cheeks, now on display to you with him on his stomach. Your eyebrows raised and you reached out to gently press your middle finger against the flared base, earning a sharp inhale from the man beneath you. 

“Oh, my good boy, you got yourself so prepped and ready for me today.” you complimented, “You must have really wanted it.”

“Yes, miss.” George exhaled, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow shyly as he kept his eyes peeking over his bicep to where you stood at the bedside. 

“My little slut saving me so much time.” Your fingers rubbed gently over the flat narrow elongated base of the toy between his plush cheeks, “It’s so fucking hot thinking of you alone in your bathroom fingering your asshole to get this little toy to fit in there.”

“It was really tight.” George confessed.

“Bet it felt so good.” you said. 

“Mhm.” George answered into his elbow, “Was grinding on the seat of my car the whole way here too. Felt so fucking good.”

You tossed a leg over his thighs so you were straddling him and your hands rubbed lightly over the curve of his ass, one cheek under each hand. George took a shuttering breath. 

“And how does it feel now?” you pressed. 

“Good.” he mumbled, “I feel full.” 

“Just how you like it, right?”

“Mhm.” he shifted against the mattress a little, “Not as good as your dick though.” 

“Good boy.” you chuckled, gently smacking one palm down against his ass. 

He flinched and groaned tightly. 

“Want a little spanking, angel?” you asked. 

“Yeah…please.” George exhaled. 

You hit him gently with your other hand before soothing the spot with a little rub and then repeating that action on the other side, forcing a tight gasp from his mouth. You could see how he clenched around the toy in his ass with every light spank, urging you to do it again. But then you were just dragging your fingers over the curve of his ass and down the backs of his thighs, before giving him a few light smacks up his inner thighs and he groaned prettily into his arm.

“That’s my good boy.” you cooed, sliding your hands up his spine ever so faintly, raising shivers in your wake back down his golden skin. The few freckles that dotted his skin were familiar to you now and part of you wished your relationship was one that would permit you to kiss each one so lovingly. Instead, you pushed your innermost feelings aside with another spank to his ass. 

“Mm.” George grunted softly at the impact, his body flinching. 

When you pulled your hands away, he rutted faintly against the bed, his face still tucked in the crook of his arm on top of your pillows. 

“Needy little slut.” you tisked, giving him another little swat to his soft ass. 

“Please, miss.” he breathed. 

“Speak up, angel.” you said, “Use that pretty voice of yours.” 

George lifted his head from his arm to word his plea over his shoulder to you, “Please can you touch me, miss?”

With persistent grips, you groped his ass in your palms to pull a moan from his chest. 

“Yeah.” he groaned into his arm as the strong persistence of your hands had the toy inside him shifting. 

“Good boy.” you breathed, massaging his ass like dough in your warm palms. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Your hands drifted up his spine and you gave his shoulders a little rub before dragging down his back again, rubbing and caressing his toned muscles tenderly. George gave you appreciative little hums as he fell into easy relaxation under your hands and his eyes struggled to stay open with how good it felt for you to rub him down. His body was art to you and you always liked to take a moment to let yourself admire every inch of it before really getting down to the reason why he showed up…besides, he would never complain about a massage. 

You couldn’t help yourself but lean down so you were laying right on top of him, pressing your hips against his ass to push that toy deeper inside him and he groaned tightly, and your lips found his neck in a gentle kiss. George’s shoulder raised up slightly at the shiver your faint kiss rose over his skin and his sharp inhale had you trailing more right up under his ear while your hips ground down against his ass faintly. 

“Oh my God.” he groaned into the crook of his arm, his eyes closed gently. 

“That’s my good boy.” you praised against the shell of his ear and gave it a little nibble just to earn a soft whine out of him. Then you were moving back down his neck and sucking a hickey into his shoulder. 

“No marks.” he reminded you breathily, “She’s gonna see.”

You pulled away from him with a small string of spit connecting your lips to his shoulder, staring down at the faint blushing love bite you left behind, and you rubbed the heels of your palms into his shoulder blades, counting his gentle protest, “I didn’t hear a safe word, angel.”

He didn’t have a chance to reply as you nudged your hips against his doughy ass in a mock thrust, just to make him really feel that toy inside him, and your nails dragged down his back just hard enough to leave ten straight lines blushing red against his caramel skin. George moaned tightly and you leaned back down to kiss his neck again. 

“Turn over,” you whispered against his ear, “I want to look at you properly.”

You sat back from him so he could shift himself over ungracefully onto his back and you left yourself straddling his thighs, sitting yourself down on them once he got situated. His naked body was laid out for you angelically—like a marble statue—and you rubbed your hands up his abs and his chest and then over his broad shoulders, giving them a warm squeeze. George blinked up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth, his arms draped on either side of his head against your pillow, entirely trusting of you, and all you could think about was how your pillow was going to smell like him that night. What a treat. 

“Gorgeous man.” you breathed. 

Your hands slid back down his chest and you pinched his nipples between thumb and forefinger, giving them a little twist. George’s little shuddering breath had you smirking proudly down at him, trailing your fingers daintily down his abs to feel the hard muscle under your fingertips and the precise expression of man that was laid out before you, all for you to touch and worship. 

His dick was insanely hard and standing up in the cool air of your bedroom with the ring wrapped snugly around the base to hold it there. You stared at it for a second, feeling the way it made your insides coil with arousal. You craved it inside you so intensely but it was a feeling you had never been blessed with and part of you assumed that maybe you never will. Pushing aside those melancholy thoughts, you faintly slid your fingertip along the leaking slit in the head of his cock, smirking at how his dick twitched under your feather-soft touch. His tense little hum had you doing it again before suddenly giving a gentle flick to the underside of the tip. 

“Oh-” George squeaked, his whole body flinching at that. 

Not giving into the touch he so desperately needed from you, you moved your legs from the outside of his to kneel yourself between his two, ordering him sweetly, “Hold your legs back for me, angel.” 

George reached down to grab his thighs and he pulled his legs back towards his chest for you, giving you room to stare at his thick cock between his thighs. Your hands rested on the undersides of his knees and pushed them farther apart. 

“Wider, handsome.” you cooed, “Hold them open by your ankles.”

When he obeyed you and kept a snug grip around each of his ankles to really hold his legs open wide, he looked filthy and so submissive like that, just waiting for you to do whatever you wanted to him. He was so spread and nearly bent in half that you had a clear view of his dick, his balls, and right down to his asshole that still held that matte black toy nestled inside it. 

“Good boy.” you praised and, with a gentle knuckle, you caressed his perineum. 

“Oh, please, miss.” George whimpered, his head falling back against the pillow beneath him, “Please touch me, I’m so fucking horny.” 

You didn’t offer him another word before you were leaning down and dropping out your tongue to lick right up the underside of his cock. The hitch of his breath had you smothering your smile behind another slow lick, dragging your full tongue right up the impressive length of his erection until you could taste the hints of salty precum that leaked from the tip onto your tastebuds. 

“Fuck.” George exhaled, staring down his body at you between his spread legs while your tongue caressed the underside of the tip of his cock, rubbing against the most sensitive spots that had his chest rising and falling heavily. 

With your hands resting daintily on his abs, you shifted onto your stomach so you could reach him easier and you pressed a sloppy wet kiss to the head of his cock. It twitched against your lips and you licked at it tauntingly, staring right back into his wide blue eyes up his vast expanse of abs and chest underneath you. You were always cruel with your teasing and he knew this well, but he also knew that the more you teased, the more you would reward him generously for taking it. So he didn’t argue. 

“Such a pretty dick.” you whispered right up against it with your lips brushing the soft skin of the head. You gave it another kiss. “Pretty dick on a pretty boy.” 

George licked his lips. 

You gave the head of his cock a little teasing suck before sitting back on your knees again and he literally whined at the loss of your fleeting contact. He stayed right where you had positioned him even as you leaned over his body to tug open your night table drawer and pull out a bottle of lube. His eyes nearly shone at the sight of it in your hand and the pop of the cap had him licking his lips excitedly and adjusting his hold on his ankles. 

You squirted a generous amount of lube onto the head of his cock, watching it drip down the sides filthily and right to the black silicone ring around the base. Then your hand was wrapping around it and smearing the lube back up the shaft of his cock, just gently enough to pull a shuddering breath from George’s chest. He lolled his head to the side as he watched you but his gaze caught in the mirrored closet doors just to the right of your bed and he gazed into the reflection. Seeing himself spread so salaciously on your bed had his cheeks turning pink but he couldn’t stop staring at it all the same - especially as he had a clear view of you knelt on the end of the bed with your slippery hand wrapped around his aching cock.

“Good boy.” you whispered, stroking him in gentle pumps of your hand until the room was filled with the wet squelch of lube. 

“Ohh God.” George moaned shakily. 

You let your other hand join your right, wrapping your fingers and thumb around the ring that held strong at the base of his dick and you kept him still as your right hand pulled twisting strokes. 

“You have such a big dick.” you breathed, “Can’t even get my fingers all the way around it.” 

“It’s yours.” he whispered, staring intently at the reflection in the full length mirror to his right. 

“Yeah, you belong to me, don’t you, baby boy?” 

“Yeah.” he exhaled. 

You gave his dick a little snug squeeze around the tip to have him gasping lightly as you ordered, “Look at me.”

George tore his eyes away from the mirror to meet your gaze and just as he did, you sped up your hand around his cock in quick flicks of your wrist. His nose scrunched up slightly as you gave him the attention he craved and he sunk his teeth back into his bottom lip with a soft chuckle laced so prettily with a whimper.

“You like looking at yourself, huh?” you taunted. 

George just hummed tightly, staring down at your hand tending to his aching cock with both hands, one perfectly still as the other jerked him off rapidly until his toes were curling in the air where he was holding them. Then you stopped suddenly and his head tossed back with a little grunt, only having to linger in that unpleasant ache for a few seconds before you slowly started stroking his dick with both hands in opposite twisting pumps. 

“Ohh fuck.” he whined and he met his reflection again easily, staring at himself and his expression’s natural waver. 

“You really like looking at yourself.” you reiterated, “Looking at what a perfect, beautiful little slut you are?”

“Yes, ma’am.” George groaned. 

“Yeah, you can’t even look at me when I ask you to…you just gotta stare at yourself in that mirror, huh?” you pressed. 

George turned his head back towards you, “Sorry.”

“Watching me stroke your dick is too much for you, angel?”

George exhaled, “Yeah.” 

“Mhm?” 

Your right hand was focused on the top half of his dick and with his response, you gave him quick little pumps right around the tip that had his head arching back against the pillow with a moan. 

“Oh, baby-” he withered. 

“Good boy.” you praised lustfully. 

The slick sound of your lube streaked hand tending to his cock filled your quaint bedroom and George stared down at it with his mouth agape. He gave you the sweetest sounds that made you wonder how anyone could deny him all the pleasure in the world, just how he wanted it. Just the sounds of him had you wanting to give it all up for him, giving him anything, so long as he kept moaning for you. It was what you thought of and imagined on those lonely nights after he went home to his girlfriend and you were left to touch yourself to the mere memory of him and the scent of his sweat and cologne that lingered on your pillow.

His cock throbbed in your hand under your impressive flicks of your wrist and once his nose started to scrunch up with pleasure, you stopped and pulled your hands right off of him. George inhaled sharply as his head fell backwards again and he groaned lowly to the ceiling at your edging.

“Fuck, I wanna cum so bad.” he spoke shakily. 

“Did you not cum this morning?” you asked, trailing your finger down the shaft of his dick, “In the shower?”

“Yeah, but…” he sniffled, “Barely.”

You cracked a small smile, cooing down to him lustfully, “My poor baby boy.”

George hummed in faint appreciation for your acknowledgment of his treacherous struggle and as both of your hands gently cupped his balls, his hum molded into a soft moan. 

“Poor little angel just wants to cum.” you tisked, massaging him in your hands snugly, “These heavy balls just need some relief, don’t they?”

“Yeah.” George exhaled, readjusting his grip on his ankles as he still held himself spread for you.

“Mhm.” you leaned down and wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock for a little suckle, hollowing your cheeks to make him feel the warm wet confines of your mouth that was only for him to be blessed with. 

“God.” he groaned through his teeth. 

You pulled off him again with a pop and his ample cock fell up against his abdomen, glistening in lube in the light from your open curtains. Without any tissues nearby, you reached for his linen shirt that was laying tossed over your opposite pillow from moments earlier when you stripped him in a rush, and you used that to wipe the lube off your hands. As you did so, you instructed him gently, “Hands and knees now, please, handsome.”

George dropped his legs with a half-relieved sigh and he turned over onto his hands and knees as expected of him, facing your headboard. Dropping the shirt to the side again, you rubbed your soft hands over the curve of his ass and leaned down to kiss one cheek before punctuating the soft act with a hard spank. He grunted tightly at the impact. 

“We’re gonna take this toy out of you now, okay?” you warning. 

“Okay.” George exhaled. 

You grabbed the bottle of lube and squirted another pump right between his cheeks and you watched as the clear liquid trickled down to his asshole and spread itself around the body of the toy that was nestled inside him. With a careful hand, you slid two fingers under each side of the flared base like you were handling a corkscrew and you gave it a gentle twist just to smear that lube around a little more. George’s tight inhale had you caressing his thigh with your other hand and you held him gently as you started to pull at the toy. 

You could see how his muscles stretched around it as the body of the toy was slowly eased out of him and you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to keep focused on your cautious move. George’s mouth was hanging open as he stared over into the mirror again to watch, letting out a tight groan as the modest size sphere was pulled from his ass. You had anticipated that it would be done and he had just tucked a cheeky little buttplug up there before coming over, but even when you pulled it out, it was still stuck inside. 

“Naughty little slut, look at you.” you chuckled, giving the base of the toy a little teasing tug, “Didn’t even know you had a bigger plug.”

“Ordered one last week just for you, miss.” George confessed behind blushing pink cheeks. 

“You’re such a good boy, baby.” you tisked. “How’d you sneak it past her?”

“Kept it under one of my old helmets in my office.” George answered obediently. “It’s where I keep all my presents for you.” 

“For you.” you corrected him. 

“For me.” he repeated softly. 

“Yeah, it’s all for you, angel.” you reminded him sweetly and gave the toy another little tug. 

George groaned softly and you kissed the bottom of his spine, holding him tenderly as you carefully eased out the second sphere. He was so sensitive and tight and it took a fair amount of effort to finally get the toy completely out of him with a careful hand. 

When it finally came free with a filthy wet pop, George gasped for breath after having held it for the last few long seconds and you stared at how his hole clenched and gaped back at you. You couldn’t help yourself but slide two fingers inside him, slicked up easily in the excess lube that coated his skin and dripped down the toy. The return of the sight fullness had George moaning softly, thankfully, and you kissed his back again before eyeing the anal beads that rested used in your open palm. Three fair sized spheres were equally spread up the narrow silicone base, glistening in lube, and the mere concept of him standing alone in his ensuite bathroom and lubing himself up to slide these in his ass for you had you pulsing with desire for the man at your mercy. 

The anal beads were tossed to the side of the bed, landing on top of his discarded shirt, and you kissed down his spine again as your fingers thrusted into him slowly. George’s reverberating moan had you smiling against his skin and prying apart his flesh with your free hand, giving you room to drop your tongue out and lick around your fingers that were pushing shallowly inside him. He literally withered and his legs naturally spread a little wider, welcoming you in closer. 

You pursed your lips and let a thick dribble of spit fall onto your fingers and your tongue followed after it, swirling it around the snug rim of muscle that hugged your two digits tightly. George groaned shakily and you lapped at his asshole gladly, loving the way he was so vocal and trusting with you. You would give him anything. 

“Fuck, that’s so good, baby.” George exhaled, staring at himself in the full-length mirror to his left, earning a full view of his naked body on hands and knees and your face buried behind him with your hand on his waist.

His breathing alone was erotic and you pulled your fingers out of him so you could have a clear shot at his ass with your tongue, kissing it wetly a few times as your slippery hand dropped down to take hold of his dick between his legs. George let out the shakiest little whine as you started stroking his cock sloppily and let your tongue swirl and pry at his asshole between wet messy kisses. He slumped down onto his forearms against the bed without tearing his locked gaze away from the mirror, wide eyed gaping at how you stroked his dick and smothered yourself between his cheeks. 

“Ohh-” he whimpered, fisting the pillow in his large hands, “Yeah, please-”

You pulled away from him with a taunt, “Does that feel good, baby boy?”

“Yes, miss. Feels so fucking good.” he pleaded. 

Your tongue nudged inside him and he pushed back against your face desperately. You kept a snug grip on the base of his cock, holding his balls in your palm at the same time, to give all your focus on rimming him filthily. The wet slurps that fell from your throat were only dramatized slightly because, in reality, he did make you drool uncontrollably. Your free hand pulled back to spank him again and as you did so, you could feel him clench under your tongue, making you chuckle warmly against him as you pulled him back on your mouth by a snug handful of his flesh. 

“Christ, I need it.” George begged, pushing back on your face some more, “I need you inside me.”

“Mhm?” you taunted against his body, spanking him again, ordering with a muffled voice as you kissed down the backs of his thighs, “Beg for it.”

“Please, fuck me.” he answered easily, the words spilling out of him, “I really, really need you to fuck me. I need it so bad. Been wanting it all day, mommy, please let me take your dick.” 

You dragged your tongue right back up his thigh and over his balls and perineum and you left him with one more wet kiss to his asshole. You could never say no to him. Not when he asked so prettily.

Sitting back from him, you left him with a hard slap across the ass, already starting to see the blush of pink of your handprint left behind on his fair skin as you told him, “I don’t want you touching yourself. Keep your hands flat on the headboard so I can see them.” 

George slid his hands out from underneath him and, resting forward on his elbows, he set his palms against the wood of your headboard. You gave him another little spank before getting off the bed. He watched intently as you reached behind your back to unclip your bra and let it fall to the floor, quickly followed by the drop of your panties. He licked his lips in anticipation and his gaze followed your every slight movement as you opened your bedside table drawer again to retrieve your purple dildo and black leather harness. 

“Oh my God.” George exhaled impatiently as he watched you buckle the harness around your hips and thighs, “That’s your biggest, right?”

“Yeah.” you answered, “Is that okay?”

“Fuck yeah, that’s okay.”

You dropped your smirk at his response as you tucked the dildo through the secure loop in the harness, “Of course you want the biggest one, fucking slut.”

George hid his smile into the crook of his arm with his hands still held against your headboard like you asked. His eyes never left you as you made sure the strap-on was secure and even when you climbed back onto the bed behind him, he stared at you through the mirror. You were awe-inspiring to him. 

The pop of the bottle of lube had his teeth sinking into his bottom lip but the dry squelch that came with the press of the pump wasn’t what was expected. George glanced over his shoulder at you as you shook it and then squeezed the pump again, earning nothing but a little drop to come out onto your hand. 

“Looks like I’m out of lube.” you announced. 

George’s eyes widened and he nearly sounded heartbroken, “No.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry.” you leaned over him to reach into your open drawer again, “I have a spare.”

He hid his embarrassment over his obvious momentary disappointment into the pillow, “Good.” 

“Just shows how often you come over, huh?” you gave his bum a little pat before unlocking the cap of the new bottle, “Already gone through the bulk size in a matter of a month.” 

“Sorry.” George mumbled, his voice muffled by fabric.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Georgie.” you assured him as you pumped a few generous squirts onto the strap and then slicked it up with your hand, “I always love having you over to hang out.” 

George offered a half smile that you didn’t catch at your little joke before he was countering gently, “You’re spending so much money on lube.”

“Fine then.” you compromised as you smeared some around his asshole and slid two fingers inside to get him nice and slick, “Next time, you bring your own bottle.” 

George chuckled softly, “Deal.” 

You grabbed his stray shirt again and wiped your hands off before tossing it and the bottle to the other side of the bed to give you your hands free. George’s flushed skin welcomed your warm hands and you caressed his waist and the flesh of his ass and you slid the length of the strap-on between his cheeks. 

“Get comfy, angel.” 

George slid his arms back underneath him to be propped up on his forearms, bent at the waist, with you between his spread knees. He shuffled back towards you a little so he could feel the slick jelly dildo poking against him. 

“Okay.” he said. 

You held the base of the toy between thumb and forefinger, sliding it teasingly between his cheeks as you asked, “Softer or rougher today, baby?”

“Whatever you want.” George replied, his voice strained with anticipation. 

You tisked at his response, “And yet I’m not the one getting it up the ass.” 

George smiled into the reflection of the mirror and he fisted your pillow underneath his arms as you lined up with his asshole. He took a routine few deep breaths and then you were slipping inside him slowly. Watching the both of you through the mirror, George could also see how his mouth dropped open and his face screwed up at the tight fit and he sunk his teeth into his forearm through the ache that it pushed through his insides. 

“Ah, fuck.” he squeaked. 

“Good boy.” you held his waist snugly to hold him steady as you guided the strap into him deeper, nice and slowly, “You’re so fucking tight, angel. Always makes me really have to push here.” 

When you reached about halfway, you stopped and leaned down to kiss his spine and your hands caressed his waist comfortingly as he adjusted to the size. George groaned and tried to push back on you some more. 

“Aww, you want it that bad, huh?” you chuckled, slapping your hand down against his ass as you sat back on your knees proudly, having him bent over in front of you, “Want me to give you more?”

“Yes, ma’am.” George mumbled. “Please.”

“Yeah? You’re so desperate for dick, aren’t you, angel? Just begging me to push it all the way in and fill your tiny little asshole right up.”

George withered at your words, “Oh God, please.” 

You eased in deeper, painfully slowly, and George’s grip tightened on the pillow as he stared with a narrowed strained expression into the mirror. You spanked him again before speaking, “Baby boy just needs to get fucked properly, isn’t that right? Coming crying to me to give him what he wants…to be filled up and fucked until he can’t think straight…called a pretty boy…darling little angel…my perfect little slut.” 

“Yeah, I’m your slut.” George whimpered, his biceps bulging as he strained against you and pushed his ass back right up against your body so the strap was tucked all the way inside him. His withering moan was heavenly and you slapped your hand down hard against his blushing flesh, a big handsome man turned to putty in your hands. 

“Beg for it.” you ordered. 

You met his eyes in the mirror as he stared at you longingly, a sweet desperate pout on his lips and he gave you a little whine before speaking angelically, “Please, miss, you own me. Please fuck me like your good little whore. I’ll be so good for you, baby, please, I need you to fuck me until I can’t think straight.”

The sharp slap of your hand against his ass made him wince and gasp. 

“Good boy.”

Another spank. 

“Good fucking boy.”

Another. 

George pushed back against you desperately, starting to fuck himself on the strap, “Please, please, please, gimme that dick.”

You gave him one more hard spank before you were grabbing the blushing flesh of his ass in both hands and yanking him back onto the toy. 

“Fuck.” George grunted, his mouth falling open as you started to fuck him slowly. His eyes literally rolled and he dropped his face into the crook of his arm. “Oh, fuck-” 

“There you go, angel.” you spanked him again as you thrusted into him steadily, “This what you needed?”

“Yes, ma’am.” he responded obediently. 

“Good boy.” 

Your hands gripped his waist as you gave him tauntingly slow, deep curling thrusts that had his hands gripping the pillow tightly. George’s trembling little moans had you biting back your proud smirk, pushing into his tense body until your hips were pressed right up against the curve of his ass again and again. 

“Feels so fucking good.” he exhaled. 

“Yeah?” you kept your slow pace going, “But you’re not gonna cum until I tell you to, isn’t that right?”

George groaned as you pushed deeply into him, “Yes, ma’am.”

You couldn’t help but start to thrust into him a little faster, paired nicely with a nice sharp spank to his blushing ass and you stared down at how it jigged with each nudge of your hips against it. George moaned into the pillow and kept himself in perfect place for you, the perfect angle for you to watch the thick dildo disappear inside him completely with each thrust. The lube squelched filthily between you and his skin was shimmering in it, keeping your motions gliding easily no matter how tight he gripped around the strap. 

“Can I touch my cock?” George asked, his words muffled by the pillow. 

You spanked him again, “No.” 

“Oh.” he whimpered in reply, smothering his face into the crook of his arm. 

“Am I not fucking you well enough, angel?” you taunted him with a voice filled with demeaning tones, “Am I not giving you what you want?”

“My God, I want more.” George pleaded. 

You spanked his ass again, “Who’s in charge?”

“You.” 

He squirmed on the bed and spread his legs a little farther apart with a huff. You slapped your hand down on his blushing ass again as you kept your lazy thrusts going, barely giving him enough to cause the bed to creak. In fact, the only sound was the steady squish of the lube and George’s whimpery breaths. 

Finally, 

“Red.”

George mumble of the safeword had you stopping right away and you rubbed your hands up his back comfortingly. 

“I hear you.” you acknowledged, “What happened? Do you want me to pull out?”

“No.” George whined, reaching back to grab your thigh to make sure you stayed tucked deeply inside him, “I just wanna cum.”

“That’s not a reason to use your safeword.” you spanked him harder in punishment, “You can’t use your safeword just because you’re not getting what you want. Last time I checked, you wanted to do whatever I wanted.” 

George groaned heavily into the sheets in frustration, “Sorry, ma’am.”

“Now, was there something serious or were you just being a brat?”

George turned his head and pouted at you through the mirror, “Was just being a brat.”

“Forgot who’s in charge, hm?”

He refused to answer that question. 

“Let me remind you.”

When you pulled out of him, he let out a strained gasp and you left behind his gaping hole that you left like that just to make him ache and squirm. Instead, you got off the bed and walked around to the side, situating yourself to stand right in front of his head and you tangled your hand in the back of his hair to force him closer. 

“Open your mouth.”

George hesitated a moment—knowing what was coming—and he let his eyes raise up your body to your face as he opened his mouth obediently. Drunk on lust, your precision wasn’t great, and the tip of the lubed up dildo hit the corner of his mouth first as you tried to shove it in, smearing lube over his cheek, but he then turned his head slightly to help you get it in properly. The taste of artificial strawberry that came with the unpleasant texture of the excess lube that coated the strap-on made George’s eyebrows furrow and you pulled his mouth down farther around it. He gagged on it when he got only halfway and he tried to pull back but you held his head in place with a secure hand in his hair. 

“Show me what a needy little cockslut you are.” you spoke down to him, “Choke on my dick.” 

He didn’t have much of a choice as you started to thrust the strap into his mouth although he didn’t put up a fight against it either. Instead, from his position on his elbows, George raised a hand up to wrap around the base of the harness to try and control it as much as he could, even as you fucked the wet gags from his throat until he was drooling down his chin. With a furrowed expression of filthy punished bliss, George’s blue eyes raised up your body to your face and you were blessed with the sight of him taking your favourite dildo balls deep into his slobbery mouth. 

“God, fucking look at you.” you exhaled, your pussy absolutely throbbing at the mere sight of him, “You look like a pathetic fucking whore, choking on my strap like a good little toy.” 

George moaned weakly for you, tears brimming in his eyes as you fucked the dildo against the back of his throat and he gagged loudly around it. You pulled it back to give him a bit of a break to catch his breath while you smeared the faux cockhead against his spitty lips as he licked them breathlessly. But seconds later, you were pushing back into his mouth and tugging him down again onto the strap, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip at the gurgling sound he made as you filled his throat with your essence of power. He took over for you as he grew used to the motions and he drooled down the toy with ungraceful bobs of his head. 

As he did so, George dropped his hand from the base of the dildo to set a gentle hand against your inner thigh, only finding your skin damp in the process. He pulled off the strap with a faint wet pop and spoke up to you, “Are you okay?”

Ignoring his innocent question since you knew he had just found out how damn horny you were from the way you were literally dripping down your thighs, you lifted your right leg up off the ground and tossed it over his shoulder, tugging his head closer to the edge of the bed by his hair, “Clean it up.”

George dropped his tongue out to drag messily over your glistening pussy - something he had never done with you before. The act always felt too adulterous to him but in that moment, he was way too horny to care and he was ready to do anything to get you to fuck him again. His tongue had you withering and your body jumped slightly at his warm wet touch, even as he licked up your inner thighs and suckled on your damp skin. You rubbed your pussy against his mouth and George groaned against you, lapping at your folds and suckling on them greedily to taste you as much as he could. 

Still standing at the side of the bed, when you tried to adjust your position your leg behind his shoulder ended up bonking him in the back of the head. You gently rubbed your hand through his hair over the spot with a quick, “Shit, sorry.”

George barely pulled away from you as he replied with a hurried, “That’s okay. That’s okay.”

You stared down at him with his face between your legs and the thick purple dildo standing up tall from your harness and hindering the view off half of his face. But he kept his eyes on you right back with his long lashes fluttering slowly in pleasure as he ate you out hungrily and savoured the taste of you on his tongue. He swore you were the best thing he had ever tasted and he moaned against your cunt with his nose bumping against your clit, ignoring the ache of his neck at the slightly awkward angle just so he could smother himself in you. 

“God, look at my good boy.” you exhaled, your fingers tightening in the back of his hair, “So fuckin’ pussy whipped.” 

George’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at your words, his soft moan against you proof of just how much he was enjoying it, and he shook his head slightly to get his tongue deeper inside you, ready to please. Your heart was racing but you refused to show it, desperate to keep your higher ground above him just how he liked it. 

With your hand in his hair, you pulled him away from your pussy and he separated reluctantly with a wet slurp, peering up at you with glistening lips. You reached down with your free hand to smack his cheek a few times, speaking to him sweetly, “Look at my pretty boy with his face covered in my pussy juice just like he’s meant to.” 

“You taste so fucking good, mommy.” George breathed, licking his lips. 

“Yeah?” you pushed two fingers into his mouth and he let you pry him open so you could bend down slightly and spit against his eager tongue, “Aren’t you a lucky fucking boy then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he agreed easily.

You took hold of the strap and carefully guided it over his wet lips and over his cheek, rubbing his face with it even as his eyes fluttered closed and he groaned filthily. His lips were pouted and cheeks were flushed pink and you slapped the heavy jelly dildo against his face a few times. 

“Kiss it.” you ordered. 

George puckered out his lips and turned his head slightly to deliver a kiss to the head of your strap and as you rubbed it over his mouth a few more times, he gave it a few more kisses. 

“Open your mouth.” 

He did, and you slid it back into his mouth against his tongue and he gladly moaned around it, starting to suck it off right away. With shallow bobs of his head, he was already starting to gag on it and his fingers wrapped in the leather harness that was snug around your thigh. A single tear trickled down his cheek and he stared up at you longingly, desperate for praise. 

“My pretty boy.” you swiped the tear away with your thumb and held him tenderly by the head, “You look so fucking pretty with these tears on your face from my dick.”

George smothered himself down on it some more, gagging loudly around it, and you scratched your fingers gently through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. 

You asked him sweetly, “Gonna be a good little boy for me and let me fuck your ass?”

He pulled off the strap to answer breathlessly, “Yes, ma’am.”

You took your leg back from over his shoulder so you were standing properly at the side of the bed and you gave his cheek a few little pats before bending down to take his lips with yours in a filthy kiss. George honestly whimpered thankfully at the treat, kissing you back insistently for only a few seconds before you were breaking away from him and returning to your rightful spot at the foot of the bed. 

“Right up on your hands and knees now, handsome.” you instructed while you shuffled up behind him again.  

George arranged himself without complaint and as he did so, you grabbed the bottle of lube again and reapplied some generously to your dildo to make up for the prior application that was wasted by the faux blowjob you just made him give you. Again, his shirt was used to wipe off your hand after you stroked the strap in lube and then you were angling the head right up against his puckered hole. 

“Please.” George exhaled. “Please, I need it so bad, miss.” 

You eased back inside him slowly and he let out a long trembling moan right along with it until you were fully inside him. He then received three hard spanks by your hand before you were grabbing his waist and starting to fuck him again. 

“Ugh, fuck.” he withered, fisting the sheets under his straight arms. 

“Good boy.” you praised, spanking him again, “That’s my good boy.”

George’s wavering moan was shameless and it only grew louder as you tangled a hand in the back of his hair and yanked his head back, making him whine out to the walls of your room. He reached a hand up to smack flat against the wall behind your bed, trying to push himself back into your every thrust, pleasure smeared all over his face. 

You propped one foot up onto the mattress to fuck him deeper, really giving it to him until the bed was creaking underneath you. With another spank, you reached underneath to grab his dick and gave it a gentle squeeze before wrapping your hand around his balls and giving them a little tug. George’s tight grunt from his throat was mixed pleasurably with pain and his eyes screwed up as you literally had him by the hair and the balls. 

“You’re not going anywhere.” you reminded him. 

“No, ma’am.” he answered squeakily, “I’m yours.”

“That’s right. These big, heavy balls are mine.” 

George let out the sweetest moan as he pushed back against you and you gripped him a little tighter, fucking him strongly until the headboard was hitting the wall in steady thuds. The whimpers tumbled from George’s throat and it wasn’t long before he was unable to hold himself up anymore and he slumped down onto his forearms against the bed. You let go of his hair to let his head drop between his arms and you spanked him right across his blushing ass instead, watching yourself fuck him strongly. 

“I know you need this.” you spoke down to him, “I know you can’t live without my cock in your ass.”

“Uh huh.” George whined. 

“You might like pussy but you can’t fucking live without my cock up your ass, huh?”

“No, ma’am.” George agreed easily, his face screwed up in pleasure, “I’m yours. I’m all fucking yours.” 

You spanked his ass hard, “Tell me you’re my little cockslut.”

“I’m your little cockslut. I’m your slut.” George cried out. “Fuck!” 

“That’s right.” you slid both of your hands up his back and pressed them down against his shoulder blades, forcing him to slide flat on the bed so he was bent right over at the waist and his arms wrapped around your pillow to smother his face in it. He moaned more freely that way and you wished you had a mirror in front of him so you could see the way his eyes rolled at how deep you got. 

“Who’s my good boy?” you asked sternly. 

“I am.” George answered shakily, words muffled by the pillow, “I’m your good boy.” 

You held him there by the back of his neck, spanking his ass with your other hand again. The headboard was hitting the wall loud enough that you might have wanted to be worried if your neighbours could hear but your only priority in that moment was to make the man who had your heart cum completely hands free. 

His biceps were massive like that, only flexed more with how he gripped the pillow in his arms so tightly, tensing his entire body so much so that you could feel him getting tighter around the strap that pounded away inside him. You spanked him again just to spur on more of those angelic whimpers that he muffled into your pillow and his knees pressed harder into the mattress to try and escape your overwhelming gift. You only made you grab his balls again in a snug grasp, keeping him in place with a squealing whine out of his throat until he suddenly went silent. His right hand flew out from under the pillow and he slammed it hard against the headboard, wrapping his slender fingers around the white wood until his knuckles nearly blended into the paint colour. 

“Cum for me.” you ordered, still fucking into him at that consistent pace, “Cum for me, angel.” 

George could barely breathe as he let out a strained “ohh-” into your pillow. He shuddered as he came, gaping into the silk pillowcase with the most erotic expression you wished he could have blessed you with a front row view of. His asshole gripped right up around the strap but you just grabbed his waist to help thrust into him steadily through it regardless, especially with how he trembled. 

“Good boy.” you praised richly, “Good boy, Georgie.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” George heaved for breath as he lifted his face out of your pillow and turned to his left to look in the full length mirror again, being met with his erotic pose and flushed tear streaked face. “Shit.” 

You rubbed your hands warmly over his back and left a gentle kiss to his spine before slowly pulling out of him. He audibly winced at the sudden emptiness and he carefully rolled over onto his back to rest against your pillows with his arms draped above his head, his chest rising and falling heavily. His legs were spread slightly and you were positioned between them still, earning the ethereal sight of him draped out naked and blissful on your bed with his skin blushed pink with arousal and streaks of creamy white scattered over his abs and down the shaft of his still-hard cock. That ring around the base was gripping him for dear life and you ran a gentle fingertip around it, watching how it made him flinch with a soft grunt. 

“Beautiful man.” you breathed, licking your lips as your eyes soaked him all in. 

George pushed a hand through his frazzled brown hair and offered you a weak smile in return. You reached for his shirt still tossed to the side of the bed and you used the fabric to wipe up the creamy white mess from his abs and around his dick all while he watched you intently, hands tucked behind his head. He then reached down and carefully slid the cockring off his softening dick with a heavy sigh, “I’m starving.” 

You chuckled lightly and gave his waist a squeeze, asking through your own breathlessness, “Me too. What are you feeling like? Pizza?” 

“Yeah, that sounds so fucking good right now.” he agreed easily. 

“Okay. I can order some.” you offered, “Do you wanna get cleaned up a little in the meantime?”

“Yeah.” George started to make a move to sit up and his light wince had you smiling and dusting a kiss to his shoulder. 

You watched him disappear into the bathroom, leaving you with the slippery cockring in hand to be in charge of washing up the toys while he washed up himself. First, you ordered the pizza so while it was being prepared, you had time to tidy up. You threw out the empty bottle of lube and dumped your now-warm unfinished drinks from the living room and began to scrub the used toys in the kitchen sink. Washed and dried, the purple dildo rested heavy in your hand and you couldn’t help but strap it back onto the harness, letting it dangle straight out, proudly, from your body as you muddled around your apartment in the nude to get things in order. There was some sense of pride and power about it. 

After growing familiar with each other, George felt perfectly comfortable showering at your place and he did so that late afternoon in the privacy of your bathroom. You listened to his muffled voice singing a little off-key in the shower and part of you ached to join him; lather him up in your body wash and feel every crevice of his body under the warm water. So you distracted yourself from your impossible thoughts by picking up his discarded clothes from your bedroom floor and you folded them, placing his phone on your bedside table for him to retrieve later. When you set it down, the wallpaper of his girlfriend stared back at you; some professional photoshoot she did from one of her modeling gigs. You stared at it blankly until his screen went black again. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening had you moving away from the presence of his phone and you looked over as he walked into your bedroom with your towel hanging low around his waist. He sent you a small smile which you returned and he slid past you, his eyes caught by the black leather harness and purple dildo that still sat pretty around your waist. His little smirk was unmissable and he grabbed his underwear from where you had folded it and placed it on top of your dresser. 

“Still wearing it?” he nodded towards the strap.

“Yeah.” you sat on the side of your bed, watching how the jelly dildo wobbled for a moment, and you replied to him, “Makes me feel all powerful.” 

“Try having a dick 24/7.” he teased as he dropped your towel to leave himself bare in the light of the sunset streaming in through your window. “No wonder why men think they can rule the world.” 

“I dunno…” you said, shamelessly watching him pull his underwear up his legs, “I can feel equally powerful as a woman sometimes too.”

“You are incredibly powerful,” George complimented before picking up your towel from the floor, “Sorry about using your towel, by the way. I was covered in lube and I seriously needed a shower.”

You shrugged, “No problem. What’s mine is yours.” 

He sent you a smile on his way back out of the bedroom and you watched him disappear towards the bathroom again. You pressed your fist against your chest for a moment with how strong and burning your heartbeat felt in moments like that where for a second it felt like a hint of domestic life with the man who had your heart and soul. 

Your phone rang to alert you that the pizza arrived and you let the delivery driver into the building so he could bring it to the door. When he knocked, George called out to you that he was going to answer it so you waited in your nakedness in the safety of your room. Seconds later, George joined you with the steaming pizza box in hand, still dressed in only his underwear, and you scooted backwards on your bed so he could join you. 

The two of you made a little pile of pillows against the headboard to rest against comfortably and you retrieved your laptop from under your bed so you could find something to watch on Netflix while you ate. You selected a choice together while George opened the pizza box and pulled his first slice from the pie, holding it carefully with both hands as he leaned back against your pillows. 

“I’ll pay you back for half.” he said through his first bite. 

“No, don’t be silly.” you replied without looking up from your screen, “My treat.”

“You sure?” he asked. “I don’t mind.” 

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, “You’re not paying for me to fuck you.” 

He scoffed, “Well don’t put it like that.” 

You pulled a smile and focused back on the Netflix home screen and your intentful scrolling, “Isn’t she going to wonder why you’re not home for dinner?”

George shrugged, “She’ll be out with friends anyway.” 

You didn’t answer. 

“Why?” he pressed. 

You shrugged and selected the next episode of the show you had started together before resting back against the pillows alongside him, “Just curious.” 

“Did you want me to go?” 

Your head whipped over to look at him quickly, “God, no. Not at all. I love it when you’re here.”

It was hard to hold back the strong emotion and adoration behind your words. George just met your smile for a beat before turning back to his pizza and the opening scene of the TV show. 

He shifted in place slightly and let out a little strained sigh, peaking your attention back over to him. He answered your silent inquiry with a light chuckle and a, “It kinda hurts to sit.”

You licked away a grin and served yourself a slice of pizza.

As the episode progressed and the pizza grew smaller as you ate, you found yourself naturally leaning towards each other on your bed until your heads were nearly resting together. You couldn’t help yourself but glance over at him discreetly, catching him watching the show so intently that his eyebrows had the slightest furrow to them. He looked so cute like that and you could have stared at him for hours with just as much interest as any TV show you played. You just craved him so strongly in every way possible. 

His low chuckle drew your attention to your laptop again, noting the steamy long-awaiting kiss shared between the two main characters behind the swell of emotional music. George tisked, “Took long enough.”

You couldn’t help yourself, “Too bad he hasn’t divorced his wife yet.”

George countered casually, “He’s creating a whole new church to do so, that’s how dedicated he is for this woman. Give the guy some time. You can’t create a whole new religion in an afternoon.” 

You wondered if your discreet meaning had just gone right over his head and you analyzed his face as he watched the progression of the scene at your side. Sensing your stare, he turned to look at you too. 

“What?” he asked. 

Your mind swirled with all sorts of sappy confessions of your undying love for him, but the only thing that made it past your brain’s filters was a messy unimportant discussion question of, “Do you think Henry VIII ever took it up the ass?”

George snorted, “Maybe.”

“Anne Boleyn here seems like a boss bitch, to be honest. I could see her pegging the king.”

“Would you?”

“Peg the king?” you raised an eyebrow in his direction.

George looked back at you, “Mhm?”

“Only if you were the king.”

His lips perked up at the corner in a cheeky little grin at your response and he reached over to grab the purple dildo that was still secured around your waist and he jokingly aimed to put you closer by it while his face leaned in towards yours. You gladly let him kiss you, feeling those same swells of emotion that had been encapsulated in the music of the scene you had been watching. Leaning into each other, you raised your hand up to slide around the side of his neck to keep his lips on yours as you shared slow passionate kisses that filled your insides with butterflies. 

You turned towards him a little more, determined to savour the feeling of his kisses as they were often few and far between - especially unwarranted like this - and yet they were your favourite part of your little situationship. You could taste the pizza on his tongue and the heat from the shower still lingering on his skin and although the scent of his cologne was now mostly replaced with the scent of your own body wash, it only made you realize how much better it smelt on him. You were completely enamoured with him. 

Greedily, your hand slid down his bare chest and around his waist, feeling the smoothness of his skin and the tension of his muscles with his body turned towards you the slightest amount. George was leaning back against the headboard and plentiful pillows comfortably, letting you lead your sloppy kisses that took precedence over the scene still playing on your laptop. He pulled away from you to kiss down your chest instead and his large hand guided one of your breasts to his mouth so he could take your nipple between his lips. You shifted beside him to give him a better angle and he tongued at your nipple and sucked on it until it was hard, humming pleasantly against your chest before pulling back with a wet pop. 

“Haven’t had enough, have you?” you breathed, sliding your hand into the back of his hair as he took your opposite nipple in his mouth for a quick suck and then he peppered impatient kisses up your neck.

“Mm mm.” he shook his head faintly and nipped at your earlobe to make you shiver. 

You pulled away from him for a moment just long enough to pause the episode and then close your laptop and set it and the pizza box back on the ground all while George adjusted himself with a giddy smile. When you turned back to him, your hand drifted up his leg and over the front of his snug briefs to rub the obvious shape of his cock hidden underneath while your lips moved in to meet his again. He moaned softly into your mouth at your teasing touches and right away was making a move to push his underwear down his legs. Permitting it, you let him drop them off the side of the bed before he was grabbing the strap again and pulling you closer by the harness. 

Your lips met again in messy tongue-led kisses and you wrapped your hand around his semi-soft dick to help him get harder, gently caressing the underside of the head with the pad of your thumb. He shuttered at your touch and held you close by the back of your neck, naturally spreading his legs wider for you. 

“Good boy.” you praised into his mouth between passionate kisses, “I’m gonna make you feel so good. Leave those pretty legs spread for me.” 

George licked his lips as you pulled away from him and he bent his legs up and spread them wider on your bed while he watched you shift over to your bedside table and grab the bottle of lube again and something from your drawer. You set the clean prostate vibrator between your lips while you popped the cap on the bottle of lube and squirted some onto your fingers under the impatient eye of the man with you. He stroked himself lazily and you offered him a generous squirt onto the head of his cock to help him out…his gentle hum was thanks enough. 

You then smeared your fingers around his asshole, reapplying the lube that had been washed away in the shower, and he winced faintly at the feeling of your warm touch against his sensitive muscle. It was still slightly gaping from your previous fucking and you only slid the tips of two fingers inside just to make sure he was lubricated sufficiently. George’s soft whine was impatient and angelic and you pulled the silicone vibrator from your mouth with your free hand so you could lean down and capture his lips in a kiss instead. He reached for you adoringly, still stroking his dick as he held your lips on his with his other hand, kissing you like his life depended on it and it made you dizzy with lust. You wanted him forever. 

After a few moments, you pulled away from his lips to focus on your goal. With another pump of lube to the end of the vibrator, you smeared it in enough to cover the ribbed shaft and then angled it carefully against his glistening hole. George shifted a bit farther down against the pillows and spread his legs a little wider, watching with his bottom lip between his teeth as you slowly eased the toy inside him. His muscles hugged the silicone erotically, stretching over each ridge and curve until it was tucked securely in place. The flared base had a short arm that reached along the length of his perineum and nestled right behind his balls so when you turned it on, the steady vibrations covered him completely. 

George’s face literally withered in pleasure, eyes rolling and mouth falling agape, and he stared up at you with that lustful expression that had your insides fluttering at the mere sight of him. Your one finger rested against the base to make sure the vibrator was secure in place, watching his physical reaction from your position on your knees between his spread legs. 

“How's that?” you asked. 

“Intense,” George exhaled, “Good.” 

Glancing down to his hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, you stated, “You’re getting really hard.” 

As if that were a reminder, George gave himself a few lazy pumps, “Yeah.” 

You licked your lips, staring at his dick shamelessly as you held the vibrator in place, going completely heart eyes over the sight of how big it was in his large hand, glistening in lube and already pearling precum from the swollen head. With a nudge to his wrist, you got him to let go so you could have a clear view of his entire cock and how thick and heavy it looked, angled right up against his abdomen. You just wanted it so badly. Honestly, you could have cried. 

George squirmed slightly from the vibrations inside him and you gave his dick a little pet with the palm of your hand, earning a soft moan from his chest. The pad of your index finger rubbed taunting just under the head in that sensitive spot and his dick flinched naturally from your feather soft touches. 

“I want you inside me.” you breathed. 

George hummed tightly, answering just as quietly with a blissful waver to his voice, “We can’t.” 

“Why not?” you pressed. 

“You know why not. I can’t risk anything.” 

“She won’t know.” 

“She might.”

Still gently rubbing his cock with your fingertips, you pressed the button at the bottom of the vibrator with your other hands, making it increase in intensity. George’s head dropped back against the pillows with a tight groan, his legs trying to curl up towards his chest if it weren’t for you sitting pretty between them. 

You weren't done trying, letting your feelings for him cloud your judgement and the unwritten rules of your pre-agreed upon situationship. “What’s she gonna do? Whine to her friends because she can’t satisfy her boyfriend so he found someone who could?” 

George groaned your name through a sigh. 

“What?” you answered innocently, loving the way he writhed against your bed just to feel more of those vibrations in all the right places. You had him right where you wanted him, under your complete control, and maybe you got too into that, taking his moment of submission to get a step above him, “Bet she doesn’t even know how to treat you…how to really take dick. She probably just lays there.” 

He repeated your name firmly as if trying to get you to stop but his tone sounded much more pleasurable than annoyed thanks to the toy tucked inside him. 

Your finger trailed down the length of his dick slowly, taunting him, “I’m right here, I could just sink down on your big thick cock so easily.”

He whimpered your name again, sinking his nails into your thighs faintly with his legs spread wide on either side of you. 

“Your poor dick just wants some attention, look at him, he’s so swollen and angry.” you pouted innocently as you wrapped your hand around it to lift it up off his abdomen and gave him a few faint strokes. “So yummy.” 

He groaned your name shakily once more. 

You stroked his dick slowly and tauntingly, drifting your gaze up to his face again to note how his expression withered from the vibrator still buzzing away inside him, his cheeks pink and eyebrows furrowed prettily. With a sultry smile, you asked him, “Doesn’t my pretty angel want to know what a good pussy can feel like?”

“Ohh-“ George whined, staring right back at you from where he was draped against your bed and plentiful pillows. 

“My perfect boy deserves a real woman. Gotta know what one feels like at least once in your life.” 

“Mm-“ George’s hips ground upwards and in doing so he thrusted into your hand the slightest bit. He grabbed your thighs tighter, especially as your hand started to twist your motions over the thick shaft of his cock. His eyes were a little glassy with lust and he kept licking and biting his lips impatiently for more of that addictive pleasure. 

“Don’t you wanna feel how tight and warm my pussy is for you?” you asked softly, pulling his hand between your legs and under the purple dildo and leather harness so his fingers grazed over your wet folds, “I’ll let you fuck me raw so you can feel every little inch of it. All for you.”

“Oh my God.” George breathed shakily, his voice trembling, “You’re so wet.”

“Thanks to you.” you replied smoothly. “You wanna feel it? Want me to sink down on this perfect fucking cock of yours so you can get a taste of what a real woman can do?” 

George literally whimpered at the mere thought, trying to keep himself composed despite the intense vibrations that were still sending warm shockwaves through his body. He gaped up at you behind furrowed brows, digging his heels into the mattress to try and work through the pleasure that was building inside him. Still stroking his cock with one hand while the other forced him to get a feel of how soaked and ready you were for him, you didn’t let up no matter how much he groaned and squirmed, even when he reached his free hand to try and grab your wrist to slow you down. 

“Answer me.” you ordered, stroking his cock faster. “Yes or no? Do you want my pussy?”

“Yes.” George squeaked, “Yes, mommy, please, I want it.” 

You shoved his hands away from your body completely and he held them obediently in mid-air as you tossed one leg over his lap and then his other and he watched you with wide eyes, grinding down against the bed as the vibrator hit all the right spots. With a gentle slap to his cheek, you then shoved two fingers in his mouth past his parted lips and he gagged around them slightly but didn’t protest. 

“That’s my good fucking boy.” you praised through your teeth. “Letting me use you like my little toy, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am.” George spoke through your fingers and his hands took to your hips, his once obvious hesitation was replaced with horny impatience as he tried to pull you down on him. 

“Such an impatient little slut.” you tisked. “Hold your dick for me and beg for it.”

George reached down to grab hold of his cock and he angled it up for you as you hovered above him at just a distance for him to graze the head between your slick lips. It was hard to stay focused with the vibrator still buzzing inside him but he kept wanting more, more, more…so he obeyed you, speaking his desires through your fingers still in his mouth, “Please, miss, I want your pussy. I want your perfect little pussy on my dick so fucking bad. Let me be your toy…wanna be a good boy for you.” 

The moment you sank down enough to let the head of his cock slip inside the tight confines of your cunt, his eyes literally rolled. He moaned heavenly through your bedroom, drooling around your fingers, and he grabbed your waist to try to slow you down. But you were a woman on a mission after having waited so long for that exact moment that you didn’t have an ounce of patience. He was so big that the stretch ached between your legs and over your hips and you had to pull your fingers from his mouth to set your hands down flat against his shoulders to support yourself through it, digging your nails into his toned skin. 

“Oh my fucking God.” George whimpered, peering down his naked body to watch how his dick disappeared inside you, “You’re so fucking tight.”

“What do you say?” you asked sternly as your ass met his thighs and you were stuffed full of him, pinching his cheeks in your hand.

“Thank you, miss.” George responded shakily. 

Drunk on your unbelievable ability to convince him to engage in such adulterous acts, you used the leverage from his shoulders to start to bounce on his lap. His hands found your waist again with a tight groan that fell from his chest and his face screwed up in ecstasy. 

“Thank you.” he repeated, strained and pretty. 

With the harness still strapped securely around your hips, the firm jelly dildo bounced in the air in time with your motions and the clap of your skin against his was arguably the best thing you had ever heard. You swore you could feel the reverberations of the vibrator up through his balls and cock and deep into your cunt but maybe that was just you trembling with adrenaline and lust, overwhelmed with the reality of your situation. He was so big inside you and the balance between that and the relief of finally getting what you wanted brought honest tears to your eyes.

He sounded even better when you rode him than when you pegged him: a beautiful symphony of lustful groans and adoring whimpers and intense breaths that only showed your hold over him if nothing else. 

He was a mess of ‘oh my God’ and intelligible sounds that had your pussy gripping tighter around him naturally, forcing his head to toss back against the pillows as he gripped your hips pleadingly and dug his nails right into your skin. The sharp pinch of his grip only spurred you on, desperate to make him completely lose himself to you like he never had before. It seemed to be working too because soon he was growing quieter and his face was spread with ecstasy, barely able to keep his eyes open, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” he whimpered. 

“Already?” you taunted, sliding a hand around his throat to pin his head down against the pillows to choke him a little, keeping up your dizzying bounces, “Filthy boy. Wanna cum inside me?”

“Oh, God, yeah, can I?” he withered as if he had been hoping for it but afraid to ask. 

“Of course, baby boy. I’d love for you to cum in me.” you cooed, “Show me who I belong to. Fill me up.”

George’s hands on your hips yanked you right down on him and held you there, his biceps bulging as he held you against your attempt to keep going but he certainly was stronger than you. With a trembling moan and eyes rolling with pure euphoria, George ground up against you slightly to cum as deep as he could into your dripping cunt. His entire body shuttered and the shower of moans and gasps that spilled from his lips was intoxicating to you. 

“Good boy.” you praised him loudly through his orgasm, unable to hide the beaming grin that spread across your face at the feeling of the first spurt releasing inside you, “Good fucking boy, gimme all that cum. Every last fucking drop is mine.”

“Yes, mommy.” George whimpered tightly, “It’s yours.” 

The buzzing toy was still tucked inside him and, now incredibly sensitive, George winced intensely at the sensation. You reached behind you to get between his legs and turn it up one more notch. 

“Oh shit!” George squealed out, trying to push you off of him as he writhed against your bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

“Is that too much?” you taunted. 

“Please, miss, I can’t take it!” George stumbled out, how voice wavering and stumbling over his words, falling into a pathetic mess of whimpers and cries. 

“Oh, my pretty angel can’t take all this pleasure, hm?” you lifted up from his lap, letting his dick slip out of you and fall against his thigh, glistening in white cream and your own arousal, and you grabbed his hand to force him to touch you. Your body dripped his cum right back out and onto his fingers and then you wrapped his hand around the dildo still strapped to your body to start to slick it up in his own natural lubrication. 

“I can’t.” George panted through a tight groan, “I fucking can’t, baby.”

You slid off his lap and back between his spread and trembling legs and you grabbed his thigh to flip him over onto his stomach. He moved for you like he weighed nothing, perfectly content in doing whatever you wanted of him even when it felt like so much that he was close to tears. Laying flat on your bed, George ground against your mattress as his arms encircled your pillow again, smothering his moans into the fabric as his legs trembled. You spared him with a click of the vibrator to turn it off and he was gasping with relief to the walls of your bedroom, heaving for air. But you worked quickly to slide the toy out of his ass and barely gave him a second to process the sudden emptiness before you were stuffing him with the strap again. 

George literally mewled at the feeling.

With your legs straddling his, he was kept nice and tight and right away you were starting to thrust into him messily. He whimpered generously and you leaned down over top of him to grab his wrists and pull them out from under your pillow so you could pin them down on top instead, holding him down while your hips shoved roughly against his ass in rhythmic strokes. 

“Oh God.” George whined loudly, bunching his hands into fists from where you had them held. 

The dildo was lubed up in his own cum and you fucked it back into him roughly in long deep strokes that had his eyes fluttering shut in filthy bliss as you fucked the moans from his chest. You were going so hard with it that the bed was starting to hit the wall in time with your thrusts and George’s moans were only getting louder and tighter. 

“Who do you belong to?” you asked strongly, biting your lip at the feeling of his cum leaking back out of you and down your inner thighs. 

“You, mommy.” he answered easily. “I belong to you!”

“That’s right.” you spoke down to him, your voice laced with taunting lust. “That means I can show up to your house in the middle of the night and rip your fucking clothes off and fuck you any time I want, isn’t that right?”

“Fuck.” George groaned pitchily at the threat, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Yeah?” you spoke through your teeth and gripped his wrists tighter, really forcing yourself to fuck him harder with precise curls of your hips in time with each hard jab, “My little slut just wants me to use him whenever I want?”

George cried out shakily, barely getting out an “uh huh” without his voice breaking. His eyes couldn’t stay open and part of you wished you could have a better angle to see his face as you fucked him flat into your bed. He only got louder and although he tried to smother his noises into your pillow, his pleasure was obvious.

“Jesus Christ—” George sobbed out, “You’re hitting my fucking prostate dead fucking on, baby…shit!”

“That’s my good boy.” you smirked to yourself proudly, “Give into it for me. I want you to cum again.” 

George’s large hands flexed stiffly from where you had his wrists pinned down, his fingers stretching out like starfish in need of something to grip onto. 

“Come on, angel, you got one more in you, I know it.” you encouraged, “Show me who really owns you.”

“You.” George choked, quickly followed by some incomprehensible noise that might have sounded to your neighbours like he was in pain but you knew—better than anyone—that it stemmed from nothing but pure, raw, overstimulated pleasure. You had been the only one to ever make him make noises like that after all. He rushed out some incomprehensible sentence in which the only word you could make out was ‘cum’ and then seconds later he was tensing right up around the strap and falling perfectly silent. 

“Good boy.” you praised strongly as he rutted himself against your bed desperately, undoubtedly ruining your sheets in yet another round of cum but you certainly didn’t mind. 

George was gasping and writhing underneath you as you slowed down so as to not overwhelm him too much. It was that balance of pleasure and pain he liked but you never wanted to overstep any possible boundaries. This was close, however. 

You leaned down to kiss his neck and his shoulder and you let his wrists go so you could sit back on your knees and then slowly pull out of him for the last time that evening. His little hum when you left him empty had you caressing his ass tenderly and you kissed the bottom of his spine comfortingly. 

“Such a good boy for me.” you whispered, running your hands up and down his back lovingly to help ease him out of that intense session, “How was that?”

“Crazy.” George exhaled and then let out a tired laugh, “Fuck.”

“Done for today?” you asked. 

He made a move to roll over so you shifted off of him to let him but he grabbed your arm so you couldn’t go far, making one simple request with a tug of the harness around your waist, “Take this off. I want you to sit on my face.”

Your eyes widened in surprise but you didn’t question it, hurriedly unbuckling the leather harness to drop it and the attached dildo to the floor as George scooted farther down your bed on his back, giving you room to soon toss a leg over his head. 

“You sure this is okay?” you asked quietly. 

He was still breathless from your very eventful afternoon but he nodded and grabbed your thighs to guide you down onto his mouth, promising, “Very.”

His eager tongue met the soft skin of your inner thighs first and he licked up the droplets of his own cum that were leaking down, adding open mouthed kisses to the mix just to have you shuttering at the teasing touches of his mouth. He brushed his nose over your pussy first and then guided you a little closer to glide his tongue right between your folds, ending with a little suckle to your clit. You were well past turned on after a full afternoon of pleasing him and ignoring your own ache that he barely had to touch you and you were already so responsive - not to mention that this was the first day he had ever touched you like this. Usually it was always all about him. 

Your hands grasped the headboard with a shaky sigh, almost afraid to look at him as you chose to stare at the wall in front of you instead. George’s tongue helped itself to your body and he started to eat you out sloppily, right away encouraging you to start to rock against his mouth slightly. He moaned against you and pressed his fingers into the flesh of your thighs a little tighter to settle you farther down on his face. You were nervous that you were going to hurt him if you put too much weight on his head but he didn’t seem to care. He seemed insistent that he be taken up entirely by you and your body. 

“Fuck.” George had to pull back to breathe for a second, still breathless from his catered evening, and he kissed your thighs again before speaking up to you, “You still taste so fucking good—maybe even better—with my cum dripping out of you.” 

“Holy shit.” you withered. You could dish the dirty talk but taking it was new and it turned you into a flustered mess. You had only imagined him saying such things to you that now, having it as reality, felt so surreal. 

You finally permitted yourself to look down at him between your legs as he returned his mouth to your pussy, swearing your eyes molded into the shape of hearts at the sight of his big blue eyes staring right back up at you. The very same eyes you fell a little too hard for. It made your stomach erupt in nauseating butterflies and your hand dropped to his soft hair. 

“Oh my God, George.” you moaned greedily, grinding on his face slightly and your hand in his hair aimed to pull him closer. 

He took your hint and tugged you right down on his mouth, nearly smothering himself in your cunt as he ate you out so heavenly and stared right up into your eyes above him. You couldn’t help the moans that tumbled from your lips, slivers tearing up your spine as you felt that unmissable warmth coiling inside you. It had barely been a minute and you were already so close—all too aroused by him and his perfect body to need any further edging. 

The moment that wave of pleasure tore through you, you dropped your second hand from the headboard to grab his hair too, crying his name out perfectly to the walls of your bedroom that wasn’t unlike those nights you found yourself alone. Now, however, he was there to be blessed by the sound of your voice crying out for him lustfully. Oh God, it made his heart race. He knew he was fucked from that moment on. Metaphorically. You had already covered the physically well before. 

When you finally rolled off of him and slumped backwards against the pillow lined headboard yourself, you were breathing heavily right alongside him, letting the silence of your apartment linger between you. Although your curtains were still open, the sun had long since set and you were restored to the faint light of your bedside table lamp, the darkness of the rest of your apartment leaking through your half closed bedroom door. Neither you nor George really knew what to say after all of that. 

Instead of talking about the lines you crossed, you returned to hostess mode, looking over at him laying flat beside you to ask, “Did you need a towel or something? Water?”

He cracked a small smile at your generosity and he looked up at you in return, his hands resting on his bare chest, “Water would be great. I can just use my shirt you apparently claimed as a cum rag earlier to clean myself up.”

“Sorry.” you chuckled. 

He just gave you a little wink as you slunk off the bed to help yourself to the kitchen. You walked through your modest apartment comfortably in the nude and navigated the kitchen by the light of the city lights leaking through the balcony doors in the adjacent living room. When you returned to your bedroom with two glasses of water, George was already back in his underwear and getting himself under the sheets of your bed. 

“What are you doing?” you asked teasingly as you passed him his glass. 

He thanked you before answering, “I wanna cuddle.” 

You would never say no to that. 

“Let me pee and wash the toys and then I’ll come back.” you said. 

“No,” George pouted and reached for you, linking his finger in yours, “Wash the toys in the morning.”

“Okay.” you didn’t need convincing. You leaned in to kiss his nose and then hurried out of the room to the washroom. 

It didn’t take you very long—mostly because you had the boy who had your heart waiting for you in your bed—and soon you were back in your room and pulling on a pair of underwear and stepping over the plentiful used toys that littered the floor before returning to him. George’s water glass was empty but before you could ask if he wanted more, he was holding up your blankets to welcome you in without a complaint. Smiling, you nestled yourself into bed with him and he wrapped you up in his arms. 

Cuddling after hooking up wasn’t new to either of you but it felt heavier this time…like it carried a weight that neither of you could quite place. With your head on his chest, you listened to his strong heartbeat and caressed your thumb over the smooth skin of his waist, holding him close for as long as you were able. 

George interrupted your quiet moment with a stroke of your hair and a quiet, “So…remind me to buy you a new duvet.” 

“Why?” you asked. 

He reached down to pick up the fabric a bit farther down between thumb and forefinger, showing off the messy white stain on the royal blue material, “I kinda…came on it.” 

You snorted and just cuddled closer to him, “That’s okay.”

“It’s okay that you have my cum stain on your bed for all eternity?” 

“Yeah.” you giggled tiredly, “Reminds me of you. And how I am the only one who can make you cry from pleasure.”

“Oh psh,” George scoffed, “I did not cry.”

“Almost.”

“Almost.” 

Under the blankets, you draped one of your legs over his as if needing to feel him as close as possible, making sure he wasn’t going to leave just yet. He had someone to go home to but once he walked out your door, you would be terribly alone. You hated when he left.

A few quiet minutes passed as you both just appreciated the silence and the comfort of each other to ease you out of your tiring afternoon. It was arguably your favourite part of your situationship because it was the time when you could close your eyes and pretend that what you had was real and not just meaningless sex. Even still, despite the selfishness that filled your heart, you knew the real divide of right and wrong. 

“You can’t fall asleep here.” you whispered into the dark room. 

George sighed softly, confessing sleepily against your hair, “I don’t wanna go.” 

“I don’t want you to go either.” you replied. 

“Let me just stay for a few more minutes?”

You leaned your head back against his shoulder to dust a kiss to his jawline, replying easily with a gentle, “Okay.”

Those few more minutes turned into a few more hours and soon you were blinking awake to the bright light of the morning seeping in through the edges of your curtains, not remembering how or when you actually fell asleep. The first thing that you processed was the weight around your middle and the breath against your back and your heart dropped at the realization that George had fallen asleep in your bed and thus never went home to his girlfriend. Your immediate heart drop stemmed from your instinctual compassionate nature but once your heart took over from your brain, you were filled with a little giddy warmth of realization. He had stayed the night…and he had cuddled you all night. 

Even now, with the rise of the sun and the start of a new day, he was spooning you closely and honestly taking up more than half of your bed as if he had chased you to find your body against his again. It was the most glorious feeling to wake up next to him and you truly wished you could have stayed there forever. He was yours in that moment. That’s how you wanted it to stay. 

You lingered there for a little while longer, drifting in and out of a light sleep,  before you had to get up. Logically, you knew it would make the most sense to wake him up but, selfishly, you didn’t want to. You wanted him to stay as long as possible. So you carefully slid out of his arms in exchange for one of your pillows for him to cuddle and he barely stirred at the change, merely sighing in his sleep and tugging the pillow closer. He looked so pretty in the faint morning light and you couldn’t help but brush a hand through his hair and leave a gentle kiss to his head. 

The illumination of his phone screen from the opposite side of your bed curiously drew you over and you peeked at his notifications, seeing dozens of missed calls and double that of text messages from his girlfriend. You silently flipped his phone face down and then slunk out of the room, grabbing your robe before closing the door almost all the way behind you.

You busied yourself with making breakfast, choosing pancakes with fresh fruit to really treat him for the morning after…and also knowing he was going into a long day ahead with his accidental sleepover from last night going to bite him in the butt when he returned home. Part of you wished you could be a fly on the wall for that anticipated fight but at the same time, you were glad to stay away. 

It must have been the smell of breakfast that finally lured George out of bed and into the kitchen and he came out of your room with a panicked expression on his face as he buckled up his jeans in a half hurry. 

“I fell asleep,” he stated the obvious.

“We both did apparently.” you replied, tending to the fresh batch of pancakes sizzling in the pan on the stove. 

“I’m actually fucked. What am I supposed to tell her?” 

There was obvious stress in his voice and you couldn’t help the slight ache in your heart from seeing where his priorities lay. There you were, making him breakfast after a passionate afternoon and evening the night before and the first thing he could say to you was in concern about his girlfriend. You shouldn’t have suspected any differently…you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. 

The question was more rhetorical than anything and George hurried past the kitchen to the bathroom to freshen up quickly. You swallowed back your tears and turned off the stove, dumping the last of the pancakes onto the serving plate, leaving the rest of the uncooked batter to thicken and be forgotten about on the counter. Just in the way you felt forgotten by him. 

When he emerged from the bathroom, he was making a beeline for your bedroom again to finish getting dressed, not even sparing you a glance on his way. Every little reminder that you were his second choice no matter the magic that you thought you shared the day before nearly killed you. You stayed in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter and trying to ignore the flashbacks from the previous afternoon as you stared at the spot where he had begged you to fuck him, how he promised you through his bliss that you were all that mattered to him. Lust made people say ridiculous things. 

George returned to the kitchen, completely dressed with his ruined shirt in hand, “Can I borrow a shirt to wear home?”

You lingered in place, knowing that if you made any move to talk or even take a step, you might have cried. The stress on George’s face faltered into more of a worry as he stared at your flushed expression and sad eyes. 

He took a step towards you, “Are you okay?”

You took a small breath and then spoke, “I…made you pancakes.”

His expression softened in realization of his own edge that morning and he walked over to you with a sigh, setting his soiled shirt on the island so he could have both hands free to gently take your wrists, “I’m sorry.”

You stared at his bare chest, not wanting to look him in the eye. 

“Hey,” George slid his hands up your arms and gave your biceps a little squeeze, leaning his head down slightly to try and get into your line of vision, “what’s wrong?”

You sniffled and looked to the side, your voice flat, “Nothing. I can wrap up some pancakes for you to eat on the drive home if you want.”

When you tried to slip out of his grasp, he wrapped an arm around your middle to stop you from walking away. 

“Talk to me. What’s got you all upset? Did I do something?” 

His voice was so soft and gentle and it ripped at your heartstrings with each syllable and you scrunched your eyes shut to try and keep yourself composed. George’s hand rubbed tenderly over your arm, staring at you so insistently with this concern in his gaze that you almost believed. 

“You have to go.” you said as strongly as you could muster. “She’s waiting for you. She’s probably pissed off and waiting for you and you don’t want to keep her waiting any longer than she already has been.” 

“I’m not going until I know you’re okay.”

You took a sharp inhale of breath and finally looked at him for a split second before speaking down to his chest again, “I’m not okay…with any of this.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “With what? Us?”

“With…you.” you mumbled. “With you and her.” 

George just blinked at you for a moment as if he were completely clueless. You thought he was the stupidest man on Earth to have not realized how madly in love with him you were. 

You continued, “I’m never going to be okay with it but it’s just something I’ve had to suck up and deal with so please can you just take a shirt from my closet and your damn pancakes and leave?”

“I don’t want to leave it like this.” George said seriously. 

“Well I dunno what to tell you.” you said tightly, “I just…don’t want to have this conversation right now.”

George stared at you for a beat and when it was realized that you weren’t going to look at him, he took a small step back with a light nod. He hesitated in front of you but then walked around the island and back to your room to find himself a shirt. It made it feel like it was meant to be only more and more knowing you were the same size in height and general build. You swore he was your other half, especially with everything he would tell you between the sheets…only to return to his girlfriend by the end of the night. 

He emerged from your room again wearing an oversized concert shirt from your closet—one of the few shirts in your closet that wouldn’t look solely like it was a woman’s—and you couldn’t help yourself but eye him longingly. He looked so good in your clothes…in your bed…in your apartment. God, you swore he was meant to be yours. The world was unfair. 

You turned away from him to grab a Ziploc bag from the cupboard and you tossed three pancakes into it and zipped it up. He watched you silently and when you held out the baggie to him across the island, he instead walked around it and took it from your hand right beside you. You didn’t look at him. 

“You mean the world to me.” he whispered to you, gently brushing your hair out of your face so he could see you the best he could. “I don’t want to just not see you again. Can we talk later? And fix this?”

You nodded faintly. 

“Okay.” he leaned in to kiss your cheek. 

With a gentle finger, he rested it against your opposite cheek to try and turn your head towards him. You barely offered him a 45° turn with your eyes still downcast but, regardless, he pressed a feather soft kiss to your lips. 

“Don’t give up on me yet, please?” he spoke softly, resting his forehead against the side of your head, “I need you.” 

You raised a hand up to slide your fingers through his soft hair at the nape of his neck, holding him there for a few more moments before you would let him slip away and into the arms of someone who didn’t deserve him. 

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[the-eb]

new "things I noticed in the Walpurgisnacht Rising trailer" post: coherent edition

I'm going with the theory (laid out very well here) that the extra Homuras we keep seeing around are the Clara Dolls, either presenting in a different way or having matured into witches themselves. With that in mind:

These two shots show the same doll, Nekura, judging by both the headband and the wavy tips of the hair that homura doesn't normally have. Her eyes are also red, and she's wearing the black collar with white outlines reminiscent of her Doll form.

This looks to be Ibari, though I'm not 100% sure on that, given the colour of the hair. Probably just the lighting. Her role as Pride also fits with the imagery of her scrutinising the audience here, likely Homura in context.

Could also potentially be Noroma (Blockhead), though I don't think the visual fits quite as well. She is said to "laugh at the witch with her eyes," though, which would match with what she's doing here.

Though this Homura has her original purple eyes and white collar, the unusual headband and especially the engraving on the mirror ("Stupid Venus") make me quite confident that this is Manuke (Stupid-Looking). The band isn't a 100% match, but this also makes sense given that Manuke is representative of Homura during the time between the main series and Rebellion, matching with what's shown in the mirror. The headband is also tied in the same way as Madoka's ribbon was in her hair, which might explain the lack of resemblance to Manuke's headwear.

Not much to say about this shot, other than that the style and colours of those stairs combined with the familiar pattern around them resembling Oktavia's tail make me think this is a shot from within her labyrinth.

Other than the clear Icarus symbolism, the main thing worth noting about this shot is the streak of red in Homura's hair, extending out from underneath Madoka's ribbon (or its replacement). Probably an extension of the ribbon symbolically too, showing how bound she is to Madoka.

Unless these are Magia Record characters I'm unaware of, I think that the unadorned ring and black fingernail marking lend credence to the idea that these are the magical girls who once became witches in the original series. The only one I really have a guess on is this girl, where the fact that she's watching over a kintsugi glass holding the garden where Homura and Kyoko met in rebellion, the roses on her purse, and the glasses lead me to believe that this is Gertrud, the Rose Garden Witch. Her Adelbert familiars are said to have 2.5 vision.

This book appears to contain images of witches and their familiars. I managed to spot familiars belonging to Charlotte, Elly, possibly Patricia, Gertrud, and Oktavia, as well as Izabel and Elsa Maria themselves, though I'm sure there are more.

There's a single frame flash of Oktavia here!

The symbolism of the teacup next to the pool of blood makes me assume that this is Mami (or Candeloro!), though maybe I'm flanderising her. The rim of the cup and saucer do have a pattern faintly reminiscent of a flower, which reinforces this a little.

Please feel free to respond with alternate readings/other things you've spotted in the trailer! I crave knowledge

[ponchigg]

The Scientific Side of Shifting

The theory of the Multiverse: What is Shifting based onto?

The multiverse theory suggests that our universe is not the only one. Instead, there may be many, perhaps an infinite number of universes that exist parallel to each other. These universes collectively are referred to as the multiverse. There are several interpretations of the multiverse theory, such as the Bubble Universes (proposed by Alan Guth), The Mathematical Universes (proposed by Max Tegmark), The String Theory, and much more..but our focus today will be the Many-Worlds Interpretation (Quantum Mechanics), as it’s the one who makes more sense when it comes to Quantum Jumping.

The Many-Worlds Interpretation explained.

Proposed by Hugh Everett, this interpretation suggests that all possible outcomes of quantum measurements actually occur in some "branch" of the universe. Every decision or random event splits the universe into different paths, leading to a potentially infinite number of parallel universes. For example, if you make a decision to go left or right, both outcomes happen, but in separate, branching universes.

What’s Quantum Jumping?

The Metaphysical Quantum Jumping interpretation refers to the idea that individuals can "jump" to alternate realities or different versions of their lives by aligning their thoughts and intentions. Those who advocate for this theory believe that by changing one's mindset, focus, and energy, a person can shift into a parallel universe where their desires and goals have already been achieved.

Does it sound familiar? Shifting is just Quantum Jumping in other words. Though Shifters are usually more focused on the spiritual side of Shifting, I wanted to share this for those that didn’t know yet that yes, shifting has its scientific roots. I do recommend making your own research, as this is a quite difficult topic and I didn’t want to make this post too extensive.

[sorrelchestnut]

I've seen a fair number of posts both here and on reddit that question why Tav (or the Dark Urge) would end up as a group leader for any other reason that "game mechanics say so." There's the requisite "okay, well if you play a high charisma character I guess it makes sense," or on the other end of the spectrum, "if you're playing Durge and murder someone right off the bat everyone would be too scared to tell you no." And I get where people are going with this! I really do. But it also fundamentally misunderstands a facet of human nature, which is that the vast majority of people do not actually want to be in charge, because that means being held responsible for the outcome. Accordingly, most people will dither when a group consensus is needed: have none of you ever tried to get a group of friends to agree where to go for dinner? Yeah, it's like that, but waaaay worse.

A lot of times "leadership" is just the willingness to say, "fuck it, y'all do what you want, but I'm doing this." I see it all the time in a corporate environment, where people will go back and forth on group meetings without anyone making a decision until finally one brave soul goes "in my opinion the clear answer is x" and then everyone gratefully goes along with it. Because now it's not their responsibility when something goes wrong! They're just following along with someone else's suggestion, and maybe it works or maybe it doesn't, but at the end of the day they don't have to worry about the consequences unless they're personally affected. In which case they might step up and argue back, and then they're stuck being a leader, too. Welcome to adulthood!

Lae'zel is the only one who ever even tries to exert some kind of control, when she tells you to follow her lead on the ship, or calls you her subordinate in the Grove. But, crucially, she doesn't ever make any serious attempt to take control: you can just tell her, "lol, no," and she sort of confusedly gives way, because she doesn't know how to handle this scenario. In her world there are commanders and subordinates, and everyone knows where they stand and falls in line. She's never actually had to take control of a situation and so at the first sign of resistance she falls back on the dynamic that's familiar to her, which is executing the commands of someone older and more experienced. She goes through a lot of growth over the game, to the point that she can take over as a resistance leader in her own right by the end, but at the beginning she's a wet-behind-her-ears private with some decent combat chops and it shows.

Otherwise, your party consists of:

Shadowheart, who's trained in infiltration and assassination and does NOT want a lot of attention brought to her or her mission for a variety of reasons;

Astarion, who has literally been a slave for two centuries and canonically takes a while to realize that he can exert an opinion beyond complaining about it;

Gale, whose only friend is his cat and couldn't project-manage his way out of a wet paper bag;

Wyll, who was probably trained for command at one point but has been doing the lone-hero thing for a decade and has a very large secret that he's trying to conceal; and,

Karlach, who's only ever been a bodyguard and a soldier and is genuinely just happy to be here.

Honestly, it would be more a surprise if Tav/Durge didn't end up as their unofficial leader, given the general power dynamics at play. The first time Tav/Durge says something like, "fuck it, we need to do something instead of stand around arguing about it, let's go check out those ruins over there," it's a done deal. They're The Captain Now! As long as they don't make decisions that fundamentally oppose something dear and important to the other group members, they're not even going to get any argument. Because at the end of the day, not one of these walking disasters has enough trust in themselves and their decision-making skills to feel any kind of certainty that they can choose the right path forward. If someone else is going to take that decision out of their hands? They're going to follow, no questions asked, right up until the moment they can't.