#got to go harder and study for longer
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sl33py-g4m3r · 7 months ago
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feel like I've asked this and thought about it before for language learning; but I'll ask again~~
is it worth it to try to play through a game where you're basically illiterate?
I need to up my study of hiragana/katakana so hopefully I can do this and actually get somewhere faster.
I'd hoped that by doing this and taking the time to try to dissect and figure out the text (using either flash cards or a table or something) that hopefully I could actually learn something from it~~
but both animal crossing and pokemon are such text heavy games, and I was on the switch lite when I tried it w animal crossing~~ the text was small as is and I couldn't tell what the furigana above the kanji even was. so I kind of gave up and switched back to English...
baby beginner of trying to learn Japanese, what's a way to make memorizing and learning hiragana/katakana fun and for me to actually memorize and learn them? I wanna get literate~~~ cause I feel kind of dumb~~~
would playing video games in the target language you're trying to learn help the beginner learner? or not? (I figure I'm still illiterate at this point so hope it would but idk if I'd just get frustrated at it or not)
or maybe second guessing myself here; maybe despite what I've been telling myself since high school, I really don't have the want to actually learn..... Or I do, I'm second guessing myself, and think that since I'm like 30, that I'll never learn....
idk....
I hoped that I was getting somewhere at least, given I can think sometimes in very rudimentary childish Japanese, but can't read, and can't understand much at all...
I'm still very much a baby learner and discouraged by this... but I'll never learn otherwise.....
got to stop giving up with things~~~ don't be discouraged by it, cause kids learn their native tongue in the same exact way~~~~
just throwing yourself in there~~~ yet I'm still disheartened by it....
hopefully on the OLED instead of the lite, the furigana on top of the kanji is easier for me to read~~~ if I try this again~~~
so~~ tldr; feel bad that I'm still a baby learner w Japanese and mainly illiterate... what's some fun ways (aside maybe picking apart video game text) to try to learn and memorize the characters? like really learn them by heart so I don't need to resort to a table ever again?
feeling like this should give me the determination to work harder~~~ to prove my "I can't do it" wrong~~~~ rather than just give up...
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kira-akira · 1 year ago
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What I Want You To Know About Long COVID
Well lads, I've been suffering from Long COVID for over a year now. My life is at a complete standstill. I'm 25 years old and I'm too sick to go back to school, I can't work, I had to move back in with my parents and I'm still stuck here.
Here are just a few things I wish people knew about Long COVID, including things I didn't know myself until I got it.
COVID destroys your immune system. Yes, even if you don't have Long COVID. Are you getting sick more often now? When you get sick, does it last longer? There are many studies showing that COVID causes t cell depletion, even in mild COVID cases! T cells are how your body remembers how to fight off infections you've had before so losing those cells? Bad news.
Your initial infection can be mild and you can still get Long COVID. Right from Yale Medicine, "Most people with Long COVID had mild acute COVID." (This is also a good link for a basic Long COVID overview).
There can be a gap of time between when you "get better" from the initial COVID infection to the onset of Long COVID symptoms. Some people get sick with an initial COVID infection and never get better. Some get better and then weeks or months later start developing Long COVID symptoms. Long COVID symptoms can even fluctuate over time, can go away for months and then suddenly come back.
So many people have Long COVID and don't realize it. Do you feel more tired lately but no matter how much you sleep, nothing helps? Is it harder to concentrate at work or school? Can you just not think like you used to? You could have Long COVID and not even know it. Even mild post-COVID symptoms are still Long COVID.
COVID can do anything to your body. Long COVID has over 200 recognized symptoms and can affect basically any part or system of your body. There is no one mechanism or cause of Long COVID which unfortunately also means there's no one cure either.
The effects of COVID are cumulative. Each COVID reinfection increases your chances of developing Long COVID. COVID is also affecting your body in other ways, yes, even if you're otherwise young and healthy! "Repeat COVID-19 infections increase risk of organ failure, death".
Once you have Long COVID, repeat COVID infections will make your symptoms worse. "80% [of Long COVID patients] saw their symptoms worsen [from reinfection]. In 60% of people who were in recovery or remission from Long COVID, reinfection caused a recurrence of Long COVID."
There is a lot more I want to say about Long COVID but I want to keep this post at least somewhat manageable to read. Like how when COVID is contracted during pregnancy, those COVID-exposed fetuses have a 6.3-fold increased risk of motor developmental delays, or that another study found 50% of babies exposed to COVID in utero had developmental delays.
You need to keep caring about COVID, for others around you and also for yourself even if you're "healthy". Everyone is at risk. And don't forget 40-60% of COVID infections are asymptomatic, which is why masking even if you feel fine is crucial. The only way right now to not get Long COVID is to not get COVID in the first place. It's not too late, if you've stopped masking it's never too late to start again! I know it's easy to get distracted by things in your life that seem more real than the possibility of getting sick some time in the future, and the peer pressure to not mask can be intense. But it only feels less real or less important until your entire life is having Long COVID. Trust me.
I know this is a complicated issue, many people can't afford to stay home when sick even if they want to because of their jobs, there are disgusting policies trying to ban wearing masks, but please if you can. Keep masking. Masking works, masking saves lives.
This post got a bit longer than I wanted so below the cut is a non-exhaustive list of my Long COVID symptoms and some of my experiences as one of the "healthy young people" who got "unlucky". cw brief mention of suicidal ideation.
Welcome to the Thunderdome that is my body with Long COVID. Keep in mind these are just my experiences and symptoms, Long COVID can cause any range of symptoms at varying severities.
Dysautonomia: Exercise intolerance, Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM), fatigue, and heat intolerance. What do those things mean? Here's some specific examples. Absolutely terrible circulation I am so cold all the time but also, if I get a little too warm I will pass out. Eating hot food makes my heart rate spike, I sweat, my body feels heavy. Blood pooling and pins and needles in my feet when I walk. Don't even think about exercising past walking, it's impossible. I used to work out an hour a day 4 times a week and now walking up one flight of stairs makes my heart pound and I can't breathe. Can't take even just warm showers anymore or I will pass out. Heat rashes from being in the sun for 10 minutes.
Digestive issues: Honestly too many to name but: constant bloating, extreme nausea, constipation, slow motility, lack of appetite, just so much cramping and pain. I lost 18 pounds from Long COVID, as someone who was already considered underweight their entire life, and almost had to get a shunt put into my chest to deliver nutrients because I was nearly completely unable to eat. For the first 6 months of Long COVID, if I could manage 600 calories a day, that was a good day.
Histamine intolerance: Oh boy. My worst symptoms, I don't even know where to start with it. If you know Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) it's very similar. I can only eat 19 foods. If i eat a single bite of something not on that list, it's 48 hours of absolute hell. Coughing, migraines, itchy eyes, such extreme nausea I cannot even describe it, panic/feeling of doom, racing heart rate, derealization, rash, uncontrollable muscle tremors. I only learned about histamine intolerance 5 months into having Long COVID so before that, I was experiencing these symptoms nearly every single day. Terrifying isn't even a strong enough word to describe how it felt to experience all this and have no idea what it was, how to stop it, or if it would ever stop. Really dark times.
Neurological issues: More of that derealization. Inability to concentrate. Anxiety. OCD-like symptoms such as thoughts getting "stuck" in my head, repeating 24/7 completely unable to stop them, genuinely felt like my brain had cracked open and I had lost my mind. Constant dizziness like I'm on a boat.
Sleep issues: I sleep like garbage. I have insomnia, I wake up dozens of times every night and every single time I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams. I can't sleep longer than 7 hours total no matter how exhausted I am. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted, I'm so so tired.
And finally. Just. Really intense suicidal ideation. My body, my health, my entire life has been stolen from me because someone else decided my life was worth less to them than wearing a mask or staying home if they feel sick. Before I got Long COVID, I was preparing to go to South Korea to teach English, then on to a PhD in neurolinguistics, I was supposed to meet my long distance partner and had already booked plane tickets when I got sick. All of that has been destroyed.
Most of us with Long COVID are stuck in a cycle of being extremely sick, then if you're lucky you'll slowly get better over months, just to get reinfected and go right back where you started or worse. Honestly, I'm not scared of dying from COVID. I'm scared of living for a long time, suffering from Long COVID the entire time. This isn't living.
I don't know how to end this now. I'm still fighting, I'm trying experimental treatments, I'm not giving up yet. I hope everyone reading this stays healthy and well.
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paarksunghoon · 14 days ago
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walk the line | jongseong
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SUMMARY: park jongseong has one regret and he's spent his entire life atoning for the pain he caused you. when you walk into office under the premise of working together, he's only got one shot to make things right before it's too late.
WORD COUNT: 33.1K
NOTES: this story was originally posted on my other blog, @pprodsuga. I will be transferring some work in due time and this is the first one! if it looks familiar, no need to panic or think I’m plagiarizing.
WARNINGS: contains smut.
PLAYLIST + MASTERLIST
***
When Jay was eleven years old, his father brought him a souvenir back from New York City when he traveled abroad for a week-long business trip. Jay has always been a big dreamer, too lost in his own reality to acknowledge the everyday life of grade school and all that came with it. It’s a tendency that his parents fostered and nurtured, instilling the belief that Jay could achieve anything he wanted in life if he dreamt hard enough. 
The “I Heart NY” pin sits in the first drawer to the right of his desk. Besides his quick wit and intelligence, Jay would love to believe that pin is the reason why his desk on the fiftieth floor overlooks the city of Seoul. 
Jay doesn’t make mistakes. He’s calculated and smart with his decisions based on cold, hard facts. He trusts his gut and prides himself in taking the high road when things get tough, letting losses go and holding his wins close to his heart. Practicing law isn’t for the weak, and Jay is not weak. 
Yet walking into his office feels bleak on some days. The castle he serves doesn’t seem as golden as it once did in the early stages of his career. The gifts given to him by clients and admirers that sit around his office feel undeserved, no matter how many hours he put into making them happy. His only sense of comfort is the large vinyl collection he has that sits between shelf upon shelf for no one to touch but him. 
Jay is meticulous in his work, rarely letting anyone into his inner circle without proving themselves first. It’s what makes him a great lawyer and what gave him a respectable name to his firm and others alike—Jay takes calculated risks and trusts no one, other than himself, completely.
Still, his days wane between fulfilling and empty. 
He’s one of the first people to arrive at the office with a briefcase in hand and hair slicked back with expensive gel, wearing suits tailored at a few grand apiece. Jay doesn’t leave early either. He watches associates under him file out of the office one by one as the hour goes by until there’s no one left but him. It’s only then will Jay cap his pen or queue an email to send in the morning to make it appear as if he hadn’t spent all night in his office. 
Jay loves his job. It gives him a sense of self fulfillment and it brings him joy to win cases for his clients, who range from high-paid celebrities to private equity firms. While the high salary and other liquid assets are perks of his profession, Jay puts his entire faith into his work and lets his winning streak do the talking for him. 
He has to, or else law school wouldn’t have been worth it. 
For three years, Jay studied from dusk until dawn for the chance to work in the career he’s been dreaming about since he received that ‘I Heart NY’ pin from his father all those years ago. Opening a particularly long chapter that was difficult to analyze never felt like a burden to Jay, not when his life would eventually amount to working at one of the big three law firms in Korea as Senior Partner. 
Jay holds more ownership than he once did and manages his own associate now. He’s no longer at the entrance phase of his career. Jay’s responsible for more finances and harder cases the firm encounters, and he knows his boss and the Managing Partner, Lee Heeseung, expects the best from him. 
Perhaps it’s why he feels compelled to put on his best smile and work until he feels exhausted because he knows he’ll be proud of it down the line. It’s what Jay assumes; all of the early mornings and late nights will prove to be worth it once he’s able to sit back and look down his long, successful career. People don’t admire him for nothing. 
Nothing beats watching the sunset over the horizon as he ends his workday. The golden hues on the sun cascading down the city skyline fills the atmosphere of the office, signaling the end of the day. It’s when Jay feels his happiness. He’ll let the associates go home to catch up on rest and see their friends and families before it approaches a late hour. 
Jay, however, stays behind to finish up on projects before his eyes grow weak and when he can’t keep his yawns at bay anymore. He’s already had his moments to leave at an appropriate time when he was a mere associate. Now, Jay has more responsibilities that he needs to maintain in order to feel like he really earned the title of Senior Partner. So he stays an hour after everybody goes home. 
Jay is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears the sound of knuckles on his glass door.
“Knock knock.” Jake Sim’s voice echoes through the large office, bringing Jay back to reality. He clears his throat and turns around to see the younger man standing before him with a blue manila folder in his hands. “I come bearing gifts.” 
“You’re a bit too late. Christmas was four months ago.” 
“Ha-ha,” Jake laughs dryly. “Consider this an early birthday present, then.” 
Jake presents the folder to his colleague, who opens the file and sifts through the papers at his fingertips. Jay’s eyebrow quirks with interest as he looks between the documents and the man standing before him. It’s something he’s been waiting on for weeks. Something that’ll make or break a case he’s been anxiously thinking about and what’s been making him stay behind until the clock ticks is the only audible sound on the entire floor. 
“I’m only going to say this once,” Jay begins. He points at Jake with the folder. “You’re the man.” 
“I’m always the man, you just don’t want to admit it.” 
The pair smile at each other after a beat. Jay puts the file on his desk and invites Jake to take a seat on the couch by his vinyl collection, one that the man knows not to touch. 
“I heard you’re almost done with the Yeon-Choi merger,” Jake says. “Heeseung mentioned it this morning.” 
“I’m waiting on a fax from them, actually.” Jay takes his specks off of his face and places it nearly on his desk. “Sunoo’s on the lookout for the document. Speaking of which.” 
Jake looks behind him to see Sunoo enter the office space as Jay waves him in. He hands over the stack of documents, freshly printed with the paper still warm to the touch. 
“Ms. Kang just faxed it over,” says Kim Sunoo, a first year associate. “Thank you,” Jay says as he receives the document. He looks at Jake. “Now I’m done with the Yeon-Choi merger.”
“You’d think two global giants in the world of finance  would be at odds with merging given their competitive streak in the past few years, but they’ve just signed a document that lists a communal agreement to share assets.” Jake watches Sunoo leave and waves goodbye before he walks out the door. “Managing this client was an insane move, even for you.” 
“Choi Analytics is nothing if not determined,” Jay informs. “So am I, Sim. You should know that by now.” 
“I think you bit off more than you could chew. You only secured that win with two days to spare.” 
“I have you, don’t I?” Jay teases with the tilt of his head. “Who was it that told you to talk to Yang Nari and convinced her to take that settlement before we could agree to the terms of the merger?” 
Jake laughs. “You, Park Jongseong.” 
“It’s all about working smarter, not harder. Remember that.” 
“Aye, aye, captain,” Jake says with a mock salute.
“Please don’t ever call me that again.”
“Whatever you say, captain.” 
Jay’s mouth quirks. “Go back to the bullpen and finish up the reports. Wouldn’t want you to pull another all nighter.” Jake leaves with a laugh and disappears around the corner. 
The large office with glass doors and windows feels like a familiar set up. His workspace, with his name and title underneath it, feels more like a trophy case than a managerial place of work. His walk to his office from the elevator takes him past the associate bullpen, situated right next to Heeseung’s. This space is his sanctuary and he’d like to believe he performs best under pressure. It’s why he doesn’t mind people peering into his office whenever he’s sitting at his desk. 
The days are long and the work is hard, but it’s the kind of job that makes Jay feel like he’s accomplished something in his life. Coming in as the sun rises and leaving just after it sets doesn’t feel like a sacrifice, nor does it feel like he’s losing out on opportunities when he’s got a bank account filled with zeroes and a penthouse apartment with the same view as his office. If anyone were to ask Jay about his life, he’d tell them he’s pretty damn happy. 
That’s what he tells himself, anyway. Every morning is spent repeating mantras in his head about how far he’s come with the hard work and diligence that came with law school. The late nights and busy weeks spent memorizing cases and writing essays led to his employment as Lee & Associates, where he managed to acquire promotion after promotion through diligent work.  
His newest title itself makes people look at Jay with respect, the kind of attitude he used to strive for when he was a humble law student. His early childhood was spent hearing his father talk about winning in court and the importance of believing in yourself when it comes time to face tough decisions. Jay’s father always advised him to do what he thinks is right, or else he’ll live with a regretful consequence for the rest of his life without the chance of rectifying it. 
Jay’s loyalty and integrity is what makes people revere him. He stands tall and proud, walking into every room like he built the place with his bare hands. There’s never a hair out of place and his wardrobe reflects his luxurious tastes, always a suit from abroad and accessories to match. 
He’s built a good life for himself. His father is still a practicing lawyer while his mother is considering retiring from her wildly successful jewelry business. Jay comes home for the holidays and visits them a few times a month for dinner when he has the time, and he does his best to keep the people around him happy. 
After all, that’s what Jay does best.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
It’s Thursday morning and Jay’s week has gone by without a hitch. His clients aren’t giving him a hard time and he hasn’t had a reason to step into the courthouse at all. In addition, he hasn’t heard any of the associates complain about the workload given to them nor has Jake needed help with a problem for Jay to amend. 
It feels odd to be as calm as he is. Jay wants to welcome it with open arms and sink into his seat until he feels like he’s vulnerable enough to sleep, but he knows that’s not in his job description. Instead, Jay needs to sleep with one eye open. 
“Park,” Heeseung says as he pokes his head into Jay’s offices. “Can you spare a few minutes and meet me in my office? I need to call an impromptu meeting.”
“Sure,” Jay says as he puts a file in his cabinet. “What’s it for?”
“It’s better if we talk behind closed doors. Jake and Sunghoon are already waiting for us.” 
Jay anxiously walks behind Heeseung and fixes his tie, patting it to his chest and smoothing it over in an attempt to distract himself from Heeseung’s cryptic words. He sees Sunghoon and Jake in the office and takes a seat on the armrest of Heeseung’s couch. 
“What’s so important that you need to discuss this in your office with the door closed?” Park Sunghoon, a fellow senior partner, asks. “We didn’t lose a billion dollars overnight, did we?”
“No, but I know you would’ve caught that before that would’ve happened,” Heeseung quips back. “You aren’t our financial expert for nothing.” 
“Damn straight.” 
“What did you bring us in for, Heeseung?” Jake asks. Heeseung takes a moment to gather himself, eyes darting around the office before speaking. 
“It’s about the Hybe Records case.”
“They’re holding a tight leash on people they sign on their main label or subsidiaries,” Jay nods. “Won't settle for a penny less than the recoupment.”
“Which is why a portion of people signed with Hybe came to us to help them rewrite the contracts from here on out,” Sunghoon adds. “Hybe came to us with a bullshit settlement offer and we declined. We’re still working on finding a chink in the armor.”
“Right,” Heeseung says. “What else do we know about the case?” 
“Hybe acts as the bank and their musicians take out a loan to make an album,” Jake says, pacing in Heeseung’s office with his arms outstretched for emphasis. “The artist can use that money however they like and the sales made go right back to the label before they can make a profit.”
“Exactly,” Jay nods, “which is why the label has been terminating their contractual agreement before they can produce the agreed amount of records.”
“Hybe has more than enough money for a buyout.” Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s fucked up.”
“The label keeps the catalog and the money while the musician gets nothing.” Jay frowns. 
“We all know it’s why musicians and idols pick up endorsements or pick up acting,” Heeseung mentions. “I mean, the money they get from other ventures supplements their income that they don’t get from music. But because that’s normal practice and it doesn’t help our sob story angle, I don’t know where else to turn to.”
“We’ve been fighting this day and night for weeks. You’re not telling me you’re dropping this, are you?” Sunghoon asks. 
“Between Jay’s regular clients, Jake’s assisting, my workload, and your cases, we don’t have the bandwidth to fight this. Quite frankly, I don’t trust anyone to work on this but you three.” 
“Is there something we should know about?” Jay inquires. “Did Hybe threaten us?”
“No, nothing like that.” Heeseung sighs. “Look, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m burnt out. Hybe isn’t making this easy on us and we’re running out of time. What I’m trying to say is I’ve consulted with another firm and have hired outside help. We need fresh eyes on this case.” 
Jay nervously runs his hand through his hair. 
Heeseung’s right, this lawsuit is eating up most of his hours and consumes his thoughts when he’s off the clock. The people being affected are anywhere between starving artists and people who can afford to pay him his billables without question. But the greater good is what Jay thinks about and realistically, he knows it would hurt him to see so many people lose their avenue to pursue their passions. 
Hearing stories from clients makes his heart lurch. Each deposition to discuss what happened behind closed doors with label executives makes Jay’s pursuit that much stronger. To know he has the privilege of obtaining a law degree and being able to work in his dream career without much of a hitch makes him feel guilty when he knows the very people sitting in front of him are putting their passions on the line. It makes him work harder.
He’s no longer the law student that slaved away writing essays and pulling all-nighters to accomplish a task that wouldn’t matter in the long run. Now, all of Jay’s efforts matter. His work will be impacted for years to come and he can’t afford to misstep when handling clients. It’s why he feels so strongly about this case and why it’s hard for him to stop thinking about it when he gets home. A penthouse overlooking the city means nothing if he can’t help the people who got him there. 
Jay knows Sunghoon and Jake feel the same way, too. Sunghoon, who came from a similar background to Jay, has always struggled with finding his voice in the business of law. Now as a senior partner with more at stake, he knows his friend will stand his ground if that means his clients walk away with everything they asked for. Jake, a first year associate having graduated law school after taking a few years off from college, is arguably the most sensitive of the three. He loves his work and finds passion in the people he helps represent. It’s why Jay trusts him and why he chose Jake to be his associate in the first place. 
To take action on behalf of his clients means to succeed. Jay knows he comes from wealth and privilege, and he’d likely be just fine if he chose a career that wasn’t law. But his foot is in the door because his father was able to give him a legacy standard at law school, and it would be a shame to let that go to waste as if he didn’t have anything to prove. Jay knows he does. 
“As we already know,” Heeseung begins to say, “we need all the help we can get on the Hybe Records case. They’re the most powerful label in all of Asia and they’ve got their teeth sunk in every Asian market.”
“They’ve got a dozen smaller labels beneath them and they’re always looking to convince independent labels to give up their ownership,” Jay says. “It’ll be hard to reach a settlement for all of them.”
“I know,” Heeseung sighs. He leans on the front of his desk. “I know you guys can handle it. Between the four of us, we can try to win this thing but it’ll take more time than they’re giving us.” 
“Kid genius could probably read up on their files by tomorrow morning,” Sunghoon snorts as Jake elbows his rib cage. 
“Don’t be silly, Sunghoon. I couldn’t possibly do that in a single night.” Jake smirks. “Give me two days.”
“Show off,” Sunghoon mutters with a hidden grin. 
“Even so, it won’t be enough to fight them. Hybe has hired a plethora of lawyers to back them up and block us out.” Heeseung crosses his arm and is sure to maintain eye contact with the three boys in front of him. “It’s important to keep our clientele, but imagine how much business this would bring if we won.” 
“You think that many musicians would hire us?” Jake asks. 
“I think that many musicians care about owning their own music and not having to pay back a recoupment.” 
“The amount an artist has to pay back before they keep their earnings,” Jake says with pursed lips. “Right. That’s really unfair.”
“That’s the music industry for you.” 
“Labels are greedy as shit,” Sunghoon says with bitterness in his tone. “They make a promise to up and coming musicians and swear they’ll be successful by the end of the year, but they don’t really care about that. They’ll give money to make albums but won’t care if these people live or die if they don’t see a late profit.” 
“It’s sickening,” Jake adds. “It should be illegal for musicians having to take endorsements and sponsorships just to pay the bills. They look like sellouts.”
“I don’t like it any less than you guys do,” Heeseung responds. “But that’s the way it works. We just need to find a good enough reason for them to settle with us. We aren’t budging on the recoupment.”
“Well, I’m glad we all agree that musicians shouldn’t have to pay back their loan.” 
“I’m confident in you all,” Heeseung tells them. “Jay, you’re one of my best guys. You close deals and negotiate settlements like no one I’ve ever seen before. Sunghoon, you’ve been an incredible lawyer since the moment we hired you and you’re the only person I don’t have to keep my eye on.” Heeseung turns to take. “And Jake, you’re a gifted associate with a knack for getting people to tell you the truth. I’ve never met anyone quite like you either.” 
“He makes depositions seem like fun,” Sunghoon laughs. 
Jake smiles dramatically. “Nobody can lie to this beautiful face.” 
“What I’m trying to say is,” Heeseung interjects, “is that you’re all incredible lawyers and I’ve never regretted hiring you.”
“There’s always a but,” Jay comments. Heeseung nods.
“But, our best isn’t enough. Our best doesn’t account for the numerous legal and financial attacks Hybe Records will bestow on us. We’ve been thinking big but we need to think bigger. We need to think outside the box.”
“What do you propose?” Jay asks. “We’ve already gotten a first meeting with Hybe and God knows they’ll pressure us to give them an answer soon. I know that they know we won’t budge and are probably working with a counter move as we speak.” 
“We’re bringing in someone from an outside firm.”
“What?” Sunghoon says. “Which one?” 
“Tang-Young,” replies Heeseung. “They’re a powerful firm, as we know, and were one of the few who declined to represent Hybe.”
“We trust them, right?” Jake asks. 
“We do, yes,” Heeseung confirms with a single nod. “Tang-Young have been kind to us and I’d like to believe we’ve been the same to them. We’ve been invited to consult on cases before and they’ve helped us out in the past, albeit it’s been a while. But we need all the help we can get and they were enthusiastic about assisting us.” 
“I don’t know,” Jay says. “Catching someone else up to speed while we’re this far down the line? That seems like busy work. Unless we have another Jake who can read and memorize documents as quickly as he can, I don’t know how much help they’ll be.” 
“Oh, I think you’ll be pleased with our colleague,” Heeseung says cryptically. Jay looks at him with confusion. “You guys trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course,” says Sunghoon. “I wouldn’t be working here if I didn’t.” 
“Then I’ll need you to trust me when I say the partner working with us is the best in the business. She’s an old friend and someone I confide in, which if you know me, is hard to do unless you work at this firm.” 
“Why are you telling us this?” Jake asks. 
Heeseung sighs. “I’m saying this now because I didn’t have time to discuss the partnership prior to today because of deadlines and we need all the help we can get. A friend from law school, Kazuha, was willing to help us out since we assisted on that auto lawsuit a few months back.” 
“We don’t need to worry,” Sunghoon says. “This is the best law firm in Korea and we have a history of having the highest rate in cases closed successfully. You’re our leader, Heeseung. We know you wouldn’t go behind our backs unless it was important.” 
“We need a miracle for this one,” says Heeseung. “Jay’s already running point on this case but he alone can’t handle the burden.” 
A sinking feeling festers in Jay’s chest. He knows that name–Kazuha–from when he was in law school and knew her family to have built Asia’s largest corporate law firm from the ground up. They’re respectable, highly profitable, and a company Jay would rather not think about because hearing that name reminds him of his deepest regrets. 
His week is offset by Heeseung’s sudden news. Jay has never doubted his elder, especially since Heeseung was a mentor to Jay in his early years of his career, but the hairs on the back of his neck perk up at the sight of Heeseung periodically looking at Jay. He doesn’t think Sunghoon or Jake notices the awkward tension in the room either, too engrossed with talking strategy plans on how to make sure the new, mysterious partner is up-to-date. 
Jay fiddles with the rings adorned on his fingers. The expensive jewelry, some of which are presents to himself and others gifts from his parents, provide a temporary distraction for him. They’re warm to the touch with how often he twists them for every word Heeseung speaks. Jay’s throat suddenly feels too dry. 
“We’ll be fine,” Sunghoon tells Jake, forcing Jay to tune back into the conversation. “I think we’re all on edge because this is by far the biggest case we’ve handled in the past few years.” 
“There are dozens of clients who are filing a lawsuit against Hybe but it isn’t considered class action yet,” Heeseung replies. “We could very well set a precedent if we manage to win this thing.”
“That would put the firm on the map!” Jake exclaims. “Just think about it. If we manage to settle in our favor so that these musicians don’t have to pay the label back, we could set an example so other major labels follow through with no recoupment.” 
“This is why everything’s been kept under wraps and why I’ve had to act before consulting you three.” Heeseung finds a pen from his desk and twirls it in between his fingers. “I love this company. I became managing partner not too long ago and my predecessor took his name off of the door and added mine because he thought I could do something with the firm. You three are people I trust more than anyone else and I wouldn’t have agreed to let you work on it if I didn’t believe we could succeed.” 
Jay can sense the nervousness and anxiety in Heeseung’s tone. In all of his years working with him, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen the man as on edge as he is now. Heeseung cannot manage to sit still and the pen his fingers are distracting him almost like Jay’s rings are. It’s no wonder they work so well together. 
“We can do it, Heeseung,” Sunghoon says in an attempt to quell the atmosphere. “It’s hard and tedious, but what case isn’t?”
“Besides, we have Jay. He is the best closer in Seoul,” Jake vouches, a coy smirk sitting on the edge of his lips as Heeseung merely smiles and shrugs in casual agreement.
The sounds of knuckles rapping on Heeseung’s glass door interrupts their conversation. The image of you standing before him knocks the air out of his lungs.
He’s brought back to when he was a second year law student, struggling in his criminal law class before meeting you for the first time. Your timid and quiet demeanor is nothing compared to the confidence you exude in the present day. Right now, you look put together with your all-black attire and red bottom heels to match. The way you’ve styled your hair allows your face to be seen instead of using it as a tool to hide yourself. Even with all of your perceived shortcomings, Jay remembers you as timid but headstrong. Now, it looks like he’s staring at someone he doesn’t recognize. 
Jay feels innocent again, traveling back to a time before work became the sole focus of his life and before the guilt of what he did to you ate him alive. It feels almost unnatural for him to see you in a professional setting. Sitting in the campus library with opened books or looking at you from across the table of a cheap ramen restaurant is where Jay’s used to seeing you. 
Heeseung’s office is the last place he’d ever expect to run into you. 
The last Jay heard, you were off practicing law in Busan before heading to New York for a few years to consult on Korean-American affairs until your visa expired. He never had the opportunity to see you in court before, not since law school.
There was a time when Jay couldn’t step into a courthouse without wondering if you were inside with him. With every corner turned and every door opened, Jay would anticipate seeing that same beautiful and innocent face locking eyes with him as he stepped into the room. Jay would picture you in those long floral dresses you loved so much staring at him with anger in your eyes, wearing an expression caused by actions he’d never be able to atone for.
Guilt used to eat him from the inside out. The moment his alarm clock woke him up was when the guilt would settle deep within his chest. For a while, this feeling towards the way things ended with you was the reason why he pushed himself to stay in the office after everybody else left, back when he was a first year associate. Guilt led Jay to work three times as hard as everyone else and why he will never leave a stone unturned. 
While that culpability subdued with the time that has passed, none of that matters now. Seeing you in Heeseung’s office with a friendly smile on your face makes that sense of wrongdoing resurface all at once. 
The woman he sees before him is not the woman he remembers. Jay still has the same overly confident, hardworking attitude he exhibited when he knew you back in law school. He’s still the same person who gets tongue-tied when he looks at you and he’s still the same person who regrets never calling you after you both graduated. 
Unlike the disheveled mess Jay remembers from when he last saw you, you’ve become polished. He sees that you’ve grown into yourself with your shoulders held back and head looking straight in front of you instead of casting your gaze to the floor. Your eyes meet everyone in the room, his included. You wear a big smile on your face and take a step forward before bowing towards him and his colleagues. 
Jay doesn’t think he deserves that respect from you.
“Jay’s the second best,” you comment. Even your speech has matured. “I happen to be the first.”
“Everyone, meet Kim Y/N.” Heeseung takes a step forward to return your bow and shake your hand, welcoming you into his office. 
“Y-Y/N?” Jay stutters, eyes widened in shock when he spots you next to Heeseung. 
The reaction is unwarranted and even he can’t believe his words came out like that. Jay pays no attention to Sunghoon and Jake, who look at him with quizzical expressions. Jay can only focus on you, with the way your pantsuit hugs your body and the way your high heels make you stand taller than he remembers you. You’re very confident. Jay wonders what must have changed in the time he last saw you until now.
“In the flesh, Park. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Y/N’s the best chance we got to win this against the biggest record label in Korea,” Heeseung interrupts, forcing Jay to push his thoughts aside. “I don’t need to remind you that our clients are high profile names trying to make a case for musicians who can’t afford to pay back the recoupment. If we lose this, we lose their business. It won’t look good for the company if we don’t secure a public win.”
“A public win means a public loss,” you chime in. “Hybe’s settlement deal is bullshit and we all know it.” 
“Exactly.” Heeseung points at everyone in the room before landing on you. “I know we don’t ask for outside help but we need Y/N. I trust everyone to make her feel welcomed and to give her anything she needs.” 
“It would be an honor,” Jake says before stepping in front of you to bow with his body perpendicular to the floor below him. “Sim Jayeun, but feel free to call me Jake. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He outstretches his hand to you for good measure and is pleased when you reciprocate. His kindness brings a smile to your face.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Jake. I look forward to working together.” The aforementioned nearly falters in his movements as he takes a step back, hearing Sunghoon snickering behind him before you turn your attention to him. “You must be Park Sunghoon. I’ve kept up with your work for a while now. Your work with Kim Mingyu against General Motors was impressive.” 
“All in a day’s work,” Sunghoon says as he brushes his shoulders for dramatic effect. “I’m honored that you know about it.” 
“You saved Mingyu’s reputation for being a whistleblower and forced the company’s hand to not only change their flawed design, but to pay out the victims. You bled that company dry in the process to compensate for the casualties. That’s something worth talking about,” you tell him. “It’s impressive to me.” 
Jay swears he sees Sunghoon blush. 
“Thank you,” says the latter, clearing his throat. “It means a lot that you said that.” 
“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been either.”
Your eyes move towards Jay and he expects to see nothing short of a scowl painted on your lips because the last time he saw you, he remembers Jung Iseul asked him if he loved you in front of thirty of your classmates. 
Jay said no. 
He regrets how he handled it. He wishes he could turn back time and tell Iseul and her friends to leave you alone, and tell her the way she acted was nothing short of childish. Jay would like to believe he’d pull you away from wandering eyes and hold you until your eyes were dry if he was able to turn back time and relive that awful moment, but he can’t. The memory of you looking at him with betrayal in your eyes is what keeps him up at night. 
Jay thought of his own needs before yours, selfishly acting to protect himself from the embarrassment of a public confession instead of thinking about how humiliating it must’ve been for you. Your classmates were never the nicest and often commented on your quiet and shy demeanor. Jay always tried to do his best to encourage you to be the best version of yourself, growing silently frustrated that you’d allow people to say harsh things about your skill sets instead of proving them wrong. What he failed to realize is that you’d grow into yourself at your own time. 
You're not the timid girl you used to be. Jay sees the fruits of your labor standing in front of him. 
When you look at him, Jay’s breath catches in his throat. It’s been years since he last saw you in person and he can only imagine what you must be thinking. Are you seething? Are you angry? Are you here for revenge? Do you still think about that night as frequently as he does? 
Any thoughts of you being spiteful are thrown out the window when he hears you speak in that same, soft tone you always reserved for him. 
“Hi, Jay.” 
He’s quiet for a second too long because he sees Heeseung glaring at him from the corner of his eye.
“Hey.” Jay says pathetically, shifting from one foot to another. “Long time no see.”
“Woah, wait. Do you two know each other?” Jake asks, pointing between the two of you. 
“We shared a few classes in law school,” you explain. “We even graduated in the same year.” 
“Oh, wow.” 
You tilt your head as you look at him. “You seem surprised.” “I’m just shocked that you two know each other,” Jake says. “You have the highest closing rate in all of Seoul and you’re telling me you went to law school with my boss?”
“I’m trying not to take offense to that,” says Jay, who furrows his eyebrows. The atmosphere is too much for his liking and suddenly he feels as if his tie is too tight around his neck. 
“We knew each other a long time ago, but it’s always nice to see a familiar face.” You smile at Jay before turning to Heeseung. “When do I start?”
“Whenever you’d like, but knowing you, you’ve already begun drafting strategies.” 
You grin. “You know me very well, Heeseung.”
“Y/N will be working from our office a few times a week for the next few months to make things easier. She’ll still be handling cases from her firm with an emphasis on the Hybe lawsuit.” 
“Thank you for welcoming me,” you tell everyone before looking at Heeseung. “Care to show me to my temporary office?” 
He smiles. “Right this way.” 
“It was lovely meeting you all,” you say before turning to leave. You pause and turn to face Jay. “It really is nice to see you again.” 
He stands in his spot at a loss for words. It feels as if his feet are planted on the ground with no way to make him move. His mouth might as well be hung open with the way he stares at you and merely nods. Speaking makes him feel like he’s going to choke and say the wrong thing, so he opts to say nothing. 
You exit behind Heeseung without sparing him a second glance and he watches as your figure disappears around the corner, listening until he can’t hear the sound of your voice speaking with Heeseung. His hands are planted firmly in his pocket, the fabric of his suit providing a distraction from the sudden notion of seeing you after all these years. 
He feels Jake and Sunghoon looking at him from the side. Sunghoon merely walks past Jay and offers a pat on the shoulder while Jake enthusiastically stands from his seat and bounces with excitement. 
“You know Kim Y/N? The Kim Y/N?”
“It was a long time ago,” Jay says with a small voice. “We used to be study partners.”
“No fucking way,” Jake swears with his hands on his hips. “How come you never told me? She’s like, one of the most respected lawyers in all of Asia. Did you hear about her work on that Cheong-Smith case back in New York? God knows how tedious working between America and Korea must’ve been. She’s so fucking cool, Jongseong. A badass is what she is. I want to be her one day.”
Jay’s mouth quirks in a half smile. He knows you’ve built a reputation but refuses to read about you in the newspaper or listen to conversation where your name has been brought up. It brings painful memories and no matter how much he chastises himself for being in the wrong, part of him can’t help but hurt and yearn for you. 
If Jake notices Jay’s quiet demeanor, he doesn’t acknowledge it. The former is pacing in Heeeung’s office with his hands rubbing his face as if he’s won the lottery. Jay’s envious of Jake’s ignorance, in a way. He wishes he could forget that night and re-do his friendship with you. Jay wishes he could meet the person you are now if that means rejecting you in front of your classmates never happened. 
“Y/N’s a great lawyer,” Jay finally says. “I’m glad she’ll be working with us.”
“So fucking cool,” Jake whispers in disbelief. He turns to Jay. “I can show her around the office and, you know, show her the ropes.”
“Don’t try anything.” 
Jake puts his arms up in mock surrender. “Hey man, I won’t. Y/N’s someone I view as a mentor. I don’t have weird, unresolved romantic feelings like you do.” 
Jay opens his mouth in disbelief as Jake winks at him before walking out of Heeseung’s office. He sits with his thoughts and wonders if this meeting was a figment of his imagination and if he’d wake up with you halfway across the world and his life being as normal as it can be. 
But he sees you enter your own private space when he walks to the break room and tries not to stare at you too long. It wouldn't be good for his health.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
“This office is pretty nice.” 
Your jaw nearly drops at the sight before you. The tall windows overlooking the city boasts a beautiful skyline with pedestrians barely visible from where you stand. The carpeted floor is plush against the click of your heels and the temperature in the room is just warm enough for you to set your suit jacket atop the armrest of the brown leather couch. 
“It used to be mine before I became the managing partner,” Heeseung tells you. 
“I see. That must be why I like the interior design.” 
Coming back to Seoul six months ago wasn’t your idea. But your visa in America had expired and there was no legitimate reason for you to extend your time abroad. With a heavy heart, you packed your bags and returned to the city with unfavorable memories you hoped to put behind you. 
However, it seems that life finds a way to throw you a curveball and make you face your fears. Returning to Seoul wasn’t for the faint of heart. The familiar sounds of people walking and talking in the street and the scent of street food vendors warmed your heart as best as it could. The memories of your childhood summers spent frolicking in the city because your parents were too busy pursuing their dreams to entertain yours will forever remain a tasteless memory. The sound of squeaky wheels on vendor carts is bittersweet. 
Upon returning, you’d taken a couple of weeks to settle into a new apartment just a few towns outside of the city. The modest apartment is nothing like the penthouse you rented in New York. The amenities were appealing at first, with the tall ceilings and marble statues adorning each room. The affluent neighborhood you lived in felt familiar from your childhood days, although feeling at home wasn’t something you think you could ever do if you lived in a house made of glass. 
The mental images of running inside your parents’ gargantuan household with them nowhere to be seen is imprinted in your mind when you close your eyes. Your mother’s office door that always remained closed and uninviting to anyone but your father and older brother felt demoralizing, as did your father’s study, which was never to be entered. The large house felt more like a fortress than a home. The empty hallways with no one to converse with felt like a prison with your bedroom being your only sanctuary. 
The two bedroom apartment in a modest neighborhood outside of Seoul feels like home to you. The neighbors who garden when it’s warm out and retreat on rainy days feel like friends rather than people you live next to. The children on their way to school wave at you before work and make you promise not to work too late, which is likely why you leave your office at a reasonable hour. If you bring your work home with you and hide behind your curtains as you pretend to watch TV, that’s nobody’s business but your own.
You jumped at the idea of leaving Seoul as you approached your second year in your law career. The idea of exploring a new country in a language you half-spoke felt more exciting than horrifying. Knowing your mentor had recommended you for the apprenticeship served as the encouragement you needed to pack your belongings and say goodbye to your friends, family, and life as you knew it. 
If you’re being honest with yourself, you were running away from your childhood and the wound Jay had opened when he left you alone in front of your classmates. 
That hurtful memory reopened itself when Kazuha pitched the idea of working with Lee & Associates on this case. The both of you know you’re her top choice to fight this battle given your brother’s notable status and area of expertise. Your relation to your sibling is a secret you keep close to yourself with only a select few people in your life knowing, preferring to keep yourself out of the limelight as best as you can. 
Yet the idea of working with Jay made these unresolved feelings bloom at the surface when you thought you had locked them in a box and threw the key away. The sleepless nights were just shy of affecting your work. Day after day, you’d stare at the Hybe Records file to see what information had been gathered, glossing over Jay’s name on each document and each email that was forwarded to your inbox. It hurt over and over again, just like it did when he left you standing alone, never to return. 
But life never works out the way you want it to. Coming back to Seoul was for the best and facing old enemies and seeing old friends is part of your path. Having the grace to prepare yourself makes you reflect on how much you’ve grown in the years you spent away from Korea and that you’re ready to move past the hurdle that’s been keeping you tied down for so long. Or so you tell yourself. 
Heeseung knocks his shoulders with yours. “You don’t seem as shocked to see Jay as I thought you’d be.” 
“I had a few weeks to prepare,” you tell him as the two of you face the scenery in front. “When Kazuha told me I was her first choice to work this lawsuit, I saw Jay’s name sitting at the top of the file.”
“It’s his case, technically. But we all know you’ll outshine him in one way or another.” 
You shake your head. “I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes, Heeseung. I’m just here to do my job.” 
“And see an old friend, I’d assume.” This time, you knock your shoulders against his. 
“Oh, you know it’s always good to see you when I’m on this side of town.”
Heeseung smiles, pleased. “I know it’s been a while since the two of you have seen each other and I hope you know that you weren’t picked for any dubious reasons.”
“I know, Hee.” The man looks at you, tilting his head to assess the true intentions behind your words. “Seriously, I’m fine.” 
“This company would have benefitted from your work,” he replies. “Still, I’m sorry for how things worked out.” 
“That was ages ago,” you wave off. “You really don’t need to apologize for it. I appreciate you fighting to hire me, but Jay has done a wonderful job and you can’t deny that.”
Heeseung shakes his head. “No, I really can’t. He’s one of my best. One of the best lawyers in Korea, I’d argue.” 
“What does that make me?” you joke.
“It makes you the best in the universe.” 
You throw a fond smile Heeseung’s way. “It really is nice to see you again.”
“I meant it when I said you could reach out for anything. 
“Most days, I just need a friend.”
Heeseung quirks an eyebrow. “Is that why you text me photos of you baking at three in the morning?” 
“Precisely. What else would I text you about?” 
The man laughs. “I love the ones where your cat sits on the counter to watch. I love Gerry.”
“For the love of God, Heeseung. Her name is Miso.”
“Yeah, but your cat is orange like a tangerine and in my head, Gerry, is a cute nickname for tangerine.”
“You need to re-evaluate your definition of cute.” 
Heeseung smiles at you fondly and tilts his head. He knows he’s looking at a version of you no one in Seoul has seen before. The new person standing before him is confident in herself and her capabilities, no longer shying away from the spotlight. The person you are now could look him in the eye and call him an equal, unlike when you were an emerging teenager dealing with peer pressure and hormonal acne. 
“Your mom calls mine from time to time, you know,” Heeseung says after a short pause. 
You snort. “Oh God. Please don’t tell me Lee Jiwoo cares about what my mother, of all people, has to say.” 
He shrugs. “She doesn’t, but they were neighbors for forty years before my parents moved. I think your mom has some weird attachment to the past.” 
“You’re telling me,” you say as you roll your eyes. “I remember as kids, she’d force me to go over to your house with the hopes that we’d fall in love and get married someday.” 
Heeseung laughs. “God, you were so hung up on Lee Seokmin that you barely paid attention to me.” 
“If I recall correctly, you were head over heels with Kang Ara and that made you a lovesick fool. Who knew you were into older women?”
“She was nice enough to help me with my homework, okay?” Heeseung defends himself as he laughs. 
Recounting childhood memories with you feels warm. When you’d left Seoul in pursuit of a career in America, Heeseung knew you were running away from your problems rather than facing them. He grew up seeing the harsh reality that was strict parents who placed too high of a standard on you whereas your older brother remained unharmed by their lashings and expectations. 
Heeseung always chided the way his friends would tease him when he walked you home from school or offered to make room for you in his house when your parents were home. He’d witnessed the volatile relationship between the three of you and offered his household as a sanctuary for as long as he could. Heeseung’s parents offered the kind of hospitality he wished you could receive from your own parents. 
Still, it feels warm to know you chose to return. Seeing you in your element makes Heeseung think he must’ve done something right all those years ago, even if you briefly lost touch when you moved overseas. 
“I’m really grateful for you, Hee.” You lean your head on his shoulder and cross your arms in front of your chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for being so nice to me when we were kids. You were always so popular with the girls and every guy wanted to be you. I know people made fun of me when we’d walk home from school together. Knowing you defended me and made me feel like a normal person despite my relationship with my parents makes me feel happy.” 
“I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?” Heeseung asks. He feels you nod against him. “It killed me to see you fight with your parents and I didn’t care that Han Bora got jealous of you or that Choi Youngchul made fun of me for having a girl around. You were more than that to me.” 
“I love my brother, I really do.” You bite your lip to keep a sigh at bay. “But he’ll never understand how my parents treated me. I know he loves me and I know he did everything he could to protect me when we were younger, but he still reaped the benefits from our parents.” 
“No apology from them can outdo everything you went through,” Heeseung says. He leans his head on top of yours. “You were my best friend, even if I didn’t say that to you. Everyone at school wanted to be my friend because I went puberty faster than everyone else but you always treated me as the same kid who got a bloody nose after falling face first on the pavement.”
Heeseung smiles when he hears you laugh. “I told you to tie your shoe laces.”
“SInce when do I listen to what you say?” 
You pull yourself from him. “Thanks for always being there for me, Hee. I hope you know I’ll work my hardest to win this case.” 
A knock at the door brings both of your attention behind you. Jake stands politely and bows his head as he enters when Heeseung beckons him inside. 
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Jake says carefully. 
“Not at all,” Heeseung assures. “Is there something you need?”
“Actually, I was wondering if I could give Y/N a tour of the office. I’d love to show her around so she feels more comfortable and familiar.” 
“That’s a great idea, Jake.” Heeseung turns to you. “Why don’t you settle in and make yourself at home for an hour, yeah? Let Jake take you to the cafe that’s across the street and use my company card to pay for it.” 
“I’ll never say no to you paying.” Heeseung rolls his eyes at your playful banter but hands you his credit card regardless. Seeing you this open with him warms his heart. 
“We won’t be long,” Jake assures. 
Jay approaches where the three of you are standing and busies himself in the bullpen when he notices you and Jake walking out of the office. Pretending to be intensely reading a document about finance, Jay prays you don’t see him and waits until the two of you are out of sight to walk towards Heeseung. 
His footsteps feel heavy as he enters what is to be assumed, your office. 
“I already know what you’re thinking,” says Heeseung with his hands in his pockets. 
“Then you know I’m going to ask you what the hell is going on.” 
Jay has seen his fair share of hard moments from the man standing in front of him, whether in court or behind closed doors. He knows Heeseung to be someone that mentors by giving tough love and credit where it’s due, playing the role of a fair judge in the name of building a strong career. Jay is no stranger to people being upset with him, least of all Heeseung. 
“Do I need to remind you that I'm the managing partner and that I don’t need to consult you on my decisions?” 
“You don’t,” Jay begins, “but you know the history I have with Y/N. A little heads up would’ve been nice.” 
“We don’t always get a heads up when the stakes are high, Jay. You know that. I tried to be as forthcoming as best as I could but we only heard confirmation a few days ago and you were out of the office preparing for your briefing.” 
Jay breathes deeply. “You of all people know we left on bad terms.” 
“So you should know that Y/N is like my sister,” Heeseung retorts. Jay can hear the slight venom in his elder’s tone. “I’m able to set aside my differences because it’s my job to do so and because I like you.” 
“Heeseung–”
“Have you ever stopped to consider that you’re the only person making this awkward?” Heeseung asks, looking at Jay directly into his eyes. “Nobody else seems to be having any problems with Y/N joining this lawsuit.
“You are one of the best lawyers Korea has ever had the privilege of seeing, Jay. Hell, this company owes you a lot. But you can’t tell me that Y/N being here has affected you this much to the point of coming to talk to me about it in my office.”
Jay remains silent knowing Heeseung’s right, even if his pride refuses to quell. 
“You made your choice all those years ago and from the looks of it, Y/N seems to have moved on.” Jay nearly chokes at Heeseung’s words. “You need to move on as well, Jay. Do whatever it is you have to do to get your head straight.”
Jay shuts his eyes for a brief second. “It’s really hard, Heeseung. It’s hard to forget.” 
Heeseung’s expression softens. “She’s not seeing anyone.”
Jay abruptly opens his eyes. 
“That is not what I meant.”
Heeseung smirks. “Sure it wasn’t.”
“I’m serious, Lee. I just regret how it all went down and I regret not reaching out after graduation. My parents took me abroad for the summer to celebrate. I was so caught up that I didn’t make time for Y/N.”
“You can still make time for her now.” 
Jay shakes his head. “It’s too late. I’d bet anything to know she hates me.”
“Well, I know for a fact that she doesn’t. If we’re talking about the same Y/N you and I both knew all of those years ago, then you know she doesn’t hold grudges.” 
“But we know she can.” Jay sighs. “You know about her parents.”
“Two people bringing her into this world just to treat her like nothing is far different than a boy not calling her back.” Jay tries to not take his comment to heart no matter how much it stings. “The difference between you and them is that you have the chance to make this right and correct your wrongs.
“But let me make myself clear. You are to work with Y/N and make her feel welcomed during her time on this case. I don’t care how you do it as long as your head is clear and you can work beside her without letting your feelings get in the way.” 
“Understood.” 
Heeseung’s expression softens. “You know I care about you, man. I wouldn’t have agreed to be your mentor if I didn’t think you were worth it.” 
Jay nods. “I know. I just forgot that you two knew each other as well.” 
“You should’ve seen Y/N back when she was in middle school. Still as timid as she was in law school but still the kindhearted person we know.” 
Jay tries to picture what you were like as a child. He’s seen photos of you from preschool until the day you graduated college and wonders if you were the same shy, timid girl he knew you to be before the two of you parted ways. Would you two have been friends in elementary school? What kind of foods did you like to eat? Did you have a happy childhood? 
He knows the answer is complicated. Jay’s assumption is that your parents, who happen to manage the biggest law firm in Korea through defending oil companies, did not value you as much as they valued your older brother. He, who was their prized possession, often tried to pull you into the spotlight with him. Jay remembers you talking about him fondly like he hung the moon in your night sky. It brought him a sense of peace to know there was someone always looking out for you when you were younger. 
After all, your brother was the only form of family who came to your graduation during law school. 
Jay remembers him standing tall, clad in a mask and clothing that made him unrecognizable. He blended in with the crowd and made himself seem smaller than he actually was in order to remain undetectable by people who weren’t you. Jay always wondered why you were hellbent on keeping your brother’s identity a secret and why you refused to share photos of him despite having shown him other pictures of you in your youth, but it made sense once Jay saw him pull the mask down and smile for a picture. 
He knows he doesn’t deserve to ask you how your brother has been or what you’ve been up to since he last saw you all those years ago. Jay feels a lump grow in his throat when he thinks about working with you and having to talk to you about the case against Hybe. He wants to, and he wants to build a relationship with you that doesn’t result in him panicking when you look into his eyes, but he doesn’t know where to start.
“Don’t think too hard about it,” Heeseung advises when he notices Jay growing quiet. “You’ll know what to do when the time comes.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jay says with a sigh. “You weren’t the one who broke her heart.” 
“Y/N’s resilient. You and I both know the lengths she went through as a kid and how successful she is now. She wouldn’t have taken this case if she wasn’t willing to work with you. That should be a sign in itself.” 
Jay takes Heeseung’s words into consideration, but it goes through one ear and then out the other. His heart won’t stop beating at a rapid pace and he can’t help but feel like there’s no hope for him at all.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
Heeseung seems to know you too well. 
The cafe across the street speaks to your soul with their delicious drinks and delectable pastry menu. You buy something for Jake on Heeseung’s card too. He merely looks at you with wide eyes and stutters over his words when he asks if you’re allowed to do that, to which you wave him off and say you’ve known Heeseung far too long for him to care about another fifteen dollars missing from the company funds. 
“How long have you known Heeseung?” Jake asks as he takes a sip of his drink. The two of you sit cross from one another, basking in the atmosphere of the lunch rush hour. 
“Our whole lives, practically. I think his parents moved next to mine way before either of us were born. They always joked that we’d get married and have that fairytale ending.” 
Jake raises his eyebrows. “Is that still happening?”
“God no,” you say, shaking your head. “Heeseung is like a brother to me. He’d walk me to and from school when we were younger and hung out with me, back when I was a timid mess.” 
“I don’t think I could ever imagine you as shy.” Jake blushes when he realizes he’s speaking candidly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” 
“Pray tell.” 
“W-Well,” Jake stutters, “it’s just that, people talk and I know you know that. I’ve heard people brag about what an amazing attorney you are and how you dominate the courtroom. Or, you know, even the opposite, when people would tell me sob stories about losing to you.” 
You stifle a laugh. “I’d like to think I’ve come a long way since law school. I don’t know if Jay’s ever told you, but I used to be very quiet. I kept to myself a lot. I didn’t have enough confidence to talk in class and panicked every time I was picked for a cold answer.” 
Jake shudders. “I hated that. I was somebody who always came prepared to class but being put on the spot made me feel like I didn’t read the material at all.” 
“Confidence comes with practice,” you tell him. “This job has built my self esteem, especially when I moved to New York for a few years. I didn’t speak English very well, just bits and pieces from music I grew up listening to and because my brother is fluent as well.” 
“Do your parents speak English?”
You shake your head. “Broken English. My brother’s a special case. He listened to a lot of rap music behind our parents’ backs and dedicated so much time into learning how to rap in English that he became fluent. He was obsessed with the show Friends, too. I picked up after him.”
“Your brother seems like a cool guy.”
You smile into your cup. “Yeah, he is. He’s part of the reason why I took this case against Hybe Records. It feels right to fight for the underdog, you know?”
“Jay says the same thing,” Jake tells you. It makes your heart twinge. “He’s been my mentor for the past year and I don’t think I could ever thank him for taking me under his wing. I’m sure you know–he’s the type of guy to be fair and just. I never feel like he’s looking down on me, even when I royally screw up and he has to fix my messes.” 
“He used to be really good at talking me down a ledge in law school,” you laugh. “I used to get so hot headed and frustrated every time I couldn't understand a brief or when I’d read for too long. Jay was always the calmer one between the two of us. He’d tell me to take a breath–”
“–and take it easy,” Jake finishes with you. You smile. 
“Yeah, that. I still think about him saying that to me when times get tough. Jay was a big reason why I even graduated law school in the first place.” 
“I thought you graduated at the top of your class?”
“He and I held equal rank,” you explain. “But mostly, he helped me see the bigger picture, you know? Jay always put my goals into perspective and reminded me why I wanted to become a lawyer in the first place.” 
“Why did you?” 
You set your cup down. “It feels right to help other people in ways that can’t be seen. No one talks about financial burden or responsibility. I had more than enough privilege growing up and it’s unfair that the rest of the world will never experience that kind of safety. If I can provide some kind of comfort for people going through tough times, who am I to deny them that?” 
Jake nods. “I understand. I didn’t grow up in a legacy family myself and it makes me feel better knowing there are good people like you who pursued law. I guess that’s also why I wanted to become an attorney. I want to help people and this is the best way I know how.”
“Does Heeseung still make you guys take on two pro bono cases every year?” 
“Three now,” Jake corrects. “But I don’t mind it that much. I love meeting new people and it makes me happy when we secure a win for them.” 
“This job has brought me out of my comfort zone and has made me feel more confident while doing it. I owe a lot of that to Jay and Heeseung.”
“I’d love to learn from you,” Jake says honestly. “Even if it’s watching you in depositions or preparing case files. I feel like I could learn a thing or two.” 
“I’d love that, Jake.” 
He smiles. “I still can’t believe you knew Jay in law school. What was he like? I’ll bet he still had the same, brooding glare when he’s focused.” 
“I think that was part of his charm,” you say with a fond smile. “Girls loved him. I mean sure, he came from a powerful family, but I think people were digging the whole ‘I-Don’t-Want-To-Talk-To-You’ vibe.”
“So how did you two end up becoming friends?” 
“We sat next to each other in our criminal law class and he was struggling with a few cases,” you explain. “I excelled in criminal law while he excelled in intellectual property, which was a subject I needed help in, and we formed a study partnership in our second year.
“I couldn’t really tell you how we got as close as we did, though. We met in the library a few times a week before realizing being in a quiet environment made us too tired to read. We’d find coffee shops all over town and would end our study sessions with a late night dinner before parting ways.” 
“That does sound like the Jay I know,” Jake laughs. “I don’t think I’ve seen him go home before the sun goes down.”
“Everyone knew how diligent he was with his work. He was always so confident in class when answering questions from our professor. I’m pretty sure everyone was intrigued by him. Jay mostly kept to himself until he and I became friends.” 
“I can totally imagine Jay being a lone wolf.”
You laugh. “He was, kind of. We started hanging out without the premise of studying shortly after. He was probably my closest friend at the time.” 
Jake can see a lingering thought behind your eyes but chooses not to comment, instead checking his watch for the time. 
“Oh, we should probably be getting back soon. I’ll show you around the floor so you can get situated before you work.” 
“That would be great, Jake. Thank you for volunteering to do so.” 
On the walk back to the office, your steps become heavier as the reality of your present sets in. Jay, a former crush and confidant, sits just out of arm’s reach. 
You replay the night in your head when Iseul had cornered the two of you at the local dive bar with the rest of your classmates upon celebrating the last final days of law school before graduation. At that time, everyone had received final offers from recruiters and were placed in law firms across Korea, yourself included. 
It hurt to know that there was competition with Jay to join Lee & Associates, and that he was the chosen candidate. It hurt more to know that Jay couldn’t bring himself to reject you in private. 
Iseul’s smile burns in your memory when you recall the way Jay walked away from you. Her wicked grin has etched itself into your mind, especially when you close your eyes. Time and distance has been kind to you, especially knowing she had moved from firm to firm because of negligence on her part, but you reckon there will always be a part of you that will remain standing in that dive bar feeling like no one would be willing to catch you as you fell. 
That sadness planted deep seeds of distrust within you. That melancholy feeling followed you throughout the summertime, especially when Jay didn’t make the effort to call you during the summer that followed graduation. 
It felt beautiful to be wanted by someone as kind and generous as Jay. It felt just as wonderful to be wanted by someone who you considered to be sought after. The brooding, quiet boy everyone thought to be mysterious had an energetic, talkative personality if you got to know him well enough. It was no wonder that you developed a crush on him towards the end of your second year in law school together. 
When you think about it now, it must’ve been sickening to watch you follow Jay around like a lost puppy. You certainly felt like it from time to time. The two of you only shared one class in your final year together but stuck by each other for study sessions nonetheless. Jay was always more popular out of the two of you, always knowing people who passed him by and waving at other law students. It made you feel like you had to live up to a certain expectation and to branch out in order to be seen with Jay, but he always made it a point to tell you that it didn’t matter how many friends you had. You were always going to be his favorite.
You’d always considered yourself as an awkward, stuttering mess when it came to making friends. Something about Jay quelled your fears about socializing and playing the part of an extrovert with his calm tone and soothing demeanor. On most days, Jay was the person who encouraged you to relax and let your thoughts run wild before making brash decisions. He was the first person to listen to you talk about the burdens your parents placed on your shoulders without insinuating you had to be grateful for the life that you were born into. 
You were. You are. But you aren’t grateful for being neglected and being made to feel like being born was a mistake and a burden. 
Jay has seen you at your worst, whether it be tearing up over a low test score or coming back from winter break after a couple of weeks with your family. You’d argue that you’ve been with him at his worst too, having seen Jay cry a few times throughout your friendship from frustration and stress. There was something about your bond that made you believe he trusted you with his heart and soul, and something that made you believe you could trust him too. 
The weight of your parents’ actions, coupled in with Jay’s selfishness, made you numb for a while. 
His silence and the lack of an apology felt like the ultimate betrayal. You deleted his phone number out of anger when you began your position as a first year associate. You kept your head down and used work to distract yourself from the hollow feeling inside of you, often wondering how Jay was doing at Lee & Associates. It hurt to know you didn’t have a relationship with him where you could tell him about your day and discuss the stress of cases within legal limits. It stung to know he likely didn’t care about you enough to repair the bond after not having called you all summer. Deleting his number, as well as all of the pictures and videos you had of him from your phone, felt like the last straw. Jay was no longer going to be in your life. 
It was why choosing to relocate to New York was so easy for you. Physically leaving Jay behind meant running away from everyone who had ever hurt you to start anew in a city where no one knew your name; this was a fresh opportunity to become the confident, carefree person you always yearned to be, the type of person you knew you could be. Having to navigate a new environment in a language you barely spoke strengthened your self confidence and demonstrated your resilience. If you could overcome this, you could overcome anything. 
Seeing Jay’s name in the original Hybe Records case file startled you, but it wasn’t as jarring as you thought it would be. You imagined what you would say to him if you ever got the chance to see him in person again. Would there be screaming? Would you cry? Would your throat close and feel like you were choking on your words if Jay were to have acknowledged you in any way? 
Would Jay apologize for the night he left you? 
The answer, you later found out, was none of the above. Instead, seeing the name ‘Park Jongseong’ caused a flurry of evocative memories to replay in your mind. After years of dealing with the torment of not feeling good enough to keep your loved ones around, the struggle to find who you were in an industry unkind to timid people like you dissipated with every hour spent working. The more you worked, the more you strategized about winning cases. The more cases you won, the more confident you got. 
Taking on the case against Hybe records was already a no-brainer for you. Your brother is far too passionate about music to ever forgive you for passing up a case you know so much about. Not even Jay could have deterred you from working on it. Even so, you’re eternally grateful that seeing his name doesn’t bring up unpleasant feelings like it did once before. 
Jake brings you out of your thoughts when he opens the front door for you. With a bright smile and your guest badge in your hand, you walk past security without a hitch and take a deep breath before following Jake into the elevator and back to the main floor. 
“I think you’ll really like the associates and paralegals,” Jake says to make conversation on the long trip to the fiftieth floor. “Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki are my favorites, though.”
“Why’s that?”
“Sunoo’s a first year associate and he’s brilliant,” Jake explains. “He’s quick on his feet and he’s quite bubbly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited to be awake at eight in the morning like he is. Jungwon’s our best parasocial as well. He’s incredibly smart and quick-thinking, and he’s thinking of studying to take the entrance exam to enter law school, actually.”
“Oh wow,” you say with a nod. “That’s incredible. His experience as a paralegal will definitely prepare him for that.” 
“I think so too,” Jake agrees. “Riki’s our legal intern for the summer. He’s passionate about his work and really funny. He’s got a natural charm to him, even if his resting face makes him look unapproachable. You’ll like him.” 
“If Heeseung trusts you, then I trust you,” you tell Jake, stepping out of the elevator. 
“Speaking of Sunoo,” Jake mumbles as he expedites his pace to catch up with the brunette. “Sunoo, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Kim Y/N,” Sunoo says with a perpendicular bow. “An honor to meet you, truly. I’m Kim Sunoo” 
You reciprocate. “I appreciate your kindness, Sunoo.” 
“He’ll probably scream about you bowing to him in the break room,” Jake laughs. Sunoo swats his arm. 
“Yah. Maybe if you were half as cool as Y/N, I’d scream about you in the break room.”
Jake pouts before smiling. “I was just telling Y/N how you’re one of my favorite first year associates.”
“He spoke quite highly of you. I heard that you’ll be assisting on the Hybe case with us?”
“If at all possible!” Sunoo exclaims. “I wouldn’t want to overstep.” 
“Nonsense,” you say as you wave him off. “I’m sure Heeseung will talk to you about this sooner or later. I saw your name on the file when he and I spoke earlier. I have a feeling we’ll be working together quite often, Kim Sunoo.”
The aforementioned blushes. “That would be amazing.” 
“We’ll see you later,” Jake says as the two of you wave goodbye. “See what I mean? He’s a ball of sunshine but his bite is definitely worse than his bark. Sunoo’s incredible when it comes to reading clients to absolute filth.”
“He seems sweet,” you say with a pout. “Who else am I meeting again?” 
“Jungwon!” Jake shouts as he knocks on the glass door with the title ‘YANG JUNGWON | PARALEGAL.’ 
The boy looks up and rolls his eyes before registering you standing behind Jake. You hear him clear his throat and fix his posture before standing, beckoning the two of you into his office. 
“Sorry,” Jungwon apologizes with a bow. “I’m sure that, by now, you know how loud Jake can be.” 
Jake merely laughs. “It’s because I like you, Wonie.” 
Jungwon faces you. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jungwon, your resident paralegal. Let me know if you ever need anything and I’d be happy to help!” 
“Jungwon’s the best paralegal Lee & Associates,” Jake tells you. “It’s why he’s the only paralegal that has his own office.” 
“Anyway,” Jungwon says, hiding a blush from Jake’s compliments, “this is my second year with the company and I know it like the back of my hand. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything.”
“That’s really sweet of you to say, Jungwon, thank you.” 
“Anything for a friend of Jay and Heeseung!” 
“We’ll probably come back to you before the day ends,” Jake says to the younger boy. “Is Riki still on his lunch break or is he in the bullpen?”
“He got back a few minutes ago.”
“Sweet,” Jake says. “Let’s go meet the rascal.” 
Riki and Jake have a closer bond than you expected, with the younger boy greeting his elder with a bright smile and a handshake they seem to have perfected. He turns to you and listens as Jake introduces the two of you before he bows politely. 
“Riki’s from Japan but chose to study here in Korea. He and Jungwon want to take the LSAT together,” says Jake.
“あなたは日本語を話していると思います?” you ask him. I assume you speak Japanese? 
Riki’s face beams.
“はい、そうです,” he says. Yes, that’s right. ?どこでそれを話せるようになったのですか” Where did you learn to speak it? 
“私は高校で学びました。 しかし、もっと練習が必要です.” I learned back in high school. I need a more practice, though.
Riki smiles and shakes his head. “Your Japanese is perfect.”
“Ah, you flatter me too much.” “That was so fucking cool,” Jake says. “You speak Korean, English, and Japanese?”
“Add in a little bit of Spanish and we’re golden.” 
“You’re officially the coolest person in this goddamn office.” 
“I hope our paths cross before your work here is done,” Riki says with another bow. “I need to get back to work, unfortunately.” 
“Please, don’t let me keep you!” Riki smiles at you once again before disappearing into another office. “You're right, I really do like him.”
Jake smiles and points across the room. “The break room is just around the corner and is always filled with coffee, tea, and other snacks. The secretaries at the front of the floor make sure it’s stocked to the brim but if anything is missing, just ask. They’re usually happy to replenish.” 
“Good to know.” 
“Do you need anything else from me or are you ready to win this goddamn case?” 
You smile. 
“Let’s win this goddamn case.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
In the two weeks that have passed by, Jay still hasn't mustered up the courage to speak to you. 
Beyond a polite greeting when the two of you cross paths in the morning, Jay can barely smile at you without his heartbeat betraying him. His chest starts to tighten and his tie feels too tight around his neck when you look into his eyes. If you look deep enough, Jay is sure you see all of the regret he’s harbored for so many years. 
Heeseung has had to tell him to get a grip twice already. Jay isn’t slacking at his job as much as he thought he would. But if his mentor and dear friend could notice how awkward he was acting around you, Jay was sure you could sense it too. 
In truth, Jay doesn’t know how to talk to you. He’s never felt pain like this before. He yearns to hear your voice speaking to him and to converse like once before, but he doesn’t know how to. This obstacle causes pain within Jay, and he wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to say more than a sentence to you before your time with him is over. 
Watching you talk freely with his colleagues is foreign to him. Jay can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re much more confident than you were back when he knew you. The same girl who couldn’t go a few sentences without looking at her shoes is holding eye contact and smiling after she speaks. You don’t cower over your body in an attempt to make yourself look like you’re hiding in your shell. Now, you speak with assertion and hold your chin level with the floor as you hold conversation. 
It’s jarring, but a large part of Jay can’t help but feel proud of you. If there’s one thing he knew you wished for back in law school, it was to grow your self esteem. Having parents who belittle your dreams and spoke pathetically about your life choices didn’t leave room for you to understand what liking yourself looked like. The accolades and achievements your parents were bestowed with felt unnatural when you knew it was only a matter of time before they had something negative to say. As attorneys themselves, defending oil companies who don’t care about oil spills in the ocean or bribing employees to keep a quiet mouth about misfortunes never felt like confidence to you. It was cowardice.  
Seeing your parents in magazines with a perfect picture smile never made you want to emulate them in any capacity. They look like dolls, playing the role of hardworking attorneys and devoted parents until they cross the threshold of your home, letting the mask fall to the floor. Their confidence felt brazen. They didn’t deserve to be your role models. 
Yet, here you are. 
Jay doesn’t notice that he’s been staring at you from his office door until Sunghoon knocks his shoulder with his own. 
“Quit staring unless you want to look like a creep.” 
Jay clears his throat. “I wasn’t staring.” 
“Sure,” Sunghoon smirks. “And I don’t handle the majority of our finances.” Jay rolls his eyes. 
“I know what you’re gonna say and you don’t need to say it. I know I need to talk to Y/N.” 
“You’ll regret it if you don’t.” 
“I know, Hoon,” Jay says. He spares one more glance at you before looking away. “But it’s hard to try when I don’t think I deserve any respect or forgiveness.” 
“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but it’s obvious that something did happen by how tense you are when she’s around.”
“Am I really that bad?”
Sunghoon nods. “Y/N can tell. She keeps looking at you when you walk away.”
“Shit,” Jay curses. 
“Whatever happened back then was a long time ago. I obviously don’t know her as well as you do, but she’s been a great asset to the team since she joined. She blends well with everybody and leaves her office door open most of the time. Y/N talks to the associates and interns when she’s taking breaks. She wouldn’t do all of that if she wasn’t willing to talk to you.” 
Deep down, Jay knows his friend is right. But it’s hard to convince himself to talk to you when he pictured the agony on your face before he turned around and left you by yourself with the wolves. It makes his heart lurch from left to right. This feeling only quells when you’re out of sight and when he’s distracted with his work. 
“Try,” Sunghoon says. “I know it’s scary, but the universe put her right back in your life for a season.” 
“I know,” Jay says quietly. “Thanks, Sunghoon.” 
“Anytime.” 
Sunghoon leaves and Jay fixes his posture, pushing his shoulders back twice in a row. Jay still thinks you are the most beautiful and selfless person he’s ever seen. Looking at you makes him feel like a small volcano has ruptured within his heart and the cage that once kept his adoration for you hostage no longer keeps him in the dark. Jay isn’t the insecure young adult he was when he knew you. Even he is more sure of himself. 
Jay thinks you look gorgeous now that you’re smiling more. He remembers all the times he used to take candid photos of you during impromptu moments and the squeals of discomfort you echoed when he would try to take a picture. You used to cover your mouth or shy away from the camera as if you were too embarrassed to be caught. But the way you’re smiling to his colleagues and how animated your conversations are seem to make his heart swell to see how far you’ve come. 
Working alongside you in the time that he has makes Jay observant. He’s been in a room with you plenty of times, whether it be for an internal meeting or sessions where each attorney looks through files of documents. You’re still the diligent and hardworking person you were all those years ago. You still tap your pen quietly over the stack of papers and you still like to eat sweets when you’re in the thick of it. When he sees you like this, Jay begins to recall all of the nights spent in the library studying for an exam or rushing to finish an essay before the submit date. Seeing you harbor the same habits you did in law school makes his heart warm. 
For as awkward as it is, Jay is glad that he gets to see you as successful as you are. He always pictured the two of you as lifelong friends back when he knew you for six months. You were reliable and honest, loyal to your core, and passionate about your work and hobbies. He loved to hear you talk because it demonstrated your confidence when the two of you were together. Jay would reckong that he’d fly a great distance if you asked him to have a conversation with him. 
He loved seeing you switch on for him. One look at you and you were smiling with your eyes closed. Jay adored the way you’d laugh every time he said something mildly embarrassing or the way you would subtly blush whenever he got up early enough to buy you something from the cafe near his apartment. Jay knew he made you flustered from time to time and it brought him great joy to see you look at him like you didn’t know what to do with yourself. 
When he made the executive decision not to call you three months after graduating, Jay wondered if it was cruel of him to revel in the way you reacted to him. His heart felt lighter when you smiled at him while making eye contact. He didn't mind carrying your purse when the two of you hung out or remaining the more sober of the two whenever he drank with you. It felt so natural to look after you like that despite not having many people in his life to do that for. It gave Jay a sense of purpose to do so, going as far as to seek for you when you weren’t with him. 
He always felt selfish for teasing you with the purpose of seeing that shy smile and seeing you look away from him in an attempt to stop laughing. You looked so beautiful when you were bashful, so humble too. Jay prayed for borrowed time because seeing you between classes wasn’t enough. He always thought you were too cool to hang out with him no matter what other people said because you had a million passions and could talk his ear off about everything and nothing at the same time. 
Realistically, Jay knows he can talk to you whenever he wants to. You’ve been mad at him before and have done days without talking to him, but when he took the time to reflect and apologize to you the way you deserved, you always let him back into your hold. Jay knows he has the opportunity to strike up a conversation since you both have been working together for a couple of weeks. He knows you won’t dismiss him. 
But when he sees you laughing with Sunoo and Jungwon in the bullpen from his office, he can’t help but think about just how little he knows about you and how much you don’t know about him. Jay knows it’s his fault since he put the distance between the two of you. Yet here you are, talking to people he’s known for years like you’ve known them all your life. 
Jay can talk to you, but it won’t be today.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
Luck is (or isn’t) on his side when the two of you jump into each other while trying to open the door to the cafe across the street from the law office. 
Regretfully, Jay wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking, as his nose was buried deep in an email he was reading as he motioned to pull the door open. It was then he realized he’d bumped into someone. It took him a few seconds to register he had humped into you. 
“Oh,” you say, startled. 
“Shit,” Jay curses. “I’m sorry. I, uh, wasn’t watching where I was going.”  He pockets his phone. “I should really start doing that.”
“You’re lucky I don’t have coffee in my hands,” you say with a laugh. “It’s fine, Jay.” 
You let him pull the door open for you after he corrects himself. With his head, he gestures for you to enter first and you give a polite smile as a silent thank you. Jay forces himself not to audibly sigh behind you, instead choosing to glance at the ceiling and pray he doesn’t say anything stupid. 
He meets you at the cashier line and notices what you’re wearing. Your forest green dress hugs you in a respectable way, contouring to the ridges of your body. The color looks gorgeous against your skin tone, as does the color of your jewelry. Your coat is dangling from your arms and your hair is styled in a way that makes you look almost glamorous. 
“You look stunning.”
To his horror, you look back and catch him looking at you. 
“Thank you,” he hears you say after a long pause. Jay feels his cheeks reddening. 
“Sorry,” he apologizes. “That was weird, wasn’t it?” 
He’s surprised when you shake your head.
“Not weird at all. I bought this dress and took the tag off prematurely. I wore it today so I could get use out of it since I’d spent so much money on it, so I’m glad someone likes it.” 
That same, shy smile adorns your face. But this time, you aren’t looking away from him. That makes Jay’s heart flutter and for once, he feels like he’s got a shot at making things right with you. 
“You really do look stunning,” Jay tells you as he looks you directly in the eye. He doesn’t dare let his gaze wander. 
Before either of you can say anything, the cashier is waving you towards the counter. He doesn’t think twice about pulling his wallet out and hanging it to the employee behind the counter when you finish ordering, quickly saying his own order before smiling at you. 
“You don’t have to pay for me,” you tell him. 
“I know,” he says with a meek smile. “But let me, yeah?” 
You don’t fight him on it, namely because the employee has already used his card by the time you could even think about pulling your own out. Jay ushers you to the side where the waiting area is and puts his hands deep in his pockets. 
The two of you are quiet for a while. It’s semi busy and the sound of chatter and steaming milk reverberates around the room. Jay looks at you through the corner of his eyes and sees you looking at your watch for the time. If he's to say anything, he needs to say it now. 
“It’s good to see you again,” is what Jay settles with. You turn to look at him. “I didn’t realize you were the borrowed partner. It’s good to see that you achieved your dreams.” 
You don’t know how to respond. You choose to respond honestly. 
“It makes me happy knowing that we both made it,” you tell him. “Heeseung told me he promoted you to senior partner a few months ago. That’s incredible.”
“Not as incredible as being the youngest person to be named senior partner at Tang-Young.” Jay smiles at you. “That’s incredible.” 
“It feels that way,” you tell him earnestly. “I used to think days like these were far-fetched, like I’d never be named senior partner or have my foot in the door. It feels crazy to feel put together for once.” 
“I know the feeling,” Jay agrees. “I have my own place and haven’t had any help from my parents since I graduated law school. I’ve been on my own for a while now.” 
The barista calls out your orders. Jay lets you pick up your beverage before he takes his. 
“Do you ever think about when you were a first year associate? I think about sitting in the bullpen all the time. Sometimes it feels wrong to have my own office.” Jay opens the door for you and lets you walk outside first before he follows. 
“I picture myself out there when I first joined the firm,” Jay confesses. “I was so young and naive…I didn’t have a clear picture of what I wanted to do with my career yet.” 
“It’s insane how much time has passed,” you comment, looking both ways before crossing the street. Jay doesn’t think you say it as you do on purpose, but emotions tug on his heart strings. “I feel like I was just a first year associate only a few days ago.”
Jay swallows harshly. “A lot has changed. Some for the better…some for the worst.” 
You finally look at him when the two of you reach the other side of the road. He doesn’t like talking in tongues or minding your language when he speaks to you because he wants to apologize. Jay has spent the last few weeks dreaming about what he’d say to you or what he’d do to make up for his shortcoming years prior but he doesn’t know how to start. He doesn’t know what he should do first or if you’d consider hearing him out. 
Today is an indication that you might be, is the conclusion Jay comes to. 
The cliches of time slowing down is what he feels when you stop to look at him. He feels like you’re staring through his soul, almost as if you’re inspecting him from head to toe. Jay doesn’t know what you’re thinking and he’s too afraid to ask. He can’t tell what’s going on in your head with your emotionless expression, rocking back and forth to keep his balance. 
Did he say the wrong thing? Jay bites his tongue and wishes he could wake up from whatever dream he’s having. This doesn’t even feel real. He can barely hear the sound of taxis and people around him through the thumping of his own heart. Jay can’t see anyone else but you, so he reckons he could open his eyes and still be in his bed. 
But he blinks and you’re still standing in front of him. 
“Things might’ve changed and so do people. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” 
He watches you walk towards the entrance of the building and forces himself to jog until he’s walking next to you. Jay catches himself and tries not to bump into the people walking in the opposite direction as him. When the two of you are back on the fiftieth floor, you bow to the secretaries and greet Heeseung and Jake, who are standing next to one another. 
“Oh good,” Heesueng says, “Y/N, you’re here. I know you have to appear in court in a few hours and I was wondering if you’d be willing to stop by Attorney Ahn’s office.”
“Ahn?” you ask him quizzically. “What for?” 
“We secured an agreement for them to hand over the Hybe’s contracts. They didn’t want to disclose and Ahn tried hard to block this from being filed, but I think Judge Han allowed it to pass. Do you think you could grab the box from his office?” 
“Sure thing,” you tell him with a nod. “I should be leaving in about an hour. No idea when I’ll be back, but I planned to put in some extra hours. Might as well get a head start by looking at those files.” 
“You’re a lifesaver,” Heeseung praises before walking back into his office. 
“I’m kind of offended neither of you invited me to get coffee,” Jake says as he hands Jay a manila folder. 
“Maybe if this file was on my desk yesterday, I would have,” Jay says with the quirk of his mouth. 
Jake shakes his head dramatically. “Do you see what I have to deal with, Y/N? It’s like he wants to punish me.” 
“Punishing you would be making you go to housing court three times a week, but I don’t,” Jay retorts. “Instead, you get to work with the big kids.”
“Atta boy,” Jake says as he elbows Jay’s side. “But seriously, I want an invite next time.”
“We ran into each other this morning but how about you and I go together tomorrow morning, say around eight?” 
“I think you’re my favorite attorney!” Jake exclaims. 
You turn to Jay. “You’re welcome to join us.” 
“Yes,” Jay accepts immediately. “Yeah, uh, I’d love to join.” 
“Great.” You look between them with a pleasant smile. “Well if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to prepare for trial. See you this afternoon?” 
“Count on it,” Jake says with a mock salute. 
You leave the two of them and Jake watches as his mentor forces himself to pry his eyes off of you. In the duration that he’s gotten to see you and Jay work alongside one another, Jake has never seen his mentor at a loss for words before you started to work in the same office. The younger boy looks between the two of you before slipping back into Jay’s, waiting for him to follow suit. 
Jake joined Lee & Associates as a first year associate. His designated spot in the bullpen felt scared to him, like it was the one place in the entire office that didn’t make him feel like a belittled mess. Law school was over and Jake couldn’t help but feel nervous about practicing law in the real world where the consequences would be more fatal than a bad test score. 
Jay was in need of an associate at the time and there didn’t seem to be anybody who could step up to the plate and deal with Jay’s on-and-off personality, along with the fast pace he kept when working. Before getting to know him, Jay was someone unreadable to Jake. He felt untouchable even though his desk was right in front of the bullpen with the glass doors separating the two of them, mimicking something as dramatic as The Great Wall. 
Yet he finds himself seeing Jay like a brother after the time spent together. Jake knows his mentor is anything but a stone cold, hardened attorney people make him out to be. Jay prefers to keep his emotions closer to himself rather than on his sleeve for people to notice at first glance. He loves loyalty and honesty, and will go to great lengths to award people who stand beside him through tough times. 
It’s why Jake can see the conflict in Jay’s eyes when he sees him looking at you. Jay’s stare is far away, almost as if he’s looking at the spot you stood in to yearn for what he once had. It takes him a moment or two to collect himself and continue with his day. 
Jay clears his throat when he realizes he’s been quiet. 
“Do you have the briefing for the damage collection case?” 
Jake stares at his friend. “I’ll give it to you if you tell me what’s going on between you and Y/N.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Jay sputters in an attempt to seem calm. His heart is beating twice as fast. Jake merely shakes his head. 
“Nah, man. You look at Y/N like you’re seconds away from telling her you’re in love with her.”
“I am not in love with her,” Jay defends immediately. He sees Jake raise his eyebrow and disconnects eye contact. “We used to know each other in law school and now we aren’t as close anymore.”
“See, that’s the thing. I know that. Everyone else knows that too. But there’s something neither you nor Y/N are acknowledging and there’s tension in the air whenever you two are in the same room.”
“There’s no tension.” 
Jake deadpans. “There’s so much tension. Even Riki can sense it.” 
“Don’t bring interns into this.” 
“I’m not bringing anyone into anything,” Jake replies. “It’s you and your weird mojo that needs to be fixed.”
“My mojo?”
“You’ve been off kilter for the past month,” says Jake. “I’m your right hand, you know? I’m with you for ninety percent of the week. I can tell when something’s bothering you.” 
Jay sighs. “It’s complicated, Jake. I…did some things in the past that I wasn’t proud of and I can’t bring myself to talk to Y/N, especially knowing how it all went down.”
“You don’t have to be so cryptic about it,” Jake says sarcastically. 
Take a seat,” Jay instructs. “You’ll want to sit down.” 
Recounting the story to Jake makes Jay feel like he’s telling a juvenile story about two lovestruck teenagers who were too immature to know any better. He feels the guilt rising to the surface all over again, as if he were shaming his younger self for acting so selfishly. 
Truthfully, Jay knew you didn’t deserve to be treated the way he treated you. He viewed you as the epitome of sunshine even if you didn’t believe him on most days. Your quiet demeanor hid a blooming flower. You deserved more than a coward who couldn’t own up to his feelings. 
They stay in Jay’s office, foregoing the workday to discuss what happened the night he left you and what transpired in the summer that followed. Jay tells Jake that he and his parents hopped on a flight abroad a few days after graduation. He tells him how you were always at the forefront of his mind and how that sad look in your eye imprinted in his mind every time he closed his eyes. 
“Shit,” Jake says, leaning back to clutch against Jay’s chair. 
“Indeed.” Jay averts his attention to the city below his office from his window. “I don’t know how to act around her. She walks around like nothing happened between us but when I look at her, all I can picture is that look on her face when I walked away.”
“Have you ever considered that Y/N has moved on?”
Jay shakes his head. “Heeseung said the same thing but this isn’t something you get over, Jake.”
“You said it yourself, though. Y/N is a resilient person. You just told me what you admired about her most was that she could see the bigger picture and react accordingly.”
“I used to think she never had the guts to stand up for herself when people were meant to her,” Jay confesses. “I’d get so frustrated and we’d get into arguments because I’d tell her she doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. But Y/N would always tell me that some battles aren’t worth fighting. I never understood it then.” 
“And now?” 
Jay sighs. “Seeing her here, making friends with all of the associates and walking into Heeseung’s office like she owns the place, makes me realize she always knew what she was talking about. I mentioned she didn't have a great relationship with her parents, right? Well, I think part of me always forgot that since I had a great relationship with mine. I was more vocal than she was. I didn’t have a problem telling people off if they deserved it. 
“But she was quieter. Maybe it was by nature or maybe it was because she didn’t like talking unless she had a reason to. I don’t know. But when I look at her now, I don’t see that angry, frustrated person anymore. I can’t begin to describe it. It’s like she broke out of her shell and became a completely different person. More confident, I’d say.”
Jake nods. “You know, she told me and Sunoo that she has a tattoo of a butterfly on her hip.” 
“A butterfly?” 
“A butterfly. A monarch, I think. Anyway, the type doesn’t matter. It’s just funny that you think she’s come out of her shell when butterflies start out as caterpillars and have to go through their metamorphosis period before becoming a butterfly.” 
Jay bites his lip in contemplation. Jake continues. 
“Monarch butterflies migrate to warm weather once a year because they can’t survive the cold. They fly in groups, hundreds of thousands at a time and build communities. Y/N did the same thing, if you think about it. She left Korea to find herself in New York and returned when she was ready.” 
“I never thought about it like that,” Jay says. “I knew she was working from New York but I always thought it was to get away from me.” 
“Maybe in the beginning,” Jake adds. “Maybe Y/N needed to get away from you, her parents, and her life as she knew it to find the person she was always supposed to be.”
“I will never forgive myself for not calling her after we graduated.” 
“You don’t have to, but I think Y/N has.” Jake leans his elbows on Jay’s desk and looks the man in the eye. “Look, I know I haven’t known her for as long as you have, but in the month we’ve worked together, I’ve learned a lot from her. I’ve seen her talk to the opposing counsel in depositions and learned that she can get to the point without saying much. She’s really confident in herself and is almost always willing to help associates when they approach her.
“What I’m trying to say is, you need to let go of the person you once knew and the person you were back then. You and I both know how far you’ve come in your career and I’m sure Heeseung knows how much you’ve changed as a person since you graduated. But you can’t keep living in the past if you want to move forward.”
Jake’s right and Jay knows it. Every day, he wakes up and his first thought is the memory of you averting your eyes from him at the graduation ceremony. He thinks about his wrongdoings more often than he’d like to admit and can’t seem to move past this feeling of inadequacy when it comes to you. Jay contemplates on whether or not he deserves your respect or forgiveness, the unknown being the obstacle that prevented him from apologizing to you in the first place. 
But he needs to let that go. He’s not the person who decides whether or not he deserves forgiveness. You are. 
You are the person who dictates how you feel. Not Jay, not anyone else. For the past month, Jay has been overthinking about how to talk to you if it’s not related to the litigation. He can talk to you when it’s in conjunction about the Hyb case, but he can’t talk to you about anything else.
Jay needs to start trusting you and your judgment in a way he couldn’t before. But unlike now, Jay wasn’t in your crossfires all those years ago. The version of him during law school never gave you a reason to overcome the loss of a friendship. In order to understand you better, he needs to stop thinking about you the way you were back then. For right now, you’re a stranger he knows everything about. 
“You’re right,” Jay nods. “I’ve been so caught up in dealing with this shock that I forgot Y/N’s had to deal with it longer. It makes sense that she isn’t as shaken up as I am.”
“She’s smart and way more perceptive than you give her credit for. I think Riki’s about to ask Y/N to adopt him because she keeps talking to him in Japanese.” Jake smiles. “Speaking of which.” 
Jay quirks his eyebrow. “Speaking of what?” 
“You so clearly still have feelings for Y/N.” Jay opens his mouth and immediately closes it. 
“Lying to you would be useless, wouldn’t it?” 
“I’m also more perceptive than you think. That, and you talk about her like she saved your cat from a tree, or something.”
“I can’t help it,” Jay sighs as he rubs his face. “Being around Y/N makes me feel the way I did all those years ago. I don’t think I ever got over her. She had this ability to keep people in her grasp, you know? Once you peeled back her layers and looked past her shy personality, there she was. Now, it’s like watching everyone else meet the Y/N i knew she always was, just more openly. It’s weird to see her talking to everyone but in a good way, you know? She’s not apologizing for who she is anymore.”
“Like I said,” Jake says, “Y/N’s a butterfly.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
Later in the afternoon, Jay stops responding to emails when he feels his eyes getting tired from looking at his laptop. The conversation he had with Jake weighs on his mind with every passing hour and his leg bounces with anticipation for your arrival back to the office. 
Throughout the entire day, he’s been reminding himself that he has also grown and matured since the last time you saw him. He’s no longer somebody who hates conflict and speaking his mind. His job has taught him the value of saying what you mean and sticking to an argument until the very end. Jay’s tendency to falter in himself has diminished over the years, especially since working at a legacy company such as Lee & Associates. 
His success as an attorney plays a factor in his confidence, too. Seeing his father in the courtroom inspired him as a child to pursue a career in law so that he may one day fight on behalf of people who don’t have a voice themselves. Never in his wildest dreams did Jay ever think he alone could make a big difference in the lives of others but he sits behind his desk with a promotion just shy of having his own surname on the door in the main office. 
Jay’s job means everything to him. It means working hard after spending countless days and nights stressing over cases and essays in law school. It means working with his colleagues to bring out the best in people and take down companies who value profit over people. It means making a difference in the lives of those who aren’t as fortunate as him. If Lee & Associates wasn’t as philanthropic and as morally-good as Jay would’ve hoped, he doesn’t know if he would’ve said yes to their offer when it was offered to him. 
He decides to take a break and head over to the break room when he bumps into Sunghoon, who has a scowl  etched on his face. 
“Hoon,” Jay says, tugging on Sunghoon’s arm to force him to stop walking. “Are you alright?” 
“No,” he mumbles. 
Jay’s eyebrows contort in confusion. “What’s happening? Is there anything I can do? Talk to me.” 
Sunghoon sighs. “It’s nothing you can fix, unfortunately. Remember when Heeseung asked Y/N to get the Hybe contract files from Ahn?”
“What about it?” 
“Y/N met with him in his office and he sent her home with one box.” 
“I don’t understand why that’s a bad thing.” 
Sunghoon points behind Jay, who sees a room filled to the brim with boxes. 
“He sent the rest here.” 
The two men walk over to the office and see you standing next to Heeseung with both hands on your hips. You look just short of enraged. Jay swears he can see steam coming out of your ears. 
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jay says as his eyes scan the boxes piled on top of one another. “How could we possibly get through all of this?” 
“Hybe’s burying us in paperwork so we look unprepared in our next meeting,” you say in disbelief. “I wish I could’ve slapped that smug look off of his face when he gave me only one of the damn boxes.” 
“We might have to fight about who gets to do that.” Heeseung curses under his breath. “We’ve got two weeks before our next hearing to determine the next step in the settlement.” 
“It looks like they’re gonna win,” Sunghoon grains from beside Jay. “They’re not giving up the recoupment clause.” 
“The answer is in here somewhere,” Jay adds. “We just have to find it.” 
“We’ll be up all night.” You look somewhere between defeated and determined, although Jay isn’t sure which is which. 
“Not if we work together,” says Jungwon, who has Sunoo and Riki standing behind him. The five of you look behind you to see them standing in the doorway. “We want to help.” 
“We can’t possibly ask you to do that,” Heeseung says. “I know the expectation is that you stay later than six in the evening, but this is too much to ask of you guys.”
“You aren’t asking,” Sunoo insists as he sits down in front of Heeseung. “Jay and Jake already have me working on a few of the case files. It makes sense to have another set of eyes that knows this case well.” 
“I want the practice as well,” Riki agrees, taking a seat next to Sunoo. “Jungwon and Sunoo have been teaching me how to read these types of documents and pull relevant information out of them. I’d really appreciate the experience.” 
“You’re sure about this?” Jay asks. 
“We’re positive,” Sunoo confirms. 
“Well, you guys can go home at any point,” Heeseung says. “This goes for everyone in the room. God only knows how much bullshit we’ll have to dig through.”
The sun starts to wane over the blue sky when Jay decides he needs a change of scenery. He’s been sitting in the same chair for a few hours at this point and desperately craves the sweet melodies of soft jazz from his vinyl collection. He excuses himself and lets everyone know he’ll be in his office if anybody needs anything. 
You watch him stand up from where you’re seated and as he walks out of the room. You must admit, Jay still looks criminally handsome. That tendency to cower into yourself whenever he looks at you is still present today, especially when he makes room for you to speak during depositions and internal meetings. 
For a while, you were hellbent on making an enemy out of Jay for what he did to you. The person you were before leaving Seoul was somebody who would likely paint Jay as a target and a villain for life. The friends you made in New York would entertain you in conversations about boys who have a tendency to break hearts and you always had a story to share. 
Even so, time has been kind to you. The years spent focusing on your career and your loved ones has molded you into the kind of person who can see people for who they are, not what they’ve done and have atoned for. Jay has worked all his life to prove himself worthy of being somebody who can take care of himself and stand on his own two feet. In a way, you’ve done the same thing. 
Half an hour goes by before you decide you need to stretch your legs. You make the bold decision to take your work with you and pay no mind to Heeseung, who winks at you on the way out. 
Approaching Jay feels like a mix between normal and anxiety inducing. Seeing him hunched over his desk with a scowl on his face as he concentrates is nostalgic to you, and it makes you remember all the times you’d search for him after your classes ended just to find him in the library with a gargantuan book beneath his focus. His hair still falls as perfectly as you remember it and he still twirls his pen in his fingers like he used to. 
It brings a set of uneasiness to your stomach. You’ve spent years trying to forget Jay before coming to the conclusion that you could never forget someone who once meant so much to you. All of the hatred you harbored for the man you held deep feelings for dissipated when you remembered that he too was growing and trying to find out who he was aside from all he once knew. 
Gathering the courage to knock on his door, you force yourself to do it before you convince yourself to back out. 
Jay looks up at you like you’re the last person he expected to see. It makes your stomach drop. 
“Sorry,” you mutter when he doesn’t motion for you to enter. “I’ll go.” 
“No!” Jay says immediately. He clears his throat and puts his pen down, waving you into his office. “Come in, please.” You walk inside and close the door behind you, the sound of soft jazz is reminiscent of the times you used to study with him in his apartment. 
“I needed a break from sitting in the same spot,” you tell him, standing before his desk and looking at the decor around the room. “I see you still love collecting vinyls.”
“My collection has definitely grown,” he laughs. You feel his eyes watching you explore his office before you find your way to sit in the chair in front of him. 
When the air settles around you, a sense of nervousness washes over your body. Suddenly, you can feel your entire weight on the chair you’re on top of. You can hear the clock that resides from just outside of his office and your mouth becomes too dry to handle. 
You’re not sure why you’ve come to see Jay. You don’t know what you’d say to him. All of those nights you imagined a great big showdown where Jay would fall to his knees and apologize to you, just for you to refute his attempts, don’t matter anymore. You look back at yourself and think of it as silly even though that’s what you needed at a time. But part of growing up and learning about who you are is realizing your capabilities and strengths. Being able to reconcile with the past that hurt you without feeling pure anger towards the cause was arguably the hardest thing you’ve done. 
You two are grown versions of your unsure, unconfident selves. The wall you spent your teenage years building has fallen down with time, knowledge, and grace. Two beings achieving a high clarity of peace is what’s left in this room. 
It isn’t that you forgive and forget. Rather, taking the time to heal and forgive Jay for embarrassing you has made you realize there are worse things than a memory filled with people you aren’t in contact with anymore. Nobody in your life knew about what had happened because you hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with anyone, and no one did the same with you. The shame and burden you carried and blamed on everyone else was misdirected. It was your own insecure nature and unconfident persona that prevented you from healing. 
Separating oneself from the pair of people who stripped away your confidence was the lowest you ever felt. The violent words echoing through your ears after a particularly bad test in high school broke your heart for the last time. You would no longer hold any room in your heart for another chance. The pieces of you that shattered onto the floor were swept away, never to be seen again. 
You kept your head down for the years of the time you lived with them. There was no use to talk back and fight to be seen by them, even if it was to glare at you for misbehaving. It came to a point where even unloving attention from your parents was enough, settling with the notion that you wouldn’t get what you asked for as you wanted it. 
But having realized sweet ignorance was bliss made you sick to your stomach. It made you ashamed to know you had spent so long wishing the people who brought you unto this Earth would look at you. The realization that changing everything about yourself would do nothing but damage in the end, taught you more than you could ever sum into words. It didn't matter if you were loud or quiet. They would never look at you the way they looked at your older brother. 
It was hard to come to terms with it. Everyday was a battle against immense frustration and turmoil as you tried to navigate your way as a young adult without the opinions of your parents shoved down your throat. They’d already expected the best out of you, so perhaps being interested in law was the only thing you’ve ever done that made your parents feel as though you were worth celebrating. 
Separating yourself post-high school and college was easier than ever before, especially when they hadn’t shown up to your law school graduation. 
That final nail in the coffin is what solidifies what remained of the relationship. You wouldn’t see them save for holiday parties to save face, especially when your colleagues and mentors were good friends of theirs. The posed smiles and awkward conversations were part of your way to make connections and play the game before you ended up crying on your bathroom floor. Playing the part of an obedient daughter only to turn into a stranger to your parents was a role you were likely born to play.
“I was wondering if I could look through the paperwork with you.” 
Jay’s eyes widen. “With me?” 
“Only if you want to! I mean, it was always nice to work with you in the library all those years ago. I thought it might be a nice change of pace.” 
Jay looks at you through his lashes and can’t believe the grace he’s been given to have you approach him before he got the chance to. The unexpected load of files put a dent in his plans. It seems, however, that somebody is looking out for him, 
“I…I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Jay says. It’s as if the filter on his mouth has disappeared because he can’t stop talking about what he’s thinking about. “I didn’t know you were the person who was going to help us out on this case and seeing you for the first time in years made me think about when we were kids. I probably don’t have the right to say this, so forgive me, but I really missed you.” 
That shy smile he always knew you to have adorned your lips. 
“I missed you too,” you tell him. “There are a lot of things I’ve done that I wish I could have shared with you. Although I admit I had a few weeks to prepare seeing you before I officially said yes to helping with this case.” 
“I used to think about what would happen if I ever saw you in court,” Jay confesses. “I’d like to believe I’d say hi, or something.” 
“I probably would’ve done the same thing. Do you still play guitar?” 
“Every chance I get,” Jay smiles. “I’ve added a few electric and acoustics editions to my collection. I have an entire music room back at home.” 
“I always remembered you being so musically gifted. If you didn’t become a lawyer, you probably would’ve been a successful musician.” 
“You always flattered me too much.” 
“Why stop now?
Jay smiles at you. “Do you still want cats?” 
“I have a cat called Miso. I’ve had her for a few months. She’s still such a small baby. Is it bad that I’m considering getting another one?” 
“Not at all,” Jay agrees. “But three might make you a cat lady.” 
You pretend to weigh your options. “I’ll think about it.” 
“I can’t believe you lived in New York for a few years. I remember you loving the big city.” 
“I think I’ve changed a bit,” you tell him. “I love the hustle and bustle, but living in Manhattan made me realize I miss living away from the noise. I like traveling into town and having the option to leave it, you know?”
“Definitely,” Jay nods. “My place is in a high rise so I don’t hear construction noises or birds chirping when I want it to be quiet. I got the chance to move in a few years after I started my job here.” 
“I live just on the outskirts of Seoul. It’s a good sized neighborhood in a family town. I like that it’s so quiet. I usually hear children who live in the houses play on the streets on weekend mornings.” 
“That sounds like quite a peaceful life.” 
You smile at him like you know something he doesn’t.
“Yeah, it really is.” 
“Do you ever think about how long ago law school was?” you ask. “Sometimes I pinch myself when I’m given big responsibilities. I pinched myself over and over again when I was named senior partner and nearly gave myself a bruise.” 
“I see the associates in the bullpen everyday and think about how that was me ages ago,” Jay responds. By now, he’s turned his attention from the document to you. “I used to be an insecure prick who pretended to have everything under control. I was so desperate to prove myself. I’m sure you know how that feels. I don’t think I got a wink of sleep in the first four years of my career.” 
“You and I both. I think my life got more stressful when I started my career. Law school did not prepare me mentally for what it was gonna be like. 
“But it’s rewarding, right? I feel like I’m doing something good with my life. And you know Heeseung, you know he wouldn't sign off on clients who are morally corrupt.” 
“It feels incredible, honestly. Being able to help people makes me feel like I’ve served a good purpose. I used to think about texting you all the dumb mistakes people made when I was a first year. It’s hilarious to know how many professionals can’t remain professional.” 
Jay’s smile weakens as his guilt creeps back into his mind. 
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly yet firmly.
You look at him. “I know. Let’s focus on the case, yeah?”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
Arriving at the office as the sun is peeking from the horizon is not a new phenomenon for you. Despite the crust that formed around your eye last night, indicating a good rest, you feel somewhat sluggish as you wait for Jake to finish ordering his coffee. 
“Jay woke up late again,” he snickers as he pockets his phone. “He probably won’t be at the office until eight.” 
“It’s fine,” you tell him. “We all need beauty sleep after yesterday.” 
“Ahn can kiss my ass. I felt like I was knee deep in paperwork. My eyes were gonna fall out of their sockets.” 
“You and me both,” you sigh, retrieving your beverage and pastry. The warmth lifts your mood. “I’ve seen my fair share of paperwork and dirty moves, but they never cease to surprise me.” 
“The audacity of him to give you one box to leave with, too,” Jake says with venom in his tone. “I’ll punch him for you.”
“How about you hold him down while I do the punching?”
“I like your style.” 
The office itself is still relatively quiet, save for the few first year associates milling around the bullpen and the break room. The coffee and espresso machine have seen better days, and you make a mental note to tell Heeseung to invest in new ones. 
Jake raises his hand in a mock salute as you walk towards your office. The pretty skyline will always remain a marvel to you. To live a life of privilege and to neglect the beauty around you would be a disservice to all that has raised you and all what will be awarded to you. The streets below you begin to fill with people commuting to work. It feels much like New York, where the city never sleeps and the people never lose their dreams. 
Working with Jay in his office felt normal. Sitting in front of him and getting to know his life as he built it wasn’t as hurtful as you once thought it would be. With each quip, it felt as if the two of you fell into old habits like there was never a time where the two of you spent any time apart. 
You could tell Jay had more to say than he led on. But hearing a full confession or an apology in the office didn’t feel right. It’s why you shut him down. Hearing the sincerity in his voice when he came to apologize, but having a short conversation between looking through piles upon piles of documents, felt too colloquial. You’re owed the decency of no distractions, at least, even if you’ve done the work to grow and heal. 
There was once a time you swore you’d never give Jay a second chance and that actions, at face value, mean more than any rectification. Back when you were blindsided by hurt and emotion, the realization that the person you cared about the most leaving you felt like a punch to the gut. If Jay had the audacity to leave you as you were, what good were you to anyone else? 
The answer isn’t simple. It wasn’t until you realized running away from Korea and relocation to New York didn’t make you as happy as you thought it did. 
You were lying to yourself when you’d smile and tell your friends that it was the best decision you ever made. You had fooled yourself into believing it as you said it, sipping on whatever alcoholic beverage was at hand at the time. But coming home to an empty loft made those unsavory thoughts ruminate in your mind until you fell asleep. Even so, you dreamt about what your life would be like if Jay had chosen to stay. 
Years of running resulted in a sudden crash. It was like your life wasn’t as perfect as you made it out to be. You loved the part of you that made a life in New York and you loved the people and the work that was established, but a larger part of you missed your life in Seoul. You missed your friends, your old haunts, and the places you swore you’d never go but found yourself visiting when you came back home. You missed your family too, or whatever was left of it. In the years you spent overseas, you learned to come to terms with the notion that who you are is not a product of people who do not know you. Rather, who you are is an accumulation of your experiences and passions, and nothing else. 
That realization made it easier to forgive Jay. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d ever see him again and the thought of what you would say if you came face-to-face with him, or what apologies you would’ve wanted to hear from him, didn’t matter. It became something you tossed at the bottom of your priority list because relying on the actions of other people became a dangerous habit of yours. You’d look at yourself in the mirror and slowly begin to like what you saw looking back at you.  
To let go of the past feels like freedom. You could dwell on everyone who wronged you and remain spiteful at all of the times you were left to feel like an embarrassment and a burden, but none of that could have ever helped you arrive in the present day as tranquil as you are. Every happenstance, good and bad, happened for a reason, and it isn’t up to you to figure out why. 
You’re brought out of your thoughts when Jungwon knocks on your door. 
“Y/N?” he asks timidly. 
“What’s up?” 
“Do you have the time to go over these case files with me?” Jungwon asks. “I know you have a lunch meeting you need to prepare for, but none of the other attorneys are in the office right now and Heeseung needs these as soon as possible.” 
You smile at him. “I’ll make time.” 
The two of you sit in relative silence for the next twenty minutes, hearing the sounds of paper turning and pens scribbling in the margins. The city’s waking up and people are filing into the office one by one as the two of you remain in the vacated copy room just around the main office. Jungwon suggested relocating to the small corner for concentration purposes and you start to understand why he’s everybody’s favorite paralegal. 
“This stuff is insane,” Jungwon comments. You look up at him to see a scowl etched on his face. “How can people willingly take advantage of people trying to pursue their dreams?” 
“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “It kills me to see greedy corporations treat people like they don’t matter.” 
“It’s unfair,” Jungwon says. “If I had my way, I’d stick it to these music executives. Screw Ahn for burying us in paperwork.”
“Making the musician pay back a certain fee feels almost impossible, doesn’t it?” you ask Jungwon rhetorically. “It almost feels like the label is stealing talent and profiting off of it wherever and whenever they can.” 
“These poor people are trying to make a living doing what they love. None of this is fair. It’s stupid for labels to require a certain number of albums to be made under contract.” 
“Even more stupid when labels cut them loose because they can’t pay back the recoupment quickly.” 
“If I had time in the courtroom with Attorney Ahn, I think I’d rip him a new one.” 
You laugh. “How long have you been a paralegal, Jungwon?”
“A couple of years,” he tells you. “I’m thinking about other career options in the meantime, but I love my job and I love helping the associates when they ask me.”
“Why would you think of different career paths if this is what you love to do?”
He sighs. “I’m not good at testing. I mean, I took the bar and failed. It feels like it’s too late for me, you know?”
“Well, you could always take it again.”
He shakes his head. “It’s no use. I’m not good at practice tests but I could tell you about any case. I’ve been at this job long enough to discuss concepts and have them make sense, but it’s testing that gets me. I just get so anxious, you know? I second guess myself all the time and I hate that I do that.” 
“Testing used to be my greatest enemy.”
“What changed?” 
“Jay, honestly. He was always the better student when it came to that kind of stuff. I had really bad testing anxiety but he managed to help me study enough to the point where I knew I would ace them.”
“Wow, I didn’t realize you guys used to be so close.” 
“I’d say he was my closest friend in law school. It’s nice to see him again after all these years.” 
Jungwon doesn’t press further, instead returning his attention to the documents below him.
“Ending the recoupment expectation means the artist can keep the profit from the moment it’s been released, right?” 
“They’ll have to split their earnings with people who worked on the project based on copyright laws, but yes, essentially.” 
Jungwon sits with his thoughts and stares at the documents before him. His hands sift through the folders as his eyes dart from page to page. 
“This is what I love about my job,” he begins. “I love helping people because it’s what I feel like I was meant to do. I love solving problems and I love fixing them.” 
“You owe it to yourself to try, you know,” you encourage. “Going to law school isn’t easy, but not many people can say they have your experience. You’ve got a few years of working with associates and partners under your belt. There’s no reason to be afraid of taking the LSAT.”
“I guess I’m just nervous that I won’t be good enough,” Jungwon confesses. “Every day, I’m surrounded by the smartest people I know who all graduated from the best law school in Korea. How could I ever compete with that?”
His doubt speaks to your younger self, the one who cowered in fear when your parents neglected to praise you for a job well done or turned a blind eye when you asked for advice. Jungwon’s worries speak to the part of you that wished for external validation when it came to your capabilities and strengths, because doing it yourself could only go so far. 
His words remind you of moments when you felt small, like the world was too big and you’d never have enough time to discover all the wonders it could bring. You were meek back then, thriving off of whatever little validation they gave you just to have them knock it down. You don’t know why you spent so many years yearning for their approval, but never getting it felt too familiar. 
Your acceptance at the most prestigious law school in Korea was met with apprehension. You recall the sinking feeling in your stomach the moment the idea about your worth was proposed; having your parents question your capabilities or how you’d fit in with your peers had you second guessing your career path, leaving you wondering if following your passion was worth the struggle and pain of convincing them to let you pursue it. 
They agreed to let you go under the condition that they pay for the first year before you’d need to pay for the remaining two. It felt unfair and it still feels unfair. But what’s done is done and you managed to gain the courage to chase after that dream of yours that always seemed just too far out of reach, and it has paid off.
Now, you look at Jungwon as if he were a ghost of your former self. 
“You say you’re worried about committing to a career path, but it seems like you’ve got your heart set on becoming a lawyer,” you tell him. “Don’t you think you should explore that?” 
Jungwon smiles at you.
“I think I will.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
Jay finds you in the break room laughing with Jungwon when he’s able to pull himself away from meetings. You look gorgeous when you laugh as freely as you are, like you aren’t shy about showing people what you look like when you smile. It warms his heart to hear that fluttering laugh of yours. 
“You’re serious about helping me study for the LSAT?” he hears Jungwon ask you. 
“Dead serious. It’ll take some time but the test comes around a few times a year. Take it easy, okay? There’s no need to rush.” 
The younger boy sees Jay approach and nods his head. “I should get going. See you later, Y/N!” 
“Jungwon’s taking the LSAT?” Jay asks when the former disappears. 
“I’m trying to convince him. He told me earlier about why he’s hesitant to go to law school but I think Jungwon can do it if he really tries.” 
“I think so too,” Jay agrees. “He’s the only person in this office who knows what’s going on. Might as well promote him to first year associate. We’ll definitely miss him around the office, though.” 
“All the more reason to hire him when he graduates.” 
Jay smiles. This kind of generosity is something he always thought of you. 
“Anyway, I have a meeting in thirty minutes and I’m considering canceling if not for the free lunch.”
“Hot young finance wannabe taking you out to an expensive steakhouse?” he jokes. 
“Try a sixty-year old former housewife afraid that her assets are in shambles when they haven’t been touched in years,” you laugh. “The restaurant is a dim sum place by my apartment and I will never say no to dim sum.” 
“Bummer,” Jay says, biting back a smile. “I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee before the afternoon rush.” 
“Can we rain check?” you ask eagerly. “I’d love to get coffee with you again.” 
“I would love that. Are you going to be back in the office this afternoon, though? I’ll keep my door open for you.” 
“I’ll be back around three,” you tell him with a shy smile. “I’ll be sure to knock.” 
Jay shakes his head. “You can walk in. I’ll make an exception for you.” 
The atmosphere around the office has changed when you come back and sit with him to work. It’s like the distance and wrongdoings have been erased when it’s just the two of you sitting in front of one another, almost as if time has transported the both of you back to law school. 
You find that you’re able to get work done much faster without the impending doom of awkwardness lingering around the two of you. Jay’s tendency to skirt around you created a strange atmosphere during the first few weeks of you working in his domain, but sitting with him now makes you feel like things are going to be okay. 
For Jay, it feels the same. His guilt has subsided, not because he feels absolved, but because he feels like he’s working towards a better version of himself with you back in his life. Jay has always sworn to rectify his mistakes if he was given the chance to and the universe granting him one last chance by allowing you back in his life feels like a second chance. He doesn't want to mess it up and make you feel the way you did once upon a time. 
It isn’t until the sun goes down and you yawn that he registers just how late the two of you have been working. Conversations flow easily and it feels like time has moved too fast. 
“Let’s get noodles before going home? For old time’s sake,” Jay asks you. 
“It’s like you read my mind.” 
He knows of a place not too far from away, a small hole-in-the-wall joint that boasts an array of soups that immediately smell like comfort in a bowl. The waitress leaves the two of you alone after putting your meal in front of you, and you waste no time before digging in.
“Woah, slow down before you choke on the soup,” Jay teases. 
“Cut me some slack,” you whine. “This is definitely not the first time you’ve watched me inhale my food.”
Jay laughs. “I remember when you couldn’t stop eating the shumai from across my apartment. You must’ve thrown up twice? I think?” 
“That night single handedly made me watch how much I ate in one sitting.” You recoil at the memory. “But I still love shumai. Just not as much.” 
“Or that time you went through a phase where you couldn’t stop drinking fruit-flavored punch and got so nauseous that you almost skipped the last exam before winter break.”
“I made it, though! I think I got a ninety-one on that test? But who cares. Law school was forever ago.” 
Jay’s eyes soften. 
“I really am sorry,” he begins. “I’ve been thinking about when the best time to talk to you is, but everyday there’s something new between the Hybe case and other things that need our attention. So, I’m sorry if right now it seems like it’s coming out of the blue.
“It’s selfish of me to say it when you’re eating, I know. I just want you to know how sorry I am for being a coward and for leaving you standing.” Jay’s eyes falter and he looks back at his bowl of soup before forcing himself to look you in the eye. “I couldn’t tell you what my younger self was thinking back then. Every single day I think about how awful and selfish I was to put my emotions above yours.” 
“Jay–”
“I don’t know if this counts for much, I’d like to think I’ve grown since then. I’ve learned to be empathetic and that I can’t run away from things just because it was too much or because I was scared about how I felt about you.” He swallows harshly. “I really, really liked you back then.” 
You bite your lip. “I really liked you too.” 
“Working with you for the past few months has made me realize how much of a fucking idiot I was to walk away like that. I should’ve told Iseul to shove it down her throat and walk out with you instead of leaving you alone. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry.”
In your years imagining what this moment would look like, it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t in a small noodle stop sitting in an expensive dress. It wasn’t at the end of a long workday where your thoughts are all over the place. It certainly wasn’t with Jay sounding as honest and as sincere as he is now. 
You prepared to leave in astonishment or throw a drink at him for his audacity. You envisioned yourself laughing in his face and walking away with your hair brushed behind your shoulders, only to peek over and see him fall to his knees in despair. You imagined Jay looking disheveled and helpless, catching his insincerity with a smug grin before telling him to leave you alone forever. 
But the man in front of you looks like he’s waited a long time to apologize. He drops his eye contact with you in favor of moving his chopsticks around the bowl, moving the noodles as a way to fill the awkward silence from your lack of response. In truth, your heart is beating three times as fast as it normally does. It doesn’t help that your feelings for Jay never went away. It certainly doesn’t help that his apology feels like one crafted by a mature adult as opposed to throwaway words someone strings together to absolve themselves of guilt. 
Jay’s guilty and he knows it. He’s willing to live with the consequences, but your silence is killing him. 
Instead of speaking, you push your hand to reach for his and pry his fingers off of his chopsticks. Jay’s eyes snap to your hands touching his, afraid that if he moves, you’ll be gone quicker than he can register. 
“You were never one for words,” you begin to say. Jay’s heart sinks to the bottom of his chest. “I remember you having the hardest time carrying a conversation because you were thinking too hard about what to say. I always thought I was the shy one, but getting to know you was a little hard when you said so little. 
“I don’t know what changed, honestly. It was like you had a million and one different things you wanted to talk about. I learned that you trusted few people and I knew I was one of them the second you talked my ear off about how you probably would have pursued a career in music instead of law.” 
Jay’s mouth quirks. “I remember that.” 
“What I’m trying to say is, I know you’re being honest with me now. The fact that you said all of that in a noodle shop tells me more than you know.” 
He chuckles. “It’s a little poetic, isn’t it?” 
“Considering we spent maybe half of our time together eating ramen, I’d say so.” 
He squeezes your hand. “The last thing I want you is for you to feel like I’m forcing you to say something you don’t want to, or even forgive me. I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do something you aren’t ready to do.”
“One thing you should know about me is that I always do as I please.” You squeeze his hand back. “You’ll know how I feel, Jay. Right now, I feel very strongly about you.” 
The two of you look at each other before the doorbell chimes. You two pull your hands apart as if you’re two teenagers caught holding hands. Jay laughs once he sees your mouth forming that same bashful smile he fell for all those years ago before clearing his throat and enjoying the rest of his dinner. 
As for you, the warmth of the broth is almost as warm as your cheeks.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
Nothing is going according to plan. 
The Hybe case has taken all of your effort and resources, as well as your mental sanity. As the date for the next settlement hearing, and likely the final one, draws nearer, you feel the walls closing within you with no way to stop it. 
It’s taken a toll on you. You’re sure everyone in the office can see it. Sunoo creeps quietly into your office with a polite bow every time he delivers what you ask for, ceasing to make small conversation when he can see how little sleep you’ve gotten. Riki and Jungwon are the same, waving to you from outside of your office because you’ve spent a majority of your time there. 
Jay’s noticed it as well. He remembers the moments when you’d hole yourself in your apartment due to exam stress and when things with your family affected you. Back then he would try everything in his power to get you to come out of the cave you created, whether it be staying in his car until you were ready to see him or dropping off meals for you. 
It’s not so different now, except this is occurring in the workplace. He sees the dark circles under your eyes and the way your shoulders slump when you’re working at your desk. Jay sees the way you shake your head to fight to stay awake and how unfocused you’ve become during meetings. 
Everyone in the office is losing their hope about winning this case. Hybe has drained all of the resources every attorney has put into fighting it. Heeseung feels the pressure from the clients, which in turn has everyone else worrying about if this was a case they were going to lose. The hope everybody exhibited from the beginning of the case until now has dimmed. Nobody knows what went wrong or why team morale has changed for the worse.  
It’s late on a Friday night when Jay catches you still in your office. Your coat is still hanging behind your chair and he can see the tissues around your garbage can. His heart lurches when he puts two and two together, and races all over the office until he finds you walking out of the bathroom. 
You look at him with bloodshot eyes and tears at the brim. Jay’s tie feels tight against his collar and his suit jacket suddenly feels too warm on his body. Your nimble fingers tremble beside you as you catch your breath, halfway between embarrassed for being caught crying and fighting the urge to jump into Jay’s arms. He hates seeing you cry and he hates knowing that there’s nothing he can do to make you feel better.  
Jay makes the decision for you. He wastes no time and tugs you closer to his chest.
He doesn’t pay any mind to your tears soaking his dress shirt, opting to put one hand behind your head. He strokes your hair and wraps his other arm around you to hold you securely within him, using what little momentum he has to rock your bodies from side to side. It feels right to have you in his arms like this. Jay has fantasized about the day you’d let him touch you like this, so intimately woven together as if the two of you were always meant to be together. 
Your face feels hot against his chest. Jay feels you rest your cheek on his shoulder and he fights the urge to press a kiss to your head. The office is eerily quiet, with everyone else having left hours earlier. Jay was stuck in a late night meeting before heading back to the office to pick up his belongings for the night. He’s glad he came back. 
“Sorry,” you croak, voice sore from holding your tears at bay. Jay lifts his hand to wipe the tears off of your cheek with this thumb. 
“Don’t be,” he tells you. “God knows how many times I’ve cried in this bathroom.” 
You smile. “You’ve cried in the women’s restroom?” 
Jay pinches your arm. “You know what I mean.” 
The two of you stay like that for another minute and bask in the silence. Half of the lights have turned off due to lack of movement and it feels liminal to be holding one another without the judgment or prying eyes of others. Jay coaxes you to your office and gently holds your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he pulls you down on the couch. You don’t fight him, letting him pull your body down next to his until your feet are tucked underneath you with your head resting on his shoulder. 
Jay doesn’t want to push his luck. He’s sure you can feel his heart beating from where you sit. But your head is within reach and experimentally places his cheek on top of you. When you won’t move away, he closes his eyes for a brief moment and thanks whoever is watching him for the opportunity to be this close to you again. 
“Life is so hard,” you say, grabbing his hand and toying with the rings on his fingers. “I feel like nothing I’m doing is amounting to anything.”
“That’s not true,” Jay says to you. He fights the urge to smile when he sees you pick a ring off of his finger and place it on your own hand. “You’ve done a lot of good, you know that? You wouldn’t be here today if you didn’t.”
You return the ring back to Jay’s hand. “I know. This case is keeping me up at night. I get nightmares about Ahn’s stupid, smug grin after telling us we wasted our time trying to fight Hybe.” 
“You and I both. Sometimes, our efforts feel futile when all we do is stare at paperwork and hold empty promises to our clients.” 
You nod in agreement. “I just want to be at a place where I don’t feel like I’m fucking things up all the time. I spent so long trying to run away from everything but I got tired of doing that before I moved back to Korea. I want to rest.” 
The two of you remain silent for a few peaceful moments. It doesn’t feel awkward and neither of you feel pressed to say anything. The comfort that you feel with Jay is something he’s been praying for. He��d reckon that the person he was when you first joined the office would almost doubt the fact that you're comfortable resting in his arms. To him, this is a sign that you’re starting to trust him again.
“Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?” He tries not to smile when you shake your head. 
“Can you stay here with me?” 
Eventually, he convinces you to go home after a tiring day. Jay calls a taxi for you and waits with you until it arrives. The smile you give him makes him feel like there’s nothing he can’t achieve, and it isn’t until you kiss his cheek that Jay feels as though he might melt into a puddle. 
“Get home safe, okay?” you ask of him. 
“Anything for you.” 
He closes the door behind you and watches the taxi drive away until it’s out of sight. Jay pulls his phone out and begins to hover this thumb over a certain phone number he hasn’t called in a while, arguing  back and forth with himself until he hastily presses the ‘call’ button and puts the phone to his ear. 
One, two. Click.
“Hello?” comes the voice from the other line. 
“Hey,” Jay says. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry to call you out of the blue. I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but I’m calling about Y/N.”
“Is she okay?” 
“Relatively speaking.” Jay takes a deep breath before continuing. “We’re working on this case together. I’m sure she’s told you about it and I think it’s taking a toll on her. You know how she gets. She closes herself off because she doesn't want other people to worry about her or feel like a burden.”
“Sounds like classic Y/N if you ask me.”
Jay laughs. “I found her crying in the office tonight and we talked a little. I just sent her home in a cab. I know I don’t have the right to ask anything of you, but this is Y/N. Can you give her a call and make sure she’s alright?” 
The voice on the other end is silent for a brief moment. Jay holds his breath and he swears he can feel his lungs constrict within him. If anything, he’s prepared to have his heart broken in two and for everything he knows to fall apart around him. 
It doesn’t. 
“I’m in Seoul, actually. Don’t tell anyone, though. I’ll visit Y/N.”
“Thank you,” Jay breathes. 
“Of course. We both know she would have kept to herself until it’s too late.” 
“That we do.” Jay swallows harshly.  “I also just wanted to say…I’m sorry. For everything. I wasn’t the greatest friend, haven’t been the greatest friend, but I want to do everything I can to make things right. I’ve already apologized to Y/N but apologizing to you feels right.”
He hears a small chuckle from the other side. “You’re a good person, Jay, even if you make bad decisions every once in a while. The fact that you’re calling me after everything you’ve done tells me how much you’ve changed.” 
“I…thank you. I don’t know what I’m looking for. But apologizing feels right.” 
“It’s a good start. Thanks for calling, man.” 
“Take care.” 
The line ends and Jay walks back into the office with a happy heart.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
A knock comes at your apartment door and your heart starts to spike. It’s nine in the evening and you’re sitting on your couch in pajamas with an empty bag of chips on the coffee table. Your ears perk up at the sound and you clutch your phone in your hands until you see a notification come though. 
Dearest Brother (Korean cell): Open up!
You lift the blanket off of you with record speed with Miso tailing behind you and open the front door without a second thought. 
“Namjoon,” you breathe. 
“In the flesh,” he says with that same boyish smile he gives you when he sees you after coming home from overseas. “Are you gonna let me in or are you gonna let me freeze to death?” 
“With that attitude, you can starve too,” you say, angling your body away from the door for him to walk in. Namjoon takes his shoes off and slips his feet into the slippers you always keep for him. Miso nips at his ankles until he bends down to pick her up, cradling your beloved in his arms. “What the hell are you doing in Seoul?” 
“The boys and I got back earlier this morning,” Namjoon tells you. “Promotions are over and we get two weeks to rest before we start preparing for the next tour.” 
“God, I can’t believe you guys are going on tour again,” you say, patting the spot next to you on the couch for Namjoon to sit on. “It feels like you guys just started working on the album.” 
“Seokjin said the same thing,” says Namjoon, who puts his feet on the coffee table before you chide him with a playful slap to the bicep. “The guys and I decided we weren’t gonna see each other until tour rehearsals. God knows we’ve spent too much time together in the past few months.” 
“How are they?” you ask him. “I’ve only seen updates on those fan accounts that update your every move, which is somewhat creepy but every wholesome at the same time.” 
Namjoon laughs. “The guys are fine. Taehyung and Hobi spent most of the promotions shopping and came home with two duffel bags each. Yoongi’s probably gonna sleep for the next two weeks. Jungkook got ripped, and I mean ripped.”
“I saw that, Jesus. He sent me a progress photo and all I could think about was how small he used to be before you guys debuted.”
“Jimin’s just…Jimin. He says he misses you and that the two of you should get together before it gets busy.”
“I would love that.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “I missed you guys a lot. More than I care to admit, probably.” 
“See, I told you all our sibling rivalry would disappear when we got older.”
“Yah. Whatever you say. We’re still enemies at heart.” Miso purrs against Namjoon’s lap. “I think she likes you more than me.”
Namjoon smiles down at Miso. “Jay called me earlier tonight. He says you haven’t been feeling very well.”
“Jay is a tattletale.” 
“Did he lie?” 
You sigh. “No, he didn’t.” 
“What’s on your mind?” 
“So many things that I don’t even know where to begin. There’s the Hybe case, which has made me want to blow my brains out.” 
Namjoon nods. “Ah, the Hybe case. It’s funny what a small label could do in ten years.” 
“Seems as though your underground rapper dreams came true. Now you’re touring the world and forgetting to bring me back expensive gifts from abroad.” Namjoon chooses not to comment. “You know attorney Ahn, right? Well, he sent us dozens upon dozens of legal files for us to sort through before our next hearing. We’ve gone through eighty percent of them but it feels like we’re going nowhere. It feels useless”
“You’re doing more good than you know,” he tells you. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re giving a lot of hope to a lot of young musicians.” 
You sigh. “I hope so. And then there’s the whole thing with Jay…I can’t remember what I last told you. I know I said that my feelings towards him have changed and that I’ve forgiven him, but spending as much time as I have has made me rethink a lot of things.” 
“Like what?”
“Like whether or not it’s stupid of me to give him a second chance or if I should feel ashamed for liking him in the first place.” Namjoon watches you frown. “All those years and my feelings for him never went away.” 
“Well, we can’t control how we feel.” 
“He hurt me, Joon.” 
“I know,” says Namjoon, “but that was years ago. In the months you’ve worked with him, has Jay given you any reason to doubt his sincerity?” 
You think about it. “No, he hasn’t.” 
“Has he apologized for what he did and is he being respectful of you?”
“Yes,” you say without hesitating. 
“There’s your answer. You can’t let the past dictate people. I’m sure there are parts of you that have outgrown your younger self.” 
“You know, I can hear the voices of people I met back in New York telling me not to give Jay the time of day and that I should block his number when we finish working this case.”
“Your New York friends knew the person that was angry at him, though. You stopped talking about Jay two years before you moved.” 
“I know. I don’t know what’s stopping me from going for it.” 
“Have you ever considered that you’re afraid things will turn out the same way it did all those years ago?”
You roll your eyes. “All the time, Joon.”
“Okay, fair point. Have you considered that you’re the one in control of how you react to things?” You purse your lips and Namjoon takes it as a sign to keep talking. “You can think of a million different ways this plays out. Maybe you guys break up after a week. Maybe you get old and live together until you’re ninety. But all of those scenarios are just what-ifs. You’ll never know until you make a decision and stick with it, otherwise your fears hold you back from reaching your true potential.” 
“But what if it fails? I’m scared of becoming the person I was back then.” 
“Well I, for one, know you’re much stronger than that. Working in corporate law makes you tougher, not weaker. But to speak on your concern, you’re the only person who can control how you react to things. If the timing isn’t right and you feel it coming, then you let go.” 
His words sit with you as the soft sounds of the television plays in the back of your mind. For a few months, you’d been worried that you jumped the gun and forgiven Jay in ways the you of the past would never understand. The deep seeded fears of being rejected and left behind creep into the forefront of your mind every so often, leaving you a paralyzed mess. 
But Namjoon’s right. You can only control your reaction to what cards you’re dealt with. Any wrongdoing by the hands of others isn’t your fault nor are they your responsibilities. 
“As for the Hybe case,” Namjoon says as he brings you out of your thoughts, “I think I have a solution.”
“Oh yeah?” 
He nods once. “The guys and I have been talking about this for a while. We’ve known about other musicians suing Hybe longer than you’ve known about this case and we didn’t know how we could help. On one hand, Hybe gave us everything we have now, you know? They gave us the opportunity to become musicians. I don’t know what got lost in translation, but it seems that fewer and fewer artists are able to experience what we did.”
“Where are you going with this?”  
“We’re going to make a statement. With your approval, of course.” Namjoon tells you. “I was going to call Heeseung on Monday to set up a meeting with you and surprise you at the office, but tonight seemed like a better time to drop by.” 
“Wait.” You use the remote to pause the TV. “You guys are going to speak at the hearing?” 
“All seven of us,” he confirms. “It’s not fair that everyone else has to work twice as hard because of Hybe’s standards. We’ve been given this platform and it’s only fair that we use it to help other people.” 
“God, I could cry right now.” Namjoon chuckles at the tears that have formed at the corner of your eyes and picks up a tissue before handing it to you. “You don’t know what this means to me, Joon.” 
“I always told you I’d be here for you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but I thought that meant buying me gifts paying for my takeout,” you joke, swatting his arm, “not saving the biggest case of my career.” 
“I’m really proud of you, Y/N. Not a lot of people are as resilient as you.” He smiles down at you. “Oh, and you should also know about Jay.”
“What about him?” 
“He apologized to me too,” Namjoon says. “I know what people sound like when they want something from me or say things because they know it’s what I want to hear. But Jay didn’t sound like that. He didn’t have to say anything since he was calling about you, but that in itself lets me know how sorry he is.” 
“I don’t know what to say.” 
“You don’t have to know. Besides, it’s a Friday night and you have the entire weekend before you see him. Let’s watch cartoons like old times, yeah?” 
“Yeah, but you better not sleep in the middle of the second episode.” 
Namjoon laughs. “You wound me.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
For the first time in a while, you don’t feel imminent doom as Monday approaches. 
The sky is as sunny as you feel when you walk into the office. Sunoo and Jungwon seem rather pleased that you’re spending more time outside of your office and Heeseung makes several comments about how your mood has shifted from how it was last week. 
“You’re telling me Namjoon stopped by and you didn’t tell me?” Heeseung chides. “I feel like chopped liver.” 
“That’s because you are,” you tease. “The guys are resting for the next two weeks before tour preparations. Namjoon, Jimin, and I are going to get dinner one of these days if you’d like to join.”
“I’m taking you up on this invite, thank you very much. Did you know Joon was gonna be back in town?” 
“I didn’t, actually.” A knock comes from behind you and the man of the hour appears. “Jay called him.” 
“Am I in trouble?” Jay asks. You smile and shake your head. 
“Just the opposite. Thanks for calling my brother. It meant a lot to me.”
“You looked like you needed him and I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he tells you sincerely. 
“It’s great that you’re both here, actually.” You close the door behind your office. “Namjoon and I talked about a lot of things, one of them being the case. He told me how he and the guys have felt helpless in the past few months to see their labelmates suffer through corporate greed. He told me that they’re willing to testify and speak on our behalf against Hybe.” 
“What?” 
You nod. “I think they’re starting to understand how unfair the new recording contracts are and want to make a difference. I know Judge Han’s granddaughters are fans of Bangtan, so I think their presence could sway the decision.”
“You fight dirty,” Heeseung says, bumping his hip with yours. “I love it. Are they ready to go up against Ahn?” 
You shake your head. “They’re gonna schedule a meeting with us sometime in the next week to prepare. It’s going to be a tight fit with their tour preparations and our hearing, but if all goes according to plan, Ahn should be willing to move the hearing date earlier.”
“This is fucking incredible,” Jay swears. “We owe you one.” 
“You owe me nothing,” you tell him. “I love working with you two, honestly. Namjoon however…you might owe him a few.” 
“I’ll pay for dinner under the company card and say it was a client business,” Heeseung says. “It’s a done deal. I’m gonna let the others know, if that’s okay?” 
Heeseung leaves when you give in the greenlight, leaving you and Jay standing alone in your office. 
“I meant what I said earlier,” Jay says. “I owe you one.” 
“Seriously, Jay. You owe me nothing. It comes with the job.” He laughs and shakes his head. 
“I’m bad at this.” 
Jay bites his lip and reaches his hand out for yours, holding a loose grip in case you want to pull back. When you don’t, he takes the opportunity to push his fingers through yours. 
“I’d love to take you out on a date,” he says. “As a thank you. But more so because I really like you and want to take you out like you deserve.” 
You squeeze his hand. “If I said I wanted to stay indoors because this week will likely kick my ass, what would you do?”
Jay pretends to think. “In that case, I think I’ll cook us dinner while you watch with a glass of wine. If I recall correctly, that’s how most of our Friday nights looked like.” 
You bite your lip. “You make a mean steak.” 
“Whatever you want is what you'll get. Although, I have a sneaking suspicion that this was your way of asking me to cook for you.” 
You look at him in faux surprise. “Whatever do you mean, Park Jongseong?” Jay chuckles and takes a step closer towards you.
“Silly girl. I'll cook for us once this case is over, yeah? How does that sound?” 
“Sounds like you’re after my own heart.” 
Jay learns until you feel his lips land on your cheek.
“That I am.” 
He leaves your office without another word and you fight the heat creeping up your neck as you bite your lip. When you turn around, you’re met with Jake and Jungwon’s prying eyes from the bullpen, and watch as they high-five each other whilst giving you an array of thumbs ups and silent applause. 
You struggle to get back to work.
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
In an unsurprising turn of events, Ahn folds when Namjoon takes the stands. When all is said and done, you find yourself at an all too familiar position with Jay in the kitchen and you sitting behind the counter with a glass of wine in your hands. 
He’s grown up, for one. Jay’s back muscles are more defined in his t-shirt as opposed to the dress shirts he wears everyday, giving you something else to look at as he cooks dinner for the both of you. The week wasn’t as bad as you anticipated it to be, but you’re sitting in his penthouse and patting yourself on the back for making the suggestion to stay indoors. 
It’s oddly comforting to feel as relaxed as you are in his space, sans wine. The buzz hit you after he gave you a tour of his place and the Jay of the present is definitely not the Jay you used to know. His tastes are elevated and his collection of instruments has nearly tripled. The artwork adorning his walls speaks for his maturity, as does the furniture in his living room. It reminds you just how much the two of you have grown up since law school and how eager you are to explore sides of him you have yet to discover. 
The steak is almost done cooking and Jay has spoon-fed you mashed potatoes until they’re to your liking, and you laugh when he celebrates your approval. The seasoned asparagus sits underneath warming lights while the rest of the meal is done cooking, and it wouldn’t feel right to have dinner with Jay without commenting about how much of a professional he looks from where you’re sitting. 
You know it’s the wine in your system intensifying your emotions, but you can’t help but stare at Jay’s muscles as he moves throughout the kitchen. He works effortlessly and seamlessly, never neglecting any part of the meal he’s prepared for you. The level of care and precision he’s exemplifying through his cooking, while simultaneously entertaining you, has rendered you a blushing, giggling mess. You’re sure Jay can tell that you’re already buzzed after two glasses, but he promised to drive you home so you don’t have anything to worry about. 
Jay looks criminally good in dark clothes. His laid back attire makes him look more attractive to you compared to the suit and tie he wears everyday. Something about seeing Jay like he used to be all those years ago stirs something within you. It makes you cross your legs in your seat and perch forward with your elbows on the counter below you as he puts the finishing touches to the meal. 
You requested nothing fancy for tonight upon knowing Jay would drop everything for you to secure a date at the most expensive restaurant and pay the bill to back it up. That could be saved for another today. Tonight is less about wanting Jay to prove himself than wanting to feel comfortable around him, as this would be your first time hanging out with him in his space since law school. 
When he’s finished cooking, Jay pulls the smaller dining table towards the tall window overlooking the city below and seats you in your chair opposite his. He tops you off with another glass of wine when you nod, pouring himself a glass as well. 
Conversation flows like the two of you are out on a first date. You are, in a sense, but you’re also two long lost best friends who happen to have deep feelings for each other, finding yourselves once again. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that’s settled in your system with the headstart you had compared to Jay, or maybe it’s the soft look of adoration in Jay’s eyes when you laugh at his jokes, but tonight you feel as though you’re the only woman in his life who matters to him. 
“I really missed you,” you tell him. Jay looks back at you from the kitchen as he clears the finished dinner plates. Too full to entertain dessert, he leaves it in the fridge until you’re ready to eat again. “I missed this too, you know? Coming over and doing nothing but talking to you, I mean.” 
“I’m here if you’ll have me,” Jay says. You’ve followed him to the kitchen, albeit wobbling because of the wine. Jay reaches out and steadies you with his arms until you’re pushing yourself to hug his body with your arms around his middle. 
“You’re so warm.” You turn your head to peck at his chest before letting your cheek rest against him. Jay closes his eyes and wraps his arms around your body too, his own lips finding the crown of your head. 
“You’re even warmer, but I’ll bet it’s because you had half a bottle of wine.” 
You playfully smack his arm. “Hey. You said you’d drive me home so I took that as a sign to get tipsy.” 
Jay laughs. “I thought you might say something like that. Good thing I have a higher tolerance, isn’t it?” 
You nod against him. “It’s the best.” 
“Do you want to go home now?” Jay asks carefully when the two of you have stood in silence for a good minute or two. When you shake your head, he bites back a smile. “Do you want to watch a movie? You can pick something off of Netflix and we can watch it until you’re ready to go home.”
“Sounds like a perfect idea,” you say, sighing out of content. 
Jay lets you change into one of his oversized shirts that covers you just enough and you walk out of the bathroom looking like sin. It takes everything in him not to comment because he doesn’t want to scare you away. Jay comes to the realization that you likely aren’t wearing shirts underneath because of how the fabric rode up your thigh as you sat on the couch beside him. He desperately tries not to pay any mind to it for the sake of your comfortability. 
Truthfully, Jay wants to wrap you up in his arms and put the blanket he got from his closet over the both of you. But he’s letting you take the lead when it comes to physical contact, unsure of just how comfortable you are with him yet. He’s only just gotten you back in his life. He doesn’t want to scare you away any time soon. 
The movie you picked is somewhat interesting, although Jay can’t say he’s too keen on paying attention. In the first ten minutes, you’ve shifted to rest your head on his shoulder and his arm is now resting behind you to accommodate your body. He feels you dip yourself lower as the movie progresses until you’re fully leaning on his chest, and Jay has a sneaking suspicion you’ve been slowly edging your way into this spot to not make him feel uncomfortable either. 
He puts his free hand on your hip and squeezes your body to let you know he’s right with you. Jay watches you smile and try to hide it. He thinks it makes you look even more attractive than you already are. 
Jay doesn’t know what happens next. Another thirty minutes pass by with easy conversation between the two of you. One thing leads to another and he feels you shifting in front of him, and his mind thinks you’re getting up to tell him you want to leave. 
But you don’t. You shift to face him and push your body up until your face is right in front of his. 
He can feel your breath on his lips. The scent of wine is long gone but your eyes look like they’re searching for something. Jay sees the way your throat constricts and he tries not to look down past where it isn’t appropriate. 
“Is it bad that I want to kiss you?” you ask him just above a whisper. 
Jay doesn’t say anything. He doesn't need to. Instead, he leans forward to push his lips against yours. 
His lips touch your plush ones as his hands encircle your waist to hold you steady, like he’s afraid you’ll topple over on the couch. Your own hands immediately touch his chest and scrape the fabric like an experimental touch. Your lips feel so soft against his and the sounds of your lips smacking against one another become more audible than the soft volume of the television in the background. 
Jay pulls back to see you suppress a grin, but he pinches your side to get you to smile for him. 
“You’re a really good kisser,” you say. “Had any practice?” 
“Just my pillow and a few posters,” he jokes. “I needed to practice so I could kiss you like you deserve.” 
He watches you blush. “Don’t say that. I feel like I’m sixteen again.” 
Jay pecks your lips and lingers for a few seconds. “Good. You make me feel like a teenager too.” 
“Oh yeah?” you ask, shifting yourself until you’re perched on his lap. Jay watches from beneath you as you steady your body by placing both hands on his shoulders and swinging your leg across his lap. 
“Yeah,” he whispers just before you lean down to kiss him again. 
Jay feels your hands wrap around his neck to hold him in front of you like you’re afraid he’s going to push you away again. To quell your fears, his own hands take hold of your wrists before he holds your fingers in his own and gives you a gentle squeeze. You seem to loosen up as you smile into the kiss, prompting Jay to do the same. 
Holding you feels familiar. It feels like coming home after a long, tiring day at the office to the person he loves the most. Having you in his arms after all this time has Jay rethinking his future and where you fit in it. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s ready to risk all that he has if that means seeing you as happy as you are in this very moment. 
You whine when Jay’s lips detach from yours but he smirks into your skin when he hears a soft moan coming from your own upon placing his just below your ear. He thinks how his younger self would’ve killed to hear the sounds you’re making right now and how lucky he is that this opportunity is being granted towards him. You sound like you’re enjoying yourself and that’s all Jay could ever ask of you. 
Your hand creeps below his shirt until your nails are raking his abdomen and you moan when you feel the ridges on his body. He sighs against your neck and you’re left speechless at how his physique has changed since the last time you saw Jay shirtless. The ache in your belly leaves you wanting more and you arch your body until it feels as though you’re completely giving into him before pressing your palms against his body. 
You two kiss with fervor as the minutes go by. Suddenly, Jay feels your body beginning to rock yourself on his lap as your lips find his own. He feels you tug on his shirt until you push it up his neck, breaking contact with him so that he can pull his shirt off completely. 
Your lips feel like heaven against his own skin as you begin to explore every inch of him. He feels you peppering kisses along his jawline and closes his eyes to bask in the feeling of your body so close to his. Jay lets his hands roam around your waist and when you don’t move to push his hands off as his fingers dip beneath the shirt you’re wearing, he smiles to himself and lets his fingertips push the fabric upwards just slightly. The feeling of his hands on your body has you rocking forward until your chest is in front of Jay’s face. You gasp when you realize how hard he’s become underneath you.
“I’m sorry,” Jay begins to apologize. “You’re very attractive.” 
You look down and tilt your head, experimentally pressing your lower half on his crotch. Jay emits a low moan, making your mouth quirk in excitement. 
“You’re very attractive,” you tell him, slowly rocking your body backwards and forwards.
You move to push Jay’s hands closer to your body and he gets the hint. He uses the momentum to push and pull you into him at the pace you set, watching as your mouth opens in euphoria. Jay finds it incredibly attractive the way your eyebrows pinch in arousal every time the tip of his clothed cock bumps your covered core, and if what you’re wearing is anything to go by, he was correct in assuming you weren’t wearing shorts underneath his shirt. 
Your pace quickens with every pass of his cock beneath you. He gets harder and harder, and you get wetter and wetter. Your own slick is rubbing against you from the fabric of your panties and it becomes almost too much to bear. Jay’s hands have found their way to your back as your own body pushes against his. He feels your tits pressing against his chest and the desperation in your hips as you gain momentum while he begins to take control from beneath you. 
Jay bucks into you until you let out a particularly loud gasp. His strength surprises you, as does the force with which he thrusts into you. His clothed cock hits you at the most delicious angle while you’re fighting to stand upright against his lap, fighting to grip the couch and his body at the same time. Jay doesn’t let you breathe, however, until you’re pushing him away so that you can access his lips once again.
The kiss is wet and messy. It’s hot in the room and you’re pushing Jay’s hands until they cup your breasts. He pinches your nipples and watches in pleasure as you throw your head back. 
“My baby likes that, doesn't she?” He pinches them again when you nod and it sends a shock straight down your spine and where you need him the most. 
Jay lifts the shirt just enough to uncover your chest and brings your right bud into his mouth. He licks it with his tongue in an effort to tease you until you’re squirming in his lap. He does the same with the other nipple until you’re pushing yourself against his cock that he grunts and nips at the bud before sucking it with his mouth. 
The pleasure is almost too good to form words. Your mouth stays at a permanent ‘O’ with every swipe of Jay’s tongue and he pushes your shirt until you take it off for him. He places his hands on your breasts and squeezes them in his palms as if getting to know your body better, almost like he wants to commit you to his memory. 
But you’re impatient. After the long years of daydreaming about Jay, you want nothing more than to have him inside of you.
“Please let me have it,” you whisper against his lips, pushing your body down onto his. “I need it so bad, Jay.” 
“We can’t,” he chokes. He doesn’t want to push his luck. “I-I need to drive you home.” 
Not even he believes this pathetic excuse.  
“I don’t care. Drive me home tomorrow.” 
Jay doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He flexes his fingers to distract himself before giving in, placing his grip on your waist and pushing you down onto him. He hears you gasp at the sudden movement and chides himself for being so turned on by you when mere moments ago he was thinking logically. 
“Just the tip,” you mutter against his mouth to convince him. “Please.” 
“Just the tip,” Jay agrees, pushing his trousers just enough to free his cock. To the best of your ability, you take your panties off without moving from his lap and throw it behind him. He finally feels your pussy glide over him and throws his head back, feeling pure euphoria. 
Jay’s cock is thick and long, and you feel it throbbing between your legs. The friction is too delicious to ignore, as is the wet sounds consisting of your arousal covering him. He lifts his head up to watch you bite your lip and look at him with desperation in your eyes. It’s the kind of expression he’s wanted to see from you for so long. Jay can only hope you know that this is how he looks at you. 
It’s quiet in the room, save for wanton breaths and the sound of your own arousal mixing with his precum. It’s so erotic to see you as desperate for him as he is for you because he’s yearned for this moment for so long. Jay bites his lip with every pass as you hover above his tip and he tries his hardest not to buck his hips, instead allowing you to move at your own pace. 
When you catch the tip of his cock inside of your pussy, the two of you let out an audible gasp at the sudden intrusion. His thick head breaches your fluttering hole as he grabs your waist to prevent you from moving when his tip is fully sheathed inside of you. 
“Holy fuck,” you moan, balancing yourself on his hot tip. “Feels so fucking good.”
“Yeah?” Jay asks. “It does, doesn’t it?” You nod rapidly and Jay kisses the side of your mouth before moving to your neck. 
You keep yourself steady by gripping his shoulders that are hot to the touch. He flexes when your nails dig into him, causing you to moan at the sight. Jay feels the movement of your throat as he kisses your neck and grunts when he feels your pussy clench around him. 
The two of you stay like that for a few minutes until your legs give out and you’re holding onto Jay’s neck as a silent plea for him to take over. He gets the hint, wrapping his arms around your body until you’ve fallen limp against his chest. Jay uses his leverage to slowly pull himself out of you before pushing the head of his cock back in. 
The moan you emit against his ear makes him feel like the two of you are starring in your very own sextape. It causes Jay to jerk his hips unexpectedly and push another inch of himself into your pussy by accident. He’s about to apologize until he feels your pussy clenching around him at the sudden intrusion. 
“You’re so big,” you whisper to him. “S-So big. So good.”
“You feel fucking amazing,” Jay praises. “Such a wet pussy and I’ve barely done anything to you.” 
You whimper at his words while closing your eyes shut and move your head until your cheek rests comfortably on his shoulder. The angle allows you to press kisses to Jay’s jawline and you do so until you feel him begging to thrust into you once again. 
The tempo he sets is slow and delicious. He feels every drag as your mixed arousal coats the rest of his cock and Jay feels as though he’s found pure euphoria on earth, the kind that men search for but never seem to find. The shallow thrusts cause his mouth to hang open and his fingers itching to touch your clit, but he doesn’t want to move unless you tell him to. 
It isn’t until you’re pushing yourself down onto his length that he speaks again.
“Baby,” he warns. “I thought–”
“Changed my mind,” you tell him desperately. “Unless you don’t want to.”
Jay nods. “I want to. Fuck, I want to.” 
You kiss him hard before pushing down on him. “I just want you.” 
Jay’s body falls limp when he feels your body glide up and down his cock like you’ve trained your entire life for this very moment. He sees the sweat building between your brows and licks his lips at the way your tits bounce against your chest. It’s sensual the way you look on top of him. Jay brings one of your nipples in his mouth and makes a home there as your hips begin to work his own.  
His body feels like it was made for you to use. The desperation at which his own hips chase yours should make him feel embarrassed, but he feels like a lovesick fool. In this moment, everything he’s ever wanted to say to you lies in the power of his thrusts and the way his lips move with yours. It makes him feel like there’s nothing in this world that could take you away from him. 
He pushes himself up until you’re clinging onto his body for dear life. The sounds you make push him even harder against your body, drilling his hard cock within you until you’re moaning like somebody’s filming you. It’s all too much for Jay to handle, and he’s glad he feels you come undone before him.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” you moan out, clenching against his cock as it works your body until completion. 
Jay pulls out and finishes on your ass just after you’ve come down from your own high. You jolt when you feel his come on your skin but move to kiss him as the two of you come down from your respective highs and he feels your heartbeat against his chest, smiling into the kiss. 
“You’re amazing,” he tells you between kisses. He tries to speak but you silence him with more pecks. “Let me clean you up, yeah?” 
Your heart feels warm. You nod and let him pry your body off of his, carefully laying on your stomach so that the couch doesn’t see the mess Jay created. He comes back a moment later with a warm washcloth and his trousers zipped up before wiping you clean. The rag is tossed onto the floor as he pulls your body towards him, wrapping your legs around his torso, and pulling your lips to his once more. 
“Stay the night?” he asks you. 
“That was my plan, but I’m glad you brought it up before I did.” 
Jay pinches your thigh and hears you laugh. He could die like this. 
“Since it’s a weekend, I think you and I have a lot of catching up to do.” Jay kisses down your neck and between the valley of your breasts, gliding his lips along your stomach until they’ve reached just below your belly button. 
“Oh? And what is it you’re promising, Park Jongseong?” 
Jay smirks up at you from where he’s positioned. 
“I have an idea in mind,” he says coyly, moving his mouth to press a chast kiss on your slit. “It has a lot to do with my mouth and my fingers.” Your body arches when Jay’s tongue licks a bold stripe up your slit. 
“I like the sound of that. Would you let me return the favor?” 
“Only if you cum on my tongue twice.” 
You push his face into your core.
“Better get a head start.”
*✧・゚─────────── *✧・゚
1K notes · View notes
hanahaki270 · 1 year ago
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♡ Sharing a Dorm ♡
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Synopsis ┊Your dorm is going under renovation and you need to find a place to crash in for a while. Luckily a certain someone offers you to stay in theirs for the time being.
Characters ┊Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Izuku Midoriya.
A/N ┊beginner Writer here, these were harder to think of than I thought ngl. If you have any requests please send them to me, I'm open to do different characters and also different anime's!
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Katsuki Bakugou
❥ By no means whatsoever does he offer his dorm out of the kindness of his heart. He just got pissed off of seeing you sleeping on the couch in the commons area every morning, and accidentally stepping on your blanket or pillows. After stepping on your blanket once more he grabs your shit and puts it in his dorm and acts like he's bothered by this but really he doesn't mind at all.
❥ Makes you sleep on the floor for the first two nights until you convince him to share the bed. He's reluctant at first but then allows it as long as you stay on your side of the bed. Do you really though?
❥ Expect to sleep earlier and get your sleep schedule in check because his dorm, his rules, lights are off at ten pm sharp with no exceptions.
❥ Also expect your grades to go up. While he's your roommate he's going to make you don't slack off on your studies.
❥ When he wakes up in the morning and notices your head resting on his chest he gets somewhat annoyed but secretly likes it. he's willing to get behind on his strict schedule and let you rest on him a little longer. but just a little.
❥ Demands you now be his training partner but is careful to not get carried away. You're strong, but he still doesn't want to run the risk of hurting you. therefore, he always keeps Aid kits in the bathroom just in case you do get any scratches, even if they're minor.
❥ Constantly threatening to kick you out over every little thing but actually has no intention of doing so. He won't admit it but he enjoys your company. "I swear if I see one more sock lying around I'm grabbing your shit and throwing it out."
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Shoto Todoroki
❥ "Why don't you sleep with me." he said boldly unaware of how his sentence had more than one connotation to it. I mean you need help and as your friend he's more than willing to help you out. plus he has the biggest dorm compared to everyone else, if anything he's the most suitable to offer his help he thought.
❥ Asks you what temperature you prefer to sleep in so he can use his quirk to either make the room colder or warmer depending on your preference. and ALWAYS makes sure to make both sides of your pillows cold.
❥ When he's out visiting his mother you make sure the place is clean (though it usually is since he tends to be on the neater side) and prepare some soba for him as a token of your appreciation. After a couple of times he starts to look forward for it and got saddened the one day you forgot.
❥ In return he made sure not turn on the lights when getting ready in the morning as to not wake you up. Part of it was for a selfish reason though, he thought it was cute how you slept soundly on his bed.
❥ Speaking about sleep; During the night he would find himself cozying up next to you, not on purpose though. He just felt comfort in your presence and he realized you felt the same way when you also moved closer to him during the night.
❥ Leaves out coffee for you in the mornings since you tend to stay up late on nights and wake up always running late to your classes.
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Izuku Midoriya
❥ Overheard you talking to Tsuyu and Uraraka about how you need a place to sleep in and walked over to offer his help without a second thought. You already spend most of your time in his dorm room during the day to share notes anyways. The only difference would just be you spending the night.
❥ Offers for you to sleep in his bed while he sleeps on the floor. After you refuse to let him sleep on the floor he shyly agrees to share the bed with you constantly asking you if you're okay with it.
❥ Midoriya stays up late at night writing in his notebook and murmuring thoughts to himself. You persuade him to go to bed and leave his worries for the following day. he deeply apologizes for the burden kind of embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry! was I keeping you up? I'll go to bed in a few minutes don't worry."
❥ Always invites you to go out with him whenever he leaves the dorm, even if it's something as simple as going to the gas station to get some snacks.
❥ he loves to talk your ear off geeking out about the knowledge he knows about the top heroes and their quirks. When he notices he got carried away he gets all types of flustered but even then he doesn't get the sense of being judged.
❥ Since he's constantly getting injured and going to see Recovery girl he always comes back exhausted. regardless, his stubborn ass still tries to go out on missions and push himself to the limits. he get's frustrated when you don't let him do so and force him to rest and leave his chores to you. But he loves you for it.
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marvelwitchergilmore · 11 days ago
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Anchor
Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> Bucky is there for you when no-one else is.
Disclaimer: Hurt/comfort fic, little angst, little fluff, Bucky is there for the reader, mentions of missions going wrong and agents getting hurt, quiet comfort. Not Proof Read.
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The waiting room was completely empty. Down the hallway, a nurse was signing something on a chart, a doctor was walking to another wing and in the other direction was the Shield agent you’d been assigned to rescue. 
The mission had been tough. Tougher than you’d had in a long time. But you survived. You both did. You got both you and the agent out. 
You’d been checked over three hours ago. Muddy, covered in ash, some dried blood. But no damage. Physically, at least. Meanwhile, the agent was still in surgery for internal bleeding. 
You were trying your best to take some deep breaths. Trying to keep your nerves calm and controlled. But the longer time went on, the harder it was getting. 
That was when he showed up. Bucky Barnes. The one man you’d barely spoken to despite working together for the last six years. It was like he had some kind of special ability to know when you needed someone and…you were always more than grateful that he was the one to show up. 
He didn’t say anything. He was still in his tactical gear so you could only guess he’d finished up mentoring the training module for the day. He just walked down the hallway quietly before sitting beside you. He looked at you. He’d known you for so long, he didn’t need to study you anymore. He didn’t need to read into the microexpressions you couldn’t hide. 
He just knew. 
You barely even looked at him before the tears started falling. 
If it had been anyone else, you would have been able to hold your nerve. You would have forced yourself to talk through it, to tell them what the doctors told you and hold onto the hope they’d tell you to have. 
But not with Bucky. 
With Bucky you were safe. Safe enough to let the walls come crashing down without panicking over how quickly you’d have to pick the bricks back up again. 
His arm wrapped around your back as he held you close to his chest, his hand in your hair. This thumb rubbed at your temple, like it usually would when he laid his cheek on the top of your head. 
He didn’t whisper comforting words. He didn’t tell you that you’d be okay or that you did a good job. He could tell you that later. Right then, you just needed to be held. To be shown you were safe. The world wasn’t ending…not in the hospital waiting room, at least. You’d held your own without even a small break for a long, long time. You didn’t need to hold it anymore. 
Bucky didn’t keep track of time or how long he held you. He would have held you till the end of time if it meant you’d be ten percent better than when he first walked in. 
He could remember the first time he’d held you. 
One of the agents you were close to in your division had been helping the team out for six months. On one of the missions, they’d gotten hurt. Their family had met you at the hospital with the rest of the team. 
Bucky had stayed in the back, watching as everything unfolded. How their mother asked the doctors ten different questions, waited for their answers and five minutes later asked you the same questions, along with, “Why didn’t you help them?”. 
Sam had stepped in, answering that particular question for you. You didn’t know how to answer it. But Bucky could see your mind answering it for you. But it was all a lie. They knew what they were getting themselves in for, and though Bucky hadn’t said too much to them, he knew they wouldn’t want you to be asked something like that; it wasn’t up to you to keep them safe. 
Bucky watched as nurses pulled you aside and told you things before they let everyone else know. He watched as you were asked to sign different sheets of paper and fill in far too much information. 
Eventually, all the questions and voices and tears got to be too much. Whilst everyone talked, you took an opportunity to step away for a moment. Bucky had followed after you. He wasn’t going to let you be alone when what you needed in that moment was the complete opposite. 
He’d found you down an empty corridor trying to force the overwhelming tears and sobs back into your body. 
Even then he didn’t say anything. He just walked towards you and held out his hand, touching your shoulder to turn you. You hugged him without thinking about it and he held you tight. His hand held the back of your head, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth. 
He could feel your fingers digging tightly into his skin, but it didn’t hurt. You were holding onto him like an anchor. 
It was still the same. 
With his arm around your back, your fingers held onto his bicep. Maybe you hadn’t talked much in the last six years. No more than standard co-workers who saw each other maybe once or twice a week. Maybe he wasn’t your best friend. 
But he was your Anchor. 
He was your safe space. 
He was the one person you could turn to and know…you didn’t need to be okay. You didn’t need to be strong and unemotional. 
With him, you could let your walls down. And he never judged. Not for a moment. 
A few hours passed before he eventually spoke. 
“Stay here. I’ll be back.”
He’d wiped away your tears and kissed the side of your head before standing, not letting go of your hand until he had to. He’d walked over to the nurses station and asked for a couple supplies before pulling out his phone as they walked away. They’d brought them almost instantly. He thanked them before walking back to you. 
That was when he crouched in front of you, his hand on your thigh. “I’m gonna clean you up a little. Is that okay?”
You nodded and he opened up the kit before wiping the tear, mud and blood stains away from your skin. He dabbed carefully as some smaller grazes that had been missed. 
“I’m gonna take you home.” He continued talking before you could speak after shaking your head. “I’ve already texted Sam. He’s gonna send one of Barton’s team down here. If anything happens, they can deal with it. You need to rest and get some decent sleep.”
When he’d finished up, he handed the spare supplies back, thanking the nurses once more before returning to you. He’d opened up the passenger side door to help you in. And by the time he got you home, you were already asleep. 
You only woke when you felt your head hit something soft. 
“Bucky?”
“I’m here,” he whispered, softly.
“Stay?”
“Okay.”
Taking off his boots, he climbed on top of the bed and laid beside you. You were asleep instantly. 
Neither of you talked about it in the morning. But Bucky stayed with you all day. When you went back to the hospital, when you handed your report back in and when you came back home. 
After dinner, you sat beside him and he lifted his arm, letting you settle beside him as he continued reading. Neither of you really had to talk. But you knew something for certain. 
For as much as you and Bucky rarely talked, you’d shared more conversations than you could count. 
He was your Anchor. And nothing would ever change that. 
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fallenprophets · 8 days ago
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told you I'll be waiting, hiding from the rainfall
robert "bob" reynolds x reader
can be read as a prequel to I will never let you go
summary: he left you in Malaysia, volunteering for a study he promised would make him "better". You've almost come to terms with the fact that he's gone, when you see him again. no use of y/n, gender neutral reader as always. listened to cigarettes after sex while writing this.
warnings: swearing, mentions of drug abuse, slight thunderbolts* spoilers, notttt proofread like at all
a/n: alright gang, i actually genuinely don't know if this is good or not. might delete and rewrite in the morning? i just had to get something out because thunderbolts* had me feeling a certain typa way.
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I thought I had lost him. 
I was so sure. I knew, from the moment I lost sight of him as he stepped into that shady fuckin’ tent in Malaysia. Knew that something was wrong, that he was in some kind of danger. I should’ve tried harder to stop him- not let go of his hand, convinced him that he was already special. 
But that hope in his eyes- hope that he’d be made better, that they’d fix whatever was wrong with him- that’s what stopped me. That’s what made me hug him one last time, kiss the spot under his ear, run my fingers through his hair. Turn away once he was gone, walk away. 
Of course, he didn’t leave that tent- as I’d expected. I tried the Malaysian authorities, but no one cares when a meth addict tourist goes missing- same when I went back home, talked to the police. 
And things were bad, for a little while. I was alone again, and I felt it. Walked that line between life and death, constantly keeping myself high, or drunk. Thought that was it for me. 
I don’t know what happened. It was his birthday- he’d been gone for a while, and in a fit of insanity, I checked myself into rehab. Got better, made some friends. Even got a job, with the help of a few people. I’m considering going to college; got enough saved for something like that. 
I’ve not moved on, not in the slightest. But my life has continued; didn’t freeze when he disappeared, despite the fact that I felt it did. 
And then, New York happened. Or whatever the fuck that was- everyone disappearing into that void, myself included. And I found myself reliving my worst memories- including losing him. 
I woke up exactly where I was standing before, hands pressed over my ears. My heart is thudding in my chest, my breathing heavy and staggered. People around me are just as confused, running to grab onto loved ones, falling into each other’s arms. 
The tears are quick to come, and not unexpected. Reliving that moment- the last goodbye, watching him walk away- it’s too much, all at once. I curl my arms in, tuck them close to my chest as if protecting myself from something. And I start to walk, trying to ignore the people all around me, hugging, crying out relieved words to each other. 
The loneliness- a feeling I haven’t acknowledged for a long time- is almost crushing in its suddenness. It’s as if I lost him yesterday. 
I’m consumed by it, leaning heavily on the wall of this alleyway clutching at my stomach like a wounded dog. Gasping, sucking in deep breaths to calm myself down. I don’t notice the press gathering, the podium being set up with all its microphones. I don’t even notice the director of the CIA of all people announcing a new team of heroes. 
He catches my eye when I look up, though. 
I stop breathing for a moment as my gaze locks on someone; someone so achingly familiar I almost drop to my knees. It’s like someone has knocked the wind out of me; punched me in the throat, kicked me in the ribs. I can’t breathe- doesn’t even feel like my heart is beating- as I take in the man standing a few feet behind the woman at the podium, dressed in a blue sweater and brown trousers and scuffed trainers. His hair is a little longer, his face sharper, but it’s him. I’d recognise him anywhere, by touch alone, in the dark. 
I open my mouth to say his name, and nothing comes. 
I don’t think he’s seen me yet. He looks bewildered, maybe a bit scared. I push myself out of the alleyway and stumble over, shoving journalists out of the way. 
Finally, finally, his eyes meet mine. And everything around me fades to a dull buzzing sound. 
His lips move. He must be saying my name, I think dumbly to myself as I stop right at the edge of the stage. Someone- a woman with shorter blond hair, dressed in black gear- seems to notice the way Bob’s eyes have locked onto me, and expertly draws the CIA director’s attention away. He’s able to duck out of the way, slowly stepping towards me. 
My heart thunders, louder and louder as he gets closer. I say his name, and he says mine. His expression has shifted to one of pure, almost painful relief, and he half-jumps off the makeshift stage. 
I say his name one last time, and he crashes into me. 
It’s instinctual, the way his arms wind around my shoulders; the way I find the crook of his neck, bury my face in it and breathe him in for what feels like the first time in centuries. His hand cradles the back of my head, the thumb of the other automatically tracing circles on my shoulder. I press my palms flat to his back, pull him as close as I possibly can. 
“Oh my god,” I choke out against his skin. He’s shaking slightly; I can almost feel his heartbeat thumping against mine as he hugs me. Cameras flash and shutters clack, and I know photos are being taken of us. 
I pull away, cup his face in my hands. I realise I’m crying, the tears coming hot and heavy and blurring my vision as I try to take him in fully. He says my name again, so soft, and I press an almost frantic kiss to the corner of his mouth. His hands don’t leave my waist, grip tightening sporadically as if he’s checking that I’m really here. 
It’s over all too quickly. Some kind of medical team arrives, and he has to let go of me. I don’t leave his side, though; sit close by through every test they run on him. We exchange very few words, but I think he understands; I am never letting him walk away from me again. 
Eventually, they let him hold my hand; and he doesn’t let go. 
It’s four in the morning when they finally let Bob go; and it takes a lot of persuasion from the people he’s with- the Thunderbolts, as they’re being referred to (against their will, it seems). I forget their names as soon as they’re introduced to me, my primary focus on getting out of here, on being alone with him. 
And finally, the others go, promising to see him again tomorrow. And I get to walk tucked against his side, show him up to my apartment. 
He’s quiet, and I don’t mind it. I give him my favourite grey sweater and some old pajama trousers to change into, show him the bathroom. He showers while I busy myself making tea- something I got more into after rehab, ‘cause my new neighbour took it upon herself to show me how. I burn my hand on the kettle twice, still shaking slightly from the shock of seeing Bob again. Maybe not well, but alive, and that’s enough for me- more than enough. 
He comes out of the bathroom, and I almost drop my cup of tea again. Carefully, slowly, I set it aside on the kitchen counter. Fiddle with the hem of my shirt, clear my throat. We’re staring at each other; almost hungrily, I take him in, standing here in my home, wearing my clothes. My heart hasn’t stopped thundering violently in my chest, and I feel a little lightheaded from just watching him. 
“I…” I trail off, words already failing me. I cough, nervously shuffle my feet. Try again. “I missed you.” 
My voice breaks, and I put a hand over my mouth. My vision blurs, and I realise the tears are back. 
I reach my other hand out, and stumble towards him. He catches my halfway, arms winding around my waist to hold me up- but we both end up on our knees anyway, clinging onto each other for dear life. I allow myself to sob into his shoulder, and I think he cries too, his grip so tight; as if he’s scared of losing me. 
Eventually, I pull away, wipe my face with my sleeve. Take his face in my hands again, brush my thumbs over his cheekbones. Confirming that he’s alive, that he’s here with me. He looks destabilised; his eyes are maybe a little glassy, both from crying and whatever it is he’s been through over the time we’ve been apart. 
“I missed you,” I repeat softly. “So, so much. Thought you were dead.”
His gaze flits over my face, like he doesn’t quite know where to look. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, so I stand, pulling him up with me; keep one hand firmly on his wrist, ‘cause I don’t want to let go just yet. 
“Do you want to sleep in the bed?” I ask softly. 
“Where will you sleep?” He asks, in the same quiet, somewhat shaky tone. 
“I can take the couch.” I want nothing more than to sleep right next to him, but if he needs space, I’ll be more than happy to provide. 
“Can you… stay?” He’s quieter as he says it, his eyes twitching ever so slightly. I’m quick to nod, squeezing his hand. 
“Of course,” I murmur. He nods, and I think I catch a hint of a nervous smile. 
We’ve shared a bed before- when neither of us could afford our own place, ‘cause we were spending all our money on drugs. But that was a dingy mattress on the floor, and we were both high out of our minds most of the time- I can hardly remember it. 
This is a real bed. One of the first things I bought for this apartment, in hopes that it would help me sleep better, so I didn’t spend nights staring at the ceiling, itching for something to either lull me into unconsciousness or keep me awake and buzzed enough to silence the loneliness crawling under my skin. 
I lead him into the bedroom, still clinging onto his hand. Only let go to climb in, instantly huddling against the wall to make as much room as possible. But as soon as he’s under the covers, his hand finds my waist, and he pulls; so I shuffle forwards, ‘till he’s tucked against my chest, my chin resting on his head. He has an arm around my waist, hand resting flat between my shoulder blades. I let my fingers run through his hair, still a little damp from the shower. 
He shifts again, lifting his head so our foreheads press together. His nose bumps mine, like a silent question. I answer by nudging closer, until I’m breathing his air and he’s breathing mine. So intimate, as his hand finds my neck, thumb once again brushing my cheekbone. 
One of us- I’m not sure who- breaks the small gap. And suddenly, his mouth is on mine, or my mouth is on his. And it’s warm, and soft, and so, so gentle. I think it’s the first time we’ve kissed and my stomach erupts with the thought- the knowledge that somehow, this is a final gap we’ve bridged. One I’ve regretted not bridging sooner ever since he went missing. 
He kisses hungrily, but not in a bruising way. It’s almost mournful, the way his mouth moves against mine, the way he breaths me in as his fingers dig ever so slightly into the back of my neck. Not painful, but sad, like he’s scared of losing me- losing me again, I suppose. 
He pulls away, and I kiss his forehead as he curls into me. 
Our ankles cross, and I watch him shut his eyes, listen to his breathing slow. I don’t sleep, but I think he does. 
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nanaslutt · 1 year ago
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Hypocrite
Tojo Fushiguro x reader
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Synopsis: when things get steamy with Toji, you accidentally surprise him with something that makes him lose his mind
Incl: fem reader, established relationship, non-curse au, Toji still has Megumi, dry humping, dirty talk, oral(f!r), panty kink, fingering, face sitting, masturbation, use of the word 'daddy' once but not in a kinky way, whipped Toji
MDNI
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note: for the lovely @istyrrstars thank u for drawing me w/ the loml uraume, pls enjoy ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ��
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
A pair of large hands gripped the fat of your ass and pulled you further up on his lap as Toji deepened the kiss, wanting to feel you closer to him. You sat right on against Toji's half-hard-on, not daring to rock your hips back and forth on him so you wouldn't appear needy. You and Toji had been watching one of the shows you had been quite enamored with lately. The time that the show came on was perfect too, always starting a new episode right after Toji's kid, Megumi, fell asleep. 
The large man took his chance during the commercial break to pull your body on top of his lap. His hands rubbed up and down the length of your thighs teasingly before he looked down at your plush lips with dark eyes and gave you a handsome smirk, his eyes finding yours. "Gimmie a kiss." He spoke softly, his deep voice reverberating in your ears as he puckered his lips like a child, his lips smacking against each other in cute kissy noises as he waited for you to lean in on your own accord. 
The kiss had started playful and innocent, but as usual with Toji, kisses never stayed innocent. Hell, not even holding hands was an innocent gesture with this insatiable man. Toji was soon pulling quiet moans and whines from you as your tongues danced together in the other's mouths, creating lewd smacking noises to echo off the walls. 
"Shhhh..." Toji hushed against your lips, smirking before he pressed his lips to yours once again. He thought it was so cute how worked up you got from just a couple of kisses, and you thought he was mean for doing it, he knew you had a hard time keeping quiet when you were aroused. Toji's hands started massaging your ass, silently urging you to start rocking your hips against him for a little friction. 
You groaned in protest, already knowing what this was going to lead to. It's not that you didn't want to escalate things with Toji necessarily, but the two of you had gone at it for so long last night and you were still sore. "Move your hips for me, baby, just a little, c'mon," Toji whispered against your lips, his words already coming out slightly breathy. You rolled your eyes internally, who got worked up easy? 
Pulling away from the kiss you knocked your forehead against Toji's, staring into his hooded eyes. His face was blurry from the proximity, but you could still clearly see the need swirling in his eyes. "Yeah?" Toji whispered, almost inaudibly as he licked his lips, keeping his eyes on yours. You pouted at him before you gave in, starting to rock your hips on top of him.
"Good girl..." Toji cooed, a sinister smile spreading across his face as he connected your lips once more, the kiss returning with more hunger. He groaned quietly against your mouth--his hands gripped your ass with more fervor as he tried to get you to rut down against him harder, faster.
"T-toji-" You gasped against him, your hot breath tickling his lips.
Toji leaned back against the couch, distancing your faces so he could take in the sight in front of him. Your lips were swollen and wet from the sloppy kiss, and your eyes were already starting to lose focus the longer you rocked your hips against him. Toji looked down to where the two of you were touching. His smile grew in size when he realized how prominent the bulge of his cock was through his thin black basketball shorts.
"That feel's good doesn't it?" Toji asked, studying your face. You pouted at him, not wanting to fully give in just yet. One of Toji's hands left your ass to caress your face, his thumb sliding over your lip, pulling your bottom one down as he exposed your bottom row of teeth, his eyes following his movements. He knew exactly how to tease you to drive you crazy.
"Do you like rubbin' ur pussy all over my cock?" Toji whispered, his warm breath hitting your face from the proximity. His words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, down your spine, and straight to your throbbing clit. "Huh? Talk to me." You spread your lips for Toji as his thumb slipped onto your tongue, pressing down as he held your chin with the rest of his fingers. "Uh-huh." You responded your response a bit slurred from his finger in your mouth.
You wrapped your lips around it and suckled, the same way you did to the tip of his cock. You quickly forgot about how he said he just wanted you to move a little, but you were familiar with his game, you knew once he had a taste he had to go all the way. "You pretendin' that's my cock?" he teased, biting his bottom lip as he smirked at you, feeling how you eagerly licked and rolled your tongue around the finger between your lips. 
You were about to respond when you were cut off by Toji reciprocating your thrusts, his cock pressing right into your sensitive little bud, making you yelp out a moan unexpectedly. Toji gripped the fat of your ass as a warning as he slowed your thrusts against him, simultaneously pressing his thumb deeper into your mouth to gag you. "Be quiet baby, don't wanna want my kid, do you?" He teased, raising his eyebrows at you.
You shook your head, both of your hands gripping the wrist of the thumb he had stuffed in your mouth. "Gotta make sure you stay quiet, you're too sensitive right now." He mumbled. In an instant Toji slid his thumb out from between your lips with a pop, saliva sticking to the finger briefly before he wrapped his arms around your body and placed you down against the couch, Toji's body caging you under him. 
Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctually as he held your head in his hands, his lips finding yours hurriedly to keep you quiet before he started thrusting his clothed cock against you. The new angle felt so perfect, he was rubbing against you right where you needed him each time he humped against you, and now that he was the one in charge of the pace, you could let go and relax against the cushions as Toji took control and made the both of you feel good.
"You feel so good against me," Toji mumbled between kisses, his breath picking up the longer he touched your skin. You nodded in agreement, trying to keep your whimpers down as his hands started caressing down your body, his weight crushing you as he did so. Toji's lips left yours far too soon for your liking as he sat back, resting on his heels with your legs spread over his thighs.
"Let's get these off of you, hm?" He whispered, tucking his lips into his mouth as he pulled down your shorts with the help of you raising your ass off the cushion for him so he could slide them off easier. Toji kept his eyes on yours as he undressed you with ease, leaving your panties on. Toji lifted your leg as he pulled it through the hole of your pants, kissing the skin of your ankle before he placed it back down over his thigh.
When Toji finally let his eyes fall to your panty-clad pussy, he froze in place. He could feel the way his face changed color from pale, to a dark crimson as he took in the material that was covering your cunt. Your crotch was covered in a gorgeous pink thong up to right where your groin ended, above that, two holes in the material in the shapes of triangles that exposed the skin on your outer groin. The top of the garment was decorated in a gorgeous black lace that spread over your hips until it was cut off there by the pink lace that wrapped around your ass. 
Toji was at a loss for words, he felt his mouth run dry as he took in the sight. "W- Is this new?" Toji asked, stuttering as he spoke. His fingers pinched the thin strap that rested on your hipbone, the color contrasting agaisnt your skin nicely. You looked down at your crotch to see what Toji was talking about. "Oh, these? Mmm, yeah I guess." You responded nonchalantly. You had bought the panties ages ago but had never worn them for some reason, but you sure as hell were glad you decided to pick them out this morning from Toji's reaction alone. 
"You like them?" You added, smiling at Toji as you felt your face get hot from all the attention he was giving you down there. "Do I like them? Fuck, you're driving me crazy. Almost came in my pants the second I saw them." Toji replied, his large hand covering his mouth as his face scrunched in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing together. "I didn't know they would have such an effect on you." You giggled, putting on a show for Toji by wiggling your hips.
"I would've worn them ages ago if it meant you were going to act like this." You kept your voice down as you spoke, making your words sound more sensual. Toji shook his head in disbelief as he let his hand slide down his face, resting against your thigh. "I was gonna get us off just like this, but I don't think it'll be enough after seein' these. Toji whispered, the blush deepening as his fingers played with the holes of the panties, the tips of them tickling your skin as he played with the material between his fingers.
"Think you can stay quiet for me, mama?" Toji asked, a mischievous look spreading across his face. You weren't sure what he had in mind, but you nodded regardless. His shameless show of his own arousal filled you with ten times the need you had before. Your clit throbbed as Toji slid down between your thighs, his hands placing your legs over his shoulders as he came face to face with your covered cunt.
"W-wait wait-" You said, feeling your face heat up as he leaned into you. Your hands pushed his shoulders to stop him before your hands slid up to card through his hair. You averted your eyes before you spoke, the words you hadn't even said embarrassing you as you thought them over. "I... I want us to feel good together." You said coyly, pouting at him as you built up the courage to find his eyes.
"Seriously you-" Toji looked at you incredulously, how did you learn to be so cute? His head flopped down against your pelvis as he tried to get ahold of himself, his cock threatening to spill his seed already and he hadn't even so much as licked you yet. When he raised his head after a couple of seconds, his hair was tousled in every direction and a deep blush was spread across his face, making him look adorable. Could you even call a man like Toji Fushiguro adorable? Well, it was true. 
"Watch me cum just from eatin' this pussy. Don't worry about me." Toji assured before he leaned in and pressed his nose agaisnt your cunt, inhaling your scent. You hated when Toji did that, it made you so self-conscious. You scrunched your face in embarrassment as your hands tried to push his head away from you again. "Toji..." You whined, looking away as he smelled you. 
You missed the way his eyes rolled back in his head as he inhaled the scent of you. His cock spit out a long bead of pre-cum against the inside of his boxers as he relished in your smell like some sort of pervert. He was unable to resist the urge to hump his hips against the couch cushion, trying to relieve himself. "Fuuuck, you smell so fuckin' good. I'm so hard right now ur' drivin' me crazy," He moaned, his eyes falling shut. 
Begrudgingly, you forced yourself to look back down at the man between your legs. You were grateful you did at that moment because you were able to watch him lick a fat stripe up your clothed cunt with his warm tongue, his tastebuds taking in the essence of your pussy that had leaked through the fabric. "Oh- shit-" You whined, your head tipping back against the cushions.
You must've been a little too loud for Toji's liking because his hand slid up your body to rest just under your neck, his fingers curling against your skin. Both of your hands immediately held his hands over your chest, bracing yourself before he really went to town. "Keep it down, mama. If you wake my kid I'm gonna be fuckin' pissed. Don't try me right now." He said, his words harsh but his tone needy and threatless. He must really be into this, you've never seen him so worked up about something so trivial like a pair of panties before.
"S-sorry, okay, I'll be quiet, promise." You responded, nodding hastily. You just wanted to feel his tongue on you already, you had to be good. "If you struggling, bite the pillow I don't care." Those were the last words you heard from him before his lips latched onto your clit through your panties, his warm tongue poking and prodding against the little bud as he sucked you. 
Your thighs squeezed around his head at the stimulation, your toes curling against his back in tandem. "Oh fuck-" You moaned quietly, your eyes rolling back in your head as Toji expertly massaged your clit with his tongue. He moaned softly around it, sending vibrations through the little bud, making you go cross-eyed. 
He steadily humped his hips agaisnt the cushions, the crack where the two cushions met was providing Toji with just the right amount of friction as he ground against them. Despite Toji tongue fucking you through your panties, it still felt heavenly, you bet you could cum like this-- but Toji had other ideas. 
You felt his fingers prod against the part of the panties that covered the opening of your cunt, making your back arch against him before he was pulling the fabric to the side and rubbed his thick finger against your dripping entrance. He pulled his mouth off of your clothed clit to let the fabric pull back with his fingers, exposing the unobstructed little bud to his hungry eyes--and mouth.
"Toji..." You whined, "Put it in." You pouted, breathing rapidly as you tried to hump against him, pushing your hips into the air. Usually, Toji would tease you about being needy or say some smart remark back, but right now, he had nothing to say. Toji pressed his finger against the tight ring of your wet cunt, easily penetrating your walls as he started thrusting it in and out, curling it when it was fully inserted to massage your g-spot.
"R-right there baby- right there-" You gasped, one of your hands leaving his own as you slapped it over your mouth, muffling your whines as he fingerfucked you at a steady pace. "Pussy's louder than you," Toji laughed, his eyes carefully watching how you sucked him in so greedily. "God you have the prettiest fucking cunt...fuck." He mumbled, mostly to himself before he leaned down and took your clit back into his mouth.
This time, the stimulation felt ten times more intense as he was sucking you directly now. You bit your lip behind your hand as you tried to stay quiet. Your abs clenched as your body jerked forward when Toji sucked too hard on your clit, making you see stars behind your eyelids. 
Toji felt drunk on you as he ate you out mindlessly, his cock steadily humping against the couch as he licked your clit with fervor, spelling his name across the little bud. You wanted to complain when Toji slid his thick finger out of your tight cunt, but it was quickly replaced with his long tongue fucking into you as his thumb now took its place on your clit, rubbing quick circles over it.
You were unable to decide what felt better as your body shook with pleasure. Toji felt himself on the brink of orgasm as he tasted your juices directly, his tongue lapping into your pussy hurriedly. He felt like he had to be quick for some reason, maybe it was how worked up he was. All he knew is he needed you to cum all over his face, and soon--preferably before he painted the inside of his boxers white with his cum.
"I- I can't take this." Toji suddenly growled, pulling away from your cunt entirely. You were hardly able to comprehend what had happened in just a few seconds in your blissed-out state, but Toji was now under you as you straddled his collarbone, your slick dripping against his hot skin. "You gotta sit on my face mama, fuck, please." He begged needily, that same domineering tone laced in his words.
Every nerve of your body was set on fire at his words. You loved seeing Toji like this, it made you feel hot and bothered all over. You nodded and quickly placed your shaky thighs around his head, your cunt hovering above his mouth just out of reach. "Don't hover, sit on my fucking face I can take it. C'mon, give it to me." Toji growled, his hands making quick work of pulling his shorts and boxers down enough to pull his hard cock out as he spoke.
Without another word, you sat down on his face, pressing your whole weight on top of him. His eyes immediately rolled back in his head as he dove into your cunt, his hand jerking rapidly over his cock, the speed at which he was going making it look like a blur. You gripped his sweaty hair harshly with one hand, making Toji groan at the painful pleasure as you pressed your other over your mouth again.
This was too much, you weren't going to last like this. Toji ate you out like a man starved, He was so sloppy with it. His jaw opened and closed against you as he alternated between tongue fucking you and sucking your clit into his mouth. You rocked your hips along his face, your clit bumping against his sharp nose, making your body fall forward at the harsh stimulation. 
Toji started squirming against the couch as his noises became louder. He was even louder than you, even with your cunt smothering his face. "God Toji- s-suck my clit again I'm gonna cum-" You whined, gasping into your hand. He nodded as he sucked your clit between his plush lips, his eyes fluttered as his hips absentmindedly humped into his hand, making your body rock with him from how much he was moving. 
Toji got rough often, but his movements were still calculated and thought out. Right now though, he was gone. He was fucking into his fist with no specific pace as he thoughtlessly licked up your juices, his tongue doing whatever it thought would feel good using muscle memory from all the times he ate you out before. "Toji q-quiet, be quiet-" You tried to get through to him when his volume increased, but you knew it was over for him when you looked down and saw how glassed over and out of focus his eyes were.
"Mmmm- m-mm-" Toji's body jerked forward, his back arching as his orgasm hit him unexpectedly, white ropes of his cum spilling out from his cock. You came on his tongue right after him, your body falling forward as you hunched over his head, your hands catching yourself on the edge of the couch as you rode your orgasm out on his mouth. He stuck his tongue out for you to jerk against as you came, letting you use him for your own pleasure as his orgasm wrapped through his own body, making him go dumb. 
You slid your hips off of his mouth, leaning your body back as you sat on his chest and braced your arms back against his toned thighs, your hands landing in something warm and sticky--you could take a guess at what that was. Toji's body twitched under you with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He must've cum hard, he came before you and he was still feeling it even after you finished. 
You laid down on top of him, your inner thighs getting smeared with his seed as his cock poked limply against your leg. He inhaled rapid and shaky breaths through his mouth as he fought to catch his breath. His entire face was coated in your wetness, it made you feel a little embarrassed as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wet lips, tasting yourself on him.
"You okay, daddy?" You asked, teasing him with the nickname. He inhaled a deep breath, sighing before he spoke. "I'm okay mama." He replied, his eyes still out of focus as his hand caressed the side of your face, his fingers tracing over your ear. "You were really feelin' it." You laughed, pressing kisses to his face, simultaneously wiping some of your wetness off of his skin.
"Wear... wear those panties more often." He whispered between breaths, his unfocused eyes staring at the ceiling as he spoke. "Only when Megumi isn't home." You said, poking your finger against his nose. "You broke your own rule y'know, I'm surprised you didn't wake the kid." You laughed, resting your head agaisnt his chest.
Toji's warm hands rubbed soothingly over your back, "Whatever he's fine." Toji brushed it off, making you roll your eyes at how relaxed he was about it now that he had broken his rule--hypocrite.
4K notes · View notes
chansdoll · 2 months ago
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ현진ㅤㅤ♡ㅤㅤnot just friendsㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
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★ pairing。nonidol!hyunjin x afab!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎g. ╰・  angst , smut‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw。 unprotected sex , oral (f. receiving) , they're in love your honor wc。 4.3k
lana's note!  ᰍᩚ this is kinda like a friends to lovers type thing except it starts late in the situationship phase, idk what this is tbh, i got bored and thought of it
♡ masterlist
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it was a typical friday night, the kind of party everyone in your class had been buzzing about for days. a packed house, music pulsing through the walls, the air thick with alcohol and the sharp bite of too many cheap colognes. you were there, perched on the worn-out couch in the sunroom with your friends, half-listening as they gushed over the guys at the party. the room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from a few tangled strings of fairy lights that flickered unevenly, casting soft shadows across the walls.
you wanted to be here—at least, that’s what you told yourself. you liked the distraction, the way alcohol dulled the edges of emotions you refused to acknowledge. lately, those emotions had been clawing at your chest, threatening to spill over, and drinking was the only thing that kept them at bay. you weren’t about to let yourself feel, not when feeling meant risking getting hurt again.
then, as if on cue, he walked in.
hyunjin.
your heart lurched the second your eyes landed on him, a cruel reminder of something you wanted but could never have. he strolled in effortlessly, his presence commanding attention without even trying, flanked by felix and changbin. his dark eyes swept over the room, taking in the scene, and then—inevitably—they found you.
you didn’t think. you just acted. without hesitation, you tipped your glass back, downing the rest of your drink in one go. the burn of the alcohol was nothing compared to the ache in your chest, the one that only seemed to grow stronger every time he was near. you needed more. more to drink, more distance, more anything to push away the emotions threatening to surface.
hyunjin noticed. of course, he did.
he didn’t say anything right away, but you felt his eyes on you—watching, assessing. he always had this way of looking at you, like he was trying to solve a puzzle only he could see. he could tell something was wrong, that you were struggling, but he didn’t know why.
and you weren’t about to let him find out.
for years, you and hyunjin had been inseparable. what started as a simple friendship—born from long nights studying together, laughing over inside jokes, and supporting each other through the highs and lows of life—evolved into something deeper, something unspoken. he was your safe place, and you were his. but neither of you ever crossed that line, both too scared to risk what you had.
then, everything changed.
a few months ago, you went through a painful breakup, one that left you reeling. you had trusted, loved, and given your heart away—only to have it shattered. the pain made you wary, hesitant to let anyone get too close again. and hyunjin, ever the patient friend, had been there for you through it all. he never pushed, never asked for more than you could give. he just stayed.
but one night, after too many drinks and too many lingering stares, you found yourself in his arms in a way you never had before. it wasn’t just a moment of weakness—it was comfort, desperation, need. what was supposed to be a one-time thing became something neither of you could walk away from. it started with stolen kisses behind closed doors, tangled sheets, and hushed promises of this doesn’t mean anything. but as the weeks passed, something shifted.
the sex turned softer, more intimate. he would press lingering kisses to your temple, trace gentle patterns on your skin afterward. you would wake up in his bed, wrapped in his warmth, and pretend you didn’t crave staying longer. it was dangerous—because the more time you spent wrapped up in hyunjin, the harder it became to deny what was happening between you.
but you had to deny it.
because falling for him meant opening yourself up again. and after what you had been through, you weren’t sure you could survive that kind of heartbreak twice.
so you pushed him away. again. and again.
but hyunjin wasn’t stupid. he saw through every excuse, every attempt to put distance between you. he knew you felt it too—knew you were running from something real. and no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart ached every time you saw him.
and now, as your eyes met his, from across the kitchen, the ache in your chest grew. 
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it didn’t take long for you to get tipsy enough to crave hyunjin’s touch—his warmth, his presence—and he welcomed you with open arms. before you knew it, you were stumbling into a bedroom upstairs, hands everywhere, lips colliding in desperate, messy kisses.
his fingers dug into your waist, pulling you closer, and you clutched at his shirt, tugging at the fabric until it bunched against his ribs. he broke the kiss just long enough to yank it over his head, tossing it aside before his mouth crashed back to yours—hot and needy.
“you look so good tonight,” he muttered, voice low and breathless against your lips. his hands slid down to your hips, guiding you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed.
you barely remembered falling onto the mattress—all you remembered was the way hyunjin followed, crawling over you with that same hunger burning in his eyes. his lips moved down your neck, biting and kissing and tasting while your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer.
everything blurred—clothes tugged and tossed aside, warm skin pressed against yours. your breaths mingled in the charged air, messy and uneven.
he kissed down your body, his mouth hot and teasing as he moved lower. you gasped when his lips ghosted over your inner thigh, and then you moaned outright when he pressed a lingering kiss to your mound.
“hyun—” you whined, but your words melted into a sharp gasp when his tongue met your clit. he licked you like he was savoring you, dragging his tongue in slow, deliberate circles before closing his lips around your most sensitive spot. a deep groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against you. he was lost in it—lost in you—his hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep you from squirming away.
“fuck—oh my god,” you gasped, clutching at the sheets as the pressure in your core built rapidly. his fingers flexed harder against your skin, his nails digging into your flesh, and your body tensed.
“i’m—shit, i’m cumming,” you cried out, your body shaking violently as the pleasure crashed over you.
he didn’t stop—not right away. he kept licking, sucking, savoring every bit of you until the overstimulation forced you to gently push his head away. even then, he lingered, leaving a messy kiss against your soaked folds before rising to his feet.
his cock was heavy in his boxers, the outline thick and prominent as he hurriedly shoved the fabric down. he crawled over you again, kissing you roughly—hungry, like he needed this, needed you.
“you’re driving me insane,” he rasped against your lips, his hand fumbling to spread your thighs wider. his cock bobbed against your slick entrance, and you reached down, guiding him inside you.
he pushed in slowly, groaning low in his throat as you stretched around him. the feeling was overwhelming—the heat, the weight of him pressed so perfectly against you.
it started fast and frantic—hips grinding together in messy desperation. you clung to him, his skin warm and slick beneath your fingertips, both of you chasing something primal and raw. but somewhere in the haze of it all, something shifted.
his kisses deepened, slowing to something softer, something felt. his fingers laced with yours, pinning your hand beside your head as he rocked into you, deep and deliberate. his forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and shaky against your lips.
“fuck,” he groaned, voice strained like he was holding himself back. his free hand trailed along your waist, down to your thigh, where his fingers dug in just enough to ground you.
it was too much—his body against yours, the way he filled you so perfectly. the way he whispered your name, soft and reverent, like you were something precious.
your heart raced, your breath hitched, and before you could stop it, the pressure in your core unraveled once more. it rushed through you fast and hard, making your body arch beneath him.
“f-fuck,” you choked out, and then—without thinking, without meaning to—you said it.
“i love you.”
the words tumbled from your lips right as you reached your peak, your body trembling beneath him as waves of pleasure rolled through you.
hyunjin stilled for half a second, his hips stuttering before he fully realized what you had said. his breath hitched—and somehow, those three words undid him.
“shit—” his voice broke as he pushed all the way inside you, burying himself deep as his own orgasm tore through him. a string of groans left his lips, shaky and breathless, as he filled you with his release.
you barely registered the warmth spreading inside you—you were too lost in your own head, panic settling in like ice beneath your skin. you clung to him, your breath unsteady, trying to ignore the weight of what had just slipped out.
you couldn’t take it back.
and somehow, that terrified you more than anything.
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the air felt heavier now, thick with something you couldn’t name. neither of you spoke as you pulled your clothes back on—hyunjin grabbing his shirt from the floor while you reached for your dress, still crumpled on the edge of the bed.
he moved slower than usual, his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds like he was trying to find the right words. you knew what was coming—you could feel it.
“you meant it, didn’t you?” his voice was soft but certain.
you froze for a beat, fingers faltering at the zipper of your dress. “what?”
“you know what,” he said, stepping closer. “what you said before.”
you swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“you do,” he insisted, his voice firm now.
“i don’t.” you turned to face him, zipping your dress the rest of the way with a sharp tug. “i was tipsy. we were... caught up in the moment. i don’t even remember half of what i said.”
it wasn’t true—you remembered everything. the way his body felt against yours, the warmth of his breath, the way the words had just spilled out before you could stop them. but admitting that? no chance.
hyunjin scoffed softly, raking a hand through his hair. “sure,” he muttered, his tone dry. “whatever you say.”
“yeah,” you snapped, grabbing your purse from the nightstand. “whatever i say.”
you knew you were being cold, but you couldn’t stop yourself. it was easier to shut him out than to face what had just happened. because if you did—if you let yourself feel it—you knew you’d fall too hard. and after everything you’d been through, that was a risk you couldn’t take.
“are you coming?” you asked, barely sparing him a glance before heading for the door.
hyunjin didn’t answer right away. but when you reached the hallway, you heard his footsteps behind you, following you back to the party like nothing had happened.
only it had. and you knew there was no running from it for long.
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the next day, hyunjin sent you a text:
hey. wanna grab coffee?
you stared at the message for a long time, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. you typed out a few responses—sure, i can’t, i’m sorry—but you deleted them all. nothing felt right.
you felt awful. awful for how you snapped at him, awful for pretending like nothing had happened, and even worse for how scared you were. scared of opening up, scared of hurting him, scared of getting hurt yourself. you couldn’t risk that. not again.
so, for the first time since you and hyunjin had been friends, you turned off your read receipts.
and of course, he noticed.
hyunjin lay on his dorm bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen like he could will a reply out of you. his text still sat unread, no confirmation that you’d seen it. he knew you were acting cold—he wasn’t stupid. ever since that night, you’d been distant, avoiding eye contact, cutting conversations short, disappearing whenever he walked into a room.
he knew you were dealing with things—your breakup had left you guarded, pulling away from everyone who tried to get close. but he thought he was different. he thought he was helping.
the next evening, he found himself wandering to one of the campus cafés—somewhere you both used to go all the time. it was crowded, filled with clusters of students cramming for exams or killing time between classes.
and that’s when he saw you.
you were tucked into the corner by the window, sitting across from some guy hyunjin didn’t recognize. he looked your age, maybe a little older, with an easy smile that made hyunjin’s stomach churn.
he watched from a distance, eyes narrowing as the guy leaned closer, whispering something that made you laugh—actually laugh. the sound made hyunjin’s chest tighten.
his mind raced. maybe this was nothing—just some classmate, someone you bumped into. but the way you smiled... the way you twirled your straw between your fingers, leaning in just a little closer... it felt different.
he told himself it wasn’t a big deal, that you were allowed to spend time with whoever you wanted.
but deep down, it felt like he was losing you.
hyunjin was standing near the counter, waiting for his order. he was dressed casually—sweatpants and a hoodie—but he still managed to stand out.
your heart dropped.
for a second, you just stared. he looked tired, his face drawn in a way that made guilt gnaw at your insides. his phone was in his hand, his thumb flicking over the screen like he was checking for something—checking for you.
when he finally looked up, your eyes locked.
your breath hitched.
his gaze hardened, just slightly, his face unreadable. you knew that look—it was the one he gave when he was hurt but refused to show it.
the guy across from you kept talking, laughing at his own joke, but you couldn’t hear a word of it. hyunjin’s eyes flicked from you to the guy sitting at your table, and something in his expression shifted—a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place.
you dropped your gaze, suddenly unable to hold it. your fingers curled around your drink, knuckles going white from how tightly you gripped it.
“you okay?” the guy asked, finally noticing your sudden silence.
“yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile that felt thin and strained. “i’m fine.”
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the soft glow of the moonlight slipped through the blinds, casting faint shadows across the room. you stared up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the night pressing against your chest. the silence was suffocating, and yet your thoughts wouldn’t let you escape.
tossing onto your side, you tugged the blanket tighter around yourself, the heat from your body offering no comfort. your mind refused to quiet. you couldn’t stop thinking about him — about hyunjin.
it wasn’t supposed to be this way. you weren’t supposed to feel so lost. so fucking confused. you had been fine before, or at least, you thought you were. you hadn’t expected to fall into something like this with him.
you let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding beneath your ribs. you were afraid — of what, exactly, you weren’t even sure. afraid of letting him in, afraid of loving him, afraid of not being good enough to keep him. every time you let yourself get close to him, the fear crept in, and now it had spiraled into this mess of misunderstandings and regrets.
you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shut out the thoughts, but they only grew louder. you had pushed him away. you had hurt him, and now... now you were ruining everything. your friendship with hyunjin, the one thing that had been consistent in your life, was slipping through your fingers. you were scared. so scared of what he might mean to you, what you might mean to him.
the tears came unbidden, hot and fast. you rolled onto your back, unable to control the sobs that wracked your chest. you thought of all the things you should have said to him, of how he looked at you that night, how his warmth had felt like the one thing that made you feel whole.
but you pushed him away. you always pushed people away.
you reached for your phone, desperate for a distraction. maybe scrolling through your gallery would give you something to focus on, anything to get you out of your head.
your thumb swiped through the photos — random things at first. selfies from random nights out, pictures of your friends, screenshots of texts that no longer seemed relevant. then you saw them. the ones with hyunjin.
you paused, your thumb frozen over the screen. your breath caught in your throat as your eyes traced the photos. the first one was a silly selfie the two of you had taken during one of those late-night study sessions. he had made a face, pulling a stupid expression, and you had laughed so hard you almost cried. the memory of his laughter filled your chest, and you let out a shaky sigh.
then there was the one from that night at his place. you remembered it so clearly — your faces so close, your smiles so real. he had kissed you right after that photo, and you had felt a rush of something deep in your chest, something that made your stomach flutter. you had felt seen, wanted.
but you weren’t ready for that.
another swipe.
this time, a picture of the two of you on the couch after a party. your bodies were close, his arm draped over your shoulders. you were looking at each other, and in that look, you saw something more than just friendship. it scared you, that look. you couldn’t handle it. you couldn’t handle him. you had to keep your distance, even if it meant hurting him.
you scrolled further, and the next picture stopped your heart. it was taken the last time the two of you had been alone together. the photo was intimate, suggestive — you both had been fooling around, your faces flushed with desire. it wasn’t a moment of passion, not like you had imagined when you thought about what you two might become. it was a mess of emotions, blurred lines, and you had let it happen. you had let him in, even when you told yourself you never would.
you should have stopped it.
you should have never let yourself fall into this.
you closed your eyes, and suddenly, the weight of everything hit you all at once. your chest tightened, your breathing shallow as you clutched the phone to your chest. you ruined it. you ruined everything.
you were never enough. you were never going to be enough.
the tears started again, harder this time, as the realization crushed you. you had pushed him away, scared of your own feelings, and now you were paying the price. you had been so selfish, so afraid of letting yourself want him.
and now you had lost him.
the quiet of your dorm room seemed to mock you as you sat there, body shaking with sobs. you had pushed him to the point where he probably wouldn’t even look at you the same way anymore. you had destroyed the one thing that had meant something to you, and no matter how much you wanted to fix it, you couldn’t.
you ruined it.
you ruined him.
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the bass thumped through the walls of the campus bar, the low vibrations buzzing against your chest. your friends’ laughter rang out beside you, but you barely heard it — your mind had been clouded all night. the drink in your hand had grown warm, condensation pooling under your fingertips.
you were trying — really trying — to forget. to drown out the memories of hyunjin’s touch, his voice, the way he looked at you before you pushed him away. but no amount of alcohol could drown out what was festering inside you.
and then you saw him.
hyunjin was at the far end of the bar, his elbow braced against the counter, swirling his drink in his hand. his hair was damp — maybe from the rain outside, maybe from sweat — but he still looked too good. his jaw was tight, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. he looked... off.
your stomach flipped. he hadn’t seen you yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time.
"i need some air," you muttered to your friends, barely registering their response as you grabbed your bag and moved quickly toward the exit.
but you weren’t fast enough.
"y/n?"
his voice cut through the noise like a knife.
panic shot through you, your heart racing. you didn’t turn around — couldn’t. you shoved through the crowd, weaving between bodies until you finally stumbled out the front door and into the cold night.
rain poured from the sky, cold droplets clinging to your skin as you rushed down the sidewalk. your breath hitched, your chest tightening. you just needed to get away — far enough that the guilt would stop clawing at you, far enough that hyunjin wouldn’t follow.
but he did.
"y/n!"
his voice rang out behind you, sharp and angry. you heard the fast steps of his shoes slapping against wet pavement.
"stop!"
you didn’t stop — you couldn’t. your pulse thundered in your ears, but suddenly his hand grabbed your arm, jerking you back.
"what the hell is your problem?" his voice was tight, breathless, but unmistakably angry. his hair clung to his forehead, strands dripping with rain. "are you just gonna keep running from me forever?"
"hyunjin, let go," you said weakly, but your voice wavered.
"no." his grip didn’t tighten, but he didn’t let go. "you’ve been avoiding me for days. i texted you, i called you — hell, i’ve been waiting for you to just say something. but instead, i see you here — acting like none of it ever happened. like i don’t even fucking exist."
"i can’t do this," you whispered, voice barely audible over the rain. you pulled your arm from his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself like it could hold you together. "i just... i can’t."
"why?" his voice cracked. "why are you doing this? did i... did i do something wrong?"
you shook your head, swallowing hard. "no. no, it’s not you, i just..." you trailed off, words dying on your tongue.
"then what is it?" hyunjin’s voice rose again, frustration bubbling to the surface. "i know you feel something for me. don’t tell me you don’t — you wouldn’t have said what you said if you didn’t."
your stomach twisted painfully. "i don’t know what you’re talking about."
"bullshit," he snapped. "we are not just friends. we are not just friends, and you fucking know it."
the words hit you like a punch to the chest. your breath faltered, and you took a shaky step back, your shoes splashing in a shallow puddle.
"i didn’t mean to—"
"yes, you did!" his voice broke this time — less sharp, more desperate. "you said you loved me. i heard you. and i know you meant it. so why are you running from me like i’m some kind of mistake?"
your throat tightened painfully. tears blurred your vision, mixing with the rain streaking down your face.
"because i’m scared!" the words burst out of you before you could stop them. your voice cracked, your chest heaving. "i’m scared of getting hurt, i’m scared of losing you — and i’m scared i’ll ruin everything because that’s what i do."
"you’re not going to lose me," he said quietly. his voice was softer now, gentler — but there was still a tremor in it. "i just... i don’t understand why you won’t let me in. why do you think you have to do this alone?"
"because i’ll hurt you!" you choked out. "i’ll mess this up, hyunjin. you deserve someone better — someone who isn’t so... so broken."
"don’t do that." his voice was firm, but not angry — raw, almost pleading. "don’t tell me what i deserve. i know what i want."
he stepped closer, his fingers brushing your wrist again, more tentative this time — like he wasn’t sure you’d let him.
"i want you."
a sob tore from your throat, and before you could stop yourself, you were stepping forward, crashing into him. your hands fisted into the soaked fabric of his jacket, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.
his arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you in tight — like he’d been waiting for you to do this. you didn’t know who kissed who first — all you knew was that his lips were on yours, hard and desperate. the kiss was messy, rain-slicked and breathless, but neither of you seemed to care.
"i’m sorry," you whispered against his mouth, the words spilling out between kisses. "i’m so sorry."
"don’t be," he murmured back, his fingers curling at the nape of your neck, holding you closer. "just... please don’t push me away anymore."
for a moment, you stayed like that — tangled in each other’s arms, the rain washing over you both. whatever tension had been hanging in the air seemed to crack and fall away, replaced by something heavier yet somehow lighter at the same time. and as hyunjin pressed one more lingering kiss to your forehead, you realized something — maybe you’d been wrong. 
maybe love wasn’t about avoiding pain; maybe it was about trusting someone enough to hold your heart, even when you were scared they might break it.
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taglist: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin @tirena1 @geni-627 @bbokvhs @wavetohannie
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lilyinmysoul · 2 months ago
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A Loving Feeling
QZ!Joel x F Reader
WC: 3k
Summary: Joel has a shit day, so he finds you to take his mind off of it.
Warnings: smut, piv, joel lowk uses reader (a little mean!joel bc of this), oral (m receiving), joel jorking it, dom!joel, yk what, sleazy joel too
Note: Another request fic, I wanted to finish this asap because I have too much studying to do, but half of this thing got deleted when I forgot to save, so I rewrote it aaanddd sorry if the second half looks rushed to you. It was. But I hope you at least somewhat enjoy it either way. If you do please reblog and send more requests mwahaha
The blood pumping in Joel’s ears aligned with the heavy vibration of his heart as it thumped against his chest. His footsteps were heavy as he ran, and when his feet would hit the ground, they were loud.
The mud was slick, and he did what he could not to fall. It would have helped to slow down, but he could not. The sky was getting too dark. There were muffled voices of FEDRA officers in the distance. He could hear the fuzzy sound of their radios as they updated each other on the unidentified smuggler running for his life through bushes and tunnels, ducking under pipes and hopping over cars. There were too many, and they were too close. He was in good shape, but it was in moments like these that he thought to himself, ‘I’m getting too old for this’.
The air was damp on his skin, the cool moisture mixed with the sweat on his face to overwhelm him further. He only knew that he couldn’t get caught. He needed to run, make it back to the tunnel, back home to his apartment. His mind couldn’t help but wander to all of the luxuries he always failed to appreciate until he wound up in the middle of nowhere, running like hell.
But, this wasn’t nowhere. No, he knew where he was, and there wasn’t much longer to go until he would duck soundlessly into a tunnel that led him back to the QZ, where he was free to go with time to spare before curfew. He could catch a shower, treat himself. He could smoke one of the cigarettes he had set aside for trading. He could surely use a fuck.
But now, he is panting even harder, his lungs starting to burn. It won’t be very long now, and the sounds of officers are fading into the rushing wind and the rustling of trees. The air is hitting his face almost violently, and his cheeks are surely redder than ever.
Joel’s speed has hindered by the time he dips behind a clearing and down a small hill, revealing to him the tunnel door, framed by leaves and vines. Breath heaving, his hot hand engulfs the cold metal knob and turns.
The air in the hallway is warm, stuffy, and moist. Despite having been through dozens of times, Joel still secures his mask over his face—the debris in the air looks like spores. He can’t be too sure.
His breath is still heavy as he walks, his lungs prickling as he holds back a cough. He tells himself that he won’t be doing any more late runs for a while.
When he steps, the sound reverberates off of the cracked concrete walls, and the hall seems to be empty, desolate. He doesn’t even hear the vicious groan of a runner—he is alone.
It feels like hours; the time it takes for Joel to pass through, from the empty and unfinished concrete halls and through fungus-coated rooms. He travels down the lift, emerges from behind the bookshelf and traipses tiredly through a final hallway, his breath steady now as he pulls off his mask, his muddy shoes leaving prints on the old tile of the building, and—oh, God, does the air feel good on his skin once he pushes open the double doors. The streets of the QZ are nothing particularly special, pleasant, or clean, but they are open. He’s breathing fresh air again, and he is safe.
Joel takes his time as he returns to his flat, and he doesn’t talk to anyone. His backpack is heavy and he is about ready to shrug it off, first chance he gets.
The streets are less busy in the evening, but people are still outside. Some smoke on street corners, others converse or clean. The occasional FEDRA officer will stroll along, shooting glances of distrust at inhabitants—Joel pays them no mind. His focus is on his home, what waits for him; not much, admittedly, but he will make do.
When he gets there, when he slides his key in the lock and closes the door behind him, he lets out a sigh of relief. His backpack is off first, then his shoes and socks. His sweat-stained flannel is peeled off of his damp skin next, and he unhooks his belt.
His first instinct is to chug a glass of water—so he does—and his second is to start running the shower. Joel enters the bathroom, his feet stepping onto the cold and battered linoleum. His clammy hand wraps around the old glass knob, and turns. The stream begins to pour, and he will soon find out if cold water is all he has in store today. It is rare that he can run a hot shower, for there are no new water heaters in an apocalypse. And his—along with that of virtually every other building—is a piece of shit.
Joel does not hesitate to shed his clothes. He pulls his dingy and faded white T-shirt over his head and tosses it carelessly on the floor. Next, he pops the button and pulls down the zipper of his jeans, dirt stained from the shin down. He has too much laundry to do. He’ll figure it out some other time.
Tugging down his boxers, he is finally bare. He runs a hand through his messy hair as he glances into the mirror at his appearance. He is disheveled and tired—more so than usual, his beard more overgrown and the lines on his forehead more prominent. Joel certainly feels older. He finds himself increasingly exhausted and his bones a bit more fragile, but his body is still defined by hours and days of labor—lifting, running, killing. He examines his abdomen, littered with scars and defined by a tough and tight pad of muscle. It’s no six pack, but he’s tough. From his belly button trails a line of hair that leads between his legs, a mess of curly strands that nobody has time to upkeep anymore. He runs a hand over his face and steps into the shower.
The water is cold—go figure—but, he’s just glad to have it at all. He needs to get clean after all this time; feel the sweat, grime, and dirt fade and wash away from his skin.
He submerges his head under the steady stream of water, rinsing away the filth. Joel has gotten used to the crisp and tingling feeling of cold water over time, and it has become a welcomed sensation. He’s had to learn to live with it, and it’s not too bad.
Joel scrubs at his skin with what’s left of his soap bar, dragging it along his arms, and then his legs. Suds form on his body—a sight he hadn’t seen in too long—and they wash away, gone as quickly as they’d come.
Soon enough, he was clean. He splashes his face with water, his hair fresh and dripping, his limbs cleaned with soap. He stands under the water a moment, and with either boredom or frustration—probably, a mix of both—his hand wanders down and takes hold of his cock. He sloppily circles a thumb over its tip and a finger down its base. For effect, his free hand splays over his abdomen and then moves down to cup his balls; and soon enough, he’s hard.
The water still beats down on his head as he gazes down at himself, the water working as slick as he strokes himself between two fingers.
Initially, his mind is empty, only registering the feeling of his movements and the stream of water on his shoulders. He lets himself relax, untensing his body. He feels a sore muscle in his arm twitch as he moves it up and down himself. Up and down… he feels, now, more pent up than anything. This isn’t enough.
Joel’s thoughts wander to you, and he wonders if you’re still awake. You surely are; it’s no later than eight. He thinks for a moment, contemplating. He debates whether it would be worth it, leaving his place and the comfort of his shower to seek you out at this hour. His hand is still stroking his cock.
Joel is pent up, and although he’s rather comfortable where he is, there isn’t anything he wants more now—after the day he’s had—than to fuck. The magazine in his top drawer certainly wouldn’t cut it. Both begrudgingly and eagerly—somehow at the same time—Joel shuts off the water.
With a towel from the floor, certainly unwashed, Joel dries off his body. He rubs his wet hair with the material, leaving it a damp and tousled sea of brown and grey. As he pats off whatever moisture from his skin that he can, he lets the towel fall to the floor before approaching his dresser.
He slides out the drawer, picking at random a T-shirt, pair of boxers, and some plaid pajama pants. One by one, he dresses in the faint light of his living room.
He steps into the boxers, pulling them up and hissing when he tucks his still-hard length into them. He is throbbing a little now, but he does his best to ignore it as he pulls his pants on over them. His T-shirt is last, and he hastily pulls on a pair of socks and slips on his shoes.
He scoops up his keys, and he’s gone. He clicks off the light behind him, locks the door, and sets off down the hallway. His feet tap dully on the carpet floors as he passes door after door—none of which were yours.
To get to your apartment, he’d need to take the stairs.
The stairwell air is stale and dusty, as always. He breathes in deeply anyway when he pushes open the door and begins his ascent up the steps. His legs are tired from his lack of sleep and their increase in activity, but he doesn’t pause. He counts one, two, three flights until he reaches your level, forcing the heavy door open and starting down your hallway.
He’s got it down, he knows where your flat is; but he still glances at the other room numbers, counting down to yours.
912, 913… 914.
Joel’s hollow fist raps on your door. The sound is firm, but not too loud. He doesn’t want to draw any attention, he wants you. ‘Get in, get out’, he tells himself.
He suspects you don’t hear him at first, so he raises his hand to knock again when you peep through the hole and open the door. You both look at each other for a moment; you’re wordless and run a hand through your hair.
“Hey.” You finally speak.
Joel doesn’t answer, stepping inside and kicking off his shoes. He closes the door behind him, turning the lock and glancing at your form as you lean back against the wall. He looks tired and restless at the same time, and it’s abundantly clear why he’s here. The two of you really only ever meet for one reason—which is fine by you—you just wish he’d stay a little longer.
“Hard day?” you ask.
A dry chuckle from Joel as he begins to remove his pants. He looks nice in the dim old lamp light. “Somethin’ like that.”
He approaches you as you rest against the cool wall, effectively trapping you against it and resting a hand on your hip. It rests there as his mouth assumes its position on your neck, kissing restlessly and eagerly.
“Tell me about it.” you insist.
“Got better things to do…” he replies, his lips moving rather fervently, and he assumes that you can feel his still-hard bulge against your front. It matters not. Joel’s hand rubs up and down your side before shifting its attention to your breast, kneading rather eagerly.
“But if you must know…” another kiss. “Got chased by a bunch’a FEDRA assholes. Got a good five miles of straight sprintin’.”
He doesn’t expect any kind of answer, and instead traps your lips against his. Joel’s mouth tastes vaguely like liquor, a tang that only strengthens when he pushes his tongue into your mouth. He seems to have so much energy and none at all, and clearly expects you to fix it.
His hand leaves your chest and finds yours, guiding it to the front of his dented boxers. “Feel that?” His question is rhetorical, and he follows up with, “And you know I’ve had a shitty day. Don’t have much time for this.”
With that, his attempts at working you up or growing the tension are gone. His hands find the button to your pants, and when he pops it open, you assist him, pushing down the fabric of your jeans and taking your underwear down next. Joel pulls on the plush fabric, hitching one of your legs over his hip and leading the panties down your legs and slyly tucking them into his back pocket. 
Once it’s all gone, your lower half is exposed and your core is glistening—it’s almost shameful, the things he does to you. You wrap an arm around him, pulling him close as he yanks on the waistband of his boxers, his red and ready cock springing against his clothed stomach and looking at you temptingly.
Joel doesn’t seem to have the restraint or the will to wait much longer, notching himself against you. A heavy breath escapes his lips and a hum from yours, as he gives your center a few slaps. It’s a nice feeling, but it isn’t enough—and he seems to realize that, too. When he rubs his cock against you a few more times, slickening himself between your thighs and he lets the tip rest right at your entrance, ready to plunge right in; and when your back arches slightly and your hips push forward with the contact, he finds his hips slowly pushing inward, and his eyes fall downward to watch as he disappears inside of you.
“Goddamn…” Joel mutters as his hips continue their movements. His movements are slow, but not measured. They aren’t controlled—he seems to lose himself in the feeling.
“Yeah…” he continues, one hand splayed upon your lower back and the other fastening your leg to his hip. His movements hasten, the feeling seeming to overwhelm his senses. He rests his chin on your head. “S’good. Real good, you lettin’ me have you whenever I need to.”
You don’t have an answer, or any kind of counter, it’s simply the truth. Even so, you wouldn’t be able to articulate a retort, anyway. The most you can offer is a pleasured hiss from between your teeth.
To accommodate the rising speed of his thrusts, he moves both hands to your hips. It’s up to you to keep your leg in place, and you do. Joel is concerned now only with his own pleasure, watching his cock appear and disappear into the warm, wet cavity between your thighs. The sensation is strong and tingling, splitting at the same time. Some kind of squeaking sound leaves the back of your throat and Joel chuckles gruffly, either at your noise or your disheveled appearance, your body rocking against the wall as he fucks you.
You hear a deep groan from Joel, the movements of his hips slightly more erratic, and his mumblings more frequent and audible. “Fuck…”
His quick and desperate thrusts slow to a stop when his muscles get too tight and he gets too close. He couldn’t cum in your pussy—it was absolutely off the table—but he liked your mouth. Anywhere was fine, but today, he needed it.
Joel slowly pulls out his cock, slowly retracting himself, his length wet with you and still very much hard.
“Knees?” Joel’s question is less of an ask than it is a command. He knows you’ll do it, and he is right, like always. Soon enough, his back is the one against the wall, and you’ve ducked down onto your knees in front of him. The hard wooden floor is a bit painful under them, but you don’t mind.
Like they often do, your eyes admire him, your eyes level with his red and leaking tip, a hand wrapping firmly around it as you look up at him.
His eyes are intense; eager and expectant like usual, and he can’t decipher whether you are gawking at or scrutinizing him, but either way, it’s taking too long. His big palm covers the back of your head, nudging your mouth closer to him before it encloses around his tip. He hisses when he feels the sweet contact of your lips, pushing still on the back of your head and shoving more of himself down your throat.
What you can’t take, you stroke with your hands, your excess saliva functioning as lubricant, the occasional drop dripping on the floor. Joel’s hand is still pushing at your head, fingers laced into your hair and it has taken an extraordinary amount of restraint not to gag.
“Oh, shit…” Joel’s grunts and groans only get louder, and you’re convinced that he only has the balls to make such sounds because he’s in your apartment, and it’ll be your neighbors who complain about his filthy noises. His fingers tense and his hand presses harder, his eyes gazing down at you as your mouth takes him resiliently.
“Fuck… ‘m close…” Joel grumbles. “Gonna cum so deep, y’wont even gotta swallow. Ah…”
And Joel does keep his promise—although not really a promise—when his hips rut one last time into your face before the spring inside him snaps, his balls emptying themselves into your throat, with only the slightest salty taste left in your mouth as he pulls out. With a few deep breaths and a tap of his softening cock on your lips, he tucks himself back into his boxers and stands from the wall.
You stand, too, and you both slide back on your clothes. As soon as his pants are back on, his shoes are, too, and the door is closed behind him.
You sigh and for a few moments, your eyes linger on the door before wandering back to your forgotten book on the table.
Thinking of adding a taglist, if you want on, let me know!
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inkedinshadows · 6 months ago
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Bound by Secrets
Pairing: Azriel x Beron’s daughter!reader
Summary: When you get caught sneaking around the Hewn City, you end up in one of the dungeon cells to be interrogated by the infamous Spymaster. But things don't go exactly the way the General and the High Lord thought.
Warnings: mentions of sex, allusions to torture and scars
Word count: 6.4k
A/N: Okay sooo, I got a bit carried away with the first part and it came out longer than anticipated, with Az coming in at around word 1.7k. I know it’s a lot without him since it's his appreciation week, but the build-up is worth it (hopefully) and seeing how long the whole fic turned out to be, I hope you don't mind too much. There's still a lot of Azriel, I swear! (and I might have gone a little bit off-topic but shh it's fine). Anyway, happy @azrielappreciationweek everyone!
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You knew being here was dangerous.
The Hewn City was not a place you could simply sneak into, and yet here you were, lurking in a corner of the throne room, waiting for the right moment to slip out and search for the treasury.
You had been sent there with a mission: find the Veritas Orb. How your father knew where it was, or what he needed it for, was not information you had been made privy to. But the High Lord of the Autumn Court had been clear: you were to steal the Orb as soon as possible. Knowing the kind of punishment he dealt when disappointed, you always did your best to comply. That left you with little time to prepare and, apparently, a huge number of problems.
Because just as you were about to make an unseen exit through the hallway you had previously selected, every single person in the crowd stiffened, and the chattering stopped abruptly, plunging the room into a silence so deep you could hear a pin drop.
As you turned to see what had happened, you realized everyone was staring at the entrance doors, just as they swung open. One look at the two tall figures slowly stalking in, and you knew you needed to get out before it was too late.
You blended into the shadows against the wall as the Spymaster and the General of the Army made their way to the dais on the other side of the hall. A smudge of red and gold was all you caught out of the corner of your eye when the Morrigan entered, just as you bolted down the hallway.
The High Lord and High Lady would be next. And if they caught you not only in their Court, but in their underground city as well, you'd be in serious trouble. You couldn't risk it. You needed to get out.
Yet you couldn't leave. Not without the Orb. Fear seized you for a split second at the mere thought of the pain you would suffer at your father's hands if you were to fail, and then you broke into a sprint—or as close to a sprint as you could manage with the high heels you had worn to blend in with the Hewn City inhabitants.
A thrum of power reached you despite the distance you had already put between yourself and the throne room, a clear sign of the High Lord and Lady’s arrival. You needed to hurry.
“Damn heels,” you muttered under your breath. You stopped long enough to take them off, gather them in your hands, and resume your run. At least your night-black dress was loose enough around the legs to allow you to move freely.
You had no idea where the treasury was. Your father didn't know, merely telling you the Orb was likely kept there—as if that helped. But you wouldn't consider where else it could be, instead choosing to focus on one thing at a time.
You wandered through the hallways, peering into every room you could find. Most of them were studies, sitting rooms, or smaller chambers for holding court. None of them what you were looking for.
Pushing a heavy wooden door open, you discovered a staircase that spiraled down. The basement. Or dungeons, you guessed, summoning a flame in your hand to light the steps as you began the descent. It made sense for the treasury to be on a lower level—harder to reach and easier to hide. That was where your father kept his most treasured possessions as well.
With a smirk, you placed your palm on the knob and summoned more of your power. Your hand became a bright shade of orange, and a thin circle of fire spread from it, growing over the surface of the doors until it burned the spell protecting them. A little trick your oldest brother had taught you years ago.
The stairs ended in a long hallway with many other tunnels branching off. You chose one out of instinct and kept going like that for a while, trying to remember every turn you took. The place was like a maze and there was nothing to help you distinguish the different paths. But eventually, your seemingly random choices paid off, and you found yourself in front of large, unguarded double doors. Upon closer inspection, you realized they were warded, hence the lack of actual guards.
Pulling your hand away, it returned to its normal color as you shoved the door open and walked inside.
Piles of gold lined the walls, jewels and weapons displayed in glass cabinets, and everywhere you turned, something shiny caught your eye. You delved deeper into the room, discovering beautiful pieces of artwork scattered around, but you couldn’t let them distract you from your task. You began searching the place instead, opening boxes and trunks, anything you could find, but there were no signs of the Veritas. The more you looked, the clearer it became.
The Orb wasn't there.
A frustrated sigh escaped you, and you stifled a groan as you made your way back to the tunnels, picking up the heels you had left by the door.
There had to be another room where more treasure was kept. You just had to find it. You were so sure it would be somewhere nearby that you made a stupid mistake: you didn’t count your turns, didn’t memorize when and where you had gone left or right or straight.
Maybe you should have asked for help before coming here. You had considered it, but you didn't want to endanger more people than necessary—or, even worse, have the truth discovered—and you honestly had thought you could do this alone.
You were wrong, and now you were lost. Like a damn fool.
Too caught up in your worries and rising anxiety, you did not hear the approaching steps. As you turned around the corner, you bumped into a tall, muscular body. A strong hand gripped your arm to keep you from losing balance, and the flame still flickering around your hand went out.
Now only the low gloom of the torches several feet down the tunnel illuminated the darkness.
“There you are.”
You didn’t recognize that deep, almost rough voice, but your heart jumped in your throat at sight of the leathery wings and the black scaled armor adorned with seven crimson Siphons.
You already knew who you were facing when you looked up and met the wary gaze of the General of the Night Court armies, his face half-hidden in the dark.
“There I am?” you repeated, putting on a sweet smile that didn’t reflect your internal turmoil. “Were you looking for me, General?”
His eyes narrowed as he took in your bare feet and the heels you still held in your hand. “What are you doing down here?”
You couldn’t tell if he meant down here in the Hewn City or in the tunnels below the palace. What if he knew the truth? What if he knew who you were? It could have given you a way out, it could have—
But Cassian’s grip on your arm tightened at your silence. “Answer me,” he growled. “We know someone broke into the treasury. And I know it was you.”
You shivered at his tone, at the fear that began to settle inside you, knowing you had been caught. As you tried to find a way out, you heard the words coming out of your mouth as if they were someone else’s: feigned shock at the news, deep confusion at the accusation, refined politeness when you addressed him. Hopefully, it was enough to let you off the hook.
“Why, if I may ask, would you think that was me, General?”
He didn’t seem impressed by your display of innocence. “There are very few redheads in the Hewn City, and none with fire powers. You’re from Autumn.”
Well, shit. You were so used to seeing red-haired Fae in the Autumn Court that you hadn't considered how recognizable your hair—or your powers, for that matter—could be outside of your home.
“I…”
You didn’t know what to say. You had red hair. You were suspiciously wandering in the tunnels. You had broken into the treasury using your fire. How could you find an excuse for all of that?
Your hesitation was confirmation enough for the General. His grip on your arm became almost painful. “Who are you? What were you looking for in the treasury?”
Maybe telling him the truth would help. If you revealed that you were in the Hewn City because you had no other choice, that you were not only Beron’s secret daughter but also his spy, his undercover agent, would he believe you? And if he did, would that make things better or worse for you?
Again, you thought about it for too long.
Cassian’s eyes narrowed even more. “You’re coming with me,” he ordered, nudging you along. “And you will talk, one way or another.”
You didn’t like where this was going. You didn’t like it one bit.
You could burn him, you supposed. Use your fire on him to create a distraction and run away. But you knew what kind of pain it caused, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt someone that way, not even him. And even if you did, where could you run? You didn’t know the place, didn't know where the hallways led or where the hiding spots were. But Cassian did. You wouldn’t get far before he found you.
You let the General lead you even deeper into the dungeons, following him without a struggle, even as the cold air bit at your skin and your gut churned in fear.
After a few minutes, you were escorted inside a small cell. There was nothing but a wooden chair in the middle of the space, right next to a grate on the floor from which hisses and growls rose up. You decided you didn’t want to know what was on the other side.
Cassian took your shoes, placing them next to the door as he gestured for you to sit. You obeyed silently and took a seat, waiting for the handcuffs, for the restraint, for the questions to start.
None of it came.
You just sat there, the General watching you intently from his spot against the wall, his stance relaxed yet alert in case you tried something. He said not a word.
You weren’t sure how much time passed before the door opened again and another male walked in. He was Illyrian too, a sword similar to Cassian’s was strapped to his back, and he wore the same armor. But his Siphons were a shade of cobalt blue, his black hair cut short, and he was surrounded by swirling shadows.
Your breath caught at the sight of the Spymaster.
Azriel’s eyes widened ever so slightly as they settled on you, his shadows frozen around his shoulders. He stood there, wings tucked tightly in, staring at you as if he could see right through your façade.
“Where is Rhys?”
The Spymaster didn’t tear his gaze away from you even as he answered. “He couldn’t leave.” His voice, cold as ice, sent a shiver down your spine. “This is the intruder?”
You held your head up high, reigning in your emotions. You wouldn’t let him intimidate you. You refused to. No matter the stories you had heard about the feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court, you wouldn’t cower. Not before him. You had suffered enough at the hands of your father to know how to deal with fear and pain.
“I found her wandering in the tunnels,” Cassian answered. “Not far from the treasury, hand wreathed in flames. She refused to say anything.”
The Spymaster assessed you, hazel eyes scanning you from head to toe. “Well, that’s about to change.” His hand lingered dangerously close to the black-hilted knife strapped to his muscular thigh.
Your brother's words echoed in your mind. “Tell him what he wants to hear.” “If you fight him, you'll only make it worse.” “Think of something nice, hold on to it, and it'll be over soon enough.” “Behave like the pliant little female he expects you to be.”
If Eris's precious advice had always worked with your father and his particular inclination for painful punishments, then maybe it would work now as well.
Azriel's gaze didn't falter as he stalked toward you, the dagger now clutched in his scarred fingers. You could have sworn his hand trembled for just a split second as he unsheathed it, but you were already looking down at your bare feet, letting your shoulders slump forward and your stiff back relax into a more submissive position.
A pair of black boots stopped right in front of you. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands holding the armrests so tightly that your knuckles went white. The scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled your nose as cold metal pressed just under your chin, urging you to lift your head.
You didn't fight it, meeting a pair of honeyed eyes that stared at you coolly. So close, you could see the tiny speck of green in them, even with his dilated pupils.
Cauldron, this male was beautiful. Painfully so. Bigger issues begged for your attention, but you couldn't help but admire him—the sharp features of his face, the perfect lines of his jaw, the plush lips, the way a few black curls hung over his forehead.
You didn't dare shift your position, but the urge to clench your thighs was almost overwhelming. The most inappropriate time ever.
Azriel seemed to somehow sense it, because his nostrils flared and the tip of the knife pressed a bit more under your chin, though still not enough to draw blood.
“What are you doing here?”
That voice, like silk and shadows and ice. Now you could understand why everyone feared the Shadowsinger of the Night Court.
“Why were you in the treasury?” he pressed, more demanding than before.
When you didn't answer his questions, he removed the dagger and took a step back. You glanced at the General, still standing by the door, but your focus quickly returned to the Spymaster, who had begun to circle around your chair.
Like a beast about to strike, toying with its prey before the killing blow.
“You know, this would be easier if you talked willingly.”
Shadows wrapped around both your ankles and wrists to prevent any possible movement. He was behind you now, his dagger trailing down your arm, sending all your senses on high alert.
“Or I'll have to resort to more… unpleasant methods.”
Your bindings tightened as if to prove his point and a small gasp escaped your lips. You had to say something, come up with some kind of excuse before it was too late.
“Tell him what he wants to hear.”
What did he want to hear? You couldn't very well give up the truth, could you? But maybe if you did, maybe if you tried…
Your eyes shot to the General. He was studying you with his arms crossed, nothing but distaste etched on his features.
Azriel, now on your left, noticed the direction of your gaze. He watched the other Illyrian for a few heartbeats before speaking in that low, quiet voice of his. “You know I work better when I'm alone.”
You stilled at the words. You, alone in a dungeon cell with the Spymaster? This changed everything—reshuffling all the cards, altering the odds of how this interrogation might end.
Cassian blinked, turning to face him. The two males stared at each other for what felt like ages, a silent conversation passing between them. Eventually, the General sighed.
“Fine,” he grumbled, fingers raking through his dark hair. “But alert Rhys immediately if something happens.”
The Shadowsinger seemed to hold back a scoff. “I know what I'm doing, Cassian,” he replied coolly. “I always get the information I want.”
You swallowed harshly, but Cassian gave a sharp nod and sauntered out of the cell.
As soon as the door closed behind him and his footsteps faded down the hallways, Azriel crouched in front of you, the dagger sheathed at his thigh once more. The shadows restraining you vanished.
“What the hell are you doing here, my love?”
~~~~~~
You and Azriel had met four years prior.
When you were born—the youngest and only female in a clutch of seven brothers—your father decided to keep you in the shadows. He never publicly acknowledged having a daughter, believing that no one would suspect a girl, thus raising you to serve as his undercover agent. Only your family knew of your existence, and if you hadn't gone mad over the years of confinement, it was only thanks to your sweet mother and Eris.
Beron had spent almost a century training you, molding you into his perfect little spy, and then sent you out into the world for just as long to do exactly what he had taught you.
You were attending a ball in the Day Court the first time you saw Azriel. You had already gathered the intel your father wanted about the honored guests from the Dawn Court, but you had no intention of going home earlier than scheduled. You still had until morning. And when the most beautiful male you had ever seen walked into the room as part of the Night Court delegation, you knew exactly how you wanted to spend your remaining time.
You watched him, taking in his muscular body, the massive wings, and the swirling shadows, until his eyes finally found yours through the crowd. You offered him a gentle yet unwavering smile, and your core clenched at the way he studied you as you approached him. Like he was already imagining pinning you beneath him.
It didn't take long for him to do just that. Within minutes, you found yourself in the room he was staying in, your dress discarded on the floor and his head between your thighs.
You had never felt so good as you did in those few hours.
It was almost dawn by the time you were both spent and sweaty, but you fought against exhaustion. You waited for Azriel to fall asleep, and then you slipped out of the room.
He woke up to an empty bed.
The next time you met him was a few months later. The High Lords and High Lady were all meeting in the Winter Court to discuss Prythian’s situation after the war with Hybern, but your father was paranoid. He ordered you to ensure the other courts weren’t plotting a coup against him.
You had just sneaked out of the suite reserved for the High Lord of the Summer Court and his entourage when shadows pooled at your feet, and your back was slammed against the wall. The air was snatched from your lungs at the impact, leaving you little time to take another breath before a dark dagger pressed against your throat.
Despite having spent just one night together, you immediately recognized your assailant by his scent alone.
“Didn't know you were into this kind of thing,” you drawled, looking up to meet Azriel's gaze. “Kinky. I like it.”
His eyes widened slightly as recognition dawned on him, the blade moving an inch away from your neck but no more. “It's you.”
You knew you should be bothered by the dagger, that this was a powerful male not to be trifled with, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you could still remember how his lips tasted and how good he felt inside you.
“Strange way to meet again, uh?”
Azriel didn't return your smirk, nor did he step away. Instead, his voice was cold as death now that his surprise had faded. “Why are you sneaking into the suites?”
You had mastered the art of weaving lies so long ago that the answer flowed effortlessly from your lips. 
“Cresseida was wearing a beautiful necklace at lunch,” you replied with a shrug. “I wanted to see if she left it in her room.”
His eyes narrowed. “So, you're a petty thief?”
Better than the truth, you thought, though a small part of you longed to confide in him, to tell him everything. A deep, innate feeling of trust had somehow bloomed in your chest. You ignored it.
“I'm a simple girl.” You offered him your most charming smile. “I see a shining jewel, and I want it for myself.”
Azriel hummed, knife still at your throat. His eyes scanned your face and you felt like he could see everything you were trying to conceal, all the secrets you'd kept locked away for years.
“You went through the suites of every Court except Autumn,” he mused, the tip of the blade tracing your jaw. You went utterly still. “Why?”
You didn't know how to answer. You didn't even know how he knew that. You'd been caught red-handed, and you had a feeling that any new lie you concocted would be pointless. So you decided to trust your gut.
“Alright.” You took a deep breath—or as deep as you dared with a sharp dagger pressed against your neck. “I work for Beron. He thinks someone might stage a coup, so he sent me to gather information.”
His eyes, which had been roaming over your features and perhaps lingered a second too long on your lips—though that could just be your imagination—snapped up to meet yours. The blade pressed a fraction harder against your skin, a clear sign of his distrust.
“For Beron?” he repeated. Not a hint of surprise or disdain marked his tone, just that icy coldness, so different from the warm voice he'd used to talk you through it in the Summer Court. “And he fears a coup?”
You wanted to sigh but didn't dare. If only he would sheath that damn dagger…
“Yes, that's what I said. And honestly, if someone does, I'm not surprised. I hope it works out for them.”
Azriel's brow arched.
“I mean, the male's horrible. He deserves it.”
You were aware of the dangerous line you were crossing, speaking of your father—your High Lord—like that to an important member of a rival court. You'd never voiced those thoughts aloud to anyone but Eris, and yet here you were. Beron would punish you if he found out. You were first his subject, then his spy, and only then his daughter.
A scarred hand cupped your jaw, Azriel's face now only inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath on your cheeks. “Why do you work for him, then?” he snarled.
His grip on your chin made it impossible to look away, forcing you to meet his golden eyes. In that moment, you let him see your truth, the honesty and vulnerability you never revealed.
“Because I don't have a choice.”
A heartbeat passed, and then his expression softened. You stilled as his hand moved from your jaw to your cheek.
You had seen his scars months ago and immediately recognized what had caused them. Cauldron knew you always kept yours hidden with a glamor, allowing it to dissipate only in the privacy of your bedroom.
Thinking about all your father had put you through made the reality of the situation slam into you. What if Azriel told your father what you had just said? The Night Court and the Autumn Court were not on good terms, but who knew what political machinations were at play behind closed doors. Beron would consider your words a betrayal and punish you accordingly.
Your worry must have shown on your face because Azriel's thumb brushed over your cheekbone, gentle and reassuring. “Your secret's safe with me,” he said softly. He studied you for a moment, and whatever he saw in your expression seemed to convince him to finally put his dagger back into its scabbard at his thigh.
You took a deep, shaky breath, unsure whether it stemmed from believing him or simply from relief at no longer being threatened.
Now free, his fingers brushed over your throat where his blade had been. There probably was a thin pink line there. His featherlight touch sent shivers down your spine.
“I'm sorry,” he murmured.
Your voice was barely a whisper. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
You stared at each other, time seeming to slow down. His shadows peeked from behind his broad shoulders, a few tendrils swirling forward and weaving through your red locks, but your gaze locked on his, your heartbeat quickening. His other hand still cradled your cheek.
“I'm sorry,” you murmured.
“What for?”
‘For lying to you.’
‘For sneaking into your Court’s suite.’
‘Because I can't tell you the whole truth.’
So many easy replies, and all of them true. But one in particular pushed at the corner of your mind, one you hadn't been able to shake for months.
“For walking away right after you fell asleep.”
Something flashed in his eyes, there and gone in an instant, but you didn't recognize what it was. You didn't know him well enough to read every subtle change in his expression. Part of you wished you could.
You waited for him to say something—either to tell you he didn't care or that it wasn't a big deal—but as his silence stretched on, you debated whether you should change the subject or perhaps apologize for bringing it up.
Just as you opened your mouth, Azriel spoke again, but his words were not what you had expected.
“I looked for you the day after,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “But you were gone.”
You couldn't help but stare, so caught off guard that you were completely speechless. You had thought about him often since that night, but you never imagined he might have looked for you in the morning. You were torn between feeling even worse about leaving him and the rapid beat of your heart.
A grin curled your lips as you rested your hands on his chest. Even with his armor on, you could recall the lines of the tattoos swirling across his golden skin, a sliver of black ink peeking from his collar. “I was that good?” you teased.
Azriel chuckled under his breath, the sound like a song to your ears. “You were that good.” He leaned in, his mouth brushing against your ear, teeth grazing your earlobe. “You felt that good wrapped around me.”
Your breath hitched at his words, and you could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh, igniting a desire that made you want to moan.
“Do you want to do it again?”
He barely gave you time to finish that sentence before his lips claimed yours, eliciting a surprised whimper. Your fingers tangled in his curls, his hands cupped your face, and there was nothing sweet or gentle about the kiss as his body pressed yours against the wall and you began to grind on him.
You parted only to catch your breath, but Azriel was already nipping at your neck, and you tilted your head to grant him more access.
When distant footsteps echoed from a nearby hallway, he didn’t even pull away as shadows wrapped around you both. In an instant, they winnowed you into a bedroom you didn't bother to register, too busy pushing Azriel on the large bed and climbing on top of him.
After that time, you began to plan your meetings. It was often a real challenge to find a moment when both of you could slip away from your duties without raising suspicions, but you couldn't risk your families discovering that you were regularly sleeping with a spy from a rival court.
Then, somewhere along the way, it happened. Sex slowly transformed into making love as you both developed feelings for one another, and around one year later, the mating bond snapped into place. You wanted to accept it, but you couldn't shake the dark cloud looming over your head. It was then that you decided to tell Azriel the truth about who you were, who your father was. He was gone for twenty days after your revelation, and you were left wondering whether it was because you had kept it hidden from him for so long or if he truly had a tight schedule and couldn't make time for a secret rendezvous. But when he finally returned, he assured you that whoever your father was wouldn't change or diminish his love for you. That very night, you offered him food, relief washing over you like a balm.
~~~~~~
And here you were, three years and countless secret meetings later.
“What are you doing here?” Azriel repeated, his voice carrying the usual softness he used when speaking to you, but with an edge of nervousness and impatience.
“My father sent me to retrieve the Veritas Orb,” you explained with a sigh. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to have to lie to your family even more. And… I thought I could do this alone.”
Azriel fell silent, his back stiff, his posture rigid. The shadows had retreated behind his wings. Finally, he asked, “What does he need it for?”
You gave him an apologetic look. “He didn't bother to share that information.”
He nodded, as if he had expected that answer. Rising to his feet, he offered you a hand to help you up from your seat. You took it, his skin cold against your palm, and stood with a frown.
“What do we do now?” you whispered, anxious despite Cassian’s absence. “I didn't mean to bring you into this mess, love.”
Azriel let go of your hand to cup your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Don't apologize. I know he didn't give you a choice.” He pressed his soft lips to your forehead. “But I can't let you walk out, angel. We need some excuse.”
Right, because letting you leave unscathed and without any information would only get him in trouble with his High Lord. But leaving without the Orb would get you in trouble. And yet, you would rather endure whatever punishment your father would concoct than let your mate deal with the consequences of your reckless actions.
You stepped back, out of the warmth provided by his body. You had a plan, one you knew he wouldn’t like, but it seemed like the only solution to get you both out of this mess with minimal repercussions. Well, for him at least. You doubted Beron would take pity and turn a blind eye to your failure, but it was worth a shot.
“I need you to hurt me.”
His eyes widened, but you went on before he could object. “You can tell Rhysand I was acting alone, that you made sure I won't be a problem anymore, and I’ll go back to Autumn and tell my father I was caught and tortured. But I need you to hurt me and I need you to make it look believable.”
Azriel was gaping. You had never seen him like this before. You knew how your idea sounded, but you needed him to understand the criticality of the situation and agree to it.
“Az, I—”
“No.”
You blinked. “No?”
Something ticked in his jaw, a subtle clench of his muscle. “No,” he repeated, voice firm and unyielding. “I'm not hurting you, love. You can't just ask me to do that. I won't. I can't.”
You studied him for a moment, but you knew he wasn't going to change his mind.
“Fine,” you sighed, extending a hand toward him, palm up. “Then give me Truth-Teller.”
He frowned, and the shadows swirled around him nervously, as if sensing the direction this conversation was taking. “And why would I do that?”
“You won't hurt me, so I'll do it myself,” you replied, as if the answer was obvious.
His eyes widened. “Y/N—”
“Just a few cuts here and there,” you assured him. “Nothing too bad. But my father has to believe it's real.”
Once again, Azriel stared at you, pale as if he had just seen a ghost. “You can't be serious.”
“You have a better idea?” you retorted. Without waiting for his answer, you reached for the dagger at his thigh. The sooner you could get this over with, the better.
Azriel easily sidestepped you, grabbing both your wrists to prevent you from trying to take his knife again. “I'm not letting you hurt yourself either,” he stated. His grip on you was gentle, but his tone was cold. It was the kind of tone that told you he wouldn't take no for an answer.
But neither would you.
“We don't have a choice, Az,” you countered, your voice steady despite the rising tension. Yet you didn't try to free your hands.
Something shifted in his eyes, in his expression. His thumbs brushed over your wrists in soothing motions, and a pleading note entered his voice when he spoke again. “I can't stand to see you hurt, my love. I don't care about the reason.”
For a few seconds, you just stared into each other's eyes. You were still tense and rigid, and fear coiled in your gut at the thought of going back and facing your father. But Azriel's gaze was soft, scarred fingers never ceasing their gentle caresses. In that moment, you realized that he would rather tell his family the truth than let you go back home battered.
And then it hit you. Though you loved the Autumn Court, it wasn't your home. No, your home was Azriel. He had been for years now. Your safe place, the person you could always count on, the one who knew you better than anyone else. Your mate.
“He won't let me leave,” you whispered, and you hated how weak and vulnerable you sounded.
“You're already here.” Azriel lifted your hands to his mouth and pressed a warm kiss on each palm. “You don't need to leave. You just need to stay.”
You shook your head, tears rising to your eyes. “He sent me here. He knows where I am, and he'll come looking or send someone to find me, or—”
“We'll deal with him,” he interrupted you. “But you'll be safe here. I promise.”
You couldn't hold back the tears, then. He sounded so sure, as if it could ever be that simple. As if you could just make the choice to stay and never go back. You wished you could. With all your heart, you wished it could be as simple as that.
“Az, I… I can't,” you murmured, voice trembling.
He let go of your wrists to cup your cheeks, wiping away your tears. “I will protect you,” he reassured softly. “My whole family will, once they know the truth. You will be safe in the Night Court. And if not, then… then we'll go somewhere else, somewhere far away where Beron won't find us.”
We. Us.
For how long had you wished to hear those words? Even after you two had met, you had never truly been a couple. You had stolen moments whenever you could, but it was always you and him—your duties and his. Never a ‘we’, never an ‘us’.
“Stay.”
You closed your eyes, unable to hold his pleading gaze any longer.
“Stay in the Night Court.”
You swallowed, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders as if it were a physical burden. “Az…”
“Stay with me.” His voice broke, vulnerability spilling into every word. “Please.”
What if it were that easy? What if you could make the decision and simply not go back to the Autumn Court? What if you could spend every day and every night with the person you loved with all your heart, with your mate, and not having to hide, to carefully plan every meeting, to weave lie after lie to everyone around you?
When you opened your eyes, Azriel was staring at you. He was still brushing away your tears, but even through their veil, you could see how beautiful he was. How desperate. How broken.
And you nodded.
“Okay,” you whispered.
His eyes immediately lit up. “Okay?”
“Yes,” you confirmed despite the quiver in your voice. “Yes, I'm… I’m staying. With you.”
You barely had time to finish the sentence before he pulled you into his arms, your face pressed against his chest as he held you tight. You let yourself go, surrendering to the tears and the sobs shaking your body, clutching his leathers to keep your hands from trembling.
“Thank you,” he murmured against your hair, over and over. “Thank you, my love. Thank you.”
You didn't know how long you just stood there. Minutes, hours, days—it didn't matter. You were together now, and you would always be from this moment on. You were home, and never again would you suffer at the hands of your father.
His shadows swarmed around you, caressing your back and arms, twisting in your hair as if they, too, were excited about what would happen next. You didn't know. For the first time in your life, the future was bright, and happiness was within your grasp.
You pulled back only when your tears ran dry. Azriel pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, and you both smiled, brightly and lovingly, knowing you would not leave each other again.
“Let's get you out of here,” he said eventually, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers. “There's so much to do.”
Like meeting his family. Revealing your identity, who you were and what you did, and hoping they would understand and not hold it against you.
As Azriel stepped back to turn toward the door, you hesitated.
“Can you promise me something?” you asked, your voice quiet and still a bit hoarse from crying.
He stopped, worried eyes immediately searching your face for any sign of discomfort or concern. “Of course, love. Anything you want.”
“It's nothing too big, just…” You offered a small smile and squeezed his fingers. “No more secrets, Az.”
His hazel eyes softened, and his lips curled into a beautiful smile. He nodded, tugging gently on your hand to lead you out of the cell and into your new life. “No more secrets.”
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2nd a/n: if the lines "Stay / Stay in the Night Court / Stay with me" reminded you of another very similar quote, you are correct. I had originally written "Stay in the Night Court. Just... stay with me" and it made me think of that quote, which is one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite books and said by one of my favorite characters ever, so I decided to include it (a little easter egg, if you will). Kaz and Azriel 🤝 simping for the girl they like
General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings
Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 8 months ago
Note
Couldddd you please write something with hiromi?? I'd appreciate itttt so muchh :)
At Law
Tags: Hiromi Higuruma x fem!Reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, academic rivals, enemies to lovers, hate fucking, unhinged!hiromi, depictions of violence including murder
Synopsis: Being the state’s district attorney was your dream job. After years of law school and hard work, you were finally appointed the job and allowed to represent the state in court. You singlehandedly decided which cases to prosecute and who to bring to justice. When your old academic rival, Hiromi, shows up as a defense attorney in court one evening, you know he’s going to give you a hard trial… and a hard fuck.
An: Anything for you nepobaby :)) Hope you enjoy this. I swear I'm going to make these shorter every time, but then, I start writing and literally can't stop.
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You two have been chasing each other for the longest time.
It started in law school. You don't exactly remember how it happened, but slowly over time, you and Hiromi began playing your little academic race.
Both of you were brilliant, quick, and determined. Honestly, you two were like a professor's dream to have.
You found yourself studying longer, committing to all-nighters just to read over several codes of law and past cases in the court. All of it just to score a little bit higher than him on a test.
But dammit, he was faster than you when answering questions the professor proposes. His photographic memory serves him well as he's able to distinctly remember what code a law comes from and where the code is at in the Code of Federal Regulations.
Don't even get me started on how mock trials went. The professor would actually have to stop pairing you two against each other because it would become so toxic and brutal between the two.
As law school progressed, the workload just got worse. The school expected you to complete assignments, study for the bar, and take on unpaid internships. You were a slave for your degree.
Hiromi wasn't immune to those types of pressures either, and as much as he hated to admit it, study partners help retain information better. It would help effectively consume the source material in half the time. Unfortunately, the rest of his peers were just so beneath him...
Well, besides you.
All-nighters weren't lonely anymore. You and Hiromi would drink enough caffeine to kill an elephant and go through weeks worth of content in a night.
"You know... the release of endorphins can help concentration and reduce stress, thus helping students study." Hiromi said one early morning.
It was around four a.m, and you two were covering the petty crimes section. To say it was incredibly boring was an understatement. Students like you and Hiromi would never represent or prosecute clients in petty crimes. You two were destined for so much more.
"What are you suggesting, Hiro?" You ask before a small yawn escapes your mouth. You hadn't even looked up from your book.
"I'm suggesting that we help each other by taking a quick break." He responds as he shoves the book away from your lap. Your surprised eyes look up at his tired ones, and he cups your cheeks before he leans down to kiss you.
You would walk into class sore the next day. As soon as the adrenaline from one round wore off, you two were gunning for the next.
Your study sessions continued on and so did your competitiveness.
When you scored one point higher than him on the bar, he hate fucked you until morning.
Then, he made it his mission to surpass you everywhere else too. Recruiters and attorneys personally from different law firms were ringing Hiromi's phone constantly.
You genuinely believed that he would take the calls on speakerphone just to fucking spite you. You could hear the lawyers on the phone praise him so highly, practically begging for him to come practice at their firm.
Of course, you were getting some recruitment opportunities too, but it was still somehow harder for women to find jobs in the criminal justice field than it was for men. You also hadn't been selling yourself to these firms as much as he was because you had your mind set on working for the state. You wanted to be a prosecutor for the district attorney.
The icing on the cake was when you two were having one of your "study breaks" (aka Hiromi had you bent over your bed, and he was delivering the deepest, most toe curling backshots known to man), and he took a phone call from the district attorney's office.
His hand covered your mouth as he continued to thrust roughly into you while the man on the phone offered Hiromi a job.
"Hm? Oh, thank you for the opportunity." He graciously spoke over the phone as he was absolutely bullying your insides. Your stomach coiled from anger and arousal. You fucking hated him so much. "I'm weighing out all of my options now, but I'll have an answer for you by the end of the week, sir."
After more pleasantries, he hung up the phone and bent over to where he could whisper in your hear. "Hear that, little dove? I'm getting job opportunities from the state while you're under me getting ruined."
"You know, I'll probably be too busy from here on out to play this childish games with you." Thrust. "That'll be too bad, won't it?" Thrust. "Can't say I'll miss you though." Thrust. "Maybe this pretty cunt, but that'll probably be it." Thrust. "Better make this last one count, shouldn't we?" Thrust.
Oh, and he made good on his word. Your entire body ached after he made you finish for the nth time that evening. "I'll see you around, little dove." He whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek and leaving your dorm.
He made good on his word about that too. He never returned to your dorm. Sure, you two were graduating in two days, but some small part of you thought he'd might come over for a celebration.
No, he left you behind. He left you behind. You lost.
The anger burned hot for a few months as you gathered barrings after law school, especially when you'd see his name in the papers.
Defense Attorney Higuruma gets a non-guilty verdict for alleged drug trafficker!
Higuruma sways jury in closing argument, providing the most gut-wrenching speech!
Higuruma, Higuruma, Higuruma.
He was a fucking sensation in the criminal justice field, and his name left a sour taste in your mouth.
The anger only started to subside once you landed your dream job after a long internship. You were finally a prosecutor in a major circuit court in the crimes division.
Hiromi's name finally fled from your brain as you started to flood the newspapers.
Prosecutor helps put away notorious serial killer for life.
Cartel drug lord behind bars after district attorney helps deliver a guilty verdict for over 32 charges.
You finally felt like you hadn't been left behind. You were living the life you wanted to live ever since you were little. Did you imagine you'd be married by now? Yeah, sure. You just... hadn't met the right one yet.
Dating was hard while maintaining a professional career. You had to be extremely choosey for one. It would be scandalous to see a prosecutor dating someone with a criminal record.
And the men were sweet, don't get me wrong. They'd take you on nice dates, write you pitiful love letters, and treat you like a princess... They were all so collectively boring, especially in bed.
You'd tell them! You'd give them incredibly detailed instruction to be rough and mean to you, but they'd always laugh and make some excuse for not wanting to hurt you. Ugh.
Maybe you were ruined by Hiromi... because the only thing that got you off nowadays was the thought of him whispering hateful words into your ear while pounding himself into you with little concern or remorse.
Slowly, the gifts would start appearing.
A bouquet of white roses sitting on your desk. Do you miss me, LD?
You thought it was a simple mistake or a sick prank from one of the criminals you help lock away. You would quietly dispose of the gifts until the slowly became more alarming.
Miss your sweet sounds, LD. An audio recording of you moaning on a tape recorder played.
Who are you trying to look nice for, LD? None of those men could treat you like I did. Pictures of you going out on a date.
I'll take care of them for you. Don't worry your pretty little head, LD. A dead dove.
This was enough to get a harassment and stalking charge, but you didn't want to concern the local police. For one, you knew how lousy the police were when it came to crimes like this from working alongside them. They were honestly an embarrassment. For two, you didn't want this getting out to the public because then copy cats would start up.
You tried investigating on your own, but you came up to a dead end every time. The way this person called you LD made your head spin. That's not even your initials, but the gifts were certainly intended for you.
The only refuge for you was when you were in a court room. You felt safe and protected. A stalker of this degree wouldn't be ballsy enough to confront you in a courtroom while you're surrounded by police and bailiffs constantly.
Your refuge was short-lived by catching a glimpse of a familiar face in court one evening.
He looked as handsome as he did in law school. Hiromi's tired eyes met yours, and he almost immediately cracked a smile as he approached you during recess.
"Well look at you, dove." He smiled as he looked down at you. Hiromi's dark hair laid messily on the top of his head, and he was wearing a full business suit that framed his body nicely. "I see the district attorney's office settled for the second best option after I turned them down. Good for them."
He was still as arrogant and competitive as ever, making your heart flutter like it did back in law school. "Very funny, Hiro." You roll your eyes as you stand to look up at him.
"It's all harmless jokes. I promise. I'm proud of you, really." He assures as his eyes wander your body for just a moment.
You're not use to his praise. Normally, you're not the type to enjoy it, but hearing those words made you clench around nothing as your stomach swirled with butterflies.
"Thanks... I've heard good things about you as well.." You murmur quietly, suddenly losing all your nerve. "So, are you representing someone?"
"I am. I didn't just come here to watch you for fun. Though, I would've had I known you were such a big shot." He nudges your arm gently, causing you to laugh softly. "I'm representing a young man charged with murder. I'm sure you heard about it. Big news all over the television."
"Who was the victim?" You ask as you flip through your case files. If this was a first setting, surely you wouldn't go to trial today, but the thought of going to trial against Hiromi made your heart pound with excitement. Not many lawyers gave you too much trouble during court, but Hiromi... he would be a good match.
"They can't identify the victim. Male, John Doe, early twenties. That's all the information the cops have." He explains, and you start skimming through the case file quickly. It's astonishing that the police made an arrest when there was hardly a body to work from.
"Huh." You muse quietly as you look through the crime scene photos and pictures of the defendant's hands covered in soot from a fire. The victim had been burned.
"I'll be making a motion to dismiss this case based on a lack of substantial evidence linking my defendant to the body. Just a heads up." He then winks at you and walks away from your bar as the judge comes back and sits on the bench.
It seems as though you and Hiromi will have one last back and forth like old times.
When his case gets called before the judge, Hiromi takes the pleasure in speaking first. His client is handcuffed, sitting down next to him. The defendant was young, maybe nineteen. The evidence supporting his conviction was weak, but it was still there. Convincing a jury to convict him will be tough, and that's if the judge doesn't dismiss the charges outright.
After a long, drawn out argument between you and Hiromi about the proponderance of evidence, the judge decides to not dismiss the case.
"In that case, your honor, we would like to request a hearing today." Hiromi speaks with such confidence as he stands before the judge.
"Your honor, the state hasn't had adequate time to prepare for a hearing, and this is first setting. We'd like to request a reset date to prepare our defense." You immediately follow up as you also stand up.
"Your honor, my client has been incarcerated for over twenty-five days for a charge that has flimsy evidence at best. He has a right to a speedy trial." Hiromi rebuttals.
"Enough. We'll have a trial today whether the state is ready to proceed or not." The judge decides. Wonderful.
The trial is as painful as you imagined it to be. The evidence is flimsy, and Hiromi is practically bullying the witnesses on the stand, and when it's your turn for redirect, he practically bullies you with objection after objection.
"And what did the police-"
"Objection hearsay." Hiromi stands from his chair and eyes you with that cold stare of his.
"Your honor, I haven't even finished my question without the defense counsel butting in." You argue to the judge.
"Overruled. Counsel, let her finish." The judge warns.
Your head is practically throbbing by the end of it. The jury deliberates for two hours before coming back with the sentence. You tried your hardest and made good work with what evidence you had.
"On the charge of first-degree murder, we the jury find the defendant... not guilty."
Dammit. Hiromi won once again.
"On the charge of abuse of a corpse, we the jury find the defendant... guilty. On the charge of tampering with physical evidence, we the jury find the defendant... guilty. On the charge of arson, we the jury find the defendant... guilty."
He didn't win.
"On these charges, I will impose a sentence of twenty-five years in the Fuchu Prison with the possibility of parole after ten years." The judge sentences before whacking his gavel down.
You let out an exhausting sigh as you slowly gather your things after court adjourns. Today was likely the hardest day in your career, and you can't help but think about that young nineteen-year-old who won't see freedom until he's twenty-nine.
Hiromi approaches you after the courtroom is completely empty.
"You seem tired, dove." He muses as he loosens his tie from around his neck. He'd never admit it, but you absolutely gave him a run for his money.
"It's not everyday someone gives me that much trouble in court." You softly laugh as you look up at him. You feel your cheeks warm as you realize how close he is to you.
"Yeah? Did it bring back old memories?" He steps closer as his hand slowly reaches up to cup your cheek.
"Hm? Of me winning our mock trials?" You ask with a cheeky grin, and his grip tightens a bit.
"I distinctly remember our record being 15-13 with me having 15 wins." He replies as he leans down to you. He remembers the score you two kept from back in law school?
"You must be still sore about me outscoring you on the bar if you kept up with our scores from mock trials."
"Mmm, quite the contrary actually, you've always been my favorite opponent, even if you piss me off." He replies as he leans down towards you and presses his lips against yours.
The kiss was full of everything you could ever imagine: heat, lust, a hint of resentment towards each other. Before you know it, you're pressed against the table as Hiromi's hands roam your body like he's in a frenzy.
"Hiro.." You moan as he kisses down your neck roughly biting on your flesh. "My office.." You whine, trying to get him to ease up on you just long enough so you two could get out of the courtroom.
"And if I say no, little dove?" He whispers in your ear as his hand slips underneath your dress with such ease. "You'd let me take you right here, wouldn't you?"
"Hiro~" You whine in a breathy tone as his fingers trace around your clit like they did so long ago.
"That's not an answer, little dove." He demands as he applies more pressure. "I asked if you'd let me fuck you on this bar until you forgot your own name."
"Yes-!" You gasp as his fingers skillfully play with your most sensitive area.
"That's what i figured. You were always such a slut back then too. Somethings never change, hm?" He muses as he goes back to sucking and kissing on your neck. His fingers tease near your entrance, but they slowly trail back up to your clit.
"You're lucky I respect you enough." He growls lowly before he removes his hand. "Lead the way to your office."
As soon as you two are behind closed doors in your modest office, clothes are being thrown onto the floor, moans and small whispers of sweet nothings were exchanged. You could quite literally feel your heartbeat fluttering deep inside your cunt.
He gently nudges you to lay down on the leather couch you had in your office for the late nights you spent reviewing evidence. Your skin connects with the soft leather as he gets between your legs. "I wonder if you still taste the same, little dove."
His tongue gently laps at you, and he immediately hums with satisfaction. "Somehow sweeter, actually." He answers his own question as flattens his tongue and licks you from entrance to clit, savoring your fluids of arousal on his tongue.
Your hands find his hair, and you gently tug on it as he helps himself to your wetness. He takes his time, lapping at you slowly while gently suckling on the small bundle of nerves. Sometimes you swear he's spelling his name into your cunt with his tongue before he shoves his tongue directly inside you, drinking your nectar straight from the source.
"H-hiro~!" You whimper as you try to shuffle your hips away. The stimulation was too much to handle.
"Don't try to run from me, little dove." He grunts as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you right back down onto his mouth.
His nose bumps into your clit as you subconsciously ride his face, searching for release. "Yeeahh, there we gooo. There's my little dove.. bein' such a slut." He coos as he buries his face deeper into your core.
His entire face is damp from your delicious juices. He's such a messy eater, getting it all over his chin and nose. His tired eyes flutter up to look at you as you're on the crux of your orgasm.
"Cum on my face, little dove. Let me have you." He instructs before lapping at your cunt like a starved man.
Your voice goes high pitched and breathy as you grab onto his hair tightly, forcing him in even more before you finish all over his mouth. He gratefully continues to run his tongue along your folds until your legs are trembling on his shoulders.
You softly pant as you relax into the couch. You hadn't had an orgasm like that in so long. You had almost forgotten how they feel.
Hiromi looks up at you with a confident smirk and an intoxicated gaze. "Seems like you missed me, little dove."
"Please, I only missed when you're too preoccupied to run your mouth." You retort with a grin.
"Is that so?" He questions as he pulls down his boxers, and his length springs up from the constraints of the fabric. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you're reminded of how big he is.
As if on muscle memory, you turn to get in doggy position because that was his and your position of choice back in college, but he grabs your thighs and prevents you from moving.
"Nuh uh. You're gonna look at me when I take you this time." He grins as he positions himself between your thighs. He fists his length a few times before slowly dragging his fat tip up and down your sopping wet folds, savoring the feeling with a small groan. "I wanna see the tears in your pretty eyes, little dove."
You're about to argue and protest about the tears part, but he's quick to shut you up by forcing his length into you all at once. Hiromi's not only long, but he's very girthy, stretching you so deliciously. White hot pain courses through you as your nails dig into the couch.
"Ah-! F-fuck!" You curse as you try to get use to his size.
"Mmm~ you're tight, dove. How long has it been for you, hm? Surely you've fucked someone since college, unless you've been hopelessly waiting for me." He grins as his hips are slow. He allows you the space to almost get use to him before he shoves into you aggressively, making you see stars.
"Ngh... p-probably like.. uh.. oh god, six months?" You answer as you stutter over your words. Your last hookup had ghosted you after you slept with him. Though, it didn't really bother you. He wasn't good in bed at all, and he called you crazy for asking him to be mean to you during the deed.
Hiromi simply smirks down at you, proud of himself for how fast he can make you a mess underneath him.
"Oh, you poor thing... hah.. No one can take care of this pussy like I can, hm?" He taunts as his hands grab ahold of your hips. His eyes are fixated on where you two are connects. He loves watching his length sink inside you.
Your warm wet entrance only serves to suck him in further, causing him to groan and continue his deep, ruthless pacing.
"N-no..." You're not even able to deny it to him and play hard to get. No one comes close to making you feel as good as he does.
His hips snap forward harshly, fucking you deeper into the black leather of the couch beneath you. Your entire body jolts with each rough thrust.
"Only I'm good for you, isn't that right little dove? You're mine, aren't you?" He asks as his hand reaches up and wraps around your throat, gently applying pressure. His eyes are now staring deeply into yours, waiting for an answer.
"Fuck, Hiro.." You whine, unable to commit to saying you're his. He applies a bit more pressure with his thumb and fingertips.
"I asked you a question." He grits as he slams back into you at a dizzying rate. "Are you mine?"
"Oh~ fuck.. I-" You can barely get a word out as he's ruthlessly abusing your little cunt. This was the roughness you had begged all those other guys for. "Yes-! God, fuck, yes." You cry as you feel your stomach clenching with the burning passion of another orgasm.
"I'm gonna let you in on a little secret because you're mine now, dove." He mumbles lowly as he leans closer towards you. His hips keep up with his rhythm as his face is close to your ear. "That guy you sent to prison today was innocent of all counts."
Your hands reach up and hold onto his back muscles as he's rutting deep inside of you, reaching new places with his new position.
"What-? Hiro... I don't.."
"You sent an innocent man to prison, little dove. Doesn't that bother you? You're sick just like me." He continues on, making you feel all confused.
"How... ah~ how do you know he's innocent?" You ask as your eyebrows furrow. Your hands search his back, and your legs wrap around him as if you're hugging him.
"Because I did it." He growls into your ear. "That pathetic excuse for a man wasn't good enough for you, LD."
Chills immediately shoot through your body from him calling you by those damn initials. LD. You cling to him for a moment, unsure of what to even feel or say. His hips continue to rut inside of you.
"What's the matter, little dove?"
LD. Little dove. You squeeze your eyes shut as you finally piece everything together. Your last hookup didn't disappear. Your stalker, Hiromi, took care of him just like he promised he would.
For some sick reason, your stomach continues to clench as he's rocking back and forth. Your eyes meet his.
"Hiro... that's so.." You can't get the words out before you're finishing all over his cock with a high-pitched squeal.
Hiromi grins wildly as he watches you come undone from your orgasm. "My little dove is just as sick as I am, isn't she?" He coos before he leans back up.
His hips starts to drill into you mercilessly, not giving you a chance to catch your breath or even think. "Oh, fuck!" He curses as he's chasing his high deep inside you. “Mmnph~ gonna cum inside you and really make you mine.” He coos as his hips start moving sloppily.
You know it’s so wrong and taboo, but you couldn’t help but feel your arousal start building again. He just confessed to you about a serious crime, yet your pussy was still soaked, making the most delicious plap! plap! plap! noises as he pounded into you.
“Fuuuuck~” He groans as you feel his thick length twitching inside of you as he spills deep into your womb.
For a moment, you’re completely speechless. Hiromi softly pants as he presses small kisses into your collarbones. “‘m sorry. I had to do it, dove. I couldn’t let him get close to you.” He murmurs quietly. “Only I get to hear your sweet sounds. No one knows you better than me.”
Taking a deep breath, you realize that if this ever gets brought to light, you and Hiromi are going down for life. You gently nuzzle your face into his neck. “Hiro, you’re insane.”
“I know that, I do.” His voice is so sweet, cooing to you. “But we can get away with it, even if we’re miraculously caught.” He presses a sweet kiss to your temple.
Well, a year later, and the two renowned lawyers are married. At least you didn’t marry someone with a criminal record ;)
749 notes · View notes
soxcietyy · 9 months ago
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Anatomy
Gojo x reader
18 + You’re about to take one of the most important exams. Unfortunately you suck at your anatomy and need to learn the material fast. Luck for you Gojo is good at everything, not only that but he’s also a teacher. Soon you learn about his odd teaching techniques.
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"I don’t think I’ll be able to pass this test." You groan as you drink your coffee Shoko had bought you.
You were out with the two of your friends so they could cheer you up. As a healer you had to go the health care route in your studies but it wasn’t so simple.
"Why don’t you just cheat? Shoko is cheating!" Gojo looks at her before returning his gaze back at you.
You let out a deep sign as you slouch in your chair.
Just because she’s cheating doesn’t mean you should too. She’s had some good memory so it was easy to learn everything for her. Unlike you who had to actually go study for it.
Shoko said she would help you cheat through the homework, quizzes, project but you where on your own for the final exam. If you wanted to graduate at the same time as her then you would have to ace this anatomy exam tomorrow.
You felt too scared to cheat. What if you were caught? You would be academically expelled!
You groan loudly before looking up at your friends who had worried expressions.
"How bad do you guys think I’m going to do?" You ask.
"Fail"
"You’ll be fine"
They both said at the same time. Shoko elbows Gojo and then proceeds to grab your hands.
"Just study hard. I would love to help but I have a mission to go on but…" she turns to look at Gojo who was biting his biscuit. "But Gojo here is a teacher now."
Ah right, that moron did take up a teaching job right after graduating. Now that you think about it Shoko might be right. He’s a teacher! His job is to teach material to students. He could help you learn everything you need to. Not only that but he was good at everything he did, he would be able to learn everything in no time.
"Gojo you have to teach me!" You say with a pleading look.
"Haha, right as if you would want to learn anything from me. Don’t you two always make fun of me? Saying I’ll be a horrible teacher and whatnot."
Both of you glare at him.
"Ah, your serious I see.,." He says confused yet surprised.
—-
He was taking his sweet time looking over your text book. Giggling over a few certain pages before slamming the book shut.
You lift your head up from the couches arm.
"Alright I got everything down. Do you want to start with the bones or muscles?"
Gojo decided that the best place to study was in the comfort of his own home. You had protested by saying a library or coffee shop would be better because it would motivate you more.
He then proceeded to call you delusional and dragged you to his place.
It’s not like you haven’t been here before. You all used to hang out here almost everyday during high school. Now he was too busy working while you and Shoko were busy at school trying to get a masters degree.
"Bones"
You figured out really soon that his teaching techniques were quite odd.
Wack
"Ow! What was that for?!" You say as you rub your thigh.
Did he really just hit you with his arm?
"Where did I hit you?" He asks.
"My thigh you idio-"
"Wrong, tell me the name of the bone."
Ah, of course. You sigh as you tell him that he hit your femur with his ulna.
Wack, wack
That’s how studying went for a while. Eventually he would speed up the process by going faster and by hitting multiple spots at once. At the end you felt so sore.
You laid sprawled out on the floor as an ice bag rested on your rib cage.
At this point five long hours had gone by. Thankfully you had learned all the skeletal bones in the body but it was taking longer than you initially expected it to. If you guys keep on like this then it would take you forever to learn the muscles.
"You look so defeated already." Gojo said amused as you laid still.
"This is just harder than I thought it was going to be. Don’t you have a different way of learning anatomy without hurting me?" You ask.
You saw his mouth turn into a wide grin before he squatted down.
"I do have a different way but I feel like you’d dislike it." He smiles.
"I Dont care, I just need to learn the muscles in two hours!" You say looking at the clock.
"Let’s put consequences, people are prone to make less mistakes and to try harder if there’s a punishment."
You roll your eyes.
The exam was early in the morning and you needed all the rest you could get. He was just wasting time at this point. You sigh and just go along with his nonsense.
He grabs your hand and pulls you up so you could sit. He then sat across from you and took his mask off from his face.
He must finally be taking this seriously. Grabbing your hand once again he pulls your index finger and puts it on his cheek.
This was the exact same method, just with no pain involved.
"Masseter"
Then he dragged your finger to his temple.
"Temporalis"
You watch as he squints his eyes at you and looks at you suspiciously.
"I thought you needed help. Seems like you have it down."
"I obviously know a few things. For example the obvious ones like biceps. I know everything above the neck too."
He sits there in his thoughts for a moment before grabbing your hand again.
He slowly unfolded your hand and brought it to his chest. It surprised you for a second but you quickly remembered why he was doing this.
"Breast."
The both of you look at each other for a solid second. Holding eye contact before he suddenly burst out laughing. He had to catch his breath before correcting you.
"Pectoralis major"
Right… you would have totally gotten that right if it wearing for him doing such a thing.
You repeat the answer under your breath as he moves your hand once again.
This time it’s was his abs.
You swallow hands as he runs your hands over them. He wore a tight black shirt making it feel like it was his real skin. You could tell he was watching you carefully. Trying to read the facial expressions you were making. He was enjoying this…
You could concentrate at all. You had the answer on the tip of your tongue but it would spill out.
He kept running your hand up and down
"You’re taking too long y/n, the answer is recuts abdominus. We can come back to it later. Shall I give you a hard one?" He asks.
Maybe this was enough for today. Clearly he was toying with you and you had no time for such thing. Once you get home you’re going to study till midnight.
He moved your hand before you could tell him the study session was over.
It took you a moment to realize what you where not touching and it was indeed hard.
You jolt as he squeezed your hand around his length.
Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about it.
Just answer the stupid question and be over with his games.
"Your small penis"
He glare’s at you as he runs your hand up and down his shaft.
"You know well this isn’t small."
You turn to look away from him so he wouldn’t see your cheeks turning pink. You could feel how it twitched under your touch, how it was pulsing begging to be let out. Begging for any sort of attention. Something you weren’t willing to give so easily.
"Anyways you’re wrong. A penis isn’t a muscle."
Huh?
"It’s not?! But you can move it right?"
Gojo for some reason took this as in invitation to unbutton his pants and to spring it out. You didn’t know whether to look away or take this as a learning observation.
Learning! You’re doing this to learn about the human anatomy! You hum in your head.
Averting your eyes down you see it. That wide long monstrous thing. How could that possibly fit inside of anyone?! Who would even want to sleep with him?
He moved it somehow. You watched it move up and down slowly.
"That’s two answers wrong in a row y/n" he coos.
Right. The punishment.
"So what are you going to make me do? Run laps? push-ups? Your chores?"
"No it’s something even better. Not only will this benefit me but it’s also going to make you learn a bit faster hopefully." He says.
Grabbing your leg he drags you towards him. You yelp at the sudden surprise. You knew he was a hundred times stronger than you so you didn’t bother to fight back. You watched him carefully as he climbed over you. His hair dangling over you.
He leans in slowly into your ear and whispered six words.
"I’m going to put it in."
Your breath hitches as you pushed him back.
This man was trying to kill you! There’s no way, absolutely no way that was going to fit in you at all! Of course you’ve had your fare share of men in you but nothing this big.
You shake your head repeatedly at him.
"You scared? Don’t worry I’ll be nice and careful. I’ll even let you stop me from moving if you answer my questions right." Gojo moves your hair to the back of your ear.
He ran his thumb over your temple in circles trying to sooth you.
All you had to do was get the answer correct right? You’ll just get them all right so he won’t even be able to enter you.
You feel as his hands run over your waist. His cold hands touching your sensitive skin before he gripped your bottoms and yanked them down. Your hands quickly go down to hide everything but he was quick to grab both of your wrist with one hand.
"You’re tempting me to just ram into you if you keep squirming like that."
You stay still causing him to laugh.
"Since you got two wrong I get to put two inches in." He says as he lines himself up with your hole.
You kick him and yell at him to stretch you out first but he refuses by saying that it wouldn’t be a punishment if he were to do that. With that out the way he began sliding into you. The second his tip went in you let out a cry of pain.
You try to run away by scooting back but he held you down and kept going in.
His eyes would squeeze shut at he bit his bottom lip. You could feel as he gripped your wrist and the leg he was holding up.
You let out a louder cry as he kept going. Begging him to stop and to let you adjust. There’s no way women actually enjoyed sleeping with him. He was carrying and actual weapon. He could literally kill someone with that.
Once he did stop you let out a loud groan.
"Such a good girl, you’re doing so good. Who would have know you were so tight." He kisses the inside of your leg.
You whimper in protest.
"What’s this?"
He points at the side of his rib cage.
"Y-your external oblique." Your voice trembles.
"Atta girl."
He then points at the middle part of his thigh.
You began to panic. Name, what’s the name?!why couldn’t they have simple names?! Why are there so many different muscles?
You open your mouth hoping the right answer would hopefully come out. The femur was located there so it had to have the word in the name right? Or at least rhyme with it. Femur-loris? Femoris? That sounded right but what if there’s a second part. Or maybe it was just one word.
You looked at him hoping for a hint but he just stared at you. Finding it amusing the way you were trying to think so hard while he was inside of you.
"You’re taking too long." He says as he shoves himself deeper inside of you.
Ngh!
You whimper as gets I n deeper.
"Femoris!" You yell out.
He makes you take in another inch.
"Fuck! You piece of shit! You’re a horrible teacher! I’m not going to learn anything like this!" You curse at him.
He slams the rest of his three inches inside of you causing you to cry. Your eyes almost roll back as you felt him stuff you. He slams your arms above your head and presses his pelvis deeper into yours. Rolling his hips over and over again making you go crazy. Your eyes began to water as you felt overwhelmed. Hot tears coating your eyelash.
Mascar stains your under eyes and your face begins to heat up. You’re begging him to slow down. Looking at him with a pleading look.
"Gojo, please! I don’t know the answer. I can’t even think straight right now!" You sob.
“Recuts Femoris." He says through his teeth.
He leads your hand to his chest and makes you tell him the answer to that one again.
You give him the correct name of it and felt as he began to slow down inside of you. He lets go of your wrists and brings his thumb to your clit. Rubbing it in circles to give you pleasure.
"A reward for being such a smart girl." He whispers.
He watches as you squirm and jolt at the sensation. He kept sliding in and out of you slowly but the pleasure was more overwhelming than the pain.
You start moaning out his name the faster he went. You’ve never felt this good before. With all the men you slept this had to the best one yet. He wasn’t even fucking you probably! He was toying with you!
What would it feel like if he was actually trying?
"Can’t you just fuck me properly?!" You say
He looks at you shocked before smiling. He put your legs over each shoulder and leaned in closer to you. You moan as he somehow reached a deeper area inside of you.
"I will when you get everything down and if you pass I’ll even eat you out." He groans as he grinds himself onto you.
You don’t know how or where all of this knowledge came from all of a sudden. Each place he pointed out you got the right answer, well almost. You would slip a few times making him pull away and slam into you. At some point your body finally adjusted to his length. This making the punishment more wanted. Sometimes you got the answers wrong on purpose.
By the end you had everything down and he was finally fucking you the way you wanted.
He had you on your knees as he plowed into you.
"I think this technique of learning is way better. Now shall we keep doing this for every exam?" He grins.
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year ago
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Pairing : Dad!Bangchan x F!Reader TW : Chans daughter is not readers child ; Chans ex wife and daughter are shit starters ; drama of course ; angsty ; honestly, poor Chan ; fluffy ending though ; slightly suggestive at the end as well ; Word Count : 6.5k Request : Anonny : Please write an angsty / fluffy fic about Dad!chan who, after years of not dating, finally decides to get back into dating & when he finally finds someone he doesn't tell reader he has a teenage daughter because he doesn't know how reader would feel about it but when reader finds out they're really upset and avoid him and his daughter reaches out to reader and convinces reader to talk to Chan and make up because she hates seeing her dad upset. A/N : This request is so cute and I'm so happy I get to write it. Of course, it will be super drama because I love when it happens, and with Chans recent bbl messages we know this man loves this kind of shit, so... This is for Chan and Chan stans and we love Chan!
“I got a call from your teacher today, Ella.” Chan said as his daughter walked through the front door. “They said your grades haven’t been the best lately, that you haven’t been focusing in class. Is something wrong? Do you have something going on?” He didn’t want to be the kind of father that always got on his child when their grades were below average, but he also didn’t want his daughter to flunk out. He wanted to see her be successful and happy in life, that’s all he ever wanted. 
“I’ve just been going through some stuff, dad.” Ella mumbled as she kicked her shoes into the corner near the front door and dropped her bags onto the floor. “Mom said she’s been trying to get in touch with you lately. I guess she saw that you’ve been posting about going out on your facebook.” She pulled out the chair across the table from Chan. “Why don’t I get to meet your new girlfriend?” 
Chan rolled his eyes, finally looking up from his phone to look at his daughter. “You’re changing the subject. What I do in my spare time isn’t important. Your grades are. So tell me, what kind of stuff have you been going through that’s been keeping you from being able to focus. Maybe I can help.” 
She huffed loudly, the attitude that he was warned would come along with a teenage daughter was in full force now. “It’s not even important anyway… Don’t you have a date to go on tonight? That’s all you ever talk about anymore. It’s like you don’t even care that mom left…” It was finally making sense to him, but it hurt that she felt that way. He had been kind enough to keep his ex wife’s dirty secrets just that, a secret, so that Ellas view of her mother wouldn’t be warped. He was trying to do the right thing, but it was becoming harder and harder. 
“I do care that your mother left… I was hurt by it for a long time, El. It’s been 8 years, and I think that it’s time that I’ve finally moved on because she isn’t coming back. Your mother has gotten remarried, divorced, and married again in those 8 years and I haven’t been with anyone until just a few months ago. I don’t think you’re being very fair right now.” He tried to explain, but he could tell, he could just see it in her face that she wasn’t ready to hear about it. “And, just so you know, I don’t have a date to go on tonight. I was planning on being here to help you with your homework and studying so that I don’t get another call like I had today.” 
///
“Had a late night in the studio, huh?” You said as you walked up behind Chan, your arms draping over his shoulders as he sat in front of his computer in his office. You could tell he was tired, he could barely sit up straight and his eyes wouldn’t stay open for longer than a few seconds. “It’s okay to take a break, bubs. It’s 3racha, not ChrisRacha.” 
He snickered at the little name, finally swiveling his chair around to face you and pulling you down onto his lap. “You sound like everyone else. I don’t like taking breaks, it gives me too much time to think about the time that I’m wasting.” He explained, his voice was groggy and not even laced, but completely filled with exhaustion. “I’ll be fine once I go over your place tonight, we can cuddle up and watch a movie.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin sending a wave of goosebumps all over. 
“They’re repainting all of the apartments, I can’t even go into my own house right now. I’ve been staying with my parents.” You reminded him, although you were sure you had texted him about it and told him about it in the days leading up to the renovation. “We can go over to your place. We’ve been dating for 4 months now and you haven’t even invited me over.” 
There was a reason for that, a reason that you didn’t know of, but he felt it was just better if you didn’t find out. The last thing he wanted was for you to run off because he had a daughter, not just any daughter though, a teenage daughter who was still hung up on the divorce of her parents. She wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and although Chan had tried to butter her up to the prospect of one day meeting you, she didn’t take too kindly to the fact that he was dating again. “My place is a mess…” He lied, trying to muffle his words in the fabric of your shirt so you wouldn’t pick up on it. “We can go to a hotel if you’d like.” 
“That seems sleezy…” You mumbled, and he felt awful, he truly did. It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He absolutely loves his daughter with every ounce of his heart, his entire being, he loved being her father. He loved you too though, you had been the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two of you, it just didn’t seem fair. “I guess we’ll just wait for my apartment to be ready…” He could feel you trying to pull away, he could tell that you were upset, he didn’t want you to leave like that, so he tightened his arms around you, holding you close to him. 
“You’re not sleezy! I’m sorry I even recommended that, you’re better than that.” He quickly tried to get himself out of the hole that he had dug, it felt like he was clawing his way to the top, and everytime he got halfway out, he’d slip and he’d fall right back to the bottom. “I’ll clean my place, I just want it to be perfect for when you come over. Okay? You deserve the best.” 
The tension slowly left your body, he felt you soften up against him, and for a moment, it felt like he could breathe again. “Okay… Fine. I’ll wait… I just really miss sleeping next to you.” You whispered, and those words made his stomach feel warm and fuzzy. He missed sleeping next to you too. “I have to get back to work though… I’ll see you later. Try taking a break though, take a nap or something, that’s what the couch is for.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up, his arms reluctantly loosening around you until you were free to go. “Seriously, get some sleep.” 
///
“Where are you going?” Ella asked from the couch, watching Chan storm to the front door and yank his coat off the hook. “Did you and your girlfriend get into a little fight? Do you have to go kiss and make up now?” The mocking tone in her voice would usually only slightly irritate him, but he was already beyond irritated at the reason he had to leave in the first place. 
“No, it’s your damn mother.” He snapped, pulling his shoes on before grabbing his keys. “I don’t know how long she’ll hold me up, there’s food in the freezer, or you can grab my wallet out of my bag and order yourself something. Try to do some studying while I’m gone, please?” And without another word he was out the front door, slamming it behind him. 
What Chan didn’t know was that he had left his wallet at work on his studio desk, and you had gone into his studio before leaving to see if he was there but only found his wallet. He must have left the building without saying anything to you, and you wondered if maybe he was sick or something had happened back at his place. You were doing the right thing, at least that’s what you felt you were doing. You were just going to take his wallet home to him and check up on him. You didn’t mind that his house might be a little dirty, you completely understood that he was busy, you didn’t expect his house to be immaculate. 
You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to stand in front of his front door, but a chill ran through your body and you had to take a few breaths before even lifting your hand to knock. Once you did, you took a step back, listening to the locks being undone before the door opened. It wasn’t who you expected to see, it wasn’t Chan, it was a girl, she looked younger, at least 15 or 16. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have read the address wrong.” You quickly apologized, bowing your head to the girl before turning away. 
“Who are you looking for?” The girl asked, and what you weren’t aware of was that she had seen Chans wallet in your hand, she knew that you had come to the right address, she was just playing a game that you didn’t know about. You quickly said his name, and she let out a soft hum. “He’s out right now. It’s date night for him and my mom.” You felt your stomach sink, deeper and deeper until it couldn’t go any further. “Is that his wallet? Thank you so much for bringing it, I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you brought it back. Hopefully he’ll answer his phone so he can pick it up and pay the bill, you know?” 
You nodded slowly, the bile from your stomach rising into your throat. “Y-Yeah… Of course… H-Here you go.” You stammered, your hand shaking as you handed the wallet over to the girl. You knew she wasn’t lying, she looked so much like Chan it was uncanny. Why hadn’t he told you? What was he even doing with you? He had a wife, or at least a girlfriend or fiancee… He had a child… But he was going around with you? It was beginning to add up though… Why he always wanted to go over your house. Why he’d rather go to a hotel than to bring you to his own place. You felt absolutely sick. 
“Have a good night!” The girl chimed cheerfully as you made your way back to your car, the light from inside the house that had illuminated the front yard faded until you were covered in darkness. You were devastated, you were heartbroken… You had never felt more humiliated in your life and all you wanted to do was go crawl underneath a rock and hide there. 
///
The meeting with his ex wife the night before had stressed Chan out beyond belief. He couldn’t believe that after 8 years she wanted to fight for custody of Ella now. Her reasoning behind it would have been laughable if they hadn’t been so damn ridiculous. By the time he had gotten home though, Ella was already in bed and he was so tired from dealing with his ex that he had gone right to bed as well. By morning, Ella had already left for school, so he’d have to wait until he got off work and she got home from school to even talk to her about what her mother had said. 
Now, he was only looking forward to seeing you. You were the only person at this point who could calm him down and bring him some semblance of peace, at least for the short amount of time that he got to be with you. “Hey, lovely.” He called to you when he caught you walking down the hall. Usually you’d smile and wave, you’d even run over to him sometimes if the hall was empty. This time you just shook your head before lowering it and walking right by him. 
It was a shock to say the least, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst, although he couldn’t be 100% sure of what had happened that would cause you to be acting like this. Was it because of the hotel comment the day before? Was it because he wouldn’t let you come over to his house? It couldn’t be that though, he had talked to you about it. It had to be something more, but he couldn’t figure it out. You looked absolutely pissed, like you didn’t want anything to do with him. 
“Y/N!” He called out your name now, jogging down the hall to catch up with you, but you didn’t even look up at him, and you sure as hell didn’t slow down. In fact, it seemed like you sped up, like you were trying to get away from him. “Hey… What… What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?” He lowered his voice but quickened his steps to keep up with you, trying to duck down just enough to get a view of your face, but every time he got close enough you’d look away. 
“I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. Whatever it was that you made me think we had, it’s over. I’d like it if you left me alone now.” You stated flatly, your arms tightening around the multitude of folders that you clutched to your chest. “I’m changing groups, I won’t be one of your staff anymore as well, so please, don’t bother me anymore.” 
Something had happened, and it wasn’t something that could easily be fixed like Chan thought. It was worse, way worse. You had basically fired yourself from being his group's staff because of whatever happened. “Hold on!” His fingers wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you from going any further. “So you’re just… Breaking up with me? You’re not even going to tell me why!?” His voice cracked as it rose in pitch, his chest rising and falling heavily as the panic fully set in. “I fucking love you, Y/N… You can’t just do this to me and not tell me why.” 
When you finally looked up, he could see your eyes were glistening, your bottom lashes bedazzled with twinkling tears that clung onto them. You were just as upset as he was. “Stop pretending, Christopher!” You croaked out, sniffling loudly once the words left your chapped lips. “I refuse to be the rebound chick that you think you can run to when your marriage is on the rocks. I won’t be strung along by you, not anymore.” You took a few deep, shaky breaths to compose yourself before you pulled your arm free of Chans hold. “Now, if you don’t mind… I have another group to meet. I have work to do. I do believe that you have some work to do as well.” You bowed your head to him before turning and walking away, leaving him more confused than he was before. 
His marriage… It had fallen apart years ago when he had come home to find his wife in bed with another man while his daughter was fast asleep in the room across the hall. It had been disgusting, heartbreaking, it would have been his downfall if not for his daughter and the moral, mental, and emotional support of the guys. He wasn’t sure why it was being brought up, he didn’t even know how you had found out, but that same feeling of devastation that he had felt 8 years ago was flooding him once again. 
The guys… They were the only ones who would be able to talk to you, they were the only ones who knew about the secret past that Chan was trying so hard to hide from you. Would they do something like that though? Would they hurt him like that? “Yo! What’s up?” Changbin said as he came up behind Chan, his arm draping over his shoulder. “You’re… crying? What happened?” The cheerful tone was immediately dropped, and even though Changbin was younger, he was in full protection mode. 
“Y/N… She… She broke up with me…. She knows about Sana…” He gasped out the words, each of them getting caught in his throat, it felt like he was choking. “Somebody told her… Someone… They had to have told her! Who!?” He was shouting now, his sadness turning to anger in a matter of seconds. The look of confusion of Changbins face was enough for Chan to know that he had no idea what Chan was talking about, and that in itself proved his innocence. That left 6 more guys to question. 
“Y-You know that none of us would do that to you… Why would we do that? You were happy!” Changbin quickly defended the others as well, seeing in Chans eyes that he was on the warpath and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out who had told you. “I… I do know she went to the studio last night after you left… She… She said something about your wallet but… Maybe she went to your house to drop it off and… and…-” 
“Ella…” Chan muttered out the name, a loud groan leaving him as his head fell back. “I have to go… Will you be okay? Can you run practice for me?” Now he was in a hurry, a hurry to get home, to talk to you… He had so many things he had to do, he didn’t even know where to begin. Changbin nodded his head, patting Chans shoulder before taking a step back. Truthfully, Chan didn’t know what the hell he was going to do… But he knew he had to do something. He wasn’t going to lose you… He couldn’t. 
///
“Sit. Now.” Chan said, not even giving his daughter time to fully come through the door before the words left his mouth. He had been sitting at the table, thinking over and over about how he’d go about bringing it up to her, but now that she was finally home, all of his thoughts had gone out the window and all he could feel was irritation. She rolled her eyes, dropping off her bag and kicking her shoes off like she did every day, heading in the direction of her bedroom. “Did you not hear me? I want to talk to you.” 
“About what?” She snapped, whipping around to face him. “About the lady that showed up on our front porch last night?” Chans eyes widened, he didn’t even have to drag it out of her, she wasn’t a liar… and for that, he was proud, he had at least taught her one good thing. “Did she dump you? Well good… You don’t deserve to be happy. Not after what you did to mom…” After… what he did…? He was stunned into silence, his head cocked to the side as he tried to think about what he could have possibly done to make him the bad guy in all of this. “She told me all about it, don’t try to act like you’re so innocent.” 
Those weren’t Ellas words, those were her mothers words and she was speaking them for her. “I tried so hard to protect your mother for some reason… So that you wouldn’t think badly of her… And this is what she does.” He mumbled, running his hand through his hair and sighing heavily. “Can you please sit? I really need to talk to you…” He stretched his legs under the table, pushing out the chair across from him and motioning to it with his head. He could see the reluctance, but she finally made her way over, dropping down into the chair, but not without an eye roll and a look of disgust. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth… I didn’t want you to see your mother as anything less than what she is… But I wasn’t the one who did anything. Your mother is the reason we’re divorced…” 
“You’re a liar… She said that you’d lie…” Ella mumbled, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared at her father. “Just like you lied to that lady. She didn’t even know I existed! You kept me a secret from her… Why? Are you embarrassed of me? Are you ashamed of me?” The sulky teenage attitude subsided, and he could see that she wasn’t just angry, she was upset. He never meant for it to be like this, he didn’t even think that something like this would happen. It’s not like he planned on keeping his daughter hidden forever… He just didn’t want to spring it all on you at the beginning of the relationship. 
“No! God, no… El… You are an amazing daughter, you’re smart and you’re funny… You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever created. I’m so proud of you…” He whispered, and he could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. He should have told her these things a long time ago, maybe she wouldn’t be acting out, but it was too late, and now all he could do was try to fix things piece by piece. “I didn’t want to bring someone into your life unless I knew that it was serious… It’s one thing for me to be hurt… But I didn’t want you to potentially get close to her just for her to leave and hurt you too.” He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before continuing. “I divorced your mother… Because she cheated on me, Ella. Do you really think I would have gotten custody of you if it were the other way around? The man she married… That’s… That’s the guy… And they’re already divorced… And she’s already married again. She’s been married twice since the divorce, and I… I haven’t been with anyone until a couple months ago. Do you think that would be the case if I was the one who had screwed up?” He could see the gears turning in her mind as she thought about everything that he was saying, and he could see that it was all adding up. “Your mother wanted to meet up with me yesterday because she’s trying to get custody of you…” 
Ellas eyes widened and her head shook fast. “No… I don’t… I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to live with her, dad.” The words were rushed out, full fledged panic written across her features. “Don’t let her take me… I want to stay with you… I’m sorry… I’m sorry I told the lady that you were having date night with mom. I’m sorry that I ruined it… I’m sorry… Please don’t let her take me.” She was crying now, absolutely bawling, and it broke his heart to see his daughter so upset. 
He jumped out of his chair, running around to her side of the table and pulling her up into his arms. Right now, she wasn’t just a teenager with a bit of an attitude problem… She was his little girl, and he was going to protect her and he was going to keep her safe. He was going to fix everything, no matter what it took. “She’s not going to get you, she won’t win. You’re staying here with me… I promise.” 
///
“Have you gotten a hold of her?” Ella asked, dropping down onto the couch beside her father. It had been weeks since the last time he had spoken to you, but he had seen you in the halls at the building every single day. No matter how many times he tried to stop you and explain everything, you’d just keep walking like you didn’t know him at all. Ella could see that it was breaking him, and she knew that it was her fault. “I’m really sorry, dad…” She mumbled. 
Your picture was still his lockscreen, and every time a notification would pop up on his phone he would jump up, a single second of excitement and wishful thinking, only to be let down once he realized it was someone, anyone but you. “It’s okay… I’m gonna try to get some work done. Let me know when you get hungry, I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?” And she nodded slowly, waiting for Chan to get up and go into his little office before running to the front door and pulling on her shoes. If he wasn’t able to fix it, maybe she could. 
The walk to the building wasn’t too far, and she knew that, for the most part, whenever her father went into his office it was so he could cry in private. That usually lasted a couple hours, and she was sure that she wouldn’t need too much time. 
Everyone in the building knew her, they had heard so much about Chans daughter that she was looked at as an idol herself. They all welcomed her warmly, but she was on a mission. “Hi! Would you happen to know where an Y/L/N Y/N is? My dad sent me to make sure she got something.” She came up with it quickly, and no one seemed to question it either. They gave her the information just as fast and sent her on her way… It was far too easy… She’d have to talk to her dad about that. 
The ride up the elevator gave her enough time to think about what she would say, or at least a little bit of what she’d say. Truth be told, she was nervous. She wanted things to go well for her fathers sake, but she knew that the trouble she had caused and what she did could have irreversible damage. 
When the doors slid open, it was like fate had brought her here at this exact moment, because you were standing right outside the doors. “Oh… Uhm… I-I remember you…” You murmured, bowing your head to her before taking a step back. “I think you’re on the wrong floor though… Your father is a couple floors down.” 
Ella shook her head, stepping out of the elevator, trying to look like she wasn’t a nervous wreck standing in front of you. “I’m here to talk to you.” She said, her head held high just to exemplify the false feeling of confidence that she was trying to give off. “Are you busy?” 
“I’m very sorry if me being with your father created any problems. I’m not with him anymore though… And, with all due respect… I’m just trying to move on.” 
“That’s the problem though!” Ella blurted out as you moved past her and stepped into the elevator, turning around quickly on her heel to face you, her hand pressed against the elevator door to keep it from closing. “Him and my mother aren’t together… They haven’t been together for 8 years. I… I was upset because… I didn’t understand what happened… I didn’t know why my parents weren’t together and… My mom lied and… And I’m sorry. My dad really loves you… And he wanted me to meet you… And he’s been crying every night because I ruined your relationship because I lied just like my mom and I’m… I’m really sorry, ma’am…” 
She was once again crying, and you didn’t really know what to do, but it felt wrong to just stand there and watch her cry, so you hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and gave her the most awkward one armed hug. “It’s… It’s okay…” You murmured, and much to your surprise, she turned her body completely toward you and wrapped her arms around you. Whether there was a maternal bone in your body at all before this moment or not, you immediately felt the urge to comfort her, to make sure she was okay, to wipe her tears and tell her that everything would be fine. “Hey… Hey, let’s go to my office. We can get a drink and some tissues and then… I’ll take you home. Is that okay?” 
Ella nodded slowly, her face scrunched up and her bottom lip pushed out. She really did look like her father. “Will you talk to him?” She asked weakly, and as much as you hated him… Now that you knew the truth… It felt like the right thing to do, so you hummed in agreement to her question, leading her down the hall to your little office and pushing the door open for her. “Y-You know… You’re still his main picture on his phone. He’s waiting for you to text him or call him or something… He misses you so much.” 
You were sure that she didn’t mean to tell you so much, and you were very sure that Chan would be incredibly embarrassed if he found out that his daughter was telling you so much. “I’ll talk to him, I promise… Pinky promise.” You held out your hand, your pinky extended to her, and she quickly latched her finger around yours, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. 
“You are really pretty… He wasn’t lying… And you’re really nice too. I would be really mad at me if I were you…” She lowered her head, her entire body slouching forward as she sat in the chair across your desk. “Why aren’t you mad at me?” Her voice was below a whisper, her question genuine, and you didn’t really know how to answer it. 
“Well…” You began, your fingers drumming against your lap as you leaned back in your chair. “I don’t blame you for what you did… You’re a child and… And your parents divorced. I’m sure that any child would be upset if they found out either of their parents was dating someone else, especially if the kid doesn’t understand why their parents divorced in the first place. You were protected from the truth… But it made you do something that you regret. It’s still not your fault though, it’s no one's fault.” You reached across your desk, your hand faced up for her, and she slowly placed her hand in yours, the smile from earlier returning to her face, but this time it was just a little bigger and it reached her eyes. “Let’s go see your dad, yeah?” 
///
Chan had at some point cried himself to sleep while sitting in front of his computer, but the sound of a soft knock on the door had him jolting awake. “Dad?” Ellas voice came between the small crack in the door as she peeked inside, and he quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up from his chair, almost bringing his entire laptop with him since he forgot to take the headphones off. “I ordered dinner for us… It’s here.” She said between little giggles at the way he stumbled. It was nice to hear her laugh, he hadn’t heard it in a bit, not from anyone in the house. He wondered what had changed. 
“You didn’t have to do that, I would have cooked for us…” He said somberly, but he knew that she was doing it as a favor for him. He was a wreck, it was visibly noticeable that he hadn’t had more than a few hours of sleep in the past two weeks, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He was a shell of the man that he once was when he had you, but he knew he had to get better, he wasn’t sure how he would do that, but it wasn’t fair to Ella to constantly be like this, it would only make her feel more guilty. “I’ll be right out… Thank you.” He said when she hovered in the doorway, and he watched her walk away. There was a bounce in her step, she hadn’t been this peppy in a while. He was genuinely curious and now he was rushing out of the little studio room so that he’d be able to sit down and talk to her, maybe he could find out what was going on. 
“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend over.” She said from the kitchen. He was adamant that he had never heard her bring up a friend, especially not one that would come over and visit. Was it a boy? She never mentioned liking anyone at school… Was she too scared to talk to him about those kinds of things? He made a mental note to sit down and talk to her about it one day this week. “Are you coming?” She called out and he hummed in agreement, trudging out of the little room with his head hung just a little. 
This wasn’t the first impression that he wanted one of his daughter's friends to have of him as her father. He wanted to look more respectable for the sake of Ellas reputation. It seemed like he didn’t really have a choice though, she was rushing him to come out, and he didn’t want to keep her and whoever she had over waiting. “I apologize, I wasn’t really told that you’d be coming over.” Chan began as he walked down the hall, and he completely froze when he saw just who his daughter had brought over. 
“I don’t think anyone really knew I was coming over.” You said lightly, the warmest smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. He couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t find words, all he could manage to do was open his mouth and croak out sounds as salty tears pricked his eyes. “Is it… okay… that I’m here?” You asked when the silence lasted longer than you thought it would, and he nodded his head fervently, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie. 
“It’s… It’s more than okay… I just… I don’t know why… I don’t mind it though.” He rambled, looking between you and Ella who was currently setting the table for three people instead of the usual two. “You’re… staying for dinner?” He questioned, and you gave him that adorable, heart stopping smile that had stopped him in the halls of the building all of those months ago, the smile that had pushed him over the edge and made him fall for you in the beginning. 
“Yes she is.” Ella spoke up, clapping her hands together to get both of your attention. “Do you want me to eat in my room… So the two of you can talk? I’m sure you have a lot to talk about… I can leave you alone if you’d like.” But you shook your head, walking over to the table and playfully ruffling her hair before opening the takeout bag and pulling out the contents. 
“I’d like it a whole lot if you stayed and ate with us… But if you want to eat in your room… If your dad says it’s okay… Then you can.” You sounded so… sweet, the way a mother would talk to her own daughter, and the craziest part was that Ella smiled at you before taking a seat at the table, she actually listened to you… There was no attitude that came alone with it. “Are you just going to stand there and look at the food, or are you going to join us in eating it?” You asked, bringing Chan out of his own thoughts and back into the room. 
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m coming…” Chan whispered, walking into the dining room and taking his usual seat, but the aura at the table was a lot different now. It’s like the whole room had gotten 10 times brighter, and no matter which way he looked he was met with a warm smile. He had so many questions, but he knew that he had all the time in the world to ask them, and regardless of the answer… He knew that things would be better now, all of the pieces were falling back into place, and the picture was more beautiful than he had ever imagined it to be. 
~6 Months Later~
“You’re gonna absolutely crush this test, I know you will.” You stood at the stove, preparing breakfast as Ella sat at the table, her face buried in her text book to get as much last minute studying in before she had to go to school. “No matter what, I want you to remember that your dad and I are so proud of you and how hard you work. Okay? We love you.” Ella hummed softly, not even looking up from her book, but you could see that she was smiling, and that was enough of a response for you to know that she had heard you, that she was listening. You carefully placed her plate down beside her, lightly tapping the table to get her attention. “Please eat. Okay?” 
Chan ran out of the bedroom, his eyes barely even opened, his shirt wrinkled and twisted and his hair sticking up in all different directions. “Did she leave yet?!” He asked rather loudly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking a few times before focusing in on his daughter who was looking up at him, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny. I wanted to give you a hug before you left.” He pouted, and she quickly got up out of her chair, rushing over to Chan and wrapping her arms around him. “You’ll do great. I-” 
“No more speeches! You guys are going to make me cry!” Ella dramatically whined, pulling away from Chan and running back to the table to pack her things into her bag and then shoveling as much food into her mouth as she could before going to the front door. “Love you! I’ll see you later!” She mumbled with her mouth full of food, and before the two of you could say it back she was out the door. 
Once the door was shut, Chan walked over to you, his arms wrapping around your from behind as he rested his chin against your shoulder. “Hey…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek that was dampened by tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to fall. “What’s wrong, lovey?” He cooed, gently turning you around to face him, his head cocked to the side. 
“I don’t know… I just… I’ve only been here for six months and… We’ve gotten so close and… She’ll be going off to college soon if that’s what she wants to do… But… I’m gonna miss her and the house is gonna be so empty and…” You pouted up at Chan who couldn’t help but find it adorable the way you were right now. It was the most heartwarming thing, to know that you loved his daughter so much already that you were crying at the thought of her leaving. 
“Well… We have the house to ourselves for a couple of hours… We could watch a movie or something to take your mind off of being sad… Or… We could go have some fun… Surprise Ella with a brother or a sister when she comes home from college…” Your eyes widened at the suggestion, but your feet were already moving in the direction of the bedroom, that all too familiar tingly feeling building in your stomach. “We can watch a movie when we’re done… If you’re not too tired.” 
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@syuuji @moonlight-the-writer @smutdumpskz @extrhotjne @manuosorioh @yeonjunsfox @jazziwritesthings @itshannjisung
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rocketbaby · 3 months ago
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Heyy! Could you do another bunny izuku of how he acts like in heat I eat them up every time
I was actually really thinking about writing him again, bunny izuku has my heart. Please excuse any mistakes I was rushing a bit 🙏
Tw! Suggestive/nsfw -no actual sex scenes, hand job -- Mha master list
I believe his heat can get quite pretty painful and if he doesn't get the help he needs he starts behaving weirdly.
Bunny!Izuku starts begging you to help him with his heat,he's asking you to let him mate with you. Usually you tell him no because he gets really really rough during those times and you can't take it:(
He still insists,but you don't give in to his pleas,you still want to be able to walk after all. However if he doesn't get what he needs he'll start acting up.
In the first days of his heat he's being a little bitch about everything, hiding your shit around the house so you don't find them, chewing on your chargers and even clothes, leaving holes in them.
Btw he also uses your undies and/or bra to jerk of, wrapping them around his dick.
He'll go like this for a few days but his heat eventually gets worse for him and he's no longer able to hold back. He knew you said no but the poor thing really needed this,his cock was aching and twitching in discomfort.
One night when you get home from work/studies you can't spot him,you call out his name multiple times only to hear some whines and murmurs coming from your bedroom.
During his heat you don't allow him to sleep in your room because he'll get naughty in the middle of the night, trying to stick it in while you sleep. So he gets his own room and he knows damn well he can't be in yours.
You sigh as you walk in your room, seeing him humping your pillows while burying his face into one of your shirts (it smells like you and it gets him hard)
Bunny!izuku was whining out your name when he noticed you got home. You saw his eyes tear up a bit,you knew his heats were more intense than the average heat for other animals but you were still hesitant about letting him fuck you.
You walk up to him, stroking his ears and hair a bit,which only got him harder. He groans and grunts a lot at your touch.
You were really tempted to give in to him in this moment but you were busy tomorrow and you couldn't just stay home..and it'd be weird if people saw you limping around.
Sighing,you quickly help him on his back, lowering down his shorts.
He whines at your action, giving you a soft glance,his eyes are so pretty when he cries. A few tears run down his face as his eyes lower down to your hand wrapping around his cock.
A loud grunt leaves his mouth as his body suddenly goes limp. Your hand was so much better than his,so much softer.
His head leans back against the pillow while his hips buck up into your hand.
Poor izuku can never last long,he always cums so so quickly. He can go 3 minutes at max.
He came all over your fist as you were stroking him through his orgasm. I believe he can get pretty vocal in these moments..he also begs a lot.
"ngh oh god,thank you,thank you. Your hand feels so warm,mmmh its so much better than mine"
"please please,next time lemme be inside you,yeah? Please love, please let me have you"
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natalievoncatte · 7 months ago
Text
1. Leaves
Lena was, in all honesty, having the time of her life. Since they’d arrived here, she had finally relaxed. Really relaxed. Lex was gone. Capital-G Gone. The last of Cadmus had been mopped up. The Conpany was no longer a problem- L-Corp was being sold off, from entire divisions down to sales of old office chairs. The Estate and nine-tenths of the family holdings were all being sold off, and the money quietly funneled into a holding company. Sam Arias would manage Lena’s wealth.
Lena had nothing to do anymore, and it was glorious. She’d done what she’d never done in her entire life: rest. She ate when was hungry, slept when she was tired. She stayed up late finishing a thriller novel she’d grabbed off one of Kara’s tables and slept it off the following day. She could do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, so one day she said, “Let’s go watch the leaves change.”
“Not much of that in National City,” Kara had said, not looking up from her laptop.
Lena was flipping channels when she made the suggestion, another pedestrian activity that had been too far beneath her to ever indulge during her CEO days.
“I’m serious,” said Lena. “I’ll rent us a cabin, book a flight, and we’ll be there by tomorrow morning. Vermont, or maybe New Hampshire.”
Kara looked up. “I could just fly us.”
“Short distances only,” said Lena.
Kara weighed it for a moment. She looked at Lena for a drawn out instant, eyes darting this way and that. Lena knew she had a deadline; she had become privy to the details of Kara’s life ever since she started couch surfing at Kara’s place after dumping her chic penthouse on some petroleum heir from the Emirates.
She had been “crashing” at Kara’s place for three months and had her own key, but they weren’t talking about it. Lena had remained on the couch, falling asleep to YouTube videos of molten lava and cat purring sounds, while Kara puttered around the house.
There were moments of tension. Pauses during shared meals. Moments when they pressed closed on sofa, times when Kara got up to go to bed and Lena felt this yearning to follow that she never quite obeyed.
Kara was thinking. Hard.
“Rent a cabin?”
“Yeah, someplace remote. So you can take a break. You’ve been working harder than ever, Darling. It almost feels like you’re avoiding me.”
Kara swallowed. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll fly. The regular way.”
They did, arriving in Maine less than a day later. Lena rented a Land Rover (because they were on an Adventure) and did all the driving, three hours from the airport to the cabin.
Kara rode in silence, though Lena heard her gasp.
The trees were beautiful. They were alive with color, as if an impressionist master had made the world a canvas and run riot. It was more than a mass of reds and yellows and oranges. It was astonishing.
It was dark when they arrived at the cabin. Lena had chosen one with two bedrooms, though she hesitated when she did. It had a full kitchen with a gas stove and all the amenities but also a fire pit and picnic table and gazebo, and overlooked a private swath of a small lake. It was like something out of a Bob Ross painting.
They were both tired from the flight, or at least Lena was, and turned in right away. When she rose the next day, she cheerily told her cabin-mate she was headed into town to get some supplies.
Kara went out to chop wood. Lena, of course, watched a few swings before leaving. Kara didn’t really need an axe but Lena didn’t care; she was preoccupied watching the muscles of Kara’s shoulders and back as she swung the splitting maul.
Lena got back before noon and carried the groceries inside, enough for her to use the fancy kitchen to prepare a mighty feast for her companion.
She didn’t hear the sobs until she had most of it put away. Lena bolted to the back door and stopped.
Kara was sitting on the picnic table, feet resting on the long board that acted as a seat. She was holding a single golden leaf on her hand, studying it and sobbing softly to herself.
“Kara?”
She looked up, soft blue eyes wet with tears. Lena felt a wave of grief but also panic, rushing to the table.
“Kara, what’s wrong?”
“I,” Kara started. “Lena, I’m scared.”
Lena swallowed hard. “Why?”
Kara looked at the leaf. “Another year past. The leaves turn colors and fall, school starts, things change.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Alex is married now. They’ve got a kid to raise. Nia and Brainy will probably get married soon. We hadn’t had a game night in two months.”
Lena swallowed. Kara was right. When Lena had first joined, then rejoined, this wonderful found family had been aggressively social, and now they forgot to text as often as not. They all spent more time at home or at their real jobs than at the Tower. The world had just started moving on. Kara didn’t even wear the cape every day anymore.
“I know,” said Lena, her voice thick. “But you’ve got me.”
Lena felt her pulse start to race. Kara had been so distant, she couldn’t help wonder if she was enough. If boring, retired Lena wasn’t enough. Oh God, what if Kara was thinking about going to Argo? Or the future?
“Not forever,” said Kara, her voice cracking like glass. She let the leaf drop from her fingers. “Eventually you’ll go. All of you. Brainy, Nia, Alex, Clark if he doesn’t come back from Argo. You.”
“Oh,” Lena said, softly. “Oh, Kara.”
“I think I might be immortal,” Kara whispered. “I don’t feel any aches or pains. Nothing about me changes. I don’t forget things like people do. My body just keeps repairing itself and it never makes any mistakes. What if I’m just like this forever? Or even a thousand years? What if everyone is gone and their kids are gone and no one knows who I am anymore?!” she was frantic now, the words coming too fast.
Lena reached out, tentatively. She put her hands on Kara’s shoulders and pulled herself in, wrapping her best friend in a hug.
Birds chirped, the waters of the lake made soft glug-glugs, and all around them was the soft tapping sound of the leaves, already letting go.
“I won’t leave you,” Lena whispered. “Kara, I won’t. If I have to live forever I will. I’ll find a way. Tech, magic, fifth dimensional imps. I’ll find a way.”
Kara sighed, arms firmly around her.
“Do you need space?” Lena asked. “I could leave you alone for a bit. Look for a place when we get back, so I’m not on the couch all the time.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” Kara blurted, almost cutting her off. “I know I’ve been distant, it’s just… I keep looking at you and thinking about all the time I’ve lost and all the mistakes I’ve made and how I’ll regret it forever. We have so little time and I’m so scared I’ll lose you.”
Lena pulled back to look at her. “We have a long time to make more memories. As many as we can.”
“I’ll lose you too,” said Kara. “I know you want more. A family, a partner. You’ll start to have less time for me. You’ll all just fall away and I’ll be stuck here alone.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“How can you say that?”
Kara started to pull away. Lena stopped her with a tug on her arms. It stunned her, sometimes, how she could overpower a god with her tiny human hands. How she could stun the other whirlwind or a touch.
“Kara,” said Lena. “I don’t want someone else. I want you.”
“Me?” Kara squeaked.
Lena cleared her throat. “I wanted to tell you at the wedding. I mean, I didn’t dress like that and go stag for the hell of it. I just lost my nerve and you seemed so overwhelmed.”
Kara blinked a few times.
“You want me?” said Kara.
Lena felt a cold rush of terror. She’d just blurted it out, artlessly, unplanned.
“Like want me want me? Like kissing want me?”
Lena licked her lips. “Yes. I’d like to kiss you right now, if you let me.”
Kara settled back into the table, leaning forward. Lena leaned in, pushing her back slightly, moving her hands from shoulders to hips, scoring the way Kara tensed and trembled. She was hardly inexperienced, Lena knew, but something about this felt like a first kiss, even for her. It tasted like one, too, down to the quivery way their lips met.
Kissing quickly became something more. Lena didn’t know if she was pulling or Kara pushing. It didn’t much matter; the path led to the bed in Kara’s room, marked by a trail of shed clothing.
Years of anticipation overwhelmed them both; dinner was forgotten, and they didn’t even emerge until the next day.
It was in the morning sun, the light turning Kara’s skin gold, that Lena saw it. Twisted within one of the curling locks of hair, splayed around Kara’s head on the pillow, was a faintly visible thread of purest silver, chased through the gold like an engraver’s masterpiece. Lena couldn’t help but twirl the errant strands around her finger.
As Kara slept, she looked up through the window and watched the wind as it caressed the leaves.
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wbbfannnnnn13 · 7 days ago
Text
Almost Always // Chapter 16
A/N: Finally finished this chapter, low key was just feeling some type of way, so this is a pretty steamy chapter... but there is still plot I promise! We're getting close to the end of the series, probably going to make the next 2 chapters a little longer to close it out at 18, but we'll see, sometimes I'll get random ideas while writing. Also shoutout to the anon who came up with the idea for the end of this chapter :)
WC: 5.7K+
Warnings: Minors DNI, Smut (like most of this chapter is just that so sorry if you aren't into that -- I haven't written it much, but sometimes it just be fun to so yeah), Cussing
Chapter 16: Always Been Yours 
The food containers were still open, their contents half-finished, crumpled napkins and wooden chopsticks strewn across Paige’s coffee table like soft remnants of a night that hadn’t rushed. A half-burned candle flickered beside an empty water glass, its wax pooling slow and lazy in the dish. The playlist hummed low in the background—smooth, crackling R&B threading beneath the city noise outside, like the room had found its own pulse.
The TV was off. Phones untouched. No distractions left—just the two of them, curled into the couch like gravity had drawn them back together on instinct. Their legs were tangled in that effortless, familiar way. The scent of sesame, jasmine rice, and melted candle wax clung to the air like memory. Everything around them felt lived-in again. Like the pause had ended and they were finally letting themselves press play.
Azzi leaned back against the armrest, her legs stretched across the couch and tangled with Paige’s. A half-laugh slipped from her lips—soft, easy, like the echo of something funny Paige had said a minute ago. But it didn’t reach her eyes. Not fully. There was a flicker there, something too alert, like her mind hadn’t let go of the last thread of silence between them.
“So…” Paige started, voice low, thumb rubbing over Azzi’s knee like she was grounding them both. “The press conference.”
Azzi’s jaw tensed. “You watched the whole thing?”
Paige nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I saw it when it started making the rounds. You were a little fired up, but nothing wrong with that. 
Azzi let out a short laugh. “Tell that to the media.”
“I’m not talking about them,” Paige said quietly. “I’m talking about me.”
That gave Azzi pause. Her gaze dropped to her hands. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I wasn’t trying to cause anything… it just happened. I was tired and frustrated, and the question hit harder than I thought. And then it was everywhere.”
“They always ask about me,” Paige said, quieter this time. “Even when it’s not about me.”
Azzi let out a short laugh, no humor in it. “Story of my life, right?”
Paige’s voice dropped. “I wish it wasn’t. I really do.”
Azzi studied her for a moment. “It gets tiring, you know? Always feeling like I’m the afterthought. Like I have to push just to be noticed. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that… but maybe I needed to let it out.”
Paige nodded again, slower this time. “I know. And for what it’s worth, I think the people who matter understood…”
Azzi chewed on her lip. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be upset. Like I threw shade at you or something.”
“You didn’t,” Paige said firmly. “You were telling your truth. I can respect that, even if it stings a little.”
Azzi tilted her head. “It stung?”
Paige exhaled. “Not because of what you said. Because it reminded me how much I’ve taken for granted. I’m always saying I’ve got your back, but I haven’t always stepped out of the spotlight when I should have.”
“That’s not your fault,” Azzi said, her voice softening. “People gravitate to you naturally. You’ve always had that kind of light. And I love that about you.”
“I don’t want my light to dim yours,” Paige said.
Azzi shook her head, voice steady now. “It doesn’t. But I think I needed to say it out loud to believe that. And maybe to remind you too.”
They let the silence stretch, not awkward, just full—like the air between them needed time to recalibrate. Outside, a siren wailed faintly in the distance, and somewhere below, a dog barked once, sharp and distant. Paige’s thumb was still tracing lazy circles against Azzi’s knee.
Azzi leaned her head back, eyes on the ceiling. “You know… I used to think being next to you meant I had to shrink a little. Make space.”
Paige turned, her brows drawing together.
“But tonight?” Azzi said, glancing at her with the faintest smile. “Doesn’t feel like that.”
Paige’s hand stilled. A slow smile tugged at her mouth, something quiet and grateful blooming in her chest.
“I’m really proud of you,” she said.
Azzi bumped her knee against Paige’s. “Even after I completely crashed out?”
Paige snorted. “Especially after that.”
Azzi laughed, the sound finally real. Paige grinned, the tension between them softening into something easier, lighter.
And then Paige leaned back, resting her arm behind Azzi’s shoulders, a teasing glint in her eye.
“Well,” she said, “guess it’s official. I’m in my WAG era now.”
Azzi raised an eyebrow, amused. “Your what?”
Paige grinned. “WAG era. You know—wives and girlfriends. Courtside fits. Sappy Instagram captions. Giving unsolicited but elite game notes between film sessions.”
Azzi laughed, shaking her head as she leaned into Paige’s side. “You really giving me notes now?”
“Oh, I’ve got a whole doc saved,” Paige said, grinning. “Stuff your coaches don’t even see.”
Azzi tilted her head. “You been watching my film like that?”
Paige nodded, her voice dropping just slightly. “Every game. Can’t help it. I see things. Like when your shot’s just a little off because your balance is too front-loaded. Or how you hesitate when your defender goes under the screen—but you shouldn’t. You’ve got the range.”
Azzi stilled, the smile lingering, but her eyes softening. “You really do that?”
“I know your game,” Paige said. “I’ve always known it. Probably better than I know my own.”
Azzi didn’t respond right away, but her hand found Paige’s where it rested on her leg. She laced their fingers together, slow and intentional.
“You know how hot that is, right?”
Paige’s laugh was low, surprised. “Giving scouting tips?”
Azzi leaned in, their foreheads nearly brushing. “Yeah. That. You believing in me like that.”
Paige’s thumb brushed over the back of her hand. “Always have.”
Azzi’s eyes dropped, just for a second—to the faded TEAM AZZI jersey hanging loose on Paige’s frame, like it belonged there all along. Her breath hitched.
“I can’t believe you still have that,” she said, her voice soft, touched.
Paige glanced down, then back up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Couldn’t get rid of this.”
Azzi shook her head, smile growing. “You’re unreal.”
Paige leaned in, her voice warm and low. “Only when it comes to you.”
The space between them pulsed with something heavier now—tender, sure, but charged, like a current they’d both stopped trying to resist. Time felt slower, quieter, like the world beyond Paige’s living room had slipped into another frequency.
Paige’s free hand drifted to Azzi’s waist, her touch feather-light, deliberate. Not rushed. Like she was learning the shape of her all over again, memorizing muscle and breath and warmth. Her fingertips traced just beneath the hem of Azzi’s sweatshirt, brushing against skin—soft, electric, familiar.
Azzi inhaled, slow and shallow, her eyes never leaving Paige’s. Her heart thudded in her chest, not from surprise but from the gravity of it—how every inch closer felt like something she’d been aching toward for months.
Paige leaned in, their knees still touching, her forehead nearly resting against Azzi’s. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. Everything was in her touch, in the way her thumb circled slow and steady over Azzi’s side, grounding and inviting all at once.
The silence between them wasn’t empty. It was full of heat and history and want.
Azzi tilted her head, her voice barely a whisper. “So what’s the next play?”
Paige leaned in until her lips nearly brushed Azzi’s. “Pretty sure it starts with this.”
Azzi’s hand lifted, fingers finding the curve of Paige’s jaw, anchoring there like she needed something solid. Her thumb brushed over Paige’s cheekbone.
Paige turned her head just enough to press a kiss against Azzi’s palm, a breath of contact that made Azzi’s stomach twist in that aching, familiar way. Like falling, but steadier. Like breathing, but deeper.
Azzi leaned in first, closing the last sliver of space between them, her lips brushing against Paige’s—tentative, testing. A question asked in touch rather than words.
Paige answered without hesitation, tilting her head and pressing in with a slow, deliberate kiss that sent a shiver sliding down Azzi’s spine. It was nothing like urgency. It was a slow burn, the kind of kiss that deepened with every heartbeat, with every tiny shift closer.
Paige’s hand splayed wider at Azzi’s waist, tugging her gently across the couch until Azzi was half-straddling her, knees bracketing Paige’s hips. Their bodies slotted together like they were made for it. Because they were.
Azzi pulled back just enough to look at her, their foreheads brushing, breaths mingling in the slivered space between them.
“I missed you,” she whispered, voice raw around the edges.
Paige’s hands were already moving, slow and deliberate, gliding up her back beneath the loose hem of her shirt. Her touch sparked across Azzi’s skin like memory made real. “I’m right here, baby,” she whispered back.
Azzi kissed her again—deeper this time. It was messier now, more certain, like neither of them wanted to waste another second pretending they didn’t need this. Her hands slipped beneath Paige’s jersey, dragging up the fabric until her fingers brushed bare skin.
Paige let out a soft, breathy laugh against her mouth. “Wait,” she murmured, smiling. “Aren’t we supposed to be working through our emotional baggage or something?”
Azzi pulled back just far enough to smirk. “You wanna pause and unpack feelings while I’m on top of you?”
Paige tilted her head, grinning. “I mean... no… but we gotta talk about all the feelings and shit at some point.”
Azzi laughed, low and warm. “Okay, well... here’s one feeling I can definitely name.”
She shifted her hips, slow and deliberate, until her body pressed flush against Paige’s. Paige inhaled sharply, her grin faltering into something needier.
“Thought so,” Azzi said, voice soft and smug.
Paige’s hands flexed at her waist, pulling her closer. “You’re a menace,” she murmured.
“And you love it.”
“Yeah,” Paige whispered, just before Azzi kissed her again—longer this time, deeper, tongue brushing against hers in a way that made her head fall back against the cushions.
Their laughter dissolved into something heavier, the space between them folding in until there was nothing left to hold back. The conversation could wait. 
Azzi leaned back to take her in—bare skin, steady eyes, that open, unguarded smile that was only ever for her.
Paige let her look, let her linger, her hands gliding slow and steady up Azzi’s thighs, under her sweatshirt now, mapping familiar territory.
Azzi shivered at the contact, not from cold but from how easily Paige made her feel known. Undone.
“You’re so beautiful,” Paige said, voice hoarse with it.
Azzi bent down and kissed her again, harder this time, pouring all the months of missed moments and the weight of uncertainty into the press of her mouth. Paige’s hands found their way under her shirt, pushing it higher until Azzi had to pull back just long enough to yank it off over her head, tossing it somewhere behind the couch.
They kissed like they had time to make up for. Like they had something to prove and something to promise all at once.
Paige’s hands explored without hurry, fingers trailing down Azzi’s back, over the curve of her hips, savoring. Azzi’s breath hitched as Paige's mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, to the pulse point just beneath her ear, each kiss a quiet vow.
Azzi pulled her even closer, no space left between them, her hands threading through Paige’s hair as Paige mapped a slow, aching path down her neck.
She was dizzy from it—in the best way. Like Paige was everywhere at once: hands, mouth, breath, heartbeat.
“Paige,” Azzi whispered, like a prayer, a plea, a homecoming.
Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, her thumb brushing Azzi’s lower lip.
“I still can’t believe you’re mine,” she murmured, voice thick with awe.
Azzi smiled, soft and sure, pressing her forehead to Paige’s. “I’ve always been yours.”
Paige kissed her again, and then they were moving together—shedding the last of the space, the last of the clothes—until it was only skin and breath and the quiet symphony of two hearts finally, finally beating in rhythm.
Azzi was the first to lean back, just far enough to let her eyes trail over Paige—bare, warm, flushed from neck to hip in candlelight. She traced her fingers lightly down the center of her chest, watching the goosebumps rise in their wake.
“God, you’re unreal,” Azzi murmured.
Paige’s hands slid along the backs of her thighs, pulling her closer again, until Azzi was straddling her completely, pressed flush and trembling in all the right ways. “So are you,” Paige whispered, voice husky. “You always have been.”
Azzi leaned in to kiss her again—deeper this time, more searching. Her hips rolled, instinctive and aching, and Paige’s breath caught, fingers digging gently into her skin.
Paige’s mouth broke from hers only to move lower, dragging slow, open-mouthed kisses along Azzi’s throat, her collarbone, her chest—each one softer than the last, like she was marking every inch with devotion, not desperation.
Azzi’s head tipped back, a shaky breath catching in her chest, her whole body attuned to every point where Paige touched her. Paige’s hands moved deliberately, one sliding up to cup the swell of her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple in slow, teasing circles that made Azzi’s stomach tighten. The other hand gripped her hip, firm but coaxing, guiding her into a slow, grinding rhythm against her lap. Azzi gasped, a low, helpless sound rising from the back of her throat, her hands threading into Paige’s hair, tugging just enough to ground herself as her body arched into Paige’s touch. Heat pooled low in her belly, each roll of her hips sending sparks skittering up her spine, each brush of Paige’s thumb setting her nerves alight like a fuse burning closer and closer to detonation.
“You feel so good,” Paige breathed, her voice barely more than air.
Azzi nodded, too far gone for words. She could only feel—Paige’s mouth closing around her nipple, warm and wet and consuming, her tongue flicking in slow strokes before her teeth scraped lightly against the sensitive peak. The jolt of pleasure ripped through Azzi’s body, making her hips stutter against Paige’s lap. 
Paige groaned low in her throat at the reaction, the sound vibrating through Azzi’s chest and making her whimper. Her hand never stopped moving, gripping Azzi’s waist, guiding her grinding rhythm harder, slower, deeper… anchoring her even as she came undone. Every suck, every graze of teeth, every slow, punishing roll of her hips dragged Azzi closer to the edge, her thighs trembling.
When Paige laid her back on the couch cushions, Azzi went willingly, pulling her down with her. They moved together like muscle memory, like instinct honed over the years spent together. Her thighs fell open instinctively, wide and wanting, her body practically pulling her under. She wrapped her legs around Paige’s hips, the motion fluid—her heels digging in like she couldn’t stand to be apart for even a second.
“Fuck,” Azzi breathed, head falling back, fingers twisting into the couch cushion, chest rising and falling like she’d just sprinted the length of the court.
Paige groaned against her neck, the sound low and wrecked. Her hands slid up Azzi’s legs, slow and firm, thumbs brushing dangerously close to the heat between her thighs. Every movement was intentional. Focused. Like Paige knew exactly what Azzi needed and was going to make her feel every second of it.
Paige shifted lower between Azzi’s legs, the couch dipping with her movement. Nothing between them now—no fabric, no friction lost in layers—just bare skin and the kind of tension that tasted like electricity in the air. Azzi was open beneath her, thighs already slick and parted around Paige’s shoulders like her body had been waiting for this.
Paige dragged her palms up Azzi’s thighs again, slower this time, fingers curling just slightly to grip and ground her, to hold her there. She pressed a kiss to the crease where thigh met hip, then another—so close it made Azzi gasp, hips twitching up, needing more.
“Paige,” she breathed, not even a plea—just her name, wrecked and wanting.
Paige didn’t make her wait anymore.
She leaned in and dragged her tongue through Azzi’s folds in one slow, unbroken stroke—flat, deliberate, claiming. A low moan vibrated from Paige’s throat at the taste, like it knocked the air from her lungs. Azzi cried out, sharp and unguarded, her hips jerking up into the contact. Her fingers flew to Paige’s hair, fisting tight, not to guide her—just to hold on. To feel.
But Paige didn’t stop. Didn’t flinch. She ate like she was starving, slow and thorough, her tongue exploring every inch of Azzi’s slick heat. She circled her clit with maddening patience, then flattened her tongue and licked harder, deeper, drawing out each sound that fell from Azzi’s mouth with ruthless precision. Her mouth moved like she knew every response before Azzi gave it—like she'd memorized the way her body spiraled toward climax and was in no rush to get her there.
Azzi was soaked, her thighs trembling on either side of Paige’s head, her whole body tensed and straining. Every flick of Paige’s tongue, every shift in pressure made her moan louder, higher, until she was panting, broken open beneath her.
Paige groaned and sealed her mouth around Azzi’s clit, sucking her in deep, her lips and tongue working in sync—wet, focused, relentless. Her grip on Azzi’s thighs tightened, fingers digging in as she held her still, letting Azzi grind against her face with helpless, desperate rhythm.
Azzi was losing it.
Her head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut, one hand still tangled in Paige’s hair while the other reached back, scrabbling for something to anchor her. “F-fuck, Paige—don't stop—please—”
Paige didn’t. Instead, she groaned against her, voice husky and reverent. “God, you taste so fucking good…”
Saying it out loud only seemed to spur her on more, flicking her tongue faster now, humming softly against her until Azzi’s entire body shook, legs quivering around her ears, every muscle tight and ready to snap. Paige kept her there, right on the edge, until Azzi gasped her name again, raw and shaking, and then—
Paige slid one hand from Azzi’s trembling thigh to between her legs, her fingers slick immediately from how wet she was. She teased her entrance with two fingers, slow and deliberate, feeling Azzi’s body flutter and clench at the anticipation. Then, with a steady, devastating pressure, she pushed inside.
Azzi broke.
A raw, helpless sob escaped her throat as her walls tightened around Paige’s fingers, her whole body bowing up off the couch. Paige didn’t give her time to recover—she found a rhythm immediately, firm and sure, thrusting deep and curling her fingers just right, dragging against that spot that made Azzi see stars.
“Oh my god—Paige—" Azzi gasped, voice cracking as her hips rolled in frantic, uneven circles, chasing the pressure, the pleasure.
Paige’s mouth stayed locked to her clit, tongue circling in slow spirals that matched the rhythm of her fingers—press, curl, retreat—over and over until Azzi was spiraling, caught between the overwhelming drag of her mouth and the relentless thrust of her hand.
Azzi was gone.
Her back arched violently, thighs shaking around Paige’s head, heels digging into the couch cushions as if she could anchor herself against the onslaught. One hand yanked Paige’s hair, hard enough to make her groan into her, the other grabbing at the edge of the sofa, knuckles white with the effort of holding on.
The heat inside her coiled tighter, impossibly tight, until it felt like every nerve ending in her body was on fire, every breath a broken moan.
“Paige—fuck—I’m gonna—” she cried, voice wrecked, desperate.
Paige moaned against her, the sound sending vibrations straight through Azzi’s core, and that was it.
Azzi shattered.
Her orgasm slammed into her, fast and brutal, ripping a ragged scream from her chest. Her body convulsed, thighs squeezing tight around Paige’s head, spine arching like a drawn bow before collapsing back into the cushions. She came hard, clenching around Paige’s fingers, her whole body trembling, helpless against the waves tearing through her.
Paige didn’t stop. She rode it out with her, fingers still thrusting slow and deep, tongue still dragging lazy, grounding circles against her clit, coaxing every last aftershock until Azzi was sobbing into the crook of her arm, too wrecked to speak, too full to breathe.
Only when Azzi’s legs finally went limp around her did Paige ease her mouth away, withdrawing her fingers with a slow, careful slide that left Azzi whimpering at the sudden loss.
When Paige finally pulled back, her mouth was wet, her lips swollen and parted, her eyes glazed with heat and something deeper, something that felt dangerously close to reverence. She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, slow and sure, then tilted her head with a crooked smile. “Did I do okay?” she asked, voice low and teasing—like she didn’t need the answer, but wanted to hear it anyway.
Azzi let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-moan, her fingers still tangled in the sheets. “You know damn well you did,” she said, her voice wrecked and full of wonder. “Stop fishing for compliments and come back here.”
Slowly, Paige crawled back up her body, dragging open-mouthed kisses along Azzi’s stomach, her ribs, the underside of her breasts. She kissed every inch like she couldn’t stand the thought of leaving any part of her untouched, like she was stitching her back together one kiss at a time.
Azzi threaded her fingers through Paige’s hair the second she was close enough, tugging her up the rest of the way, pulling her into a kiss that was messy and all-consuming. She could taste herself on Paige’s tongue—salty, slick, electric—but it only made her moan into her mouth, deepening it, needing her closer, needing all of her.
Paige kissed her back just as hungrily, her hands cradling Azzi’s face, like she was something too precious to hold roughly. Azzi could feel the tremble still running through Paige’s body—the leftover tension, the want—and it only made her heart beat harder against her ribs.
When they finally broke apart, breathless, their foreheads pressed together, noses brushing in the smallest, sweetest touch.
“God, I love you,” Azzi whispered, her voice thick with everything she couldn’t say out loud.
Paige’s smile was soft and wrecked and impossibly full of love. She tucked a hand into her curls and kissed the side of her head. “I love you. So much.”
They stayed like that, tangled and breathless, until Azzi’s hands began to wander again, slow and sure and full of promise.
And Paige let her.
She lay back, one arm still loosely around Azzi’s shoulders, the other sliding across her lower back. Her chest rose and fell beneath Azzi’s touch, soft breaths that caught slightly as Azzi kissed her collarbone, then lower, retracing the path Paige had taken not long before, but with her own rhythm. Her own intent.
Azzi shifted until she was hovering over her, eyes locked with Paige’s, lips brushing just beneath her jaw. “I want to take my time,” she whispered, voice low and steady. “I want to memorize you.”
“You already have,” Paige murmured back, dazed and aching. “But I won’t stop you.” Then, grinning, she added, “Just don’t take too long, you know patience isn’t my strong suit.”
Azzi smiled—barely there, soft and wrecked—and then kissed her. Slow. Deep. Like she was trying to carve herself into Paige’s memory cell by cell.
She kissed down her neck, her chest, her stomach, dragging her hands along the curve of Paige’s sides, pausing only to drink in the way Paige moved under her touch—how her fingers flexed against the fabric of the couch, how her breath hitched when Azzi’s tongue flicked against her skin.
Azzi didn’t rush. She worshipped.
When she reached Paige’s thighs, she kissed the inside of one, then the other, and smiled against the skin when Paige whispered something half-sounded, half-broken.
She looked up, eyes meeting Paige’s. “You good?”
Paige gave a shaky laugh, her hand threading through Azzi’s curls. “If I wasn’t, that’d be on me.”
Azzi kissed the inside of her thigh again, slower this time, higher. “Just checking.”
And then she moved.
Azzi’s tongue met Paige’s center in one long, slow stroke—broad, heavy, deliberate—dragging through her folds with a pressure that made Paige’s hips jerk violently off the couch. A ragged gasp tore from Paige’s mouth, and her hand flew to Azzi’s hair, not just holding, but gripping hard, yanking her closer with a rough, desperate pull like she couldn’t stand even an inch of distance between them.
Azzi groaned into her, the sound vibrating right through Paige’s body, making her legs tremble around Azzi’s shoulders. Without hesitation, Azzi dipped her tongue lower, teasing at Paige’s entrance, swirling and pressing in, shallow and slow, until Paige let out a broken sob, her whole body shaking beneath her. She pulled back just enough to flatten her tongue and lick up through her folds again, relentless, savoring every slick, needy reaction she coaxed out of her.
She knew Paige too well—every sharp inhale, every arch of her back, the way her thighs would start to tremble before she completely lost control. And Azzi was merciless now. She built it slow and brutal: teasing flicks, then firmer, deeper strokes. Her hand slid under Paige’s thigh, gripping hard, tilting her hips higher, giving herself even better access.
She never looked away. Not once.
Azzi locked eyes with her, tongue lashing over her clit now, sucking her into her mouth with a deep, greedy pull that made Paige’s head fall back hard against the cushions.
“Azzi—fuck—” Paige gasped, the sound wrecked, guttural, her hips bucking helplessly against Azzi’s mouth.
Azzi moaned low and obscene against her, holding her hips down as Paige thrashed beneath her. Her other hand slid up Paige’s stomach, rough and claiming, splaying across her ribs, pinning her there, forcing her to feel every second of it.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” Azzi growled against her, her voice thick and wrecked.
Paige couldn’t answer. Couldn’t think. Her body was locking up, hips stuttering wildly, moans turning into breathless, broken whimpers. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, her muscles seizing under the brutal, unrelenting pressure building higher and higher inside her.
And then she broke.
Paige came with a sob that ripped straight from her chest, her body snapping taut like a wire, one hand still yanking Azzi’s hair with shaking, brutal force as the other clung uselessly to the cushions. Pleasure crashed over her, drowning her, her whole body writhing through every wave Azzi pulled from her with her mouth, her tongue, her hands still holding her steady, grounding her while she shattered.
Azzi didn’t stop—just stayed with her, easing her down, kissing her through the aftershocks until Paige finally collapsed back into the couch, gasping, wrecked, her body trembling with every shallow, unsteady breath.
Azzi kissed her thigh one last time, then climbed back up slowly, gently, brushing sweaty strands away from Paige’s temple as she curled against her.
They stayed like that, tangled and warm, breathing each other in.
Paige opened her eyes, dazed and still catching her breath. “That was—”
Azzi kissed her. “Yeah,” she said. “I know.”
Paige blinked, then let out a slow, contented laugh. “You trying to kill me?”
Azzi grinned, brushing her nose against hers. “Little bit.”
They lay in silence after that—bare, glowing, the candlelight flickering low and soft. The world outside felt far away. All that existed was this—skin, breath, heartbeats synced again after too long apart.
Eventually, they stirred, limbs slow and heavy, like moving through water. Still dazed from the gravity of being back in each other’s orbit, they crawled beneath the sheets, laughter soft and breath hitching when their skin brushed again. Paige pulled Azzi in close, foreheads touching, fingers laced at their chests.
Nothing else was said. Just the quiet settling of something whole.
Sleep took them like that—warm, wrapped in each other, the ache finally quiet.
********
Morning came slow.
Light filtered in through the half-open blinds, painting soft golden stripes across the bedroom. The air felt still, warm, thick with the lingering haze of last night—skin, sweat, something sweeter in the spaces between. 
Azzi woke first.
Paige was still curled beside her, facing the window, one arm draped loosely across the sheets, her face half-buried in the pillow. Her hair was a mess—soft and wild from sleep, still tangled from Azzi’s hands the night before. There were marks, too—small, pink, fading already, but hers. Evidence of everything they’d said with touch before words caught up.
She looked peaceful. Like sleep was holding her gently.
Azzi blinked slowly, the morning light soft against her face, her body still heavy with afterglow. Her thighs ached. So did her jaw. Her skin felt warm in all the places Paige had kissed, had held, had taken her apart. But it wasn’t discomfort—it was something she wanted to hold onto. A lived-in ache. The kind that made the night before feel more real, more permanent. Like a page turned down in a book, she didn’t want to lose her place in.
Careful not to wake her, Azzi slipped out of bed. Paige stirred a little, mumbling something that never formed into words before settling again. Azzi smiled to herself, tugging on the white T-shirt draped over the chair—Paige’s shirt, soft from too many washes—and padded quietly through the apartment.
The plan wasn’t much. Just something small.
She’d grab coffee from the shop around the corner—Paige’s usual, maybe one of those buttery croissants she always claimed were “too much” and then somehow still finished. Something thoughtful. Something normal.
Her steps were quiet against the wood floors, the rhythm of her movement careful, like she didn’t want to disturb the tenderness still hanging in the air. The apartment was dim, lit only by the soft wash of morning light spilling in from the kitchen window, catching on dust motes and the edge of a candle left half-melted. It smelled like citrus and clean laundry—Paige’s scent woven into the air now, too. It was domestic. Lived-in. The kind of warmth that wrapped around you without asking. And something about that—about how right it felt—made Azzi’s chest pull tight in ways she couldn’t name.
She crossed to the dresser, tugging open the top drawer in search of clean underwear.
And then she saw it.
Tucked beneath a folded pair of socks, subtle but undeniably there—
Azzi froze.
Her hand hovered above it, fingers trembling slightly, caught in the hesitation between instinct and wonder. The air around her felt different—charged, like the pause before a question is asked that could change everything. The quiet of the apartment wasn’t hollow, but full—weighted with the echo of last night, of closeness still lingering in the sheets and on her skin. Everything else—the dresser, the soft hum of morning, the golden light bleeding in through the window—faded just enough to make space for this one suspended moment. One she hadn’t expected, but couldn’t look away from.
There it was. 
A box small enough to hide, yet heavy with possibility. And all at once, Azzi wasn’t sure if she was afraid… or if she was just stunned by the shape of a future she hadn’t let herself imagine until now.
She didn’t need to open it. Her fingers didn’t even graze the lid. She already knew what it was.
She knew from the shape. She knew from the weight in her chest. She knew from the way every single part of her started buzzing, like her body was trying to have six reactions at once.
Her heart picked up speed. She glanced over her shoulder toward the bed, half-expecting Paige to be standing there, watching her. But she was still asleep. Still quiet. 
It’s probably not even what I think, she told herself. It could be earrings. It could be something from her mom. Could be anything.
But she knew better.
She reached out and picked it up, slowly, carefully, like it might burn her. It was light. The light blue velvet soft against her palm. Her thumb brushed the edge of the lid, not opening it, but thinking about opening it—fighting herself with every second that passed.
She didn’t want to overthink it.
Didn’t want to pick it apart or rush toward some answer she wasn’t meant to have yet.
So she set the box back exactly where she found it, tucking it beneath the socks with gentle, almost reverent fingers. Then she closed the drawer—softly, firmly—like sealing a secret she wasn’t ready to open.
Not yet.
Because maybe it was what she thought it was. And maybe that wasn’t terrifying. Maybe it was just… a lot. A future pressed into velvet. A truth still waiting for its right moment.
She stood there for a beat, steadying herself. Then smoothed the hem of Paige’s shirt down over her thighs and turned toward the bathroom, moving on instinct. She brushed her hair back into a loose bun, splashed cold water on her face, and dabbed the corners of her eyes where sleep still lingered. No makeup, no real effort—just enough to feel like herself again.
She found clean underwear, tugged on leggings, slipped into Paige’s slides by the door. Everything was a little too big, a little too lived-in, and somehow perfect.
When she finally stepped outside, the cool morning air met her with a kind of clarity she hadn’t expected—crisp, grounding, alive. It helped.
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