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pprodsuga · 5 months

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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.

notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PARK JONGSEONG <3 33.7k words worth of things i want to say to him. also i'm mad that tumblr caps off at 1000 blocks and i had to change the ending...forgive me.

genre: lawyer au

warnings: nsfw and typos, probably. also the surname "kim" has importance. :)

p.s. this banner was made by the lovely and talented @alvojake, love u!!

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

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imfromthemiddlekingdom · 6 months

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I don’t understand the fandoms love for Daemon, by all rights he should be as hated as Joffrey was. Not only did he do almost everything Joffrey did, he also did worse. Even Tywin wouldn’t hold a candle to his cruelty. I understand liking a villainous character, I do too with Cersei and Tywin, but I’ve never went out of my way to whitewash their characters. I love them because they are villainous and practically irredeemable, if team black stans liked Daemon for his villainous actions before and during the Dance of Dragons I wouldn’t have any problems with it. But the fact that they go out of their way to defend him killing Rhea Royce because “he was forced into a marriage he didn’t like!!!!” As if she wasn’t too. And the fact that they defend him sending Blood and Cheese to psychologically torture Haelena and kill Jaehaerys due to “a son for a son it’s only right” when they despise Alicents moment of madness when her son was denied justice, makes me want to hurl.

It’s alright to like villainous characters, it doesn’t make you a bad person if you like them. But you know what makes you a moronic person? Whitewashing everything that makes a character compelling because you want to like them without seeming like a ‘bad person’. Your opinion on a character does not determine your own morality, it doesn’t make you better or worse than someone who hates them. But what it does, when you erase their entire identity as a rouge to make them more palatable to you, is make you seem moronic, stupid, and lacking any critical thinking and reading comprehension skills.

Rhaenyra is a compelling character because she is entitled and spoiled and lacks any political experience, she shows how badly Viserys fucked up when he tried to compensate for his guilt of murdering Aemma. Alicent is a compelling character because she is a mother who is trying her best to protect her children from the reality that if Daemon took the throne for Rhaenyra, he would kill all of them because they are a threat. She is even more of a compelling character in the books because of her ambition and cunning and want for her family to rise far above the ‘station’ of being a noble house in the Reach (as if house Hightower aren’t the oldest house in Westeros who could trace their lineage back to both the Garth Greenhand the high king of the first men and the Andal Kings that came afterwards). Daemon, for all that I dislike him as a character, is compelling for his ruthlessness and shortsightedness in his pursuit of the throne. He didn’t raise an army for Viserys because he thought he was a competent leader, he did it because it raised his own standing within Westeros, he groomed Rhaenyra not because he loved her, but because having him in her good graces means that he stood a better chance of being king after she was named heir. His ruthlessness is compelling. Taking it away to make him into a ‘malewife’ or a ‘loving father’ or a man who is lacking any ambition beyond wanting a valyrian wife is taking away his agency. It makes him seem like a Gary Sue who only wants the throne because his brother said Rhaenyra was heir. It makes it so that he is so completely white bread like that not even I, someone who loved the more morally bankrupt characters in ASOIAF can find him agreeable in any way shape or form.

Daemon is a fundamentally morally bankrupt character and he should stay that way. If you like him you should acknowledge and accept that he is one of the ‘bad guys’. Just as Cersei fans acknowledge and accept that she is fundamentally a morally bankrupt person who is selfish to the extreme. We like morally black characters because they are morally black. To make excuses for their actions is to take away their agency which makes them unlikable and very hate-able.

Daemons actions aren’t justifiable, blood and cheese would never be justified. A son for a son is akin to the visceral disgust the fandom had to Alicent when she asked for Lucerys’ eye, yet I bet when season two comes out and Blood and Cheese happens we’d see Daemon fans applauding and trying to justify it as ‘not that bad’ and ‘team green deserved it because of Aemond’s actions’ when little Jaehaerys, a boy of 6, was as far removed from the incident as can be. It would be akin to Team Green saying that due to Jaehaerys’ death, Aegon III or Viserys II deserved to have their head cut off in front of Rhaenyra.

Let morally bankrupt characters be morally bankrupt. You aren’t morally bankrupt because you like said character, it’s a fictional story loosely based on Empress Matilda. It’s not that deep. Like the characters you like without trying to justify their actions. They might be monstrous but you aren’t because you like them. It’s not a measure of your own character because you like said character. But it is a measure of your intelligence when you try to change said character’s entire personality to make it so that they are more digestible to you and everyone else.

#hotd #team green #anti daemon targaryen #blood and cheese #pro team green #cersei lannister #joffrey baratheon #jaehaera targaryen #like the characters you like without trying to whitewash them please and thank you #fire and blood #house of the dragon #anti team black stans #anti team black

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ironunderstands · 4 months

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Explaining why I think the notion that “Jade did nothing wrong and if you hate her then you are a misogynist” is incorrect

Disclaimer: I don’t actually hate Jade, I find her compelling because she seems like the first true villain we might get in the game, and her kit looks really fun, so for that I can respect her. However, to say that she did nothing wrong, or that the people who dislike her are somehow in the wrong or are misogynists is very stupid, which is why I would like to clear up this misconception.

Let’s start with the “she did nothing wrong part” because that’s straight up not true.

‼️This post will contain leaks of Jade’s eidolons and lc, it will also contain mentions of slavery and sexual violence so be careful‼️

I think the scene Jade fans go to point to when trying to argue that she does nothing wrong is the one that depicts her conversation with Aventurine. They state that she “saved him” and that the notions of her being a slave owner/having ties to slavery is incorrect.

However, at the very least the first part of this assumption is wrong, as in no way shape or form did she “save” Aventurine.

1.Aventurine saved himself.

He is the one who set up the scheme to get the IPC’s attention, he is the one who killed his master, and he is the one who fought for his freedom. Attributing his hard work to Jade’s “benevolence” erases that, and it pretends as if she’s the one who did all the work, when in reality Aventurine wouldn’t have even had a chance if he didn’t bet on himself.

2.What she offers Aventurine isn’t much better than what his life was before.

In a sense, Jade just gave Aventurine golden chains, and if she was really interested in saving him, there wouldn’t be a trial, and she would just let him go. “But the scam” the IPC has an uncountable amount of money, they literally control the currency in the galaxy, and are working on taking over the whole universe, a scam ran by one person on one planet will not damage them for long. What Aventurine did really only matters because the IPC made it matter, and even if Jade doesn’t have complete control over all the goings on on the IPC, if she could make it so Aventurine could join them, there’s really no reason she couldn’t just let him free without any strings attached (which is what a normal person would do in this situation, because, well, empathy).

She knows how bad his situation was, as she remarked on how he killed his master, and the average person would struggle to find fault in his behavior at all, let alone have there even be a debate of whether she should let him live or not.

Like, imagine yourself as Jade for a second, and you are sent to judge this kid (we don’t actually know how old Aven was in that scene, but I’d wager he was a late teenager/young adult) who just escaped slavery but also scammed the organization you are a part of, the organization that is what caused him to be enslaved in the first place (I’ll get into it*). At the very least, if you are like me, you would have a very hard time getting mad at this kid because well who wouldn’t do what he did in his circumstances. That’s why Jade still focusing on her self interests disgusts me and likely disgusts a lot of people who saw this scene, it’s not some equal transaction of sorts, she quite literally has his life on her hands and is toying with it to suit her own ends.

Now, this situation is complicated, as Aventurine does actually want to join the IPC, but only because he believed that would be the best way he could try and save any remains of his people, the Avgin. We know this for two reasons a) the IPC took everything from him, and he has absolutely no reason why he would want to work for them if they can’t offer him anything b) the first thing Aventurine asks Jade when he becomes a Stoneheart is what happened to the rest of the Avgin, meaning that was likely his goal from the start, as even before becoming enslaved Aventurine had a ton of expectations of being the one to save the Avgin.

However, from Jade’s perspective, likely

she doesn’t know any of this (unless she can read minds who knows), all she does know is that she holds a position of power over a very brave and intelligent person who owes a debt to the IPC for their crimes against it, and will die if she doesn’t save them. Therefore, she takes advantage of Aventurine’s inferior position, offering him a job not out of the kindness of her heart, but because she see’s his moneymaking potential and knows he can’t decline her offer, since his options are IPC or death.

This is textbook exploitation, and it honestly disgusts me when people try and paint their relationship to be a mother/son one, when she so clearly views him as nothing more than a tool to achieve her own ends. As someone else puts it, Jade cares for Aventurine like one might care for a gun/weapon, ie she finds it useful and would like it to not get destroyed, but ultimately it’s just a tool that can be replaced.

Aventurine’s banner name is called “Gilded Imprisonment” for a reason, and Jade offers him nothing more than shiny new chains.

*sidenote: the IPC aren’t just the ones who broke their promise to help the Avgin, they are also likely the ones who enslaved Aventurine. This is because as Kakavasha, he referred to them as “the men in black/the men in black suits”, aka the IPC. Which is why when first enslaver says he bought him from “the men in black”, he’s also likely referring to the IPC, considering that the exact same phrase in used, in fact, he’s probably mocking the way Aventurine referred to them due to how specific it is. So yeah, I don’t know why people pretend Aventurine is over what the IPC did to him, or even like they saved him, bro probably wants to kill all of them and I fully support him in this endeavor.*

Speaking of treating him like a tool

3. Dehumanizing Aventurine

Her first words to him in this scene are pointing out his biggest insecurity.

“What pretty eyes. Tell me, do they shine in the dark?”

Out of context this might not be bad, but oh my god is it horrific in context. The Avgin’s eyes aren’t just a defining feature of theirs, but something they have been sexualized and abused for. Sparkle in her conversation with Aventurine implies that Sigonian’s use their attractive features (including their distinctive eyes) to get people to let down there guard and trick people, and in the same breath she also implies he did that to convince Sunday as well. Aventurine also hides his eyes with his tinted glasses because people automatically judge/discriminate against him for it, so Jade continuing that pattern is gross in my opinion.

Let’s also not forget that Aventurine is Romani coded, and a large proportion of both enslaved Roma in the past and free Roma have experienced sexual violence, as well as being treated as exotic and having other fetishized stereotypes attached to them. Calling his eyes pretty isn’t just some compliment, it’s also an extension of that, especially considering that it’s heavily implied that Aventurine did experience sexual violence when he was enslaved.

This is what makes Jade IMMEDIATELY going to talking about his eyes creepy as hell to me, and something I dislike her for.

However, I don’t think she meant it in a sexual manner, rather I think she was trying to get a reaction out of him, as well as demonstrate her position of power over him, which is just, ugh. Like I’m sorry to say this, but if Aventurine was a woman and Jade was a man, Jade would never be beating the p3do allegations for this comment. What do you mean the first words you say to someone involve taunting them for a feature they get sexualized and mistreated over, someone that is likely a minor or a very young adult, someone that you hold a very clear position of power over. At the very nicest this is insensitive as hell for her to do, but considering she did not at all apologize to his very obviously negative reaction makes me think it was deliberate targeting.

Also, the next part of that opening.

Yes, Jade is somewhat impressed by Aventurine, but objectively, this phrase doesn’t really come off that way, especially considering her tone in the scene. Seriously, rewatch it, it’s less of her being impressed, and more of her being surprised at him breaking the status quo, one which she doesn’t seem to view negatively. Also, keep in mind that in the CN (aka canon) version, the word is “slave” instead of servant, however I don’t know how the lines are delivered in CN, so she might sound kinder.

Regardless, having this neutral, almost detached perspective on slavery is very uncomfortable, at least to me. Because well, slavery is really bad (shocker), and you can’t really be neutral about these kinds of things. Commenting about how resisting his master would put Aventurine in danger in a clinical and detached manner gives the impression that Jade does not care about the existence of slavery in the slightest, and is perfectly happy with knowing it’s going on and doing nothing about it. Something which gets 10x worse considering the organization she works for is the one doing the slavery, which makes me wonder if she’s seen it before and been like “eh, it’s part of life” 😭

I’m aware dismantling an entire institution is difficult, but her sheer apathy rather than inaction is what I feel is wrong in this scene, as again, a normal person wouldn’t talk about slavery like this. They would probably phrase it like, “resisting your enslaver would put your life in danger, yet you did it anyways”, with none of that neutral tone in there, which kind to implies that Aventurine resisting the person who abuses him is in any way wrong or unusual for a person to do. Honestly I can understand a little bit why people don’t have problems with this line, as understand why people see it as just her doing her job as a judge. However, there’s something so disturbingly off with it that makes me really not like Jade for it, and hopefully I conveyed that well enough, if you have a better way of phrasing it please tell me.

Annnd this is why I say she doesn’t view him as a person. Jade literally tells Aventurine that his name, the remainder of his identity, the one part of his culture and his family and his life, quite literally the only thing he has left is destined to be buried and abandoned. She knows how much it means to him, and she wants him to cast it aside and pick a new identity, as the only thing Jade cares about is what value Aventurine can bring for the IPC.

Also, she does refer to him as “child” there, so yeah, he likely is a minor or at the very least they have a very significant age gap! Yay! Taking advantage of people significantly younger than you! And if he is somehow close to her age, then well, she views him like a child in comparison to her, which is dehumanizing. There’s really no winning with this one huh 😭

She also refers to him in the same way his old enslaver did!

Hound and dog are synonyms, so yeah, ew. Narratively, this is meant to be a parallel from Aventurine’s time enslaved to his time now, which demonstrates how nothing really changed, as Jade refers to him in the same way his old master/enslaver did.

4. However, that’s not all to be concerned about for Jade, at least in terms of morality, so let’s look at her eidolons.

Each one of her eidolons questions a good quality, let’s take E3 for an example.

“Honesty?” She questions why people, more specifically she would be sincere, and answers it with “Soon Mortgaged”.

Now in this context, her honesty is likely seen as being convienent in order to get a deal off, if meant as a noun. As a verb it’s used in a similar manner, with Jade only behaving honestly because it’s part of her duty as a debt collector/contract maker.

Either way, this pattern for her eidolons, of her questioning a good quality then providing a selfish reason for why she exhibits it sets up a vicious implication. It makes it seem like any an all seemingly kind, benevolent behavior from Jade is really just a means to further her goals, making her seem untrustworthy and selfish, like well, a snake, which is a motif prevalent throughout her design.

Her lightcone description also doesn’t make her seem much better.

Oh how lovely, giving a future to innocent children, I sure do hope this description doesn’t end badly!

“A philanthropist with a hidden agenda, a villain who mortgages souls… She was given various identities by the world, but only she understood the morality behind these actions.”

Jade what are you planning…

This tells us two things:

1) She engages in philanthropist behavior for reasons we don’t know of yet which is concerning because philanthropy is centered around helping people, why do you have ulterior motives for helping people. What are you planning with those children, Jade?

2)”A villain who mortgages souls” oh! Sure, these two identities were apparently given to her by the world, but like, mortgaging souls??? I’ll get into her biblical (specifically satanic) references next, but like, you need one hell of a good reason to justify buying and selling PEOPLES SOULS. Whatever hidden agenda Jade might have must be like unfathomably good to justify this, because well, this means she owns (or at least helps other people own) people. PEOPLE.

Jade fucking OWNS HUMAN BEINGS. Unless those people are like a dictator reincarnated or something there’s no good reason to justify owning the essence of someone’s being. It’s straight up evil and I’m glad the game calls her a villain for it.

5. Satan is that you???

The snake, her contract thing as her skill and in her splash art, her job being “Jade of Credit”, her relationship to withered fruit, and the apple in her splash art, the man at her feet in her splash art, her MORTGAGING SOULS. Look, I’m not a Christian, but like, these are all pretty blatant references to satan who’s, idk, the embodiment of evil. Sure, you could say she’s more like Eve, but she’s not being tricked by the snake, no, in fact, the snake works for her.

Now I don’t literally think Jade is meant to be the devil or something, but she sure as hell seems like she’s meant to be narratively like an agent of Satan/ a demon, which is fascinating. Interestingly, this also paints her interaction with Aventurine as a deal with the devil, which just makes it seem even worse than it already is.

Well, for now that’s all of Jade’s questionable behavior, and I feel confident enough in saying that at the very least she’s meant to be read as morally grey, so acting like she does no wrong is strange. However, it’s not a crime to like villains at all, and I feel like if Jade’s hardcore defenders just accepted that part of her character, everyone would be way happier, because people do have legitimate reasons to dislike her for the shit she has done, especially rroma people for how she treated Aventurine.

Not everyone has to like your favorite character, and downplaying and lying about her lore and character because you can’t handle that is annoying as hell and does the character you are defending in the first place a disservice. Jade being a bad person is what makes her interesting, and honestly the idea that women can’t be bad people is misogynistic as well, which is a nice way to transition to the other part of this post:

For the love of god people don’t dislike Jade because of misogyny. Please shut up and stop throwing words around that you clearly don’t understand, as you only end up diminishing actual misogyny.

I’ve already gone over the valid reasons why people dislike her, so let’s go over all the other stupid shit people bring up in trying to pretend like Jade hate is misogyny.

“But Boothill didn’t get complaints when he was randomly drip marketed, people complaining are only misogynistic Sunday fans!”

Jesus Christ.

Boothill has been leaked for several fucking months prior to his drip marketing, and people had been waiting diligently for when he would finally show up for a while, so obviously they were happy when he did.

He’s like, the most fanservice-y character (in a good way) ever. Boothill is a fucking long-haired cyborg space cowboy outlaw who physically cannot curse and has the cuntiest animations known to mankind, that’s like the most appealing combination of traits known to man. So appealing in fact, that people outside the fandom were making posts about him. Big shocker that the character designed to make everyone love him has everyone love him, act surprised

Jade’s only scene so far had been her one with Aventurine in 2.1, which as I mentioned prior, has problems. This also doesn’t help that she’s just as slimy in his character stories and their interaction in 2.2, which compared to again, the character designed to be as appealing as possible, isn’t a good look.

For the love of god Sunday fans have the right to complain. They have also been waiting MONTHS for him, so they would have been disappointed at any character that isn’t Sunday getting marketed, as that means they have to wait even more months for him. He’s highly anticipated, in comparison to Jade, whose had crumbs so far, so of course some people got upset (I didn’t see anything more than disappointment tbh)

People did complain about Boothill’s marketing! Like I know everyone clowned on them, but there were Firefly stans genuinely upset that he got marketed over her, and someone even started a “boycott Boothill’s banner” campaign 😭. It’s just the other reasons compounded why more people complained about Jade than they did about him.

I’m sure there’s some people out there who hate her because they hate women, but like, everyone? Really?

Genuinely, it is so tiring to see misogyny get thrown around like it doesn’t mean anything, and people complaining about misogyny where it doesn’t exist, and ignoring it where it does. Like I’m sorry SOME Jade stans, but yall cannot call this misogyny, then proceed to compare Jade to other female characters like Firefly, and call them flops and trash in comparison to her. THATS unnecessary hating on women for no reason, so don’t be a fucking hypocrite.

Also if a goddamn fictional character is the hill you die on for women’s rights issues, when there’s actual women being genocided right now, please reevaluate your priorities and support the women who actually need your help and assistance right now. Dogging on random Sunday fan #365 for being “misogynistic” because they said they wished he was marketed instead of Jade when there are women being murdered as we speak is dumb as hell. Like yes, these two problems can coexist, but for the love of god pixels are not as important as actual people, and if you really cared about women this would not be the one issue of misogyny you seem to talk about.

Well, this post was kinda a mess, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways! I’d love to hear your thoughts on the matter, and personally I’m very interested to see where they go with Jade in 2.3. Please keep making her evil and don’t try to hit us with the sad backstory Hoyo, I’m fine if it’s meant to complicate her, but please don’t try and redeem her. Hopefully they go with the Dottore route, but considering they are planning on selling her, they might throw everything interesting down the drain for her which is sad. Let women be evil! And I hope you have a good day :)

#honkai star rail #hsr #We must pray she gets done justice #jade hsr #jade honkai star rail #aventurine #aventurine hsr #also the whip was um #The racists found it unfortunately #Prepare for the most tiring jokes ever when her banner drops #Ik people are already doing this but still #ARLAN AND AVENTURINE GET BEHIND ME #also please support the people in Gaza right now #They are the ones who really need peoples help right now #It’s so tiring seeing people complain about nonexistent misogyny towards pixels when they don’t even care about it irl #There are actual women who need your help rn and Jade is not one of them #Ugh anyways

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yesihaveaobsession · 13 days

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Interrupting the Broadcast

Alastor x female southern reader

Summary: The facility manager is in the middle of a broadcast and doesn't like being interrupted, Charlie sends the reader (you) to go get Alastor to unclog a toilet. (you are like his kryptonite)

A/N- How cute would Alastor and a sweet southern reader be together?! HELLO?

You were lounging in the hotel lobby reading a book when Charlie, the Princess of Hell, came rushing up to you in a panic and out of breath. You looked up from your book, confused. "Hey! Can you do me a favor?" she asked, almost out of breath.

“Sure thang, sugar. Whatcha need?” you replied in your thick southern drawl, adjusting your posture to look at her, putting your book down onto your lap and giving Charlie your full attention. Charlie groaned, glancing toward the kitchen. "The toilet by the kitchen is clogged, and I really don’t want to deal with it right now. Can you go tell Alastor?"

You blinked in surprise, raising an eyebrow. “Alastor? Now, Charlie, you know he’s up there doin’ his broadcast, and that man hates bein’ interrupted. Ain’t that a recipe for disaster?”

Charlie waved her hands, clearly desperate. "I know, I know! But he likes you better! He won’t mind if it’s you.” It was true, he actually secretly adored you even though he tries and doesn't show it. He thinks you're sweet, too sweet to be in such a place like Hell. You're funny and most of all he loved your southern accent. He feels somewhat a connection with you because of his southern roots of being a resident of New Orleans in his past life.

You couldn’t believe that for one second. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Ya gotta be kiddin’ me.” Shaking your head with a smile. Angel Dust, Vaggie, and Husk, who were not too far behind, strolled by. "Oh yeah," Angel Dust chimed in with a smirk. "You’re his favorite. He won’t tear your head off for interrupting. Probably just give you one of those weird, charming smiles."

Vaggie rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement. "As annoying as he can be, you're right. He’s got a soft spot for you." Husk, as usual, just grumbled but muttered, “She’s right.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. I’ll do it. But if he snaps, y’all better be ready to scrape me off the floor.”

“Deal!” Charlie perked up, giving you a grateful smile as she practically shoved you toward the stairs leading to the radio tower.

Climbing up to the tower that stood almost secluded, you could already hear Alastor's smooth static voice broadcasting through the door. With each step, your heart beat a little faster, knowing how particular he was about his on-air time. You stopped outside the door, biting your lip before knocking softly. "Lord have mercy," you whispered under your breath, steeling yourself.

"Come in!" came his sing-song voice from inside.

Pushing the door open, you slowly stepped in, your boots echoing on the wooden floor. Alastor sat at the control console with his back to you, still speaking into his microphone. The "On Air" sign glowing above him. You cleared your throat, hoping he wouldn’t be too annoyed. "Uh, Alastor?"

He glanced over his shoulder, his smile a little too sharp as his red eyes locked onto you. "Ah, well if it isn’t my dear southern belle! What brings you to my little broadcast?"

You scratched the back of your neck, feeling the weight of his gaze. "Hate t’ interrupt ya durin’ yer show, but Charlie wanted me t’ let ya know the toilet by the kitchen’s clogged." For a split second, Alastor's smile didn't reach his eyes. Then he let out a laugh, one that made your skin crawl a little. "A toilet? Really? This is the matter of great importance you felt compelled to interrupt me with?"

"Hey now, it weren’t my idea," you shot back, crossing your arms. "Ah told ‘em you wouldn’t wanna be bothered, but they reckon you’d be less mad if Ah was the one tellin’ ya." Alastor loved to make you annoyed; that southern accent was truly his kryptonite.

"Since it’s you who came to deliver this message, I’ll forgive the intrusion. Let’s go take care of this… pressing situation, shall we?"

"Much obliged," you said with a grin, relaxing a little now that he wasn’t upset. Again, if it was anyone else, he would be. Maybe he would make a small exception for Nifty and Charlie, but nobody compares to you. As he opened the door for you, his voice dropped just slightly, still carrying that smooth, velvety tone. "Though, next time, do bring me something a bit more interesting than a clogged toilet."

You gave him a side-eye and a grin. "Don’t reckon a toilet’s ever gonna be that interestin’." You walked back downstairs, Alastor following close behind, his voice humming some old tune as you went. Maybe Charlie was right after all—he definitely didn’t seem to mind you nearly as much as the others.

As you both reached the kitchen, Alastor’s eyes twinkled with an amused glint. “After we deal with this, perhaps you’d like to join me for a cup of tea? I’m sure we could both use a break from the excitement of plumbing troubles.”

You chuckled, feeling more at ease. “Sounds like a plan, Alastor. Lead the way.”

Alastor's smile broadened as he followed you into the kitchen.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #i have an obsession

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searenbound · 6 months

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This is a brothers Grimm inspired retelling of sleeping beauty and my first proper somno and noncon piece so please be gentle with me and give me some constructive feedback so I can improve!.

Warnings: somnophilia, noncon, afab reader with she/her pronouns, vaginal penetration described, oral(reader receiving), delusional/yandere!Todoroki, fantasy au, I feel like it's open-ended but could be left as a standalone one shot

Pairing: prince!Shouto Todoroki x sleeping beauty!reader

Our story begins with a prince who’s grown restless under his father’s strict control.

The prince known as Shouto went on many trips, all of which were under secrecy to avoid the wrath of the mad king Enji. For if he was discovered by his father, he’d surely be severely punished.

Maybe with a beating, or perhaps isolation, or worse his siblings would suffer for his actions.

He couldn’t risk the consequences, that’s what he told himself when had discovered an old castle in ruins.

‘You’ll be late’ he tells him as he examines the thick overgrowth of thorny vines that wrap around the aged and crumbling walls.

‘You need to return’ he reminds himself, cutting through overgrowth and forcing his way into the old palace, ignoring his better judgment in favor of his curiosity.

If he were truly honest, he was hoping to find whatever valuables were left behind so he could keep on the run and never return home. So he may dare to be selfish and not worry about anyone else’s ill fate, if he were honest that is.

Clearly whoever had owned this castle was long gone, old rotting furniture and aged paintings that were caked in thick grime and dirt.

He almost turned back, nothing here could possibly be of worth right? And yet, on some sort of fateful divine intervention, he felt compelled to look around a little longer.

For what, he did not know, he certainly could not have even imagined he would discover the perfectly preserved body of a beautiful young maiden.

She appeared roughly his age when she was put to rest, he thinks it such a shame that she must have passed young.

He steps closer to observe her better, shocked to witness her chest rising and falling. He presses a hand against her soft face, noting the warmth and softness of her skin.

He knows it’s insane, her clothes were dusty and the room around them was clearly aged decades, perhaps centuries, but she is most assuredly alive just asleep.

Certainly, this must be a curse and undoubtedly one he was destined to break. Why else would he be so compelled to go searching for her?

But how?

If the stories of witches and their evil deeds and tricks were to be believed, then a kiss should do. So with this in mind, he leaned down to capture her lips, certain that the spark he felt was a sign from the heavens.

Soon his princesses would awaken and she would be so greatly impressed and grateful that she would marry him without question.

He waits what feels like one, two, three, four whole minutes, and watches in confused frustration when she remains peacefully asleep.

‘Then a kiss is not enough’ he comes to realize ‘I need to do more, I have to show her she was meant to be my wife’. It made perfect sense to him, there was no need to question himself or his motives behind this because why else would a simple kiss not work?

Clearly, he needed to consummate this divine union.

He shuddered at the thought, the reality of the situation hitting him suddenly and making him unsure if this was all a delusion of grandeur.

Maybe he should reevaluate and deal with the creeping sense of disgust in himself, or maybe this deep and sudden desire for her was truly divine?

But this was unquestionably a sinful crime in any other circumstance, something a valiant and righteous prince like himself should never allow themself to indulge in.

But his urge to move forward must be a sign, it’s brought him this far, and he wouldn’t even be here if he had ignored it.

If he did follow his compulsion, the consequences would be well worth the actions right? Just a husband committing to his wife, that’s what this was.

It isn’t wrong for him to lay his hands on her sleeping body, positioning her to aid him in removing her old clothes, and laid his hot lips on the warm flush that was revealed.

Allowing himself to travel every exposed inch until he had her sex in close sight. He laved his tongue over it in curiosity. Humming in approval when he found her to secrete the sweetest nectar he had ever had the pleasure of tasting.

He lapped away at her as if he would never be allowed to again, no, as if he had never been fed. As if he had been starving for longer than he could remember and this would be the only meal he would have in who knew how long.

He found himself greedily pressing his fingers into her little hole, desperately trying to drag out more of her essence. Long slender fingers moving back and forth, dragging against her inner walls and unknowingly inching a dam of sorts closer and closer to snapping.

It almost startled him when she squeaked out a pleasant-sounding moan, practically pouring her heavenly nectar like a fountain for him. Her sex tightening and convulsing around his fingers, he finds himself enraptured by her involuntary response to him; assured he was right to think that this was the correct action.

He resettled himself between her legs so his sex was in line with her sopping wet warmth quickly. He would take his time to know her body properly later but for now, he would focus on introducing his body to her own.

He takes a breath, takes himself in hand, and rests against her entrance. Pausing to steel his nerves before pushing into her with a single thrust. Savoring how her wet warmth parted around him and held so tightly.

‘This couldn’t be wrong when it felt so heavenly’ he thinks, throwing his head back.

He hears a murmur of discomfort from her, he figures he must be her first lover. Good. This doubtlessly meant that the divines had been saving her for him.

She was meant for this, meant to be his love, to be the vessel for his seed.

So, there was no need to hold back on her until she’d taken it all in her womb, right?

He silences her involuntary whines with hot wanton kisses, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth and explore every bit of it. Uncaring of the lack of response, he has plenty of time to know what her kiss truly felt like once she awakens.

He lets himself indulge in her. Dragging his finger along the little pearl of pleasure that made her leak more of her essence. His hips slapped against her at a rough and quick pace, chasing a pleasure that was well worth the effort.

He wondered, would she accept loving this rough when she did wake? Would she want the way he was being so forceful or would she rather him be gentle and tender? He supposed he could be gentle.

It did sound rather nice, but he would honestly prefer this. He thinks maybe she would too, her sex twitched and spasmed so desperately around him in response to his actions. Almost as if to wring out his love, it’s hard to imagine she wasn’t or wouldn’t enjoy this.

He wondered if she would call his name loudly, he could imagine it clearly based on the sounds she was already making.

‘S-Shou! Oh, Shouto! Please!’ she’d cry out, on the verge of spilling over again and pulling him with her, accepting every drop of his white-hot love inside her.

He barely catches himself from clasping on top of her, he can feel himself starting to stir again inside of her. How must this look to her?

“W-who are you?! W-what are you do—!”.

He cuts her off with a kiss, frowning when she jerks her face away. Didn’t she understand that he was her husband now?!

“Your husband,” he says it calmly, almost coldly as his hips pick up speed again. It would seem he’d have to teach her this new role as his wife.

And this is where we leave, with a king and his queen. One will live happily ever after, the other has no option but to be “happy” with her new life.

Tag list: @when-you-are-just-done @justabratsworld @kkatsukiswife

#shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader smut #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader smut #shouto x reader #shouto x reader smut #todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader smut #tw somno #tw non con #fantasy au

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adelphenium · 10 months

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Hello beautiful artist who has spoiled this fandom completely in a matter of weeks.

If you ever drew arber xhekaj and juraj slafkovsky , I know a lot of ppl wouldn’t be mad at it 😏

Even if you don’t, just know your work and the amount you give back is still soooo appreciated 🩷🩷🥳🥳

hello and thank you for your lovely words!! i've been having such a nice time in hockey fandom space and it really motivates me to do more of what i love :,)

i must admit that i have 0 knowledge abt the habs, but i saw arber xhekaj and i just . his pure gender is so compelling......

tysm for the req! 💗💗

#they look like car mechanics like this...... would they be any good or would they make your car even worse...#juraj slafkovsky #arber xhekaj #hockey art #montreal canadiens #yjart #req!#hrpf #hockey rpf

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hitlikehammers · 8 months

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feel the bigger thing

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness, rockstar!Eddie, domestic husbands are domestic ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, rockstar husbands, love is lying on top of each other on the sofa discussing buying a new house with a pool, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day twelve: Love is having hope for the future together (@acasualcrossfade)

you know how the rockstar husbands talked about lights for their pool in the original fic, je ne regrette rien? well GUESS WHAT FEATURES HERE

“These numbers,” Eddie’s reading over the printouts from their manager, sales projections and preliminary tour dates and all the rest: “baby, we can get the new house, hell, we can keep this one and have a second house if we want it,” Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head where he’s got him bundled up on his chest, tucked under his chin where they’re currently both sprawled on the couch; Eddie says he likes to think like that—likes to know Steve’s there by design, no question, the weight of him evident every time he breathes, he says; held close to my heart, baby, in fact, is what he also says.

Hopeless goddamn romantic, his husband. But he wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We don’t need a second house,” Steve points out, smooshed against Eddie’s sternum.

“We can get the pool,” Eddie added with the audible equivalent of his brow-wiggle and okay, fine, that’s a good point, because Steve may not have really used the one at his parents’ after, well, everything, but he…does kinda miss having one. Now that the memories are distant enough in both time and miles that he doesn’t see standing water deeper than four feet and start fucking hyperventilating anymore.

So…yeah. Compelling argument regarding a pool.

“This record,” Eddie blows out a long breath, slow and even as Steve rides it where he’s braced atop his chest, lifted with his lungs: “this record’s gonna change everything.”

Steve turns his opposite cheek against Eddie’s heartbeat, huffs a little as he gets comfortable again before he asks:

“You think so?”

Eddie doesn’t move, but the fact that he stills so completely is kinda like a motion in itself.

“You don’t?”

He doesn’t sound angry or anything, or even upset. Not disappointed. Maybe just…surprised.

And Steve gets that. The numbers attached to this album are…if they’re right?

This is going to be huge.

But.

“I mean,” Steve shrugs, which is kinda useless given his position, so he sorts of ends up nosing at Eddie’s shirt instead as a byproduct of the hushing of his shoulders: he’s not mad at that, as the outcome:

“I guess, not really,” Steve finally settles on because it’s really not any more complicated than that.

Then Eddie’s got his fingertips at Steve’s nape and he’s spreading them through Steve’s hair and oh.

Oh, that’s so fucking nice.

Which is probably why he pairs the sensation with the question he follows with:

“It’s not good?”

And Steve almost doesn’t hear it, and he wouldn’t even fucking feel bad for not hearing it or not processing it when Eddie’s hands are in his hairlike that because fucking hell, Eddie knows what that goddamn does to him; but Steve does hear it. And again: it’s not angry, or upset. It’s maybe a little surprised. It’s not even quite…hurt, or disappointed, but it’s far closer to either or both than Steve’s comfortable with, than Steve ever wants to hear in that voice, so:

“God no,” he answers with real feeling, shaking his head to back it up and also to—mournfully—dislodge Eddie’s distracting fucking hands; “it’s spectacular,” Steve tells him, plain and honest because it’s the fucking truth: “definitely your best yet.” Also true.

Eddie goes still again, and Steve tips his head up and back at the most uncomfortable possible angle to catch Eddie expression, to read its clues: he’s watching Steve so intently, like he’s something unfathomable and dear enough to spend eternity decoding—but that’s strange in itself. They kind of know each other inside-and-out by now.

So Steve rolls back the words exchanged, looks for the catch, the dropped stitch, the record-scratch.

Gonna change everything—

Ah. Steve’s breath hitches a little, but: he thinks he’s found it. Right.

He makes himself breath in deep but slow, gentle and calm as he can, and Eddie’ll pick up the tension he can’t wholly wash out just yet, and Eddie’ll feel the uptick of his pulse where his one hand holds Steve still around the ribs. But it’s fine. Because they’re fine.

Okay.

“I just,” Steve exhales long; “you said everything,” and Steve tries to make his tone hold the word itself to account, to fill it up with all of the things that came to Steve’s mind and made him denounce the possibility on sight—change everything? But there’s so very little about Steve’s life, about this life together, about their life that they’ve clawed and fought for and now get to relish and bask in: Steve doesn’t want that changed.

And to think a fucking album release could change what they have, that was just, insanity.

…right?

“You said that, and I—“ and that’s as far as Steve gets before Eddie’s dragging him up, firm but so tender, and so full of love in just the touch that any misgivings—and they weren’t even that, that were just…just little off feelings that Steve knew weren’t of real consequence, because he knowswhat they are and what they have and his first instinct was right damnit, and he knew that like he knows the sky is blue and Eddie curls frizz no matter what you fucking do to them: they won’t change in the ways that matter, because they’re…unshakable.

So Steve knew that already, and he knows it now in just Eddie’s touch drawing up upward and closer, but if somehow he’d managed to miss both of those points?

The way he kisses Steve is…fuck, it’s like sucking his soul to consume.

“Oh, oh baby,” Eddie speaks so that they’re lips aren’t ever anything but locked tight, but touching close and with feeling; “not everything, no,” he promises, seals it, vows it straight into Steve’s open mouth so it’ll slip safe down to his heart and soul:

“Not everything,” he whispers, still close enough they can’t breathe without the other there, too, and: that’s heady. That’s real.

“Good,” Steve exhales but with a weight to it, a finality: a seal and vow of his own as he nips Eddie’s swollen lips once, twice, and then tucks himself under Eddie’s chin again, where Eddie’s arms are waiting to envelop him even closer, now; tighter still somehow.

“You’re the center of my world, you know that?” Eddie finally murmurs into Steve’s hair once their breaths have calmed a little, and he can say it steady and sure like he means to, and Steve really just smiles, and burrows that half-an-inch closer, where he compresses Eddie’s flesh to the bone so he can feel the nearest a person can be.

“I do know that,” and it’s not even a fib, or a half-truth: and Eddie already knows the understood ‘you’ of the sentiment clear and well-established—Steve knows Eddie’s love in all sorts of ways, big and small and in between but the first way he probably believed it best was coming to grips with the fact, the unwavering law-of-the-universe fact, that Eddie Munson’s heart beats for Steve the very same Steve’s beats for him. No difference. No more or less. Perfect concert, exact same time signature: precisely shock-start to pump in the first place, like the same spark keeps time in both their chests.

Steve knows he’s loved in ways that don’t have words. Because he loves the very same, and so he knows them intimately, no labels required.

“I already told the promo team we work around your schedule or I’m gonna have to by inconveniently down with the flu for appearances,” Eddie adds as Steve settles back on his chest, soft again and languid: he wasn’t fearful, or even truly hesitant, but—it’s nice. To lean back in and cuddle close.

“You know you don’t have to—“ Steve starts but Eddie tuts him quiet in a flash.

“I do have to. Save my heart the aching, baby,” he presses lips to Steve’s temple and speaks there, drags his mouth wet to the skinL “more important, save yours the same.”

And Steve maybe can’t help but press his own lips first through the cotton of Eddie’s shirt straight to the center of his chest, and then leaning up a little, to the stretched-out collar sneaking the lowest peek of flesh beneath his clavicle: kisses there too, a little sloppy and a lot overfull of feeling as he breathes:

“I love you something wild, Eddie Munson,” and his pulse skips happily, a little dance under Steve’s mouth as he smiles before propping his chin on Eddie’s chest and looking up, meeting the eyes he knows are waiting for him, waiting to lock with his.

And when they do—even after all these years, and Steve has no expectation of it ever change with more to come—but when their eyes meet it’s Steve’s heart that goes giddy, a little off-kilter for joy, and it fucking is that, isn’t it.

It’s wild.

“I love metal, baby,” Eddie answers, and Steve tips his head a little; an odd direction, but he’s intrigued: “music and D&D and meeting the fans,” and Eddie’s playing with his hair again, and he knows what that does, but—

“I feel something so much bigger, for you,” and Jesus, Steve’s in love with maybe the only person in the world who can match him for romance; sometimes outstrips him, even. His heart goes back to dancing chaotic and he couldn’t fucking stifle the grin if he tried, and fuck if he’s ever planning to try.

“Fucking sap,” Steve mouths tight against Eddie’s chest, damp through his shirt for the chuckle he breathes there, weightless and marveling because he gets to have this; they get to have this: they’ve had this for so long and they get to keep it.

“You love it though,” Eddie runs his cheek back and forth across the top of Steve head, and Steve just hums:

“I don’t love it,” he insists with intent in it: “the bigger thing,” he corrects, makes clear: “I feel the bigger thing.”

And Eddie just ducks a smile against Steve’s hair, warm where as it spreads, and Steve can feel it; can’t help him mirror it full as he sighs:

“So tell me more about this pool.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #established relationship #established steddie #rockstar eddie munson #domestic fluff #or rather more: domestic LOVE #idiots in love #slice of life #rockstar husbands #they might have enough money for the POOL #criminal levels of softness #steddielovemonth #love is having hope for the future together #these two boys have probably been together around a decade at this point and it FUCKING SHOWS #old married couple!steddie #stranger things

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greenqueenhightower · 3 months

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I know u won't get my point, but Alicent should have paid more attention to Rhaenyra and respected her and her father's wishes and not have installed her fucking son on the throne. Things started going south when she married Viserys and when she wanted to strip Rhaenyra off her birthright

How about, no?

*Long Rant Incoming:*

1) Viserys didn't talk about "birthright." In the eyes of the smallfolk, Aegon has the "birthright" to rule simply because he is a male Targaryen heir. Alicent's position was vulnerable because Viserys never actually promised Alicent that Aegon would be king but neither did he specify exactly what his role would be and that was the point… all his children wanted his attention and love, and a place to belong. Viserys didn’t know what he wanted. Before naming Rhaenyra his heir, he wanted a son so desperately that he killed his wife for it. His conscience pained him badly afterward, and he decided to name Rhaenyra his heir. Nevertheless, he wanted a young woman to sleep with; he didn’t want a wife, he didn’t want more kids, and he had already named his heir. But he married Alicent and had those kids anyway. He really was so irresponsible and on top of that, he tells Alicent in episode 3 that he thinks he probably was wrong in making Rhaenyra his heir because of his dream/prophecy, so ofc Alicent was worried. Honestly, he could have made his mind up about Rhaenyra and shut up about it. Or he could have actually thought of his other kids and given them some work to do and trained them for some position if he truly cared for them. From the moment they existed, they were his responsibility. And for sure it makes sense why his kids by Alicent, not having known any special love from their father, would want to finally claim a position for themselves.

So, Viserys set the Dance in motion by his choices. If he had supported his Targtower kids and ensured they wouldn’t be threatened by their mad uncle (Daemon; who hated them just because they were Otto's and Alicent's blood) in the succession, then Alicent would have fewer reasons to establish Aegon on the throne.

2) Alicent spent time with Viserys because she had always considered her own self in reference to the Targaryens. What was she if not Rhaenyra’s childhood companion? When Otto compels her to visit Viserys she doesn’t want to. She brings along the book of histories she used to read to Rhaenyra. What else can she offer to the Targaryens? This is what they like: to talk about their legacies and their histories. So she might as well read to him, right? There’s no harm done. And she went. She does the bare minimum whenever they are together: the bare minimum of eye contact and conversation. Viserys was SO PERVERSE that even with the minimum attention from a teenager he wanted to fuck her. Not even make her his wife because he didn’t want another wife. And you see how surprised Alicent is when he declares so matter-of-factly that he will wed Alicent, no questions asked. Because she was the easiest bride-but-no-wife choice of them all. She already had her father in court who was a megalomaniac, and Viserys thought that by marrying Alicent he was giving Otto what he always wanted: greater opportunities for social climbing. So he’d stay out of his way, right? That’s what he wanted all along, right? So I can have your daughter any way I like, right? (Because had he married Laena, can you imagine being so chill with Corlys as a father-in-law? Ofc he wouldn’t desire anything potentially restrictive for him.) And I’m saying that he didn’t want a wife because of what he’d done before to Aemma. He had already made up his mind that (to console his own conscience and to honor Aemma’s memory) he would make Rhaenyra his heir. SO HE DIDN'T NEED ANY MORE HEIRS. Then why does he get married and have some more?? BECAUSE HE IS AN IDIOT and because he just wanted a young bride. He is the reason the war began, and his reckless choices, not Alicent wanting some compensation for her years of mistreatment and suffering. Because even after he got married and had those kids he still had time to make things right but he didn’t.

So Alicent didn’t marry Viserys, it was the other way around. He lusted after her and wed and bed her. Teenage Alicent couldn’t and wouldn't go against the will of the King.

3) Regarding the friendship between Alicent and Rhaenyra it was actually the opposite: Alicent many times tried to defend her and had her back even when Viserys and Otto believed the rumors of her losing her maidenhood (which as an unmarried heir was an insult to the crown). Alicent didn’t want to believe it and she supported her! However, even earlier than that, Rhaenyra cast Alicent off without understanding or offering consolation for the predicament she found herself in. She never tried to understand Alicent and never really paid enough attention to what her friend was going through even before she married Viserys. Alicent was alone and without a friend and Rhaenyra should have paid more attention to her.

4) Things really started to go south when Rhaenyra betrayed Alicent's trust by lying to her and continuing to flout her freedom, special treatment, and life without consequences to Alicent's face. The reason Rhaenyra had bastards and married Laenor was her own fault in the first place. Alicent tried to encourage Viserys to look for any potential suitors for her, and Rhaenyra had every opportunity to make the right choice but no, she messed it up by seeking out Daemon and then sleeping with Criston, so she brought it to herself. After what she did, there was no suitor available apart from Laenor, and her father forced her to marry him because no one else would. And then she had three Strong kids, making every mistake after the other (although I understand her completely: she had to have those kids because she wanted heirs and because that’s her body her choice, you know? She can sleep with whomever she wants) but at the same time, the game they all play is political and during the time and age we’re discussing, it was a big deal if you had bastard kids, especially since there already were THREE legitimate male Targaryen heirs whose fate was unsure and further endangered by Rhaenyra's actions. But it wasn’t Alicent’s fault that Rhaenyra had those kids, it was her own choice and she had to live up to the consequences of her actions. (She did this once by taking her children away from KL because she, too, recognized that they were being pointed at too much and it was getting too obvious).

5) Alicent knew that Rhaenyra wasn’t going to hurt her kids but the system they were born in would. In case she became heir, for Rhaenyra to secure her succession and have no challengers, Alicent’s kids had to die. Those displeased by Rhaenyra could easily dethrone her if there was an active male heir free to roam around Westeros. Alicent's sons would always be a challenge to Rhaenyra. And maybe Rhaenyra hadn’t thought about it per se and I trust that she never had vile intentions towards the kids (despite the deleted scenes where she gives death stares to Aegon) and despite never calling them by their names or developing a relationship with her siblings. Her own council and her uncle-husband would advise her to kill them. Their position wasn’t safe. Viserys could have secured it by giving them land and titles instead of the throne and by having them bend the knee to Rhaenyra but he didn’t. So their position was very much vulnerable because again, he didn’t care at all what happened to them, but Alicent, claiming the throne for her son, and saving his life the only way she knew how, DID.

#sorry for the incoherency of this long rant #pro alicent hightower #alicent hightower defense squad #alicent hightower #hotd #house of the dragon #dance of the dragons #anti viserys i targaryen #dracarys on viserys #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #team green #the greens #green kids #hotd rant #greenqueenrants #greenqueenasks #greenqueenhightower #hotd meta

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foxyarchive · 7 months

Text

Your Guardian Angel(Or Devil) P1

You're an average young woman, just trying to live your life. After almost meeting your untimely demise one night, you're saved by a foul-mouthed divine being who claims to be your Guardian Angel, AND the first man.

OR; Adam is your Guardian Angel who swoops in to save you when you need it, and also pesters you whenever he feels like it. This arrangement is fun for neither of you.

Cross Posted on AO3!

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive comments, Adam being Adam.....

Words: ~7K

May end up being a two parter because that's all I have ideas for, but definitely down to write more of Reader and Adam together if you all wanna send me ideas here or on my AO3! Enjoy!

P1 | P2 | P3

Today had, certainly, been one of the days of all time.

It had started off with the coffee maker essentially breaking. You’d managed to get about half of a cup of the normal amount of coffee you made while you were throwing together some breakfast for yourself. When you’d went over to investigate to try brewing again, nothing was happening. If the red, soulless, blinking light on your maker was anything to go by, it was that the damned thing had died.

With a sigh, you ended up pouring an overabundance of your preferred mix-in while eating your quick little breakfast. You were already running a bit behind. In a rush to finish getting ready, you’d ended up smudging a bit of the lipstick you had put on, forcing you to be even more behind as you needed to clean it off and reapply anything necessary.

You’d finally grabbed your bag and were out the door, and when you got in your car, saw that you were nearly out of gas. You tried to think; What in the Hell would compel you to leave your car on nearly empty and not fill up after work? It was then, you recalled, wanting to catch the season finale of a show last night with your friend. You’d hurried home, and had just said to yourself you’d wake up early this morning and fill up before going to work.

Of fucking course today had to be the day you woke up a bit later after staying up unusually late last night. A groan split from your throat, rubbing your temple with two fingers. You hadn’t packed a lunch, either, so guess you were going hungry most of the day beside some of the snacks in your drawer. You wouldn’t have enough time to get gas and lunch on your break. At this point, all you could do was pray that you’d be able to make it to a gas station after work. You did have an… Unconventional guardian angel, after all, so surely it would all work out…

Speaking of guardian angel…

“Yo, I don’t know if you can, uh, hear me right now… I mean, I assume you can, if you’re, like, kinda omnipotent or whatever, but… Try and make my day a little better, alright?” You said, somewhat awkwardly to the empty air around you in your car as you drove to work. No response. You felt like a mad woman.

With a sigh, you just continued your drive. Finding parking at the office went awful, no surprise, and you walked in about seven minutes after you were supposed to clock in. Your boss didn’t say anything, but the stare given to you was enough to know that your tardiness was apparent. All you could do right now was just keep your head down and check your emails from your clients and work diligently.

Thankfully, the day was going by smoothly… So far. Besides needing to put a fire via email, and your pencil cup holder being somehow knocked over twice mysteriously(you sent a glare over your shoulder every time but didn’t see anyone), you had nothing else to complain about. That was, until just before lunch, you felt a cramp. At first, you thought it was a hunger pain, and tried to shift to brush it off. The more you cramped, though, you felt it lower in your gut, and your heart sank. No shot, your cycle wasn’t supposed to be for another few days!

You cursed to yourself, deciding to take an early lunch to check. You shuffled through your drawer to see if you had anything– Tampons, pads, a cup, something to try and stop the flow while you were at work. Nothing. Great. You grumbled to yourself, getting up to head to the bathroom. The company you worked for was fairly small, the middle ground between a small business owner and a blossoming corporation, so nothing for feminine sanitation was available in either bathrooms.

Sitting down in the restroom, you shucked your pants and underwear down, groaning at the sight of a faint bit of blood splattering your underwear. “Motherfu…” Your grumble trailed off whilst you suppressed the urge to rub at your face in frustration. Instead, you just made a rather unsavory hand gesture with both of your hands to nobody in particular. Well, actually, yes there was somebody in particular, but you couldn’t see him right now. You weren’t even sure if he could see you, but it certainly made you feel better.

Stifling a groan, you wrapped some toilet paper around your underwear to try and soak up anything for now. After you were redressed and hands were washed, you headed back to your desk to eat a measly granola bar and some dried fruit, before clocking back in and continuing on with your day.

After getting yelled at over the phone by a client for something that wasn’t even your fault, as well as accidentally spilling some water over your keyboard while staying late, work was over for the day. You were just looking forward to going home, taking a nice, hot shower, and watching whatever brain rot you decided to indulge in tonight. Maybe with some ice cream. You were once more reminded, though, that you needed to get gas in your car once you got in and started it up. The nearest gas station wasn’t incredibly close, so you were biting your lip the entire time you drove there.

You nearly slumped in relief when you saw it right around the corner, but any relief that was in your veins washed away as you pulled up just inside of the parking lot, and your car began to roll. You pushed on the gas rapidly, but nothing was happening. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck–” You began to freak out, before relaxing somewhat. It would just… Roll to one of the pumps, right? Wrong, apparently. Oh, so, very wrong. There was a slight incline upwards to the gas pumps, and to your horror, the car started to even roll backwards.

“No!” You gasped, quickly putting it into park. You took in a small, shuddering breath, putting it back into drive as you tried to push on the gas again. Nothing. You’d run out literally right inside the gas station lot. Due to leaving work later than normal because of not only coming in late, but needing to deal with an unruly client, nobody else was here at the moment. Nobody could help you. For what felt like the umpteenth time that day, another groan left your lips as your head slammed back against the carseat head.

With now an annoyed snarl, you pushed open your car door, slamming it as you walked around to the back of your car after putting it in neutral. “Okay… Okay, I can do this… Just a small nudge up the hill… It’s barely a hill, too, it’s fine, I can move a couple hundred… Thousand…” You uttered to yourself, trying to hype up as you shifted foot from foot. After some brief stretching, you placed your hands on the back of your car, beginning to slowly push it. Or, well, at least try to push it. You were so focused on your task, you didn’t even notice a figure pop up beside you.

“‘Sup.” Adam greeted, causing you to gasp and nearly slip and fall in surprise.

“Adam! Good God you have shitty timing.” You groaned, slumping against the back of your car. You were already exhausted and you hadn’t even been trying to push for two minutes!

“Hey, what’d I say? Good girls only get into Heaven by not using the Lord’s name in vain.” He drawled, boredly, leaning against the side of your car as he looked over his nails. Well, more aptly, his fingers. He had gloves on, after all, so obviously it was just for show, and it just irritated you more. About to bite out a response, he beat you to it by finally surveying the situation. “Pfffft–” Came from him as he grinned, before he started to laugh, backing away from your car and pointing at you. “What– What the fuck are you doing? Did you run out of gas?”

“S-Shut up!” You snapped, face flushing warm in embarrassment as he laughed at you, but he didn’t yield. You stomped your foot in irritation, a small whine leaving your throat as you realized just how stupid the whole situation was. “It’s not funny!”

“Hah– Haha– I hate to tell you, sugartits, but it’s actually hilarious.” He finally calmed down, wiping an invisible tear from his face with a sigh and smug smile, putting his hands on his hips. He didn’t seem to be phased by your anger at all. “Aww, you’re so cute when you’re mad.” He inched towards you, ignoring your seething expression as he patted your head. “Like a wittle angwy kitty–”

“Fuck you.” You snarled out, slapping his hand away as you turned back to your car, and he was the one who scoffed like he’d been offended. The nerve. “Some fuckin’ angel you are, laughing at my misery.” You grouse, turning back to your vehicle, placing your hands on the back once more.

He just offers a roll of his eyes. Or, well, what appears to be a roll with the incline he makes with his head. He doesn't have pupils, after all. “Babes, it’s not the first time I have, and it’s definitely not gonna be the last.” Comes his response, and he seems once more impassive to the glare you send him before you focus back ahead. “I mean, c’mon, I already gotta look after your ass, I wanna get some amusement out of it. Speaking of looking at ass…” You’re bent forward again, trying to push the car forward with all of your might. You did manage to roll it maybe a few inches, but it once again left you exhausted. You caught Adam looking at your butt with an appreciative view on his face. “You should wear shorter skirts–” He begins to speak, but you cut him off this time.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” You snip, bristling at his suggestive commentary as you stand here and struggle your way forward. “If you’re just going to stand there and be inappropriate, then will you kindly piss off?” You huff, looking back at your car once more.

“Fine, be a cunt, see if I care.” He scoffs out in response, flipping you the bird as he turns away. It’s then, suddenly, you realize maybe work has really dulled your mind. He’s your guardian angel, it’s his job to help you!

“Wait, wait!” You sigh out, exasperated, as you turn and grab for him, thankful he didn’t just poof away yet. You reach for his robes, but end up grabbing one of his wings as they flared out, yanking back.

“Ow, bitch, watch the feathers!” He snarls out, turning on you with a glare of his own. He draws his wing over to him, brushing his hand against it with a sneer as he looks down at you. “The fuck you want? Want to apologize for your bratty behavior?” He huffs, and you can’t suppress a roll of your eyes, try as you might.

“No, I’d like your help in pushing my car up to a pump.” You’re growing more and more weary by the minute. How has literally nobody else pulled into the gas station? At this point, maybe you should just ask the worker inside to help you. He just crosses his arms, raising a brow at your request.

“And why should I help you?” He decides to play coy, and you grit both your jaw and hands into fists.

“Because you’re my guardian angel! You’re literally supposed to help me!” Comes your snappy response, and he taps a finger to his chin, pondering with a ‘hmmm’, as if actually thinking about your response.

“Mmm… Yeah, nah, babes, not how that works. What part of ‘guardian’ do you not fuckin’ understand? You want a dictionary, bitch?” He snaps his fingers, the thick book appearing in his hand in a puff of golden dust as he offers it out to you. “Why don’t you look up the definition of it and study up?” You eye twitches as you none too kindly shove his arm away from you that offers you the dictionary.

“I know what it means, I don’t need to look it up!” You hiss out. You’re almost on the verge of tears, now, as the frustration burns through your entire being. You’re hungry, cramping and aching, and stressed out about this whole thing. You’re not sure if Adam seems to notice this, with the slight way you see the hard edges around his smug grin soften some. Either he doesn’t care or notice, though, as you continue on. “I could be in danger! I-I mean, if I don’t move the car, someone will pull forward, and if they don’t pay attention they could run right into me! Then I would be hurt! And maybe even die!” You emphasize with a wave of your hands.

He doesn’t seem very moved by your speech, the book disappearing from his hands as he crosses his arms once more. “Mm… Kay, then I’ll just pluck you out of the way. I mean, I don’t see what you’re getting at here, ‘tits. Sounds like you want me to do all the work for your fuck up.” He motions lazily with a hand towards the car, and boy if you weren’t ready to burst into tears before, you are now, because, honestly? He’s right. You’re the reason you’re in this mess. He’s clearly soaking up your suffering as well, a sly smile slowly spreading across his features as he sees you try to blink back tears of frustration.

He finally takes some pity on you. Well, what Adam would consider pity, at least. “What’s in it for me, huh?” He leers, taking a step over you. He towers over you easily, inhumanly tall. Whereas it intimidated you at first, now? It just pisses you off more, because it’s something else he has to lord over you. You don’t know why he does when he’s already some super powerful angel, according to him, but he clearly likes to put you in your place. Remind you you’re just some mortal human in a realm of other, shitty mortal humans.

So, when he asks what he gets out of this, you’re at a loss. You open your mouth, closing it, frowning. What could you offer someone like Adam? You peer up at him, not liking the way that sly grin on his face grows, somewhat leering even, now. “Well… What do you want?” You finally ask, and immediately regret it as his hand comes down to grope your ass. You squeak, more so from the grip than surprise, because really, you shouldn’t be surprised. “Something that’s not part of my body! I’m on my period, too.” You huff out, face and ears burning, and he immediately makes a face and retracts his hand.

“Hmmm…” He rubs his chin in thought, actual thought now, as he turns to pace. His wings are tucked back under his arms, which you keep meaning to ask it about because truthfully, you find it adorable. You didn’t think angels presented their wings like that, but it makes some sense. “Oh! What was that, fucking uuuhhh… Ice cream thing with the fudge in the middle? With all that candy shit on top?” He snaps his fingers, looking back at you. You draw a blank, briefly, before recognizing what he’s talking about.

“You mean… A blizzard?” You ask, slowly, and he grins, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, yeah! Buy me one of those and I guess we’ll call it the start to being even.” He states, and your eye twitches again.

“The ‘start’?” You emphasize, and Adam just waves his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, the other thing I phone in will be somethin’ simple. Promise promise.” He insists, and at this point, you’re so desperate you don’t question it. You did say you wanted ice cream, after all… You’re also sure he wouldn’t ask for anything absurd either.

“...Fine.” You relent, motioning him over as you make some room to push the car once more. He pushes you out of the way, though, with one of his brilliantly golden wings, causing you to sputter as some of the feathers poke into your mouth and nostrils.

“Get in the car, bitch. Guide us over to a pump.” He orders, and a huff leaves you, but you don’t resist. You’ll gladly take sitting in the car and turning the wheel over pushing with massive manual labor. Once in the driver's seat, you begin to turn the wheel enough to pull into one of the pump stations. Adam is… Freakishly strong, to no surprise, and it honestly feels like you’re actually driving with how fast the car is going. Driving at an incredibly slow speed, but one nonetheless. When you finally stop at a pump, you put the car in park with a sigh, feeling significantly more relieved and less stressed.

You get out, locking it up as you head for the gas station store. “Uh, you’re fuckin’ welcome!” You hear Adam scoff, and you suppress a roll of your eyes if only because he did actually help you out.

“Thank you, Adam.” You relent, turning around. “So very kind of you, I would be at a loss without you.” Is tacked on at the end, and he just smirks, strutting over to you.

“I know. I’m the best. Doncha forget it, sugartits.” He responds as a sigh leaves you.

“You want a snack?” You offer out, deciding to play nice, and he grins.

“Uh, fuck yes.” He agrees, perking up even more as you both walk into the convenience store. You decide to get an electrolyte drink for yourself, since you’re feeling awfully thirsty and tired. Adam grabs some beef jerky, and as you go to the counter to pay, he speaks up. “Shit, wait, hold on– I want those cheesy crackers.” He states, and you roll your eyes but wait as the cashier rings up your other items. You hold your hand out as Adam comes back over, taking the bag in your hand to offer up to the cashier, digging through your wallet to get out something to pay

When you realize the bag hasn’t been taken out of your hand, you look up, confused. The cashier looks at you, his eyes wide, mouth agape. “Um…” You shift, awkwardly. Did you have something on your face?

“The fuck is this guy’s problem?” The angel barks out behind you, and you set the bag down, watching the cashier’s eyes follow it incredulously. Your brow furrows, before you suddenly put two and two together.

“Oh, shit,” You utter out in realization. Adam had given you that bag. And you were the only one who could see Adam. Oh God, that isn’t good.

“This guy have shit-for-brains? Seriously, if he stares any longer, he’s gonna start drooling, and–” You shift your leg back, pressing down somewhat firmly onto Adam’s foot. “Hey, bitch, watch where you’re stepping! You just–” You turn around to face him, but purposefully look right through him. Towards where he’d grabbed the bag, and then you tap it slightly. You hope he can get it through his thick skull what you’re trying to imply. “...Ooohhh…” It finally dawns on him, his eyes widening as he looks at the isle, and then at you, then at the worker. “Oh, shit.” He echoes you, before he briskly moves you aside again with his arm. “Move, bitch, let me handle this.”

He stands in front of the worker, snapping his fingers in front of the cashier’s face, a puff of golden dust emanating from his hand. The other human blinks, a glazed look coming over his eyes as he stares at nothing in particular now. “Okay, let’s go, he won’t remember a thing.” Adam urges, and you stutter. You barely have time to slap down some money on the counter and grab your things before you’re shuffled outside. You’re antsy as you pay at the pump and put in your gas, and when you’re filled up enough you get in the car and drive off.

“You can’t just do shit like that, Adam!” You finally speak up once you’re driving away, the firstborn lounging in your backseat due to just being too big to sit up front.

“I fuckin’ forgot, okay!?” He huffs out, his wings fluffing out indignantly as he sprawls out. You slap one of his wings back as it curls forward and brushes against your head and neck, not only making you shiver, but blocking you from seeing out your review mirror and back window.

“Wings down in the car, what have I said before!?” You chastise, and he just scoffs, sitting up, hunching forward as he rests an arm on your middle console.

“Jeeze, chillax, babes! I wiped his mind, he’s not going to remember it, why you still got your panties in a twist?” He sneers, and you growl out, carefully maneuvering to grab one of the horns on his head to push it down more. “Hey, hey, hey, fuckin’ watch the mask, bitch! You don’t get to manhandle the original dick!”

“I can’t fucking see with your giant ass head in the way!” Your clipped response comes out, before you realize something. “Wait– This is a mask?” You’re still holding onto one of the horns, and shake it a bit. He growls out and swats your hand away, which you don’t fight against as you put your hand back on the wheel.

“Pfft, uh, yeah? What, did you think this was actually my face?” He’s resting his head on the console now, pointing to his apparent mask, smirking up at you. You flounder, briefly, mouth opening, before it closes.

“...I mean. Honestly? Yeah. You eat with it. How does that even work!?” You glance at him, eyes wide, and his smirk just lengthens.

“Angelic magic, ‘tits. Fancy as fuck and cooler than anything you mortals got down here in your sorry realm.” He enlightens, and you don’t have a smart comeback for that because he’s right.

“...Pretty cool, actually. Can I have one someday?” You ask, and he curls himself back, splaying out once more across your car’s back seats.

“Maaaaybe. Usually only the big dogs like me get somethin’ this sick.” He responds, shifting multiple times to try and get comfortable. You just roll your eyes as you pull up to the drive-thru, waiting your turn, before glancing back at him.

“Can I see your real face?” You decide to inquire, and he raises a brow at your question, now chewing none-too-quietly on some beef jerky.

“Uh, you wanna owe me more?” He snorts, and you just scoff in reply, looking ahead as you pull up a bit more.

“Didn’t realize I’d have to owe you for you taking your mask off.” You mutter out, and he laughs somewhat, sitting up with another fluff of his wings. You don’t call him out on it for now since you’re just sitting in line.

“Can’t get something for nothing, babes. Not a whole lotta people get to see the OG’s face, and I don’t think some fuckin’ mortal is gonna see it.” He chews some more on his snack, and you hold your hand out for a piece. He glares at you, before relenting and handing you a small strip, which you gnaw on to sate your hunger. May as well pick up dinner here too, then.

“I’m just ‘some fuckin’ mortal’ to you?” You scoff in response, placing a hand to your chest in faux offense. “I thought what we had was special, Adam!” He rolls his eyes at your theatrics, flicking your head, and you scowl in response.

“Nah, you ain’t special, bitch. Well, I guess you are maybe a little. After all, not everyone’s guardian is–”

“The original dick, yeah, yeah, I get it.” You grouse, and now he looks offended that you interrupted him, before shrugging it off because clearly what he’s saying means something. He goes quiet, though, as you pull up to order. You get him a blizzard, and yourself some ice cream as well as dinner.

“Hey, wait, I want something else!” He whines, shoving his head forward once again, and you frown, looking at him. God, how much could he eat? “Gimme uhhh… That! And, oh, also that!” He’s pointing at items on the menu, moreso the pictures, and you glare at him. You can’t speak, as the woman through the speaker could still hear you, and he just looks at you. “What? Order, bitch, there’s people behind you!” You just continue to glare, and he glares back, eyes squinting. “Uggghh, what do you want from me? I can’t fuckin’ pay, I don’t have your stupid Earth money.” Still silence. The woman at the speakers asks if you want anything else, and you tell her to hold on as you stare Adam down.

He taps his finger on your console impatiently, before groaning and throwing his head back. “Fine! This can be the other part of what you owe me.” He sighs out, and you decide to cut your losses and accept that. You turn back to the speaker, ordering what he wants as well, before driving forward, waiting for the car ahead of you to get their food.

“Do you think I’m made of money or something? I’m barely making ends meet.” You speak up, finally, rubbing one of your eyes as you try to stave off the tired ache in your body. Your cramps are starting to kick back up, too, and that’s definitely not helping.

“Sounds like a you problem.” Is all Adam replies as he leans back again, and your jaw grits.

“It is a me problem, so I can’t keep buying you stuff you probably get for free up in Heaven!” You growl out, irritation with him flaring once more. Asshole is so ungrateful… Why did you even buy him anything? “Do you even have to pay rent in Heaven?” You then ask, and he laughs.

“Fuck no!” He grins, before pausing. “Well, sorta. You get like, a free place and whatever, but if you want somethin’ bigger and better you gotta pay for it.” He explains, and you frown at that.

“So, wait. You do gotta work in Heaven?” You blanch, because that sounds awful. Great, you have something to not look forward to even after you die, now. Well, if you want to Heaven, anyways… You have a guardian angel, so you assume that you will, but Adam is hardly angel material. In fact, you’re starting to wonder if this is a test from the Heavens, seeing how much good will you have to not snap and throttle your guardian…

“Sorta?” He gives the same response, picking at his teeth– Mask?-- With his pinky. He doesn’t even look at you. “You don’t gotta. You can just walk around and do whatever you want, but some stuff you gotta actually pay for. Luxuries, like certain entertainment, shops, establishments… You get the idea.” He finally looks at you, resting his hands on his stomach as he leans against the door of your car.

You turn back ahead as the vehicle in front of you pulls forward. “Huh…” You mutter, thoughtful. Well, you hoped you could at least be good at something else in Heaven, because you were definitely not wanting to do the job you had currently up after crossing the pearly gates. You hand your card over to the cashier to pay, and put all the food in the front seat. Adam subtly reaches for his blizzard, which you slap his hand away subtly. No way you’re driving around with what would look like a floating ice cream to everyone else. He pouts, but doesn’t complain, and you drive off after you have everything.

The distance from your apartment to the fast food place you just stopped at is short, and already worn out by today’s events, you just opt to turn on the radio and listen to music. Adam takes over, of course, turning it onto some barely withstandable hard rock as he jams out in the back seat with an air guitar. You try and not let any tired, resting bitch face take over, but it’s so, so difficult to. Once you park in your spot, it’s already decently late. It’s dark out, and you don’t see anyone else around, so you let Adam help you carry your food.

You look up, able to see your balcony from where you’re standing, and grimace at the thought walking three stories. The elevator it is, then, you decide with a heavy sigh. “Alright, up ya go.” Adam suddenly speaks up, and you’re confused, until you feel an arm wrap around your middle.

“What do you– meeeeeaaaannn!” You suddenly shriek out as his wings flare, and he pushes himself and you effortlessly upwards with a beat of them. Seconds later, you land on your balcony with him, trembling, cold and startled at the sudden interaction.

“Theeeere ya go, sweet-tits, saved ya some time, didn’t I? I know, I know, I’m the greatest.” He grins, puffing out of existence, before he reappears inside of your house. He unlocks your sliding door, and you walk in, still more pale before and slow. “Pfft, you should see the look on your face. Hilarious. I’ll have to do that more often.”

“You– You know you can’t!” You sputter out, glaring at him as you set down the food you’re holding, putting your hands on your hips. He just looks at you, boredly, as he tosses some fries in his mouth.

“Wassa big deal? Nobody saw.” He speaks through chewing, and you wrinkle your nose, turning around and shutting the door while you pull the blinds closed.

“What if somebody did see, though!? And we didn’t even know! This is the age of technology, Adam, anyone could be filming for any reason!” You counter, watching in irritation as he flops down on the giant beanbag you have in your small living room in lieu of a couch.

“Even if someone did see it, nobody would believe it. I know those fake ass videos that circulate all the time online of some mysterious shit happening which is obviously just not real.” He seems extremely unbothered by this, which is somewhat concerning. That meant either you were really getting up in arms about this for no reason, or he just didn’t want to admit to making a mistake. You’d heard the phrase ‘angels don’t make mistakes’ or something similar quite a few times from him. You just shoot him a glare as he waves a hand and magics over your remote as he flips the TV on, munching on the food he got.

“Food’s gonna get cold if you don’t eat, babes.” He chirps out, flicking through channels, and you pinch the bridge of your nose and utter under your breath. You never win any arguments with him. Why do you even bother? With a sigh, you grab your food and sit next to him on the beanbag. It’s normally enough to fit at least three or four people, but with how large Adam is, it looks like it’s really just meant for two people. You sit cross legged as you eat, another silence finally lapsing between the both of you. Adam can’t shut up most of the time, and even while he’s eating he’s making quips at the show you’re watching.

“Fuckin’ women argue so much, why did they make a show about it?” He comments while he chews, and you click the remote to see what you’re even watching with a roll of your eyes. The Real Housewives. Great. This one isn’t even set in your area.

“I think it’s all fabricated.” You comment in response. Adam’s done with his food, eating his ice cream, and you’re almost finished with your main meal.

“Why? Wouldn’t it be more interesting if it was real beef?” He scoffs, and you shrug.

“Well, yeah, but rarely is it actually as entertaining as this.” You motion to the screen, grimacing as you see one of the women throw a fork at the other. This was so dumb. Adam seems to agree, as he snorts and changes the channel.

When you’re both completely finished eating, you lounge with him. It’s a bit strange, you admit, having your supposed ‘guardian angel’ just relaxing with you. He’s a divine being; The first man! Yet he’s here, kicking back on your beanbag like he’s some buddy of yours. You don’t tell him to get out, though, because deep down, despite how much of an awful prick he can be… you kinda like the company. You have friends, sure, but they’re all busy with their own lives. Adam? You’re not entirely sure what his life in Heaven is like. You don’t know his responsibilities, but it must not be much if he can just come down here and kick it with you whenever.

You try to drown these contemplative thoughts out with television, but you find it difficult to do as another pang lights your stomach. You groan out, shifting a bit, rubbing at the cramps. Right, you’d nearly forgotten about those. You should go and put something on for the blood, but… Goddamn you don’t wanna get up. Instead, you just roll around slightly on the beanbag, groaning, trying to get comfortable. Adam, blissfully, doesn’t say anything. At first, at least. When you finally moan out in pain, though, and your head slumps against his arm, he scoffs, lifting his arm to look down at you. Your head thumps against his side.

“The fuck you makin’ so much noise for?” He complains, and you pout, mildly glaring at his crass attitude.

“Told you earlier, on my period… Cramps reeaaallly blow.” You utter out, somewhat muffled due to your cheek resting against his side.

“Sucks to suck, woman.” He sneers, and you resist the urge to bite him. Just barely. Your glare certainly says enough, though.

“Please tell me there’s no periods in Heaven.” You sigh as you roll onto your back, peering up miserably at the angel next to you.

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ in his response, and you sigh in relief. “Actually, I can just make it so you don’t have it anymore.” He suddenly mentions, and you gasp, sitting up to look at him.

“What? Really?” You grin in excitement at the thought, and he looks at you slyly.

“Yeeep. Only for about nine months at a time, though.” He looks back at his gloved nails, and you tilt your head in confusion.

“That’s… Oddly specific. Why?” You ask, curious. He narrows his eyes at you, grin never leaving his face as he waggles his eyebrows at you. A heated warmth blossoms fiercely across your cheeks and body as you suddenly understand what he’s insinuating.

“Stop being so horny!” You growl out, shoving him as he starts laughing, slapping you with his wing as you stumble to your feet.

“Hey! You know how many chicks are lining up to ride original dick?” He finally huffs out after he’s finished with his laughing fit, pointing down at his crotch.

“I can imagine not very many if you’re here pestering me, still.” You roll your eyes, and his wings flare out in anger at that as he gets up.

“You got no fuckin’ idea! Bitches and groupies are lining up to see me after a show, and even on the streets. I’ve been looking after you for like– What– a few months? You haven’t gotten laid once, so you can cut the cool act and just start begging whenever you want. You’ll be thanking me after.” He insists, waving his arms about as his wings give a beat of frustration. It knocks over a paper mache piece one of your friends made for you, and nearly bowls your cat off of his feet as he comes strolling into the room, although he seems none the wiser to what the wind actually was. You just offer Adam a hard stare as you swoop down to pick up the paper mache, setting it neatly back where it was.

“Is that even allowed?” You can’t help but to ponder, never having of really broached the topic with him. Sure, he was usually horny around you. Made innuendos and suggestive comments(occasional groping), but he’d never actually really tried anything.

“Is what allowed?” He’s gotten distracted by your cat, squinting at him as he strolls about your living room, sticking his head into the now empty paperbag of one of your meals.

“You fucking…” You try to think of what you are to him. You don’t know the term, so instead you just settle on, “Me?”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. I’m Adam.” Comes his smug response, an equally smug look on his face as his arms cross and he peers down at you. Okay, that’s not a… Real answer, but you suppose you’re not going to get a real answer out of him. You open your mouth, before closing it, deciding to wave him off, uttering that you’ll be back. You head into your bathroom, finally grabbing something to help your blood flow. You also decide to take something to alleviate your cramps a bit, and when you walk back into your main room, you hear Adam. “Hey, pussy, that’s mine!” You walk over, seeing Adam crouched over your cat, glaring at him as he snacks on a fry from inside the bag. So much for being empty.

He then deftly takes the fry from your cat, sticking his tongue out at him as the feline meows pitifully, confused at the fry dangling from nothing in front of him. “Hey, don’t be mean! He found that fair and square, give it back!” You counter, walking over and snatching the fry out of Adam’s fingers. The angel scowls at you as you toss the fry back down for your little boy to consume, and you pet him lovingly.

“Don’t think a cat is supposed to eat that shit.” He grimaces, and you just shrug.

“He can have a little treat. It’s okay.” You decide, picking up the rest of the empty bags and containers as you move to throw them away. “You staying the night or something?” You can’t help but to tease Adam. He doesn’t normally hang around you for this long. In fact, you’re pretty sure he’s only supposed to be here when you’re in real trouble, but you’re not entirely sure what defines that. Maybe he has some premonition about when you’ll get in trouble, so perhaps that’s why he’s sticking around.

“Why, you want me to?” He arches his brows again, and you roll your eyes, not gracing him with a response. “No way, I got shit to do back up top. I’m important, you know, can’t just spend all the time hangin’ out with some mortal. Much as you’d like me to, I know I know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” You utter under your breath, and before he has a moment to ask what you said, you pipe up, “Are you even allowed to be doing this? Just like, hanging out? And, no,” You start as he opens his mouth to reply. “I don’t want to hear ‘I’m Adam, I can do what I want’ because really that holds no ground.”

“Uh, the fuck it doesn’t! It holds all the ground.” He scoffs. “You may hate the answer, but it’s the truth, babes. Heaven is way better than this shithole you live in, but sometimes it gets so booooring. You guys keep it fresh down here.” He grins, somewhat wicked as he advances towards you, before pausing. “Oh, shit, you know what you should do?” You offer him an uncertain look. “Go to a concert! Or festival! They fuckin’ rock down here.” He throws up the devil’s horns.

“And… Why would I do that?” You frown.

“So I can watch, duh.” He crosses his arms, and you just raise a brow.

“Can’t you just go fly to a concert somewhere and watch it?” You inquired, flopping back down on your beanbag with a grimace as another cramping spasm rips through your body.

“Not really, nah. If I come down to Earth, I’m basically tied to you. Gotta stick around you within a certain area sorta deal.” He explains, and you make a small noise of surprise. You suppress the urge to say, ‘I thought you were Adam and could do whatever you wanted’, but you don’t because you don’t want him going off on a rant about it.

“Well, I’ll think about it. Concerts aren’t really my thing.” You admit, trying to decide one what to watch the rest of the night. Your cat comes up, purring as he settles on your stomach, and you groan out at the pressure it applies.

“You should make it your thing and stop being so fucking boring” He huffs.

“If I’m so boring then why did you hang around me for so long today?” You stick your tongue out as part of your response, and Adam’s wings fluff up and flare at the accusation. He opens his mouth to respond, then closes it, eyes narrowing along with his brows.

“Because… Free food, that’s why. Fuck you, later loser!” He flips you the bird again with both hands this time, sticking his own tongue out, before he’s gone in a puff of golden glitter. It sizzles around you, falling to the ground as it disperses, and you sigh out. You pet your cat, laying your head back on the beanbag.

“...Hope you don’t think I’m crazy.” You rumble to your cat as you scratch him behind the ears. It’s just you and him, now, and you don’t know when Adam will pop up again. You realize, with a pang in your chest, that you miss him already. What a dangerous game you were playing, talking so freely with your divine guardian.

#reader insert #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin adam x reader #reader #you

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mundanemoongirl · 2 months

Note

Huh… really interesting to read that you think Sel is more trope than character when it seems like that’s how everyone feels about Nick. I have always felt weird about not really being into Sel. We have seen the brooding, dark haired love interest a million times.

Exactly my thoughts. I never really liked that type of character to begin with. I think people don’t see Sel as a trope because 1. they eat that trope up and 2. they think being morally gray means a character has depth. They do not, in fact, have depth. They are all copy and pastes of each other.

I actually rolled my eyes when Sel was first introduced because these characters are so predictable. They all start off hated by the FMC (yet she always ogles him). They all hurt people, including her. But they all also do some nice things which makes them immediately forgivable in the FMC’s and audience’s eyes. For years I’ve been wondering why these characters are so popular in books made for girls in their formative years. Why are we trying to teach them to love men that hurt them?

About Nick, I think he seems like a trope because Deonn wrote him off in order to give Sel a romance arc. He could have had so much more depth than Sel with the identity crisis thing going on, but then the romance Deonn wanted wouldn’t have worked.

I try to write MMCs more like Nick. I will admit it is challenging to create a character who is both nice and compelling, but there are ways to make it work. And we need to make it work. We need more diverse storytelling than falling back on what everyone else is doing, and we need to move past the internalized misongyny that keeps making its way into books made for girls.

I hope the girlies aren’t too mad about this take.

#legendborn #books and reading #black books #character tropes #writing tropes #writers thoughts #black writers

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its-actually-minicika · 2 years

Text

The Harshest Winters (18+!)

Part 4;;

Pairing(s): Jacaerys x Reader x bookcanon Aemond;

Warnings: all of them lmao - dubious consent, canon typical violence, lack of Jacaerys, death, blood and gore, Aemond - who forces the reader into holy matrimony in this one (oh yes it's happening), and of course engages in petty masturbation (it's not THW without him going ham on his own hand ♡)

Word Count: 15k+ (wowza i know)

Author's Note: Low and behold, part 4 is here!! Originally, this was supposed to be a 4 parts series, but that obviously isn't the case anymore. THIS TOOK SO LONG AND I'M SO SORRY - I had major issues with the tag list, and at some point, tumblr wouldn’t let me post this; I unfortunately couldn't solve those problems, no matter how hard I tried, so most of you haven't been properly tagged :") This update is a hot mess, and I haven't actually had the time to read through all the paragraphs that I wrote. I SHALL BE BACK TO EDIT

A huge thank you to everyone who's still following the story, though, and I hope you enjoy!

A war is in its midst.

When everyone else is readying themselves for the following decisive battles, you and Aemond are busy playing house.

Things get heated in Harrenhal, and one must decide when and where to pick their side.

The contact of the hot water upon Aemond’s ivory skin made the man shudder in naught but blinding pain. Achingly slow movements, followed by slow grunts echoed throughout the room – and Lady Tully stilled upon the silken sheets, moving her eyes over the book’s page for the thousandth time since he returned; thus driving all her peace away.

The baths Aemond determinedly took in the raptures of the late-night hours never failed to make her uncomfortable, and keep her on edge. Even so, being forced to hear the pained man move with such little stability and lack of confidence almost teetered the girl to the brink of madness.

Harrenhal had been in shambles since its proud conqueror beckoned his return on dragon back that very eve. Two young maids shouted for maesters, and Alys Rivers nearly caused a scene. As he got off his leather saddle, the Prince all but collapsed from tiredness and blood loss.

'He commanded his features to turn brave and taciturn,' his paramour had told her, 'as to not let a single hint of his condition spread throughout the Keep. My poor Aemond.'

The fool had been reached by an arrow.

An impressive feat, one had to agree – and wonder further on the identity of the courageous shot.

‘Struck right between his shoulder blade and chest,’ she had heard some lost girl utter, ‘It is a miracle he’s still alive.’

… Or the Gods’ cruelest punishment, the Lady compelled within her thoughts.

“Mmhh…” Aemond’s rugged breath deterred the girl to raise her glassy orbs from the confinement of the wilting pages. She schooled her eyes to stay above any level of indiscretion, and gingerly followed the trail of blood mixed with dirt, that seeped into and dirtied the once clear water.

Now that her curiosity was quenched, she could freely look away again.

Half a heartbeat later, she relented and surrendered in the face of his quarrelsome state. The Prince bit the inside of his cheek again, and raised his hand up to allow droplets of liquid to trail past his wounded shoulder… but to no avail.

“You could call in a maid, you know.” Her raspy voice descended upon his struggling body. Sooner than she may have liked, the Bliss of Riverrun closed her eyes, and concentrated on the languid noises that the Prince was making.

Seconds felt like pending minutes, until Aemond One-Eye graced her with a reply.

“I don’t need a maid to help me.”

Then that was that, the young woman soon concluded, returning her attention to the opened book.

'The Philosophies of the Riverlands', however, provided little to no aid to the situation at hand – and her overall station.

For she knew, perhaps far too well, that she had to play a different game than the one they'd engaged in, months prior to her imprisonment in that cursed place.

Insufferable man… she vexed him cruelly inside her head, I hoped by now you would be dead.

She raised one leg from the mattress that embedded her, and shifted it, so as to allow her limbs to hang lowly by the edge of the bed. Her thoughts formed and went as they pleased, but the girl settled on one final reach.

He hadn't even allowed Alys to help him undress. Suggesting her now was a deliberate waste of her time.

Not only that, but she still had to win his trust. Somehow, she promised herself, no matter what it takes, she'd do it.

Forcibly she rose from the bed, and made her way slowly towards his wide basin, fixating her eyes on the stone floor ahead. Her throat closed in on itself, and the girl pursed her lips into a tight line, whilst exhaling through her nose. It took a while for her to calm herself.

"... What about me?" She asked in a leveled tone.

Her gaze met his piercing orb, and the Lady nearly took a small step back. His face long washed the wave of shock from his sharp, Targaryen features – Aemond awaited her next words with a quirked up brow and a slight bite o'r his inner cheek. He seemed more than interested in her meek suggestion.

His wordless approval had left her speechless and, for a while, only her heartbeat emerged in her ears.

The Prince Regent trailed his eye hungrily over her extended arm. He took in a sharp breath as she grasped the rough sponge from his hand, and drained it of the putrid smell. She confidently brought it up to him – and teasingly trailed it over his hard chest, down to his lower abdomen, up again to his slouching shoulder.

"This… will hurt you a little bit." She whispered to him, skillfully averting her face from the man in question.

He gritted his teeth harshly, and almost let out a groan from his parted lips – with his dexterous and long fingers, he gripped the edge of the wooden basin, but dared not to look away from the kneeling Lady – choosing, instead, to focus on singling out her every soft and hard feature.

On her end, (Y/N) dabbed the piece of cloth over his wound gently, chanting inside her head to remain small and taciturn.

He shan't get more of a reaction from me, she promised herself through the span of an agonized huff, as she focused in on the task at hand.

Aemond's white skin revealed itself from the washed patches of dirt, and the Prince sighed a deep breath of contentment, as he felt his body be unintentionally caressed by her. His eye fluttered close, and a slight furrow of his tantalizing brow indicated the uncommon pleasure he took from their sporadic intimacy.

The two remain in awkward silence - the only noise that reached the girl's ears being the rattle of water and the occasional hiss from Aemond.

"... I'm sorry." She strained herself to whisper, whilst her hair fell seemingly out of place. "This looks as if it's painful."

The Prince Protector mirrored her stance, and glanced at her through the thick curtain of long, silver hair – the lilac in his eye complimenting the heatwaves of fire that danced across his marred skin.

"It's not painful." His gruff voice echoed in reply.

"... You –" The Lady began, but stopped on her tracks to level her voice again, by the aid of coughing in the back of her hand.

"You don't have to pretend in my company, you know."

She graced him with a forced smile, one she hoped seemed light enough to fool him. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't make fun of you."

Her eyes trailed over to the harsh stone floor, wrinkling at their sharpened ends – "When I was three and ten," she began, "My youngest brother betted against one of the stable boys: that he could ride faster than anyone on his horse, Middle." Her eyes spasmed close at the memory, and the girl wistfully smiled to herself, "The fool scraped his knees in that dreadful race. Middle threw him right out of his expensive saddle."

As she spoke, she brought the rough cloth over Aemond's shoulder blade, right above his wound, and began scrubbing the dirt that adorned over his skin.

"He didn’t want anyone to know what had happened, so he made me clean it, in the stead of a maester." The Lady let out an airy laugh, as her nose scrunched up with a pang of fondness. "I have never seen a boy get so worked up over a simple scratch before."

Aemond hummed in admission – half relieved by the distraction she was offering, and half worried by the impending pain he would soon feel. He shifted from inside the basin, as if to reach for the sponge in her hand himself, but the girl simply laid her hand away.

Her musings came to an abrupt end. She retreated on her steps lightly, and offered the Crown Prince a quirked-up brow.

"You need to stay put, Prince Aemond. Otherwise, I risk causing you more harm than good." She swallowed thickly, and only shook her head, "Your wound needs thorough cleaning, Your Grace. And it is too far in the back for you to clean it by yourself."

She glanced at his face anew, and let out a tumbling sigh as he nodded his head again, trying his hardest to relax into her touch once more.

Part of him remained put up – the bulk of his chest and shoulders still gloriously hunched over, ready to bolt up at any given moment.

"... I hate to admit it. I thought he was exaggerating then – with the discomfort which he feigned was feeling."

Her lips pursed into a tight line, as she glanced quickly at the laying man, "But how can one make fun of another's state of pain?"

A sympathetic look was shared between them.

Her eyes softened in admission to his furrowed brows and descended features. In that exact light, she couldn’t help but notice how much he resembled her Jace.

"Pain makes us human. And it's a reminder for us: to really cherish our times of incandescent joy."

The break of a cold sweat kissed over Aemond's forehead; droplets of which gathered at the base of his left eye, where his leather eyepatch stayed secured.

The girl pushed down a disdainful puff, as her eyes trailed him over, from the rosy blotch of skin, back to his hawk-like eye.

"Leather retains heat." She murmured before she could catch herself.

The Targaryen Prince expelled a deep breath, and, as her hand came to rest over the buckle that secured his patch into place, he primed his lips into a downturned arch.

"It can't be good for you to always keep it on."

"The sight of it frightens others. I don't want it to frighten you."

"I've seen you without your eyepatch before."

"That was different. This time… is different."

The latter of his words sent a shiver down her bent spine. Nothing is different, she was aching to say. Her lips pressed anxiously together, and the girl offered Aemond a curt nod. Just as she was about to pull her hand away from the nape of his neck, the Prince's wet palm came up to stop her.

His fingers shakily entwined with hers. The deep callouses of his hand scratched the softness of her open palm.

For a while, Time herself froze before them.

(Y/N) came to avert her gaze, but Aemond's eye feverishly searched for the relieving clash of hers. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the Lady of Riverrun nearly choked onto the clogged-up air.

His silver locks curled slightly at their ends – the dampness of the room striking its claim over his perfectly straight strands of hair. In his own right, Aemond could be called beautiful. His striking Targaryen features might have ensured the favor of many young maidens, were it not for his rash and impetuous attitude, the bite that rested in his character – which no doubt spread like a disease over his life at Court.

"Look at me." Against his better judgment, and his innermost turmoil, Aemond allowed her small fingers to trail over the buckle of his blinder again. He drew out a comforting sigh, and, with her hand still in his, gently slid the leather off.

He sucked in a quiet breath, as the coldness of the air enveloped his throbbing eyelids.

The poise in his composure was cracking at the seams, with the passing of each second, during which she settled to remain silent.

Eventually, her hand came to rest over his face again. Her dexterous fingers began to leisurely wipe the sweat from his brow, his eye, by submerging them into the lukewarm water, and bringing them over and over to his clenched face.

"I'm sorry." She settled on to say instead, once the breaching of kind words failed to meet her. "No one deserves to be left without an eye. No one deserves such appalling cruelty."

"You appear to be sorry an awful lot this evening, My Lady." Aemond choked under his breath, taken aback by her gentle movements and sainty utter.

"I spend the better part of my days in the company of my own thoughts." She huskily reminded him, "... It's been increasingly easier for me to reflect on my past mistakes."

Wordless from her hoax admission, and desperate to feel her hands explore him further, the Targaryen Prince rose heavily from the dirtied water – his chest coming directly to her field of vision.

The girl let out a cutting gasp, as she turned swiftly on her heel, refusing to glance at his modesty, not any longer than she'd already had.

Her eyelids fluttered close, and she shifted from one foot to the other, but to no avail. For in spite of her desire to run away, the Lady found herself hammered in place.

The proximity between them laid out to be a problem – Aemond let out a frustrated sigh, and turned her head around with the clasping of his untouched arm. Two of his fingers came to rest at the base of her cheek and chin; the Prince let out a satisfied hum, as her body trembled in slight shock at their change of position.

"Gevie…" He muttered to no one but himself.

His cock stood proudly at attention, kissing over his prominent abdomen, trailing long past his belly button. Every now and then, white pearls pooled to the base of his length, weeping from his angry tip, trailing past his stones in the reach of the water below him.

"Look at me." He breathed again, and his sweet Lady obeyed.

She threw him a dejected look: half harsh and cold, half hardened and scorned. The tips of her ears matched the redness of her pale cheeks. Her eyes cast their curious glow throughout every corner of the room, yet stayed away from the scorn of indiscretion that called out to her, only centimeters below her swollen lips.

Aemond's thumb flicked once over her crimson labium, but the man sighed, seemingly discouraged, and settled upon gripping her dainty wrist instead.

"Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, issa dōna jorrāelagon. Nyke kivio ao naejot sagon gīda."

The gentleness that oozed from his voice could have had anyone fooled. But not her. The translations of the words he muttered against the skin of her wrist were lost on her, but the Lady of Riverrun still singled out a most protruding word.

He had never failed to call her 'his tormenting love'.

The girl's breath rose and fell with each agonizing word that befell over her face.

"Mēre tubis ao jāhor jaelagon issa." Aemond sighed against her wrist.

'I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin. I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin. I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin.'

Her words rang harsh and true inside her head – and, much like it was back then, her heart harbored no honorable intent towards the Trident's Terror.

He burnt your entire homeland, she chastised herself harshly, He killed thousands. Every day, even more find their end by the breath of his dragon. By the way of his wrath.

The ache in her heartbeat rang loudly inside her ears – her every pore aligned with her wish to run away, and her mind was screaming at her to retreat to a corner.

Comparing him to Jacaerys was a laughable feat.

"Let's… just finish getting you cleaned up, Your Grace" She struggled to finally suggest out loud, through the timid inflection of her outwardly calm voice.

She slithered her face away from his grasp, and began draining the sponge of the dark mud again.

Aemond sighed, and lowered himself back into the cold water – his lone eye never leaving the mould of her smaller frame.

"I heard that conversation… sometimes distracts the ill from the discomfort of the cleaning process, Your Grace."

Now turned to his exposed back, the girl's hand wavered over his punctured shoulder. She waited three, perhaps four seconds, before her arm finally breached contact with the wounded flesh.

Aemond took in a sharp breath, but remained otherwise silent, until she prompted him to speak again.

"How… how did such a thing even come to happen?"

Aemond's chest rose and fell with each labored pant. His eye remained tightly closed, his jaw awfully set. Her question registered into his mind, and a reply formed at the former base of his thoughts.

For a while, however, the One-Eyed Prince remained quiet – weighing the option of telling her the truth rather carefully.

"A Frey company was marching South." He hissed as her light hand came over his flesh, applying soft pressure in its wake. "The fog of the morning masked them from me – but Vhagar's shadow still went right above their heads."

The woman brought her free hand to rest over his lower back, and her fingers rubbed soothing circles into the dampness of his skin. "It was… very lucky that you didn't get more hurt."

She scorned herself inwardly, but kept her curiosity at bay. She wouldn’t ask him whether the company had risen victorious, or if he burnt all those men to the ground.

The latter option, in any case, seemed more than likely.

The Crown Prince tensed visibly, but didn’t scoot away from her soothing touch. A deep sigh parted from his cracked lips, and the man revelled at their sudden closeness.

He ached to talk to her, to plead with her to welcome him inside her heart – and into her bed. He could feel his own beat loudly, and his body trembled in unquenched lust and rage.

Still, he knew it was too soon for that.

Not once during their rash acquaintance, did the girl before he talk with so much interest about his day with him.

His thoughts trailed to Alys, and Aemond wondered if half her new admission was owed to her – if indeed the two women secured a friendship within the last two weeks, if his whore became her confidant, if she breathed in her trust in him.

He would have to talk to her later. Thank her, if he was feeling apt and generous.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in the shell of his ear, and the Targaryen Prince nibbled at his lower lip. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down; the coldness of the water gave him the strength to concentrate, by the sliding of small ripples down his exposed chest and abdomen. The ache of his wound was a small price to pay, if only to feel her knuckles working against his back.

"There we are. All done, Your Grace."

She rose up from her kneeling stance, wincing at the sudden change of perspective, and at the throb of her tired knees. She gingerly presented the clean set of clothes and bathing robes to him. Her head remained turned to the side, and her hand instantly let go of the heavy clothes, the moment his palm came into contact with them.

In the stead of returning to sit idly by their resting place, the woman graced him with a final look, and let out a faint mutter. "I'll leave you to it."

She wavered but a moment, and turned her stare to the ruined clothes; the ones that Aemond had so carelessly discarded on the floor, as he prepared for his undeserved nightly soak.

The shadow of a long-laid plan gleamed beneath her silent gaze.

"I can wash them for you tomorrow – after my bath. It might be wiser to keep the nature of your wounds hidden. The maids needn't worry over how much blood you lost."

Aemond's brows furrowed in slight shock, and the Prince remained wordless in the face of her sensible suggestion.

And yet her eyes spoke with so much sincerity, that he gleefully allowed the pang of hope to warm his unforgiving features.

"As you wish." He rumbled out, while forcing himself to move his stare to the folded clothes before him.

His eye trailed back to his hands' agile ministrations, and Aemond soon began to roll over his linen breeches, covering his half-hard cock with the help of the rough material.

A throaty groan etched from deep within his throat, however, as he reached for the pristine shirt.

The girl stopped in her tracks, and a deep scowl settled over her fair features.

The struggle he was undergoing would have been music to her ears – were it not for the solidarity of her position. For the millionth time that night, she reminded herself of her plan and her desperation to escape.

Thus, unbeknownst to her own better judgment, the Lady compelled herself to seek him further.

Although her words failed to assist her, the way she gingerly reached, with her hand wide and outstretched, made Aemond aware of her pending intent.

Their bodies were inches apart. The girl sucked in a hurried breath, and neglected to exhale it as the oxygen hit her lungs.

Aemond was burning up – and whether that was from the lack of fresh air within the confining room, or the first telltale sign of fever, or her – he was lost on saying anymore. His weakened arm slithered into the sleeve of his shirt, though the pain was long forgotten.

And instead of focusing on his poised movements, his glassy eye ran hungrily over her face and hypnotic features.

(Y/N)'s fingertips grazed over the light material. Her tired eyes softened at the familiar feeling. The threat of tears beckoned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them all away in a hasty movement. Melancholy ate away at her, far more often than she knew was wise to allow.

Still she remembered, if only for a moment, the raptures of Jacaerys' warm embrace. And how, in the heat of summer, that very same cloth felt against her heated cheek.

They must have had the same seamstress, the same tailor. Of course, she thought to herself in a bitter manner, after all, they are both Princes.

… Were.

But if she closed her eyes, she could pretend – No, she chastised herself fully, such a thing just cannot be. And you'd be a fool to attempt to it.

The magnetic pull between them trebly pried the two souls together. And it would be yet another minute, until (Y/N) finally took a step back, opening her mouth to announce the end of her intimate task.

Her eyes fell on the stone hard floor, and she carefully turned her back around him.

The long waves of her hair shifted over her modest nightgown, covering her mounds of flesh with a slight shift to the left.

"I'm going to sleep." She pathetically uttered, as the warmth that emanated from Aemond's form not moments prior, still fell heavily over her slight frame.

Mechanically she gripped the satin sheets and engulfed herself with them – a slight comfort came over her, as the coldness of the unused bedding fanned gently over her scorched limbs.

Aemond remained stuck in place, and a heaved breath rumbled from within his chest. The red in his cheeks would have put both their Houses' seals to shame – For once, he was glad she wasn't looking his way.

***

The rest of the night was spent in washed quietness.

And his Lady might have made it up: the dip at the edge of the bed, the smell of fresh pine and wildfire that caressed her in her sleepy state, and the slight "Thank you" that dabbled from her captor's lips.

“You plan to ride on dragon-back again? So soon?” The echo of Alys' voice carried her worry throughout the silent clearing.

The first rays of sunlight caught flame into her raven hair, lighting her features in such a way, that it accentuated her every perpetual scar and wrinkle. The fire inside her eyes could rival the one of a trueborn Targaryen, were it not for her strong outer appearance.

Aemond moved his body at a leisurely pace, not even bothering to throw the woman one of his usual vexing looks.

"Do you think dear nuncle will put a stop to the siege of the Twins, should the word spread about my condition?"

His cutting words rendered the woman speechless, and the Rivers witch simply clicked her tongue, whilst glancing at the green grass below her.

"War awaits no one, my dear." He asserted definitively, as he gripped onto Vhagar's long bridles.

The mighty beast let out a shaken roar, as Aemond winced once his wounded shoulder made light contact with her dark-green scales.

"Gīda ilagon, Vhagar. Sagon nykeēdrosa... Sȳz hāedar." He instinctively reached for her, and caressed her lower belly with one of his gloved hands.

At their calm exchange, Alys bit over her lower lip, harshly enough to draw her own blood. "You should stay." She managed to draw out, "At least a while – going in search of your uncle today, instead of tomorrow, won't make a difference to your brother's cause."

But her voice of reason reached deafened ears. For Aemond Targaryen was set on paying the debt he owed. The debt he agreed to take on, the moment his dragon clasped onto Lucaerys, swallowing the bastard whole.

"Everything matters at war, Alys." He hummed impatiently, while snapping his head in her general direction. "What do you think will happen to you, should Daemon reach Harrenhal? Your pretty head will rest near mine, impaled on a sharpened spike."

But if she told you to stay put, you would do just that, wouldn’t you? Her bitter thoughts chewed her conscious away.

Alys spat out a lowly curse, as she shifted uncomfortably in place. "Daemon Targaryen was here once, not long before you. He didn’t kill me then."

"Because you didn't matter back then." The Prince Protector of the Realm hissed through painfully gritted teeth, "You were no one to him. You were a wet nurse who merely spread her legs for him."

The man turned his back to her, as he wordlessly bound Vhagar's bridle over his wrist again and again.

"And last I checked, your cunt failed to inspire him."

Her mouth parted in a silent protest, and her green eyes widened in partial distress. "Still I should remain in luck," She choked out through a breathless laugh, "for it has never failed to inspire you."

"You are perfectly right," Aemond's laughter was humorless and brash, "And it is because of this loose cunt that Aegon nearly lost the support of Storm's End."

The Prince spun around on his heel's end, and trapped the woman in between his hard chest and restless dragon. "Sometimes I think you cost me more than you're worth." He whispered calmly into her ear, while trailing his index finger over the sharp edge of her jaw. "For speaking back to me, I could have you executed."

The finality of his words drew her body closer to the ancient beast, and Vhagar let out a displeased grunt. Amusement pulled at the corners of his downturned mouth.

"Still you should remain in luck," He mocked her with an airy laugh, "I find myself in an exceedingly good mood today."

The back of his hand came to play with a loose lock of her messy braid, and the Prince smiled at her stance and her bewildered look. "But you've been a most useful asset, haven't you, my dear?" He obliged her with a teasing smirk, "Lady Tully responded well to you, hasn't she? Tell me," He paused momentarily, as he trailed his hands to the narrow middle of her waist, and back up again. "Have you kept up your training with her?"

Alys' face fell into a frown, as she staggered a frustrated look. Aemond was toying with her.

"That dull book she pretends to read at night has the maps of three secret passages hidden amongst the latter pages. Two of them lead to that cell into the West Wing – but of course, she doesn't know that. The third one leads to the stables of Harrenhal."

Aemond hummed pleasedly, and the man soon took a wide step back, allowing his paramour enough space for proper breathing. "You did well." He smiled wistfully, "I should reward you well tonight. You may think of something you desire. I will see to it once I return."

"I would very much like you to stay and heal today." She urged him not a heartbeat later, surprising even herself with the intensity of her tone.

Aemond's composure broke with the licks of roaring laughter – one that was empty, and fell devoid of any feelings of fondness or grief.

"Think of something else." He urged her coolly, and dismissively pushed past her, to reach for his dragon's saddle.

"'Tis a good thing you shall never be a wife, Alys. The role of the worried wench doesn't suit you one bit."

"Keep feeding her half-truths and lies." He encouraged the woman with a final reach over her hand. He squeezed once over her balled-up fist – acting as both a promise, and a taciturn warning on what should happen, should she let him down again. "Regarding whatever else she may have to say… you'll report it back immediately."

With that, the Kinslayer of the Trident took off, leaving the promise of bone and ash behind his dragon's menacing ascend.

The Eyrie was, on all accounts, smaller even than Maegor's Holdfast. Inside the stronghold nestled the Arryns, hidden deep beneath the illusion of the smallest stronghold of the main seven Kingdoms. Despite its intermediate size, the Keep of the Giant's Lance deemed itself one of the safest places to be – Hardly a lie, especially now, Cain Waters ineptly hummed, once his wobbly feet carried him over the stoney threshold.

Despite its less-than-imposing size, and lack of sheer volume, (Y/N)'s sworn shield felt himself smaller than ever before.

How would he dare account for his whereabouts? Reason his shortcomings?

How could he hope to explain to his Lord that not only did he return empty-handed, without his beloved granddaughter on horseback – he returned without the notion of a hand at all?

Between the two strange figures with whom he traveled, it was Mira Florent who rested loyally by his side – her strength and stability allowing the Waters bastard to lean into her, if only for a fleeting moment, during the ascend of the narrow stairs.

"Take heart," She whispered, "Your Lord is a kind and understanding one. You won't be facing trial for this."

His mere reply was a solitary grunt, and a quick smile, dejectedly thrown her way.

Between the two strange figures with whom he traveled, Albar had remained behind. The mute man shrugged his head decidedly when Cain gestured towards the waiting castle, and Mira explained to him that the Vale scarcely left him feeling safe and wanted.

And he understood, perhaps far too well – the feeling of dejection a bastard boy felt, as he stepped foot into the land of his birth.

***

He'd been granted the comfort of a Maester and a hot soak, almost immediately after his appearance at the Arryns' Great Door.

The Lady of the Vale proved to be a kindred spirit, capable of great nurture, despite her lack of heirs to her family's ancestral throne. She gasped loudly at the sight of him. Her eyebrows furrowed in grave distraught, and her lower lip trembled as the healers informed her of the state of his right hand.

Her searching eyes reminded him of the ones of his own mother – neither particularly warm nor cold towards him, but fair and just in their own accord.

She almost decided against calling upon him to the Trouts' Black Council, but the young Oscar Tully had entirely different plans.

His eyes, as they were, were socketed by a deep, but elusive brown. They spoke and reminded him of a whole different tale than the one of his fair, poor Lady.

And it was Oscar's eyes, so similar in shape to hers, who bore ghastly holes into the back of Ser Cain's skull. His arm rose up, as if to cut off the man's retelling – his nostrils flared up in disgust, and his face twisted into a painful scowl.

"So what you're telling me… is that you failed to bring her back."

Cain's eyes hardened at her brother's words, and the knight nibbled on his lower lip, in an attempt to calm himself.

Although a brave and honest man, he dared not look in the eyes of Lord Grover Tully – he dared not see what lay beneath his wilted face. Thus, all his attention focused in on the chirping lass.

"Aye, my Lord." He mustered up to tell him, "I lost her to the One-Eyed Prince. We escaped Harrenhal, and managed to get as far as the Saltpans, but –"

The boy scoffed at his attempt to pardon and explain himself. He nodded affirmatively, and scrutinized Cain with his piercing gaze.

"You returned with an empty hand, Ser Cain. You failed: miserably."

His back straightened in an attempt to appear bigger, and the hot-headed lass rose from his chair in a hurling daze.

"Because of you, my sister is in the hands of that cycloptic freak. Because of you, we don't know anything about her whereabouts. She could be tortured, enslaved, sullied – worse!"

Lady Jane Arryn clicked her tongue in disbelief, and beckoned her guard to guide the boy back into a sitting stance.

"That is quite enough, Oscar." She asserted calmly, "We have no evidence of such a feat."

"Of course we don't!" The young Lordling huffed annoyedly, jolting on the brink of madness, "The deranged cripple wouldn't reply to any of our ravens!"

His face contorted animalistically, the freckles on his face being taken by the deep shade of crimson that coloured in his plumper cheeks. "And with you here, Waters, we don't even have the certainty that (Y/N) is still alive!"

"Oscar." Grover's deep voice echoed a warning through the quietness of the tiny Keep.

As if struck in the face, the youngest of the Tully brothers shifted in his seat again. "My sister's fate is breached unknown," He cried out in a collapsing tune, "She's our family, grandfather, my only sister! Pray tell, why does it look as if I'm the only one who gives a damn?"

The graying Lord and the narrow Lady both leaned towards a perplexing look. But before any of them could reply to his laid-out challenge, (Y/N)'s brother urged them further, as he hissed through his gritted teeth. "It would have been better for you not to return at all, Ser Cain. It would have been better for all parties involved to have sent me in his stead, Grandfather!"

His shoulders slouched forward, and the brazen boy fought with Grover's intense stare. "Had I failed, I wouldn’t have even returned at all." Oscar roared over the silent council, proclaiming his intent with a defying raise. "I would sooner have died, than see her be taken by that monster again."

"What would you have had me do, boy?!" Grover Tully raised his voice in turn, "You fool. Would you have had me send you away for her? Do you think your death would have made you a martyr?!"

Cain's lips pursed into a tight line, as the Riverlords before him bickered further. Even Lady Jane Arryn seemed to be left speechless, unsure of when or how to stop their arguing.

Family feuds were neither one's strongest suit.

"Do you think," His Grandfather uttered, "that if you were to die, anyone would remember you fondly?!" The red in his cheeks matched the one on his grandson's face, and the elder Lord broke out into a coughing fit. "Your sacrifice would mean nothing. And when the dust settled over Westeros, and the war was done, you would just be another casualty. Another body to burn in a communal."

Almost immediately, his eyes softened, and their deep creases faltered on his face.

The Lord of Riverrun grunted in fatigue, but still rose himself securely on his two able feet. He marched towards the huffing boy, and placed a wrinkled hand over his sweaty forehead, urging him to quiet down.

"It's not about glory, Grandfather." He spat out lowly, as his ears began to match his fiery locks of curly hair. "It's about family. Our family. It's about ensuring its survival."

The older man gave the lass a curt nod. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, and turned to the knight with a downturned smile.

"There wasn't a knight more fit for the task than Ser Cain." He confirmed his judgment with a tired gesture in his direction. "He was knighted at five and ten. You are over your seven and tenth birthday, boy, and haven’t been even mirthed a squire."

Oscar sucked in a protesting breath, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room fall before him. His brows furrowed in a dangerous quarrel, and his blood ran hot. "Yet even with all the skill in the world, he still failed."

Lord Grover was losing his patience, "Yes, grandson, that he did! He failed, despite all the signs that pointedly told us otherwise – do you think you'd do an equitable job? When you haven't even once crossed swords in a Joust or Tourney?"

Nearby the aching knight, Lady Arryn renowed her position.

She whispered to her waiting guard, and the man took a step ahead, hitting over the chantry with the hilt of his sword.

The noise that erupted grabbed the attention of both grandson and grandfather.

"The turn of events marked by Ser Cain's departure means we need to readjust our plans." She commanded their heed calmly, "It is… unfortunate; that Lady Tully's sworn shield failed to protect her. Yet here we all stand, warming our bottoms on a mine of gold."

Cain should have been grateful for the distraction she was offering. All the displeasure surged upon him evaporated within the click of her tongue, and less conventional language – still, even he had to remain weary on the subject he opened.

"On a mine of gold?" Oscar spat out sharply, feeling his self-control disperse by failing him again. "My Lady, do you think my sister's condition is a situation of great rejoice?"

The Lady's blue eyes cut through the boy deeply, and the young man closed his mouth in embarrassment, before sitting down again.

She reached for the goblet of wine, and wet her lips with it, "Our strategical situation couldn't be better. Not once have we had a spy of Harrenhal successfully return. In truth, we didn’t even think it possible." Her lithe hand pointed towards the bloodied knight, and her eyes glimmered in mischief, "Yet here stands our living proof."

She elegantly rose from her ivory throne, and signaled the man to take a seat at the bent table. As he gingerly followed her lead, the woman spared him with a kind glance, and met his glance with her deep azul gaze.

"From what I gather, you spent the better part of a month undetected in the Strongs' Keep. Is that true?"

Cain nodded stiffly, and rested his bulky hands over his tired knees. "Yes, my lady. That I have."

"And you were knighted at fifteen?" She alluded to what was early spoken.

"Yes, my lady."

"By Lord Hunter Redwyne." She urged him to clarify, through the edge of a quirked-up brow, and the callings of a small smile pulling at her dusted lips.

"Yes, my lady. The very one."

Lady Jane hummed, seemingly satisfied by his short answers. She turned her attention to Lord Grover and his tiresome grandson, and merely asked Ser Cain again.

"And you faced the Kinslayer in combat, cut by a Valyrian blade, and lived to tell the tale?"

"... Aye, my lady."

Oscar's eyes remained unyielding. But Grover Tully glanced at the man before him, and offered him a wordless bow.

"Tell me, Ser, how would you like to command your own battalion?"

"You have to be patient." Alys chastised her deeply, as her luring features turned from flaccid to sharp. "Hardly enough time has passed since your last attempted escape – Aemond is still very much on edge."

The Lady's eyes turned to her. With the bridge of her nose scrunched up, and her fair features molded into a desperate plea, the girl looked more like a lost child, than an able and resourceful Lady.

Alys regarded her as such, and sighed deeply as she grasped onto her shoulders carefully.

"If I wait any longer, it'll be too late. I've already wasted three moon turns in this cursed Keep. I have to return to my family." The Tully spoke decidedly, leaving behind no room for arguing. She took a seat before the tiny mirror, that breached her modest vanity – a recent gift from Aemond, deduced by him to make her feel more like a proper lady.

The image that reflected within it looked at her like a dire stranger. The green silks she was dressed into, the pristine, braided hair that framed her pale cheeks perfectly; She was the vision of a flawless royal, a soft and polite maiden, untouched yet by the spoils of death and war.

'Would this be enough?' She asked herself desperately, whilst gripping the edge of her chair painfully.

Was this what Aemond had always wanted? The proof of her lack of autonomy, finally presented to him on a silver platter, as he returned from war every night?

Was he, perhaps, congratulating himself, every time he glanced at her, thinking himself master of the universe for making her arch and kneel?

Alys shook her head once more, and rested a hand over her bouncing knee.

"Patience is a virtue, Lady Tully. You needn't put yourself through any more unnecessary risks."

The Lady of Riverrun shook her head vigorously, finally snapping herself back to reality; Her actions were defying, and devoid of any capacity. Alys felt herself more confounded by the second. "I'll help you plan this thoroughly." The wood witch adverted. Her head quirked to the side in an encouraging gesture, and the girl nodded feverishly in reply.

Her green eyes widened in fair delight, and Aemond's lover lowered her gaze over the girl's book. "You memorized the passages well enough. Very soon, you shall put your knowledge to practice."

(Y/N) let out a tired sigh, and graced the older woman with a pleasant smile. "I'm lucky to have you, Alys" She played with her rings as she spoke, "Thank you. For everything."

As the elder woman finally left her Quarters in favor of bringing out the order for dinner, (Y/N) let out an aggravated groan.

Her long pretense would surely make her nauseous. But she would be a simpleton indeed, to place all her trust in Alys.

The walls preleened with the doom of silence. A cold breeze dug its way deeply into her spine, and the silent taste of passing and demise left a sour taste in her parted mouth.

***

Aemond began dinner as he wontedly did every day – praying to the Warrior to grant him strength in battle, to the Smith, to mend all that was left broken, to the Father, "to shine his light", and lead their souls out of the brink of darkness.

Each and every time, without fail, the girl would bring the pristine napkin to her mouth, masking the obvious way her lips would quirk into a most unyielding smile. His pious speech, and the way his hands painfully clasped together, begging for the blessing of resolve, made her scoff in blinding wonder.

Was he even aware of the words he mostly muttered? Did he ever stop to assess himself throughout the day, and realize the sin in which he debaucherously bathed in?

As his speech came to an end, the Lady preleened forward, grabbing a hold of the boiled-up stork.

How lovely it was to sit between comfort and chaos.

"You've never been one to speak much during our time spent together." Aemond remarked through the rumble of a solitary hum. "Yet I had hoped this last week softened your resolve, My Lady."

Her eyebrows rose in slight discomfort, as her eyes focused on the leisure movements of his bigger hands.

So he was softening up.

She opened her mouth almost immediately, but her hesitant eyes danced around his blinding stare. Her plump lips pressed into a hard line, and she exhaled loudly through her nose, in an attempt to ground herself.

"Not at all, Your Grace, I assure you." The cluttering of her fork came to a hoisted end, as Lady Tully aligned her head to focus directly on the One-Eyed Prince. "I should love nothing more than to talk to you… Please, do advise me on what you would like most to hear."

She fidgeted nervously with her silver rings – a quirk she developed whilst imprisoned in the Strong's Keep – and gingerly awaited his reply.

Your Grace. Your Grace. Your Grace.

The stillness in her speech and eyes drove the man effectively wild.

"Aemond." He stilled her faction through the reign of a distorted sigh.

She regarded him with a petrified stance. Her hands fell heavy over her legs in the wake of anticipation.

"... I-I beg your pardon?"

"Aemond." He repeated his name again, "We already break bread and sleep in the same bed." His lilac eye rose from his plate, and singled out her reddened cheeks. The man paused a while, as if to weigh his words carefully, and his cold, glassy orb, hungrily ran over her form. "It seems inevitable that we'd call each other by our given names. Yet you never once said mine throughout."

The girl could feel her throat dry up. While still maintaining his awkward stare, she reached for the glass of wine that rested by her left side. She wrapped her hand around its stem, and brought it to her paling lips.

The liquid courage slid down her throat in a quick, though burning manner, and (Y/N) had to swallow down an erratic cough. Her brows furrowed amidst, as she picked her words out slowly.

"I have called your name before, Prince Aemond. Many times throughout the moons, in fact."

He smiled at her perturbed reply, and shook his head in coy distraught.

"Not without the honorifics." The man clarified in a pleading tone, his voice growing hotter now. "... Just say my name." He sighed defeatedly. His hand gripped the edge of the table, silently, as the Targaryen Prince could feel his mind running with a thousand thoughts per passing minute.

The silence ate at him alive. She drowned the wine in a swift swing, and slouched forward to pour herself another glass.

She was too sober for this.

Lucaerys, Jacaerys, Cain.

Part of her wanted to pluck his eye out. Part of her wished nothing more than to make fun of him. Laugh, perhaps, at his desperate indiscretion. Do something – anything – to gauge a reaction out of him.

Any sort of reaction, that would make her pestering feelings for him leave her heavy soul.

Surprising even herself, adamantly going against her own wishes, the woman caught herself breathing out.

"... Aemond."

Unexpectedly he moved, by jumping to his ready feet, fully disregarding the oak chair as it hit the floor in a most perused manner.

The pang of noise alerted her, and seemingly, the guards outside. A while they remained in silence, listening in to the clash of metal that announced their unsure shifting.

But they wouldn’t come inside. The girl was lest aware of that.

As time pressed on, Aemond remained hammered in place, heaving out his weighty breaths and clasping his hands in aching fists.

Her eyes momentarily left his shadow – to turn again towards the poach of wine, and empty another glass in rapid gulps.

The heavy atmosphere inside the room hung lowly over their tired heads. (Y/N) resumed her mellow eating, wincing at the shakiness within her hands. She grabbed another piece of the boiled meat, though Aemond's stare soon made her drop it, and the girl clicked her tongue in disbelief; grabbing it instead with a piece of cloth, and securing it into a tight knot.

This time, it was her actions that had failed her. And perhaps it'd be her ready words that would prevail.

"Aemond." She spoke again, this time more confidently than before. The bitter liquor was burning her throat, her chest, her heart. She felt her limbs heavy – with both anticipation and frustration - borne out of lack of relief. She wanted to slap him, to hit him, to crush him beneath her feet.

She wanted to run away, to stay confined, forever inside this room, forever astute to what was going on in the outside world.

She wanted to feel something.

She wanted…

"Yes." Aemond encouraged her softly, and her attention came back to the raptures of the present tense. "There we go." He worded out, keeping his tone barely above a whisper.

Neither could tell when or how it happened – but Aemond's body was inches away from touching hers. The heat emanating from his beating heart washed over the meek form of the tipsy Lady. His Lady.

She gulped painfully, and the Prince could feel how his hands started spasming with the need to feel her. His nails bit the inside of his calloused palm, leaving deep and angry marks inside them.

His prominent veins shifted with his every faction. His face morphed into hopeful disarray.

"There we go." He repeated gently, "I want to hear your laughter. You never once laughed with me."

Her stare was hard to decipher. And yet confliction danced across her face. Aemond turned serious, and the stammering of his hands came to an untimely end. His eye bared holes into her reddened face; and the Lady humorously thought, if only for a moment, that it was a lucky thing he didn’t still have both his eyes. For such a stare would be embedded in her subconscious, bringing forth her swift undoing.

The corners of her mouth felt painful to bend and break. Shakily she smiled at him, and opened her mouth in shocked reclusion.

A shy laughter erupted from her unquenched throat, and the woman shuddered, surrendering the reins of reason to the drunken thoughts that sieged her.

Her laughter wasn't her own. The languid movements of her hands, that trailed over Aemond's chest, were not her own.

His finger came to caress her cheek. Her nose. Her brow. Her lips. Her mouth. The Crown Prince sucked in a dangerous breath, and secured his left arm loosely around her waist.

"Good girl," He spoke tenderly, his voice going from gruff to rough, "Such a good girl for me." His fingers combed through her messy braids, marking their swift undoing – taking a step back, he could feel the heat leave his head, in the favor of traveling lower, to meet the almost flaccid cock confined in the tightness of his pants. "Say my name again. Laugh again." He commanded in a pleading meowl. His lips twitched in anticipation, and his eyes trailed lower, lower still, from up her face, down to her soaring bosom.

"Aemond."

"(Y/N)."

A solitary look of shame was shared between them. Perhaps pushed forward by the only remaining faction of rationale, the two placed a step in between each other, but even that proved to be too fickle of a barrier to keep them whole apart.

Aemond reached to cup her face with his own trembling hand – on her end, the girl's digits trailed over from his high cheekbones, down to his prominent cupid's bow, in an all but gentle caress.

"Avy jorrāelan." He hissed through painfully gritted teeth, allowing his head to rest in the crook made of her shoulder blade and neck. "Avy jorrāelan." He repeated, the vulnerability in his voice making him lose the hold he had over himself.

"Se Jaes emagon qrimbrōstan issa naejot jorrāelagon ao." His feathered breath came into contact with her dainty neck. (Y/N) gasped lightly, as she felt the first of his many kisses being tenderly placed over her jaw and neck.

Her head was pounding, and her eyes were screwed shut, as the coldness of the wall hit her in perused waves. The impropriety of the soft moans and sighs that filled her ears to the brim left her confused and wanting.

The worst of it was that she didn’t know whether they came from her or him.

She felt as though her head was being harshly held below the water, and the girl clawed at her dress to loosen her tight bodice, which seemed to constrict even her erratic breathing.

Aemond's attention moved from her earlobe back to her lips. He felt how her hands contorted sporadically, and he placed his own palm over hers, to put an end to her hasty movements, and give her a sense of calmness. His fingers suddenly entwined with hers, as his form hovered above her. His throat etched with a lousy moan, and his mouth finally crashed with hers.

(Y/N)'s eyes opened at the shocking scene, and her lips suddenly parted, either to beg or to protest against him, but Aemond's hot tongue found entrance into her warm cave – deciding instead to deepen the kiss, and press himself further against her smaller form.

The outline of his throbbing cock molded against the shape of the woman's thigh, and the Prince Protector of the Realm let out a pleasured hiss, once her insistent writhing ended up brushing up his weeping tip. "Jaes, ao istan vēttan syt issa." He mumbled against her swollen lips, "Sepār jurnegon skorkydoso īlon kostagon fāelor hēnkirī."

She let out a fatigued whimper, and swiftly turned her head around, putting an abrupt end to their meek and vicious pecks.

"What's wrong, hmm? Dōna hāedar… ȳdra daor hakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa sir."

Aemond's lips were soft and tender, leaving behind an almost vivacious bite over her exposed parts. His pace had been filled with an animalistic hunger; the longing inside his eye caught her unprepared, and her lips parted with the desire to feel something – anything – that his palpable mouth would keenly offer.

(Y/N) shuddered with her eyes closed, and grabbed a hold of his long, white hair, leading the man closer yet to her swelling heat.

The way in which he held her should have felt so very wrong. But at that moment, the only thing she could do was extend her arm back up to him, and guide him with an insistent pull over his silky locks: encouraging him to bring forth his descent upon her lips.

She disregarded the way a figment of her psyche screamed at her. To stop her ministrations, to slap his calloused hands away from her. For if she kept her eyes closed, and focused solely on the shape of him, then she could almost pretend that the man before her had nothing to do with her beloved Jace.

She could almost pretend that he was Jace.

Aemond's pupil was left blown wide – so much so, that the lilac of his iris could almost be left neglected. He wrapped his hands around the lady's thighs, and hoisted her up to meet him by his narrow hips. Both moaned into the other's mouth, and the Prince soon found his way into the raptures of the silken bed.

His heated cock kissed the outlines of her soaked cunny. Aemond sighed deeply over the arch of her neck, and pawed away at her untouched bodice.

(Y/N)'s hands rested still upon his eyepatch, and, with a swift and hasty movement, she yanked it off his sculpted face.

"We need to stop…" She moaned, defeated, and felt how Aemond's body stiffened up below her, as the harsh realization finally hit them both.

She had uttered the words aloud.

Half expecting him to blow out fuming, the woman tried to pry herself off his fevered body, but his hands reigned like iron shackles over the inside of her spreading thighs.

"Do we?" He whispered lowly, whilst leaning in to steal another kiss from her again.

"We shouldn’t." She strained herself to say once more, and Aemond nodded, still chasing her lips with his.

She melted into his reluctant touch, and hummed against his beating heart. His hands dug deeply into her resting sides; his fingertips scattered over her translucent spine, leaving their possessive mark. "This isn’t right."

"I know, I know," He gasped, "Seven Hells, I know…"

"Yn nyke istan zarvīzis," He pressed a finger over her swollen lips, "Nyke emagon issare sīr sȳz se… sīr, sīr zarvīzis."

With the last ounce of her strength, she bit over his lower lip, dragging a wanton moan from out of his rosy lips.

"Ao aehron raqagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon bisa..." He chanted, while latched onto her burning sear, "Yn ao jaelagon issa sepār hae olvie. Ao mazilībagon syt issa – sepār hae qosaevaerī."

His High Valyrian had made her dizzy. And at first, she tried to pay his words her mind, she tried to grapple and understand what he was saying.

A starved meowl left her panting lips.

"You can tell me to stop," The words that poured out of his mouth washed upon her like a rippled tide, "You can tell me to stop… and I will..."

Her body quickly arched against him; her shaky hands came to rest over his hips. She laced her mouth again with his, expecting rough, dominant kisses – but Aemond's hands propped themselves loosely against her cheeks, his thumbs pliantly stroking her with untoward devotion. His single eye drank her in with reverence.

"Please…" He whimpered into her mouth, "Avy jorrāelan." He confessed to her, again and again, trying his hardest not to take her against the cold floor – and not fuck her straight into the messy mattress.

Her limbs felt heavy. Lacking their autonomy. The body she was nestled in still wasn't her own.

"... Why?" She asked him disdainfully, sporadically, as his index finger came to pry open her haughty entrance.

His eye widened in perplexed ruin, but the Prince soon stumbled over his words again.

That bastard Jace must have taught her the gist of that.

"... I wish I knew." Came his sole and sincere reply.

Just like that, her eyes welled with the threat of tears.

His hands, his hold, his voice, his mouth. It was all wrong. In truth none could ever hope to feel right.

Flashes of her old lover, of his baby brother – who was so small the last she'd seen him –, of her sworn shield came into view. All of them, gone as if they never were. All of them, with their memories trampled deep beneath her sprawled-out form.

She wasn't a woman of the Faith. Not after what had happened. Not after the spoils of war that she, herself, felt like angry whips upon her skin. But her eyes fluttered close, and she begged the Mother for forgiveness, whilst a tear rolled off her ticking cheek.

She brought a hand to her wobbly lips, and began to violently rub away any remaining trace of Aemond's presence.

She was disgusted. With him, with herself, with the world, with the image of her Jace – that surged in her mind the second she blinked, the moment that she jolted awake in her misery.

On his end, (Y/N)'s display of pure abhorrence failed to falter Aemond's lustful grief. Why, if she did not desire him, did she fall into his arms again and again?

Love was the death of duty. And longing was the doom of all.

"Fucking cock tease…" The Prince growled, grief-stricken, "How much longer are you going to give into me, just to push me away?"

His patience had been running thin. The ache in his breeches was long forgotten. In its stead, the urgent sting in his heart dragged the man into the pits of madness. "What is it this time?" He groveled over her closed legs again.

Her recuperation had been jovial and quick. Adrenaline replaced the pain and shame, and the woman tried to get off the bed, put as much distance as she knew how in between her and the ravished Prince.

For the first time since he came to be, Aemond would not let her escape his clutches. As she moved backwards, he persisted forward – following her wobbly feet throughout the room with the spare of his predatory eye.

"Y-You said –" She tried ceaselessly to accuse him. "You said you wouldn't –"

"And you're right. I meant every. Single. Thing. I told you." He growled into her frightened ear, as his hands came to cage her, trap her under the seclusion of the hard, stone wall.

"You're mine." He hissed desperately, as he clasped her jaw to face him. "You've always been mine, you fucking harlot. From the moment you stepped foot into Harrenhal, your life belonged to me."

Perhaps Aemond was right, and she was nothing but a harlot. A treacherous swine that hung onto whatever he could give her - so starved and devoid of love and warmth, that she'd dare to stoop so lowly with him.

Aemond descended his unquenched rage over her exposed neck, and began leaving tender love bites all over, in spite of her lackluster pleas.

(Y/N)'s head felt like it was about to explode. She felt sick to her stomach – the wine and the distraught both built up inside of her. All she wanted now was to be left alone. For Aemond's touch felt oddly comforting, and her tired eyes began to close. "You drive me insane." She heard him choke.

She wanted to open her mouth. To urge the Prince to stop; but her word hole was sewn shut, taken over by the grip of feared confusion. While his hand hoisted her up by the waist again, her hand went around him, to grab onto whatever she could find. Finally, she stopped at the dragon-glass dagger, that securely latched onto Aemond's waist. Effectively, she wrapped her fingers around its silver hilt, and sheathed it out of its confinements.

"I swear on whatever God you want me to, I'll slit your throat if you don't stop touching me –" She wailed into Aemond's form, as she felt him stiffen up in tumultation.

His nostrils flared up at her attempt to intimidate him, and yet… his face looked most serene, as the cutting edge of the dagger reached close to his ivory skin. She raised her brows at him in utter surprise; for she expected him to surrender. His arms snaked away from her, and Aemond watched her intensely with his piercing gaze.

She could kill him, consequences be damned. And if she faced trial for this, then at least she'd have taken out a Green and Vhagar.

Her hand was shaking. Her breathing became erratic. She'd held a blade on multiple occasions; she'd fantasized about cutting Aemond's throat more times than she could bring herself to count. And yet…

His lack of movement – of worry – rattled her endlessly. She wanted to scream at him, to push him, to cut him. But for some reason couldn't bring herself to do it.

The realization that she just couldn’t do it made her almost drop the knife from the tight hold she'd kept it under.

"Why aren't you the least bit worried?" She spat out lowly, with her body trembling and her jaw set tight.

Aemond remained quiet and taciturn. His eye fixed her face carefully, and his hand gently wrapped around her quivering wrist. "Come on now…" He whispered to her, and watched how her eyes filled with the endless tears of frustration, how the hot droplets rolled down her reddened cheeks.

It would take another moment for her to drop the blade.

A moment she would forever grow to resent.

"I fucking hate you." She hissed through a breathless sob.

Oh, how she wished to hate him. Hate him as she did when they first clashed swords. Hate him as she did when she heard Jace talk about Lucaerys' death.

"Liar." Aemond rasped in acknowledgment.

And, just like that, the damage had been done. The blade rested back into his hand within an instant, and Aemond hit the wall behind her with murderous intent. "Fucking liar." He whispered again, breathing less and less sporadically, trying to wash his nerves away.

"I have been so good to you. But no matter what I do, it'll never be enough for you. Hmm?" He shook his head adamantly, and dug his fingers into the cold tiles of the cursed stronghold. "I am a patient man. But I will not wait a minute longer."

Her face twisted into a painful scowl, and the girl pushed over his chest roughly, but Aemond was quick to deny her exit. "This is not ideal," He muttered lowly to himself, "Yet you need to be taught a lesson."

"What are you d–"

Her words died upon her lips. Aemond hummed in dissatisfaction, and immediately brought the blade into her view.

She let out a scream of pure horror, but his pliant mouth silenced her with a scorching kiss. Her whole body was shaking, and the Prince Regent let out a frustrated sigh.

"Cease your crying, you hateful woman." He chastised her cruelly, "The fucking Gods sent you to ruin me."

At that moment, she wasn't above pleading. Her knees wobbled in place, and her orbs frantically searched for a way out. For something to grip and swing at the man before her.

Aemond's eye softened at the sight of her. Despite the pang of guilt he felt, a teasing and self-assuring smirk formed at the corners of his upturned lips.

So Jacaerys hadn't told her. He never mentioned their Valyrian way to her.

His triumphant feat soon washed away, as her trembling hands came into contact with his. "Ÿdra daor dīnagon, issa gevie Dāria. Nyke jāhor dōrī jaelagon naejot ōdrikagon." He told her adherently, truthfully, despite the obvious language barrier.

He took a moment to regain his composure. Grab a hold of her balled-up fists and remember the ancient words he'd only ever read about in his history books.

"Hen lantoti ānogar. Va sỹndroti vāedroma."

He ripped the sleeve from his linen shirt, and placed it over their entwined fingers.

"Mēro perzot gīhoti. Elēdroma iārza sĩr. Izuli ampā perzī."

The blade finally pressed down, over the softness of his left palm. Aemond winced at the sudden pain, and made a mental note to only nick the frightened girl with it, when the time came for that.

"Prūmĩ lanti sēteksi. Hen jenỹ māzīlarion. Qēlossa ozündesi."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened to a comical amount. Somewhere along the way, it seemed, she grew aware of Aemond's intent. She refused to show her hand to him, placing them both behind her back, and holding on for her dear life.

He let out a disapproving grunt, and reached his bloodied hands to her, yanking her right hand from underneath her strong grasp.

"No! No –!" She kept on screaming, and the guards outside shifted in place, before they fell under their oath of silence once again.

The cold and slick edge of the dragon glass pressed lightly against her writhing palm. Aemond made a smaller cut, and carried on with his rapid mumbling.

"Sỹndroro öñö jēdo. Rỹ kīvia mazvestraksi."

His very fist came to cut over his lower lip. His gory hand then reached for her jaw, hammering her in her place, and a sharp sting reflected on her weary stance. Aemond profited off the moment, to ease the dagger into her waiting mouth.

The metallic taste flooded her senses – the girl saw red before her eyes, and failed to register how his fingers came upon his and her forehead, painting them over with a ghastly symbol.

The Targaryen Prince reached for her hand again, and pressed her wounded palm cohesively with his.

"Following the tradition of my House from before the Doom of Old Valyria, I, Aemond of House Targaryen, bind myself to (Y/N) of House Tully, by blood, by soul, by life –"

"NO!"

" – And I pledge to her: that we are now one flesh, one heart, one body. Now and forever."

As he finally pried his limbs away from her trapped body, Aemond allowed his lips to feathery trace over her twisted mouth. She glanced at him, with wide-set and teary eyes.

"Fuck your fucking pledge."

Some grand venue she received.

A single question hung loosely into the air.

"Are you going to rape me now?"

She scarcely registered her own words as they left her mouth.

Aemond's eye widened at her query, and the Targaryen bit over his lower lip, as a deep grimace morphed the fairness of his features. He looked almost dumbfounded by her made assumption.

As soon as it came, the look of utter betrayal left his face.

"You would slit my throat with the knife." Was his mere reply.

***

Sometime along the night, he left.

The mighty roars of Vhagar registered themselves in the far-away distance.

That night, and only that night, she allowed herself the sacrilege of prayer. And she did so, again and again, pleading to the Seven for a blind arrow to reach his neck.

On the back of Vhagar, Aemond shuddered away from the impossible waves of heat, that licked deliciously at his stiffened cock; whenever her breathing would reach his ears, he felt tortured, trapped beneath the swell of lust and wanton desire.

Despite his abhorrent decision, he knew what their marriage meant. He knew all too well what his cruel bind had done, and yet… he felt no plausible remorse for the situation at hand.

The support of Storm's End, Floris Baratheon, Alys – mere casualties compared to the brink of having her, to knowing that she was finally his, as he was wholly hers.

Eventually, she'd have to love him. Eventually, she'd learn to do so.

A marriage wasn't a marriage until it was consummated. But he would give her, as he had promised, the illusion of choice, if nothing else.

As the cold night's air whipped his face again and again, and as Vhagar's thundering resounded over the burnt trees of the Riverlands, Aemond sighed, and brought a shaky hand to the strings of his breeches.

Scared as she was, his Lady made for a beautiful bride. It was such a shame that he didn’t get to see her wear the traditional Targaryen gown.

The pad of his thumb trailed over the cut he'd made – the same cut that now rested over her extended palm.

The flesh would scar, he thought, well pleased; whenever he looked at her, he'd get to see how she was undeniably his.

A possessive growl etched from his parted lips. Images of her paling skin, of her laugh. Her smile. The way her eyes bore into him, as if she always knew something he didn’t.

Leisurely, he began to pump his cock. Below him, Vhagar let out an anguished roar.

"Nyke gīmigon, Vhagar. Gīmigon."

Droplets of precum rolled over his clenching digits, coating his knuckles and the base of his shaft in a translucent, but thick ropes.

He groaned desperately, aching to relieve his frustration deep within her, but alas…

His gruff moans filled the air around him; and Aemond could feel his climax building up, as visions of her flooded his thoughts.

How she would feel underneath him. How she would writhe on the edge of bliss, begging, pleading for him to finally take her.

He could feel her legs wrapping around him, and feel himself sliding inside her with ease, praising her for being so good to him.

He wrapped Vhagar's bridle tight over his arm, and secured himself better in his leather saddle. His grip tightened around his dripping cock, but it was just not good enough.

The pace with which he fucked his hand picked up in a wilding speed. Aemond sighed in pleasure, and felt his hips move to their own accord. His breathing became rugged. His very mind was not his own.

He wondered what other scars her body bore. What the story behind them was, and how many of them came by his swift undoing.

Would she lie down and let him take care of everything? Or would she want to stay on top, jumping up and down on him, each time with a harsher thrust?

His hips rose and fell with his less than gentle pace, and the man pushed his length deeper into his steadfast grip.

He knew that if she let him touch her, he wouldn't be leaving her bed for weeks. He would pull countless orgasms from her, time and time again, until she begged for him to stop. He would have her so full of his seed, so the Gods' help him, that she would swell with his child – his trueborn child – before the rise of the first rays of sun.

Feeling his release beckon, the Prince set on a final rhythm, one that left his loins more in need than ever. With a loud hiss, he pushed himself inside his fist one final time, spilling his seed onto the saddle beneath him.

He panted wildly into the night, and suddenly opened his lustful eye, allowing a tear of ecstasy to roll off his scarred cheek.

"Se Jaes daoriot rȳbagon naejot nykeā vala raqagon issa. Yn nyke jāhor jikagon va issa knees se kostilus zirȳla naejot ivestragī issa emagon ao. Ao issi issa rōva botagon se se olvie rivaestra lambraes aohvra."

He couldn't keep up the charade with her. He would tell her all about it, once things finally settled down.

Word in Harrenhal traveled fast.

First it was her brash arrival. Then her impromptu marriage.

No one dared to talk to her. Yet she was never without the indiscreet eyes that followed her about.

Her situation wasn't without its ups and falls: Aemond felt no need to guard her as stiffly anymore – For where would the former Tully go, now that she bared his Targaryen name?

She was allowed to breach into some castle corners, always in the company of hefty guards, of course, and basked herself in some new acquired perks of freedom.

On the same account, whilst Alys remained loyal to her role as her lady-in-waiting, the tension between them couldn't have been more pain-strikingly high.

"I never asked for this. You must believe me."

She gave the younger woman a domineering stare, and only shook her head, obliged.

"And yet here you stand, inside his bed."

Word in Harrenhal spread fast – like a fire left unattended, like the so-called "Targaryen madness".

But a new, particular rumor gobbled the attention of everyone present.

Daemon Targaryen was to return to the Riverlands. And with him and Caraxes, he'd bring forth the formerly wild dragon, Sheepstealer, mounted by none other than Nettles.

The Lady had been acquainted with the bastard girl before – when the Sowing of the Dragon Seeds reveled in their first borne crops.

Another troubling report came forth. King's Landing had been secured by Rhaenyra.

When (Y/N) heard the news be whispered, she almost collapsed on her knees in glee. This must have marked the end of it. Surely, the usurpers would be put through the sword, leaving all to be well, and right again.

The Greens would die. They would face trial.

The Greens.

Indeed, word in Harrenhal spread fast. And she'd just been made the wife of the cruelest of them all.

Dread filled her insides. Her eyes cast their darkened shadow over the walls of the cursed Keep. A single, fundamental truth raised strongly from her anxious wallowing.

If Daemon Targaryen should find out about her marriage to his nephew, and get to her first… naught of the loyalty of the Riverlords would have a single say in her decided fate. And she would meet her end by the way of his blade, Dark Sister.

Now, more so than ever, it was pivotal for her to escape.

The clock was ticking.

And she was running out of time.

***

Her last day in Harrenhal was spent making plans. She'd rubbed her temples a myriad times, and paced about the room in a dizzying trot.

It wasn’t enough for her to disappear – she had to ensure everyone else thought she was gone.

When Aemond returned, she beckoned his call by jumping to her ready feet. The girl took him in, in his devillished state, and merely raised her brows at him. Whenever she saw him, the nick on her palm and lip itched at her relentlessly.

Neither was willing to recognize aloud what had transpired two moons ago, but both knew the inevitable punishment that would come with Aemond's actions.

He took a seat by the edge of their bed, and took his dagger out to play with it.

In vain he had asked Alys to share with him what she could see. She laid in broken, cradling her forming bump – the one she so desperately tried to hide away from him. The one thing that once meant her protection and raise in rank, now could very well heed out her doom.

Her green eyes raised from the floor below them, and Alys merely shook her head.

"There is fire, my Prince. Fire, and blood, and death."

"Going out to face two dragons is a death sentence." His deep voice rumbled through the silent chamber, "I can't afford that risk anymore with you involved."

And there it was. The silent admission of what he had done.

"We'll have to move from Harrenhal. You'll get to meet Daeron in Oldtown."

Was he sorry for what he did?

"It was about time you got acquainted with the rest of the family."

Aegon's cause was lucky that Storm's End was already too involved. They couldn't turn in their banners to the other front. Not now.

"It's a wonderful idea." She uttered in a glacial tone, barely above a whisper. "When will we depart?"

Sharpened orbs came in contact with the loneness of a purple eye.

The man took in a sparring breath, and hummed at her obedient retreat. The Prince's fist clenched over his cutting wound, and he nodded his head firmly.

"Should we be graced with the Gods' favor, issa jorrāelagon, then on the morrow," He explained, "but no sooner than that."

The girl's brows furrowed in discontent, as Aemond faltered in pressing the matter further. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with the aid of two long fingers, and heavily rose from his seat.

"Don't wait for me tonight. I shall return to you in the morning. I have unfinished business to attend to."

Lack of air. And crippling fear.

Her tiny world had been thrown into the arms of chaos. But everything fell so perfectly into place.

As soon as Aemond had mounted Vhagar, as soon as her father of wings died upon the night's first watch, the woman sprung to her feet, and began her soul's ascent into the pits of the Seven Hells.

She started off by breaking in her tiny mirror, placing a goose feather pillow below and over it, to somehow mask the clefty noise.

Her long hair was the first to go. She began cutting it swiftly, using big and brisk movements to chop off as many of her luscious locks as she possibly could.

She ripped the mattress of the bed open with one of the bigger shards, and revealed Aemond's dried-up shirt, that she had tucked well under after washing it, long preparing it for that occasion.

Her stomach churned as her hand went to her chamber pot. Risking her own deniability, she submerged her digits deep within it, letting out a victorious huff as she brushed across a piece of cold felt.

The insides of the sack revealed fermented meat – putrid, more like. She scattered the final remains of it over the stone floor like a mad-woman, and ripped the latter pages of the book Alys had gifted her.

She would take the passage to the stables, and simply hope for the best.

Her eyes searched feverishly about the cluttered room, but the hammering in her heart stilled only as she gaped upon the lower left corner of the wall full of banners.

There it was. Exactly where Alys told her it was going to be.

She tore into the mattress further, spreading the wool around, and grabbed a hold of a piece of wood from the crackling fire.

May she be forgiven for what she was about to do.

Her shaky hands grasped the lumber strongly, and she let it roll in the middle of the room, allowing it to fall with a loud bang.

***

The sound of wailing screams echoed inside her head, scratching at her ears, to the point of making them almost bleed. The heat of the fire she caused fell over her skimpily clothed back, and the disgust she felt with herself was palpable against her tongue.

With every turn she took, she made herself another promise. She would not rest until the war would see its end. She'd never sleep warmly again, and forever remind herself of the sacrifice she had to make – of all the lives that she undoubtedly ended, if only to meet her selfish ends.

For once, this was not just Aemond's doing. This was her fault all alone.

Blinded by rage, and seething with fury, her feet carried her down the crooked set of stairs. The woman brought a hand up to her face, and coughed wildly in the back of it. She'd have to make a bold turn soon. Then the outside world would heed, and she would be free again.

With just a twinge of luck, the guards should think that whatever was left of her room collapsed upon herself inside. Her burnt hair and clothes would create the wanted look – the meat would add the unmistakable smell of rot and death, and the lack of an actual body would take days to figure out.

And she prayed. She prayed, she prayed, she prayed: that no one else knew of the passages that she was threading through below.

Her eyes could barely see in front of her. Smoke rose to unforgiving levels, and the Lady swore it could be cut even by the dullest knife. As she reached the crossroads of the secret tunnel, her hands came to grapple at the breeches' pockets, turning them inside out – trying to find the torn pages of the book she'd just previously carried.

A sigh of relief rumbled from within her throat, as the pads of her shaking digits stroked across the withered, olden pages.

Her relief would be short lived.

Boney hands snaked around her, and the girl nearly screamed – until the familiar scent of mint and wild berries floored her senses.

"Alys?!" Her voice let out in an exasperated high. "Alys, we need to hurry!"

But her able hands still hesitantly clung to the soft material of her shirt, digging so deeply into it, that she could rip it in a downward pull.

"You –" She began to say, but cut herself short as she momentarily closed her eyes.

No matter what, she couldn’t tell the Lady before her that she'd have sent her upon her death.

"You took a wrong turn. This isn't the right way towards the South Gates."

The adrenaline flooded her veins. Her heart was pumping wildly against her ears. Lady Tully only nodded, failing to process that Alys had, in fact, never given her access to such an option on the crudely drawn map.

"This way, (Y/N) – came quickly!"

Two sets of legs descended further into the murky passages of Harrenhal. At one point, the smoke had gotten so very thick, that both women had to feel their way out, by touching the corners of every tunnel that they surpassed.

When all seemed lost, Alys finally spoke, "Over here!" She yelled out to her, and latched onto Aemond's dampened shirt.

They stumble into each other, as the small opening of the stifling cellar reaches the South Gates. The witch stops hastily on her heel, and the young Lady nearly busts their cover.

A raid of soldiers came flocking out, with what then looked like tens of thousands of squealing maids. So frightened by their own demise, they bumped into the oak doors and onto each other – choosing to, instead of unlocking the main Gates, reach and pull at the other's hairs, cursing loud and wildly.

Alys let out a bemused huff at their perused antics, but her reglament was short lived; as one of the smarter lassies reached for the illustrious piece of wood, and opened the doors with the loudest of creak.

"Now's our chance," The Lady of Riverrun whispered to her fellow escapee, grabbing onto her wrist harshly, and dragging her out and into the light. "Mingle in the crowd, Alys –"

"My Lady, do not stray far –"

The older woman let out a staggering breath, as she raised her skirts to follow suit on the trail left by the hot-headed girl.

She is Elmo's daughter alright, she disarmingly told herself, Just as hopeless and reckless as he once was.

Alys almost tackled her to the ground, as Lady Tully succumbed herself deeper into the burnt out forest. She gripped onto her hands with hers, so harshly, that she'd definitely leave her mark. "I thought I had told you not to stray far."

The breathless form of the lost child before her appeared to be enough to soften a tad of her resolve. "When I tell you something, I expect you to do it."

Whilst chastising her deeply for her foolhardy behavior, the woman searched her pockets, and pushed out two quarter silvers into her trembling hands.

"You'll go towards the Rushing Halls and buy yourself a mule from the Half Calf's Inn."

As the younger Lady nodded feverishly at her late advice, Alys clasped her cheeks with her hands, and brought her head further towards her. "You'll keep a straight line to the Green Fork. You won't stop to eat or drink – you won't stop until you reach Hag's Mire. Make sure to cover the cut on your hand with this." As she spoke, Alys pushed a black glove into her resting hands.

The Bliss of Riverrun threw the witch a bewildered look. Her eyes searched adamantly for hers, and the woman panted out in pure wonder. "How did you know I intended on migrating North?

"I've already seen you do it." She shook her shoulders promptly, "I've already seen you succeed."

Her green eyes softened, if only for a blazing moment; but the crackling of the trees behind them snapped her out of her inward trance. "Don't waste anymore time. Your diversion was smart, but he will try to find you."

The girl reached down, to squeeze her hands, perhaps, in a wordless display of gratitude and affection. Her soft fingers interlaced over her boney knuckles, and Alys muttered a faint blessing over the twisted arch of her furrowed brow.

The Lady turned around, but not before pausing and shooting the witch one last fiery look. "Come with me." She offered determinedly, and shook her head strongly as Alys took a step back. "He'll try to punish someone for it. You're his next available girl." She begged her to see to reason.

"My place remains here. By his side."

(Y/N)'s eyes hardened at her thorough admission, but she strained herself to shoot the wet nurse back with a curt nod.

"I shan't forget what you did for me." She promised her elder with a minute smile.

"A heads-up when you next decide to set the whole stronghold on fire would be most appreciated…!" She lightheartedly told her, despite the obvious wabbling of her lower lip.

(Y/N) nodded, but remained hammered in place for another while. Alys' hand reached to cup over her face, but a brisk moment of clarity was quick to change her mind.

"Go, you foolish girl…!" She snapped, "Make good use of that promise you made."

Her feet began moving on their own accord. Her mind was blazing with all of the unfinished tasks at hand.

She would run towards the Rushing Halls. Buy a mule. Retreat towards Green Fork. Reach the Twins.

Her road shall lead to Winterfell. If Forrest Fray remained the same kind fool that he once was, she should have no trouble sending Cregan Stark a raven.

And if she could reason with Jacaerys' friend, take in his testimony of protection, perhaps her life wasn't lost just yet.

The gusts of wind ran through her shortened and unkempt hair. Aemond's clothes hung loosely over her, and the stench of fire and ash filled her nostrils with something else other than hopeless dread.

Never before in her life, did the girl run so fast.

Taglist:

Translations:

Gevie… = Beautiful;

Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, issa dōna jorrāelagon. Nyke kivio ao naejot sagon gīda. = Do not worry, my sweet love. I promised you I would be patient;

Mēre tubis ao jāhor jaelagon issa. = One day you will desire me;

Se Jaes emagon qrimbrōstan issa naejot jorrāelagon ao. = The Gods have cursed me to love you;

Gīda ilagon, Vhagar. Sagon nykeēdrosa... Sȳz hāedar. = Calm down, Vagar. Be still. Good girl;

Jaes, ao istan vēttan syt issa. = Gods, you were made for me;

Sepār jurnegon skorkydoso īlon kostagon fāelor hēnkirī. = Just look how perfectly we fit together;

Dōna hāedar… ȳdra daor hakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa sir = Sweet girl… don't pull away from me now;

Yn nyke istan zarvīzis. Nyke emagon issare sīr sȳz se… sīr, sīr zarvīzis. = But I've been patient. I've been so good and… so, so patient;

Ao aehron raqagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon bisa... = You act like you don't want this…;

Yn ao jaelagon issa sepār hae olvie. Ao mazilībagon syt issa – sepār hae qosaevaerī. = But you want me just as much. You ache for me – just as badly.

Ÿdra daor dīnagon, issa gevie Dāria. Nyke jāhor dōrī jaelagon naejot ōdrikagon. = Don't cry, my beautiful Princess. I would sooner die than hurt you;

Valyrian Wedding Vows: Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows, two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass – the stars stand witness, of the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light;

Nyke gīmigon, Vhagar. Gīmigon. = I know Vhagar, I know;

Se Jaes daoriot rȳbagon naejot nykeā vala raqagon issa. Yn nyke jāhor jikagon va issa knees se kostilus zirȳla naejot ivestragī issa emagon ao. Ao issi issa rōva botagon se se olvie rivaestra lambraes aohvra. = The Gods don't listen to men like me. But I would go on my knees and beg them to let me keep you. You were once the bane of my existence… and now, you find yourself the center of it.

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