#managing difficult clients
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Client relationships can make or break your business, but they don’t need to break you. Learn how to manage emotions, spot toxic interactions, and maintain mental and physical well-being when dealing with challenging clients.
#avoiding client conflict escalation#bad client relationships#business emotional intelligence#business stress management#client communication strategies#client conflict resolution#client relationship tips#dealing with combative clients#dealing with toxic clients#detaching from negative clients#emotional well-being for entrepreneurs#entrepreneur emotional health#handling client personality conflicts#how to de-escalate client conflicts#identifying client red flags#letting go of toxic clients#managing client emotions#managing client expectations#managing difficult clients#mental health for entrepreneurs#mental health in business#physical stress from clients#spotting toxic client signs#tips for client boundaries
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A couple of coworkers are arguing about competencies and processes in a task i was by mistake assigned to some time ago so im still getting notifications and now im looking at the emails with their comments coming in like 👀
#cael posting#ahh the *redacted* of working in a corporation#there is a long standing beef between this team of traffic manager and project manager and another team of client service people#every time im accidentally exposed to their fighting im like 👀🍿#can you tell there isnt much excitement going on socially there#last time there was some beef it was because one of the fellow devs was stubborn and stupid and the project manager swore at him apparently#i was not there. and the reason it happened at all was because i got assigned to a different project#and that other dev was being difficult about working on the projects im usually working on#ive never heard that project manager swear at anyone before. all she ever does is gush at me for being a perfect angel at work and-#-how did it happen that im nota senior dev yet. clearly i deserve it#so far ive managed to contain myself to not tell her 'madam im very stupid' and how i should not be given a senior role yet#and i just thank her for the compliments#anyway this fighting is highly entertaining and im being nosy while avoiding my current responsibilities a bit
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Hi. My Instagram might look really pretty but there's a very high chance I will get murdered tomorrow by a rude Japanese lady and I'm absolutely terrified
#i love having japanese (& korean!) clients 90% of the time because most of them are lovely and great to work with#but the japanese have so many unwritten rules and some of them absolutely make no sense and make work a lot more difficult than it should be#and one of them is gonna get me murdered tomorrow because it put me in a situation that i could not fix in any possible way#without mortally offending one person or the other#and now one of them is gonna find out tomorrow most likely DURING OUR MEETING and it's a really rude lady#and I'm so scared it's gonna ruin our relationship with them and my job forever like genuinely#(my manager knows but she was like yea can't do anything about it so now I'm gonna be in the shits on my own)#I'll really have to try not to cry wish me luck 🥲😭🥲😭🥲😭🥲😭
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How Irish Estate Agents Can Deal with Difficult Clients
In the fast-paced world of Irish real estate, dealing with clients is a daily activity. While many interactions are smooth and rewarding, some clients can pose unique challenges. Knowing how to effectively manage difficult clients is essential for estate agents looking to build long-term relationships, protect their reputation, and ensure successful transactions. In this guide, we explore strategies on how Irish estate agents can deal with difficult clients, while showcasing tools like FindQo.ie that can support agents in navigating these situations.
#Irish estate agents#Dealing with difficult clients#Property management tips#Estate agent strategies#Handling challenging clients#Real estate conflict resolution#Irish real estate tips#Client communication in real estate#Managing difficult clients in property sales#Customer service in Irish real estate#ireland
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walk the line | jongseong

SUMMARY: park jongseong has one regret and he's spent his entire life atoning for the pain he caused you. when you walk into office under the premise of working together, he's only got one shot to make things right before it's too late.
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
#enhypen x reader#jay x reader#jongseong x reader#enhypen smut#jay smut#jongseong smut#kpop x reader#kpop smut#park jongseong x reader#park jongseong fanfiction#park jongseong fluff#park jongseong angst#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#fic: walk the line#jay#my writing*
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bonus:
:inhales and slams hands on the desk: akechi. palace. pitch.
disclaimer: the setting for this is all about vibes and aesthetics, it kinda got away from me when i started hashing out the plot around it two months ago so now we're here. in hell. (i'll probably have to make a secondary post i made wayyy too many concepts,)
yes i made an ost for this idea, here is a youtube playlist of chill european jazz
AU details under the cut-
Akechi Goro's palace is "Ampitheatrum Doloris”.
KEYWORDS: Akechi Goro, Tokyo Highcourt, Amphitheater
Akechi's psyche is a massive collection of locked doors, puzzles, and contradictions. He wants to be seen but not understood—heard but never known, ect. This makes his palace infiltration a waking nightmare (affectionate).
His palace is made up of five main layers. They each mirror a stage of grief:
1) There is the outer layer of with the appearance of a Venice-esque water canal maze, there is a door that must be opened to reach the entrance to infiltrate the second layer underneath the amphitheater. The puzzle's actually pretty sentimental and revolves around Akechi's interest in literature.
(This layer is depression, Goro mourns what he lost and the fact that the choices he made for the sake of revenge ultimately led to nowhere. This is reflected in how desolate/meandering the outer layer feels, it is the largest and most time consuming part of the palace for this reason. It takes weeks to finish. AKA, Akira and Morgana have a terrible, no good, very bad month of May.)
2) The Labyrinth under the amphitheater; it is full of shadows for the arena champion to use as fodder for the enjoyment of the masses. ‘Loki’ resides here—this layer’s theme loosely plays on the Minotaur myth.
The only way to escape is through a pulley/elevator mechanism which leads to the surface after shattering the Champion’s chains by force. Loki taunts in Old Norse, but gives Akira (and the party by extension) genuine hints on how to escape.
(This layer is anger, Goro is always angry, about the hand he’s been dealt, the futility of his own actions, and the fact that his life has always been a dead end, written in the stars.)
3) The Audience Stands; full of human cognitions and Akechi’s former clients and fans, despite everything, like Sae, he sees them as ‘people’ and is disgusted by them. Their compliments are shallow and empty, surface level like Goro’s facade. Cognition Sae is delegated to a middle manager-type role, and leads Akira and Co. through puzzles.
Different cognitions from Akechi’s shitshow of a childhood throw riddles based around philosophy and the nature of justice at the party, if the answer is ‘wrong’, there’s a mini-boss fight. Answering everything correctly yields a prize—a key, this process is made difficult by all of Robin’s ‘hints’ (which the Thieves can directly ask for) being lies.
(Bargaining. Goro always thought he could still salvage his revenge despite his enemy being essentially invincible, even now deep down he thinks he can salvage all the effort and sacrifices he put in.)
4) The Stage; Robin Hood appears proper instead of in cameo appearances, this is the lead actor's stage. To earn the right to stand with him, Akira has to have to prove his worth in one-on-one combat while showing the crowd a rousing show. The goal is to use the key obtained in the bargaining layer to unlock the Performer's cuffs.
(Denial, Goro doesn’t believe he needs or deserves saving or a life outside of his revenge, he believes there is no other way forward.)
Hereward and the 'treasure' are in the Imperial box area, which I'll save for part 2 of this I think! The second half of this'll have less focus on the environments and more on general plot and character design.
EDIT: here's part two and part three
#goro akechi#persona 5 royal#shuake#akeshu#persona 5 protagonist#akira kurusu#silly little meta joke in there about atlus thanos snapping gravity water and earth enemies out of existence between p2 and p3-5 lo#as always--morgana fucking HATES it here lads#pls hear me out i promise i'm sooo normal about akechi and the tangled mess of slinkys in his brain#akira has a REALLY bad time--the lvl 99 dlc palace experience#i'd make an orpheus joke but that's late stage plot stuff lol#using my illustration degree for fandom crimes once again#striarts#akechi palace au
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tamed - max verstappen (1/4)



୨ৎ : pairing : max verstappen x fem!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : you're a top pr manager tasked with handling the infamous max verstappen, known for his fiery temper and controversial outbursts
୨ৎ : genre : romance, angst, humor ୨ৎ : tws : mild language, unserious bantering, suggestive humor, mentions of alcohol consumption. ୨ৎ : wc : 935
part one | part two | part three | part four | epilogue

You adjust your blazer, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, and take a deep breath. Today's the day you finally meet Max Verstappen, your new and arguably most challenging client. As one of the top PR managers in the biz, you've handled prima donnas and hotheads before, but something tells you Verstappen is going to be a whole new level of difficult.
You stride into the Red Bull Racing headquarters, the polished floors and sleek design a stark contrast to the grit and grime of the racetrack. You're led to a sterile conference room, the air conditioning humming a monotonous tune. You settle into a chair, the leather cool against your skin, and pull out your meticulously crafted PR plan.
The door swings open abruptly, and in walks Max Verstappen. He's even more imposing in person than on screen. Tall, lean, with those intense blue eyes that seem to pierce right through you. He throws himself into a chair across from you, his expression a mix of boredom and irritation.
"So," he drawls, "you're the one they hired to babysit me."
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "I'm your new PR manager, Max. I'm here to help you manage your public image."
He scoffs. "Like I need help with that."
"Everyone can use a little help," you say calmly, meeting his gaze. "Especially when you have a tendency to say whatever pops into your head."
His eyes narrow. "Are you saying I'm stupid?"
"Not at all," you reply smoothly. "I'm saying you're... impulsive. And sometimes, impulsivity can lead to... PR nightmares."
He leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "And you think you can control me?"
"Control you? No," you say with a slight smile. "But I can help you channel that energy, that passion, into something positive. Something that will make your fans love you even more."
He raises an eyebrow. "And what's in it for you?"
"A challenge," you admit. "And the satisfaction of knowing I helped tame the beast."
He lets out a short, harsh laugh. "Tame the beast, huh? Good luck with that."
You spend the next hour outlining your PR strategy. You talk about social media engagement, charitable partnerships, and even suggest some media training to help him handle those pesky interviews. He listens with a detached expression, occasionally interrupting with a sarcastic comment or a dismissive wave of his hand.
Just when you think you're making some headway, he drops a bombshell.
"Look," he says, leaning forward, "I appreciate the effort, but I'm not interested in changing who I am. I say what I think, I do what I want, and if people don't like it, that's their problem."
You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. "Max, I understand that you value your authenticity, but—"
"Authenticity?" he interrupts, his voice rising. "You want authenticity? Fine. Here's some authenticity for you: I think this whole PR thing is a load of crap. I don't need you, or anyone else, to tell me how to behave."
He stands up abruptly, sending his chair scraping against the floor. "If that's all, I have a simulator session to get to."
He turns to leave, but you stop him. "Max, wait—"
He pauses, glancing back at you with an impatient frown.
"Just one thing," you say, holding his gaze. "You might not think you need me, but I'm here to stay. And sooner or later, you're going to realize that I'm not just some PR puppet. I'm here to help you, whether you like it or not."
He stares at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow smile spreads across his face.
"You're feisty," he says, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I'll give you that."
He turns to leave again, but just as he reaches the door, he pauses and looks back at you over his shoulder.
"Oh, and one more thing," he says, his voice low and husky. "Don't get any ideas. This is strictly professional."
And with that, he's gone, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding and a strange mix of frustration and anticipation swirling inside you.
You gather your things, a flicker of annoyance in your eyes. Max's arrogance is almost comical. He'll learn soon enough that you're not just some yes-man, here to stroke his ego. You're here to make him shine, whether he likes it or not.
As you exit the conference room, your footsteps echo in the hallway. You're about to head back to your temporary office when you hear voices drifting from a nearby room. It sounds like Max, his voice laced with that same dismissive tone he used with you.
Curiosity piqued, you slow down, your footsteps barely making a sound on the plush carpet.
"...told her I don't need some PR person breathing down my neck," Max is saying. "It's ridiculous. I know how to handle myself."
A chuckle from another voice, presumably one of his team members. "Yeah, well, good luck explaining that to Helmut after your last press conference."
More laughter.
"Seriously though," Max continues, "this whole thing is a joke. I'm not going to change who I am for some corporate sponsors or some uptight PR—"
He stops abruptly, and you hear the scrape of a chair. You realize you've been eavesdropping and quickly step away from the door, your heart pounding.
You continue down the hallway, your mind racing. So, Max thinks this whole thing is a joke, does he? He thinks you're just some "uptight PR person" who can't handle his "authenticity"?
You might not be able to change who he is, but you can certainly help him present a better version of himself to the world. And you're going to make him see that, even if it's the last thing you do.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x y/n#red bull racing#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble#𐐪♡︎₊˚ ― jungwnies
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He can tell his reassurance hasn't totally cleared up whatever ingrained dislike Ichigo's feeling. Shiro's been called every version of crazy so many times in so many different situations that it doesn't come anywhere near bothering him. Most of the time he finds it amusing. He kind of thinks Ichigo's heard in a few times too, but has the oposite response to it. He nods a small motion, "Yeah, or that." Still a little crazy. Maybe more so, since there apparently wasn't much thought put into it. Not for the first time, he's struck by how loyal and protective Ichigo has become towards him. He probably shouldn't be surprised, he knows how Ichigo is towards friends and family, but even still, Shiro has a hard time fitting himself into that category even though, objectively, he sees that it has happened. He scoffs lightly though, "If you tried to change it, you'd be takin' away things I like about you."
He is actually really offended by that. Not by the suggestion that they wouldn't be able to abstain for that long because that's totally true, but the part about Ichigo planning to avoid him that long. "Tch. You can't avoid me, I would'a hunted you down so fucking fast. We would'a fucked so hard you wouldn't'a been able to walk into the ring let along fight. Avoid me- Ugh. Fuckin' rude. When have I ever been avoidable?"
His brows arch and he looks over at Ichigo again. He would have thought Ichigo would have been turned over if he told his dad the truth. "You ever think about just tellin' him what's goin' on? If he wouldn't turn you in and you're already not livin' at home, where your business could endanger your family-" He kind of trails off with a shrug. "I dunno. You shouldn't take advice from me, I don't know how that shit works."
The click of the seatbelt seems so loud right before there's a hand in his hair and he's being tugged across the middle council. He grunts a surprised sound. It's a miracle he hasn't wrecked his car yet, with the way Ichigo's making a habit of kissing him close to senseless while he's driving. He can't curse because of tongue and teeth and the way every time they touch in literally any way it seems like the air around them might combust, but he groans the sentiment instead.
Seems Ichigo didn’t like that. “I don’t think any of that is false, but you still gotta be a little crazy to go for it. I’d say just a moment of crazy, but you planned it out, so.” He shrugs. Built in crazy. The good kind, though. “I’m not complaining and I don’t mean it in a bad way, just so y’ know. I like how gutsy you are.”
Three quarters of his attention is on the road but the remaining is enough to realize Ichigo’s getting all huffy about his answer. He can’t not smirk about how easy it was to get under Ichigo’s skin. “Ok, woah, you told me a week or more for a fight, but still you’re absolutely right.” He’s not even going to bother pretending he’d hold to that. They couldn’t make it two days when they got their piercings. The only reason it’s been more than 72 hours now is because Ichigo was literally unconscious and in a different city. And practically the first thing Shiro did was send him nudes. There is no hope of pretending to withhold sex.
He sees Ichigo’s point about his dad. “You do live in a trash neighborhood and so does your boyfriend. Sometimes trouble just finds certain people. Probably best not too offer up too much information without prompt though.”
His eyes corner on Ichigo momentarily. “You know I don’t ask nice for anything, but I’m full of plenty'a looks.” Ichigo’s right; they’re going to end up stopping because Ichigo’s too fucked up for car sex right now.
#blacksun#tsp activity check#yes? but also no??#So we did have a tech get fired for being a shitty human being recently#but the real problem is that we're just an incredibly small team#which is great because we all get alone and can work well together and the repeat clients like it because they recognize all of us#and we know them and their pets#but it makes it very difficult to get coverage when anyone calls out or needs time off#In total we have 1 manager 2 receptionists 3 doctors (one of which is the owner) 3 licensed techs and 3 unlicensed techs#so a grand total of 12 people (manager included) to staff an entire full time major urgent care that's open 6 days a week#and we see a higher case load any given day than any of the other urgent cares and some of the ERs in a six hour car ride#AND we have become well enough known and trusted in the medical field that we are the go to for local ERs#who know an animal needs same day care but are diverting because they're at caring capacity#On any given day it's a doctor a receptionist and two or three support staff (depending on weekday vs weekend day) to treat and triage#however many animals call and/or walk through our doors#sorry foR THE NOVEL omg
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reader is a gorgeous gorgeous girl obsessed with Charlotte Tilbury makeup- Spencer of course is always up for spoiling her
fem reader, 18+ for little dirty talk but mostly fluffy fluff, reader cries a little but boyf spence sorts it right out hehe
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
‘Oh my gosh Spencer, look’
Your shoulders were pulled back, hands clasped together, your eyes intently locked on the makeup cabinet in front of you.
This morning, he let you pull him all around the department stores, hands intertwined- but you were the one leading. He loved letting you lead. Especially when you were wearing that cute little pink midi skirt, littered with little flowers that swished when you took a step.
You were just out to buy your skincare products- ‘that’s all’ you told him. But he knew you couldn’t stop your eyes wandering to the more expensive, more luxurious looking products.
‘God, I just wish I had a full collection of Charlotte Tilbury products, Spence. She’s just.. she’s just, so.. me. Don’t you think?’
He smiled, squeezing your hand, of course he agreed. It was like the woman made these products just for you. You were glamorous, a bombshell, even. Each product was adorned with a signature rose gold shine, elegantly shaped containing expensive formulas.
They would be lucky to be owned by you, he thought.
He then spotted a lipstick that had its own little display.
‘Pillow talk, hm. This colour would look so pretty on you, lovely’, looking down at you, scanning your face. God, it would look good on you; the name ‘Pillow Talk’ sending his thoughts a little further than was appropriate for Sunday morning shopping.
He’d love to kiss it off of you. Letting it blur around both of your lips, then maybe you could do a little ‘pillow talk’ of your own-
‘Let me buy you this, please’, Spencer almost pleaded.
A little worried look took over your face.
‘I’m not so sure, Spence... As much as I’d love a gift off of you, it’s a little expensive- don’t you think?’, turning to face him, eyes stay staring at the glowing lipstick display.
‘We’re not doing this again, sweet girl. I work too much to not be able to spend the money on you.’
You don’t argue, because what could be better than receiving your first Charlotte Tilbury product as a sweet gift from your boyfriend?
‘Spence?’
‘Hm?’
‘You can put it on my lips for me when we get home, yeah?’
♡
‘I think we’re going to have to tone down our morning escapades, baby’
Spencer had a short work day today, thank god. He’d been working too much recently- so you enjoyed being his little haven to come home to.
Laughing, turning away from the boiling dinner dish, you walked over to greet him. He looked so yummy in his work clothes.
Your hand reaching out to grab his tie to drag him towards you, into your arms.
‘Why’s that, honey?’, tilting your head to the side like a confused little puppy.
‘Garcia spotted your little lipstick mark on my shirt’.
Oops.
‘It’s hardly my fault is it, Spence? You’re the one that pinned me down just as I was about to leave.’
He hummed, kissing your lips.
‘Oh it’s definitely you’re fault, c’mere’
♡
You’d been having a particularly difficult time at work.
Long days. Annoying clients.
‘I’m just so exhausted, Spence’, you manage to splutter out through tears. He had you wrapped in a little cocoon on your sofa, rocking you back and forth soothingly.
His lips never left the top of your head, little kisses and words of encouragement being uttered into you.
But Spencer knew everything would about to be alright. A little magical surprise that would turn your mood around.
He spotted it whilst shopping online yesterday.
He often saved items that he knew he’d like, he knew you too well.
It just so happened he ordered it at just the right time.
He imagined he could see your heart, it would probably look like this.
Glittered, golden and in the centre, a light pink jewel that looked charged with magic.
‘I think right now would be a good time to tell you that I got you a little gift today’, he admitted, squeezing oh so tighter around your body.
‘A gift?’, lifting your head to look at him.
He felt a little cruel, you looked so pretty when you cried. He wasn’t completely evil! Don’t get him wrong, it’s just.. your cheeks flush, your eyes glisten, and you cling to him like his life depending on it.
‘Yeah, a gift, my pretty girl. I think you’ll be pretty pleased. Open it for me.’
He reached his arm over the side of the sofa, unveiling a nondescript white paper bag.
Inside contained a little cardboard box. Stamped on top, a Charlotte Tilbury signature.
‘You didn’t’
‘Of course I did’ he whispers back.
Slowly taking out the box, unlocking its little paper lock, you were greeted with the cute little tissue paper- ripping it was going to be so fun.
A pink box greeted you, Beauty Soulmates Palette, what gorgeous name.
‘I had to pick between two shades. I know your skin colour by the hexadecimal, which then allowed me to calculate which blush would match the best- but we can always get the other shade if you want, of course you’re allowed to pick something else out if—-‘
‘Oh my God’
Revealing itself from inside the pink box, a golden glowing heart. It cushioned a pink jewel right in the centre of the compact. It was the most beautiful packaging you’d even seen.
Opening it up, the compact to reveal two perfect shades of pink. The formula was going to be the dreamiest thing you put on your skin, you’re sure of it.
‘Spence, oh my god!!!! C’mon, I want you to put it on for me!!!—- oh and then we can do your blush too!!!!’
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#criminal minds#reid#dr reid#reid x reader#criminal minds fic#spencer x reader#spencer reid reader#spencer reid thoughts#Spencer Reid x girly!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you
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Could you do a ENA DREAM BBG short with Reader busting a gut at the Shaman's "go away Ena, and get a life" statement, while Ena is unamused?
"Now...go away, Ena! And get a LIFE!! That shall be your quest for today!!" The Shaman declared, his hands waving around wildly before he vanished back into the machine he came from.
You and Ena stood there for a brief moment, with her staring into the glowing pink pool surrounding the contraption, wondering what this "life" was and how she could acquire it.
But you, on the other hand, couldn't help but crack up.
Hearing the odd sound that left your lips--one that you were desperately trying yet failing to conceal--she turned her head to you, confusion and concern displayed on her face in equal measure.
"Did he just tell you to get a life??? Oh my god--that's.....I'm sorry--" You began laughing hysterically, damn near keeling over as you held your stomach. "That's INSANE. "Get a life"! God, I can't breathe--oh, man.."
"I'm not qualified in CPR training, so please continue breathing..for both our sakes." Ena muttered, unamused as she stood there awkwardly. "Tell me...what was so funny about his request?"
Once you were able to catch your breath, you looked at her, still trying to hold back your giggles. "O-Oh. I forgot..uh..."get a life" is another human idiom. I'll tell you about that one later." You coughed into your fist, finally managing to settle down and not look like a crazy person anymore. "Whew...I'm okay now. Looks like we need to find something he can use to create life. Maybe the witches know a thing or two about that practice. Let's visit them next."
"What insight you have, my friend!" Her Salesperson side grinned. "Let's go check off that box, shall we? And you can enlighten me on this idiom along the way. You're like an endless well of knowledge, and I crave more understanding!"
You weren't sure what to say to that, but it sounded like a compliment, so you just nodded and followed her out of the Seal House.
In less than ten seconds, you've explained the idiom to her. Somehow she manifested a pen and paper from her suspenders, taking long detailed notes about how and when she should appropriately use it--only to throw them away as you approached your next client.
Apparently, her Meanie side didn't like the way she was being spoken to, despite them only saying all but two words to her.
And that was enough for her to draw out the megaphone.
"AT LEAST WE'RE CONTRIBUTING SOMETHING TO SOCIETY!! STOP COMPLAINING AND GET A LIFE, MORON!!"
Once again, you find it difficult to contain your laughter, tears coming to your eyes.
You've trained her well.
#most iconic shaman line ever#joel g cooked with this one#clanask#anonymous#ena x reader#ena dream bbq x reader#dream bbq x reader#platonic
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YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU

✧・. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.
( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.
word count - > 6.6k
authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me!

“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle.
‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72 types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer.
“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.
‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types.
“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.
‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’
“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.”
‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’
You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop.
—
“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.
“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in.
“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”
You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself.
“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.”
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles.
“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening.
“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.”
You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car.
“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car.
“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.”
“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop.
“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...”
“Suguru is coming?” You scream.
“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.”
“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.
“Y/n!” You mom gasps.
“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better.
“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad.
“Sweetheart...”
“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.”
“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket.
“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?”
“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport.
“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior.
“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.”
—
“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.”
“Kay, thanks.” You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.
After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72.
‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.
‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’ Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies.
‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’
“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’
‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’
‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’
‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’
‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’
‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’
‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’
‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’
‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’
‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’
‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’
‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’
—
You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents.
“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.
“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different.
“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile.
“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces. You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.
‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile. Suguru has different plans.
“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster. Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?
...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t.
You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.
“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.
“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you.
“What?” You ask.
“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.”
You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it.
“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say.
“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare.
“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost.
“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling.
“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—”
“I don’t care.”
“Please—”
“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him.
—
You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.
You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72.
‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’
‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’
‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened.
‘Oh wow.’
‘I know.’
‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’
‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’
‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring.
“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care.
‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box.
“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.”
‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’
“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh.
‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’
“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight.
“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.
‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’
“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.”
‘And what is that?’
‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight.
"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please...
‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’
You nod.
‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’
You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand.
You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day...
“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt.
“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.
“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder.
“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.
You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming.
“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out.
“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water.
“N-no!”
—
“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.
“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress.
“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously.
“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie.
“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.
“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad.
“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back.
Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.
You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.
You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.
Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.
“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.
“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks.
Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him.
He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.
“No babydoll—”
“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed.
“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase.
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.
“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.
“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.” You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him.
“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”
You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother.
“I know it’s a lot of information.”
“It is.”
“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.
Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.
“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.
You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?
You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.
Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—”
“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.
“Suguru—”
“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face.
“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.
“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.
He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.” You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair.
“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you.
Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.
“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.
“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.”
You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.
“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.
“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.”
“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.
“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders.
“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks.
“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips.
“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.
“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man.
“You okay babydoll?”
“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.”
“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.”
“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.
Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt.
“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.
“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.
“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.
“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch.
Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.
“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.
“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.” he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark.
“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you.
“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy.
“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.
“T-that was—”
“The best sex ‘ve ever had.”
“Same.” You smile before wincing.
“What’s wrong babydoll.”
“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble.
“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly.
“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”
“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.” He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.
#.satoruan writes#tw.stepcest#geto suguru#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto smut#jujutsu geto#geto scenarios#geto x y/n#geto x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut
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Learn the power of saying “No, but” in your business to set boundaries, protect your mental health, and preserve your passion. Discover how this simple phrase can help you maintain control, provide excellent service, and avoid burnout.
#avoiding burnout for business owners#avoiding toxic clients#balancing work and personal life#business boundary strategies#business owner stress management#client red flags#creating business boundaries#empowering entrepreneurs with boundaries#entrepreneur mental health tips#entrepreneur self-care#handling demanding clients#how to say no in business#maintaining control in business#managing difficult clients#mental health for small business owners#overcoming fear of saying no#power of no but#protecting mental health as an entrepreneur#protecting your time as a business owner#saying no professionally#saying no to clients#setting client boundaries#setting expectations with clients#work-life balance tips
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No Glory
Beefy!MMA Fighter!Natasha Romanoff* x Fem!Stripper!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Word count: 3570
Summary: Your club gets a visit from rising boxer Natasha “Black Widow” Romanoff.
*Nat has a 🍆 and is a virgin
AN: Been working on this one for a while... 😉
Sometimes Natasha wonders why she chose this path in life. The chain-link fence of the octagon cage rattles from the spectators’ excitement, reminding her that she’s only here for their entertainment. The eyeballs and cameras drink in the violence and bloodshed like an elixir, the crowd cheering for more. They didn’t pay all that money for a ten-second fight that ends with a single punch to the temple and a body lying still on the mat. They want to see the full three rounds, pushed to the last second, where the fighters can hardly stand straight and blood soaks through the mats.
She circles the pen warily, shifting her weight back to her left leg because her right thigh has swollen to a near-bursting point after taking a rapid succession of roundhouse kicks that probably could’ve fell a house support beam. Blood drips into her left eye and she hopes her eyebrow is at least still attached to her face. She lifts her hands to protect what’s left, her forearms and biceps aching, but she knows if she doesn’t end things soon, she’ll be the one laid out while the audience celebrates.
Her opponent, a pixie-cut blonde with a few inches over her, bounces on the mats with a seemingly endless supply of energy. The only visible damage Natasha’s left on her is a fattened bottom lip. Natasha is annoyed, wishing she had done a better job wearing her opponent out so the end wouldn’t be so difficult.
She shuffles forward a few steps as much as her injured leg will allow, causing her opponent to bounce back in response. She fruitlessly throws a few punches, which her opponent blocks effortlessly. Her opponent might have the capacity to play around with her the rest of the evening, but Natasha doesn’t have the time.
She moves backwards now, practically inviting her opponent in for a free hit. When Natasha sees the light of realization in her opponent’s eye, she knows it’s over. She momentarily shifts her weight to her right leg, a spike of adrenaline masking the pain long enough for her to spin on her heel, lifting her left leg as high as she can manage. Her left heel connects with her opponent’s jaw with a satisfying crack.
“KNOCKOUT!” the announcer roars. “Danvers is down!”
Natasha wobbles on both legs as the referee jumps in between her and Danvers, lying frozen stiff on the mats with one arm still raised. She is momentarily jealous of Danvers’s unconsciousness, wishing she could lay down too, but when she sees the look of shock in Danvers’s eyes as she comes to, she isn’t jealous anymore.
“Your winner…Natasha ‘Black Widow’ Romanoff!”
She turns to face the audience, raising a fist and hearing their screams and cheers grow louder. But the win feels empty to her. There was not much at stake at an amateur fight and her reward would be even less after her manager/coach/adoptive father took his cut. Training would be even worse with her new injuries and she already had another fight scheduled in less than a week. As she squints through the bright lights shining down on the octagon, she looks out at the audience, knowing she won’t find you there but wishing she would.
***********************************************************************
“Hey, turn that up,” you say, catching a glimpse of the TV in the mirror.
“Why?” Wanda asks, smearing red lipstick around her mouth. “You’re not into MMA.”
“No, but that one client of hers is,” Jane chimes in and you feel her cheeks heat up.
“Which one?”
“You know, that buff redhead.”
“Ohhhh.”
You tune them out to focus on the fight. You didn’t really consider Natasha Romanoff a client of yours because she never seemed to want to get actually near you–you could always feel her eyes on you from afar, but every time you approached she suddenly turned icy cold, murmuring excuses and turning down your offer to take her to one of the back rooms for a private show. She was an enigma and a little rude too, but you found yourself hopelessly drawn to her.
You watch as Natasha limps forward, before spinning around and kicking Danvers in the face.
“KNOCKOUT! Danvers is down!”
You try to hide your smile. You knew she could do it. She might not have had the greatest track record, but she was still just starting. Maybe she’d come visit you tonight as a way to reward herself, and maybe you’d finally get a real chance to be with her. You turn back to your mirror, reaching for the mascara. You always wanted to make sure you looked the best when she came in.
***********************************************************************
Natasha watches unblinkingly as the nurse presses the enormous ice pack to her bruised thigh, holding it in place with a plastic wrap she’s sure she’s used in the kitchen before. Her ankle is elevated on a chair and she’s only in her underwear now so she caught a full glimpse of the damage Danvers caused before the ice pack hid away most of it.
She winces when a second nurse pinches the skin above her left eyebrow and presses on a pair of butterfly stitches.
“How did you win but Danvers walked away better than you?” the first nurse says to no one in particular. Natasha doesn’t answer.
“I bet the gamblers were not happy with that upset tonight,” the second nurse responds.
“My daughter knows how to give a show,” a deep Russian voice slurs from behind them. Natasha doesn’t move to acknowledge her father lumber into the locker room. “Very good today, Natasha. Very, very good.” A heavy hand slams painfully on her shoulder and she jolts. “You almost had me fooled, too.” He shakes her and Natasha holds onto the sides of the flimsy metal chair she’s propped in so as not to fall to the floor. “But I trained you well. I know I did.”
“Yes, Dad,” Natasha mumbles, trying to shake his hand off her shoulder. She just wants to be away from everyone now. She hardly cares that it’s her first win in weeks. These were the last people she wanted to be celebrating with.
“Alexei!” The manager walks in next. He’s shorter and smaller than Natasha’s father and Natasha only knows his name as Dreykov. He wears thick-rimmed glasses and has his thin gray hair perpetually slicked back. “I’ve got a good payday for you.”
“For once!” Alexei cheers, walking over to Dreykov. The men share an awkward but enthusiastic handshake, before Dreykov reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. Natasha swears she can see the dollar signs in her father’s eyes as Dreykov begins peeling and counting bills.
“We’ll be celebrating tonight,” Alexei says as he proudly accepts the money. Almost like it’s an afterthought, he turns towards Natasha and offers her a single, hundred-dollar bill. “Here you go, honey. Treat yourself tonight. Go to that club that you like, but don’t bring any of the girls home.” He and Dreykov laugh. Natasha snatches the bill out of his hand. She knows she’s owed more for her share, but she’s too tired to complain. She hates the situation she’s gotten herself into, but knows there’s no escaping it now.
***********************************************************************
Your eyes scan the club, your vision so well-adjusted to the dim lighting and red LEDs that you can still see faces perfectly well. Either she’s not here yet, or she’s playing her usual game and hiding in the corner with a beer.
Wanda bumps your hip with hers and you remember to keep moving down the catwalk, continuing your performance for the rowdy men cheering by the edge of the stage. But you’re not interested in a single one of them tonight. You’re waiting for the redhead to appear, because this time, you aren’t just going to ogle from afar.
Natasha carefully lifts herself into a stool at the corner of the bar. The ache in her leg is softened a little by the painkillers her father forced her to take before she left the gym, so she orders a Coke instead of her usual beer. She takes a sip, letting the sugar dissolve in her mouth, and rubs her eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion hit her harder than Danvers had. Maybe she should’ve just gone back to her apartment and slept instead of coming here.
“Hi there.”
Natasha nearly jumps out of her seat. You’re suddenly standing next to her, and you look even more beautiful up close.
“Um, uh…” Natasha splutters, trying not to spill the Coke on herself and setting it back on its coaster. “Hi.”
“I saw your fight earlier. The girls all pitched in for the pay-per-view,” you say.
“Oh.” Natasha feels her cheeks heat up as red as the mood lighting in the club. ���That was nice of them.”
“I knew you’d come here to celebrate your win. Congratulations.”
“It was a lucky kick,” Natasha deflects, feeling infinitely embarrassed by your praise.
“No, you won fair and square,” you insist.
“Thanks,” she finally concedes.
“Not even a beer tonight?” you ask, gesturing to her glass of bubbling Coke.
Natasha shakes her head. “I didn’t want to mix alcohol with painkillers.”
“Oh. Sorry about that.” Natasha hears pity in your voice and her stomach twists. She wishes she could appear stronger and cooler. She’s worried that she’s not living up to your expectations as an MMA fighter, even though she had just won a fight (a first in weeks).
“Can I get you something to drink?” she squeaks, desperate to distract herself from the self-loathing.
You wave her offer away. “I was thinking maybe we could go back to one of the private rooms tonight. If you want to, that is.”
“Me? With you?” Natasha blushes as red as her hair. “I…um…” she splutters. “Sorry, I don’t think I have enough money for that right now.”
“My treat,” you say, putting your hand on her forearm, which tenses up considerably under the leather jacket she’s stretching out.
“Oh, that’s um…very nice of you for offering,” she stammers, pulling her arm away. “But you don’t have to. I don’t want to take your time away from paying customers,” she stalls.
“I want you,” you emphasize, and it makes Natasha’s stomach do somersaults. She’s dreamed of this moment for months, but resigned herself to the fact that she would never have the confidence to ask you this herself. You probably deserved someone much better than her, not a loser who allowed herself to get beat up for a living.
“Are you sure?” Natasha asks, giving you one final chance to walk away. She didn’t want you to do anything you might later regret.
“Yes,” you assure, and there’s no way someone as dense as Natasha can mistake the passion in your voice for anything less. Natasha finally takes your hand and she hopes you won’t mind the callouses roughening up her palm. She looks around, as if she’s embarrassed someone will catch her with you. But no one is paying attention with the dancers on the stage, where Natasha would normally watch you from afar.
You take her past the bathrooms, through a door she had never noticed before, to an empty hallway marked with more doors. Buzzed on excitement and nerves, Natasha hardly notices the ache in her leg anymore.
“This one,” you point out the third one on the left and usher her in.
Natasha isn’t quite sure what she expected, but it almost reminds her of a hotel room. However, she notices there’s no lock on the inside of the door.
“Um…” Natasha stands there awkwardly behind you as you close the door. “I need you to know something,” she blurts out.
“Yes?”
“I’m a…um, I mean…” She doesn’t know why it’s so hard to admit, she would rather fight Danvers again with both hands tied behind her back. “I’ve never done…this before,” she says lamely, her face reddening in shame.
“Oh.” Natasha deflates when she hears your reaction. “Well, that’s okay,” you add quickly and she stares at you while holding her breath. “I’d love to be your…first.”
“Really?” She doesn’t want you to see her like a chore you have to get done so you can move along your day. “I’m sorry I never approached you first and just watched you from the bar like a creep. I just thought you were so beautiful that you’d never want to give someone like me a chance–”
You lean forward and press your fingers to her lips. Her eyes widen at your touch but she finally picks up the courage to gently lift her hands to your hips, beckoning you to close the distance between the two of you.
“Are you sure?” Natasha whispers one last time, her breath warm on your cheeks. You nod as she quickly presses her lips to yours, still carrying an air of nervousness. “Should we…the bed?” she suggests, cringing at how crass it sounds.
You hide a chuckle and allow her to lead you to the queen-sized bed, where she sits on the edge first, parting her legs so you can stand between them. You lean down and kiss her again, this time with more passion, and she cups your cheek with her rough palm. She feels the sudden tightening in her pants and shifts her leg to adjust herself.
“It’s your leg okay?” you ask.
“Um, it’s not my leg…”
“Maybe I can help?” you propose, turning your focus first to her belt and then her zipper. Natasha tries to help you but you push her hands away; instead, she lifts herself off the bed so that you can pull down her pants and boxers. She moans when your hand closes around her shaft and starts tugging at her gently.
“Y/N,” she whispers, rocking her hips slightly to push more of herself through your hand. Your hand feels infinitely better than hers ever has and just the thought of what your pussy might feel like has her head reeling already.
“Do you like that?” you ask, ghosting your lips over hers. Natasha tries to kiss you but pulls back and gasps when you squeeze her head, collecting the pre-cum that dribbles out on your finger. She watches with wide eyes as you bring your finger to your mouth and suck it off, and she throbs even harder in your hand.
“Please, Y/N,” she begs, and even her legs are shaking now too (but she suspects that might also be because her muscles are weak).
“Sit down and take your clothes off,” you tell her, taking off your jacket and tossing it on the floor. Natasha eyes your curves with a spark of lust, but she doesn’t touch you without permission. She hastily tries to follow your instruction, wanting to watch you undress instead, but with a few fumblings rids herself of the leather jacket and the plain white T-shirt she had been wearing underneath. You’ve left yourself in a pair of lacey lingerie as you crawl onto the bed to join her, pushing her back until her spine bumps against the headboard.
“Still okay?” you ask, straddling her waist but mindful of the enormous dark bruise on her right thigh.
“Can I touch you?” Natasha asks, almost squirming underneath you in desperation.
“Of course,” you say, guiding her hands to your hips where she squeezes them roughly, sliding to the backside of your thighs and pulling you towards her. Her hard cock is pressed against her abs when you fall against her and she jogs her hips to create a slight friction between your bodies. You rock forward, smearing some of her pre-cum onto your stomach. Natasha gasps at the sight and feels herself harden even more, until she’s afraid it’s about to burst on the spot.
“I don’t…know how much longer…I’ll last,” she pants, trying to slow the movement of your hips. You’ve hardly touched her and she isn’t even inside you yet, but the shameful thought deflates her just a little bit.
“Just a little more,” you tease, wrapping your hand around her slick cock and pumping it back to full mast again. Natasha grunts and moans, her muscles flexing in an impressive display for you as she tries to enjoy the pleasure without ruining the moment. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, but you slap her hand away and she looks up at you guiltily.
“Let me,” you insist, leaning back to slowly shimmy out of your panties. Natasha is worried she’ll start drooling when you finally expose yourself to her, where she can see the glimmering wetness of your anticipation. “Look what you’ve done to me,” you say as you lower yourself to press your wetness against her cock. “Feel it.”
“Fuck, Y/N,” Natasha mumbles, wondering if you can feel how hard her cock is throbbing for you too. She cants her hips up to slide herself through your heat, even though the movement reminds her of the pain in her leg. “I need you, baby.”
“I need you too,” you say, moving to match her rhythm. It fills Natasha with happiness to hear you say this; she’s never had it said to her before and quite literally spent most of her time as a punching bag for others. But even if you’re just caught in the heat of the moment and only viewing her as a favor, she wants to enjoy this and couldn’t be more excited you chose to spend time with her tonight.
“Did you bring protection?” you ask, startling Natasha out of the moment.
“Oh…um, yes. It’s in my wallet,” she says, reminded of the little foil packet one of her sparring buddies had given her as a joke. They wouldn’t be laughing anymore when they learned she had finally gotten the chance to use it.
There is an awkward pause as you lift off of Natasha enough for her to slide out and grab the wallet in her jeans, tearing open the packet as she gets on the bed again. Her hands are trembling as she tries rolling the plastic over herself, but you end up helping her finish.
“Thanks,” she mutters, embarrassed by her own helplessness.
“It’s okay.” You kiss her forehead and hold onto her shoulder with one hand to steady yourself, the other hand gripping onto her shaft and guiding it towards your entrance. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she says, holding her breath and squeezing your hips tighter.
She easily slides into you, trapping her in a velvet heat that seems to swallow her whole. The two of you moan in unison and Natasha holds herself very still, torn between wanting to bury her entire length in you and not wanting to hurt you. Her heart is racing with exhilaration but she patiently waits for you to start moving, the arousal in her stomach spiking to an almost painful point when she feels how easily she moves through you.
Her back arches against the headboard when you purposely squeeze her and her nails claw at your thighs.
“Come on, Nat,” you say, “Come and fuck me.”
Natasha doesn’t respond with words, but jack her hips up hard, meeting your thighs with hers with an audible slap. Her arousal is so strong now it completely drowns out the lightning bolts of pain from her leg as she pistons eagerly into you, trying to fit all of herself into you. She wants your tightness around every inch of her, massaging her in the best way she’s ever been touched before. She can feel herself leaking in the condom and knows it won’t be too much longer until she busts completely.
But she wants you to feel good too, and doesn’t want to focus too much on her own pleasure.
You bounce higher with every one of Natasha’s thrusts and she starts to lose her rhythm the closer she gets to release. Her hips and abs burn and she buries her face in your chest, mouthing at your breasts in a last-ditch effort to distract herself, but to no avail.
Natasha finishes in a few hard spurts that seem to drain all the energy out of her. She lays back limply against the headboard, the muscles in her thighs still twitching. Your riding slows to a full halt as you wait for her body to stop shaking. Natasha reaches up to stroke your face tenderly.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and you beam down at her.
***********************************************************************
Natasha opens her eyes, feeling like she had been hit by a bus. She looks around and doesn’t recognize the space, before she suddenly remembers her successful fight against Danvers, and then the night she had with you.
But you’re nowhere to be seen now, although Natasha’s clothes, which she had haphazardly tossed to the floor, are now collected in a neat stack on a chair. She gets up to put her clothes on and her phone falls out of her jeans pocket. The screen lights up with text messages from her father, wondering why she was late to practice that morning.
The harshness of reality slapping her in the face, she hurries to dress. She isn’t even sure if she’s supposed to be here, but she finds a back door and sneaks out, unsure if she’ll ever have the confidence to return.
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AN: Sorry this ended kind of sad, I’ve been really sad lately so it only made sense lol.
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
#natasha romanoff#black widow#beefy!nat#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine
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Decompressing
18+ MDNI
You and Soap have an arrangement for when you have a particularly stressful day at work.
Tags: sex toys, dumbification, degradation, ass play, power dynamic, dom!soap/sub!reader, p in v sex
You call him on your way home, voice hitting that tone he knew meant a rough one on the job. One too many muttered curses under your breath or a bit of a sharp bite to your words when talking about your clients. You were fully in your head and he smiles on his side of the phone.
“Y’need a night off?” He innocently asks, words casual enough.
You nearly freeze mid step on the sidewalk. Just the thought of what he was implying had a chill coating your skin and a weight settling low in your gut.
“Y-yeah maybe,” you reply, steps growing quicker as you hurry toward your boyfriend’s flat.
“Your call, bonnie. You let me know when you get here,” he grins, and you can hear it on his voice.
Soap is such a considerate man. A real martyr when it comes to helping you unwind from a stressful week. It’s so hard for him to have to fill you up with the new plug he just so happened to find online a few days ago. The ad jus’ popped up, I swear! And when he has to make sure that pretty little head of yours is blissfully empty? What a difficult job indeed.
And he knows as well as you do that your ‘maybe’ on the phone was a yes. It always is. And your throbbing clit is also aware of that as it aches more with each step.
Shifting from foot to foot, you wait at his door, but it doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to tear it open, the impatient bastard. He smiles widely, knowingly, at you and ushers you inside. The lock gets thrown and his hand takes yours. There’s no hello, no time to unwind or unpack more of your shitty day because he is already pulling you into his room.
“Lie back, yeah?” he urges, nodding to the towel he’d already draped on the bed. You comply, because why wouldn’t you? The idea that he’s going to take care of you was already sinking in, helping you shed your stress like wrapping paper.
Before you can even fully shimmy onto the corner of the bed, he’s got a plug in his hand, lube in the other. This time, he doesn’t ask you to get undressed or even take off your shoes, he simply pushes your knees up and gives you a raised eyebrow look.
Hold them there. You know that’s what he wants and you do it, cheeks warming in anticipation.
He covers the bright pink plug, makes sure it’s nice and ready, and then flips your dress up, tugging your partially soaked underwear to the side.
“Oh, you were gettin’ ready for me on the way over. Such a good girl,” he coos, pressing the tip against you.
Your back arches as thoughts pop out of your head one by one. Easing it in slow, making sure not to hurt you, making sure you feel it all go in, he watches you. Praises you. His eyes flick from your rolling eyes to your clenching pussy as the plug sits flush in your ass.
“How’d’ya like that, hm?” He purrs.
You nod quick, the fullness sending little shocks through you. “ ‘s good,” you manage to croak.
“It’s good?” He mocks softly, fingers trailing up to your aching clit. You nod again, a soft whimper falling from your lips. He chuckles as he toys with your sopping pussy’s entrance. “How about you tell me about your day some more, bon?”
You know it’s an order, so you really do give it your best effort, but when he slides two fingers in you after the first syllable, all your words find somewhere else to be. A moan takes their place and as you writhe, the plug shifts and turns, lighting you up with pleasure.
“I thought you had so much to tell me,” he says, fingers pumping into you with more purpose. “You too full to think? Too dumb already?”
“Mhmm!” you whine, body hot and sensitive.
“Shame, that is. Maybe you can cum once you get yer voice back.” And he pulls away, leaving you a panting mess.
You sit up on your elbows, expression more wrecked than you’d like to admit. And Johnny looks unfazed. Wry. He loves pulling you apart like this. Loves seeing his brilliant, smart, confident girlfriend melt and become a puddle of need for him. And you do too.
It’s why you let him order you to go grab him a beer as he settles onto the couch. It’s why you don’t mind the shockwaves of intense stimulation that rock you with every step. And it’s why you never mind when he grabs your chin in his hand and calls you his good girl or slut or you-name-it as he makes you sink onto his lap.
Tonight, his cock gets buried deep inside you as you’re told to warm him. Don’t move, just take what I’m givin’. And you do so good, sit so still as you’re filled all the way. The base of his shaft has the right amount of hair to drive your clit wild, but you bite your lip and try your damndest not to moan until he tells you to.
And when he shifts and relaxes back, he strokes your chest absentmindedly, peaked nipples nothing more than a fidget toy for him. But Soap isn’t mean. He sees the way your eyes gloss over, the way your breaths hitch and catch. His smirk returns and he sets his hands on your hips.
“So, love. You gonna tell me all about that hard day at work yet?”
You swallow thickly as he rolls his hips beneath you. Your ass clenches, pussy throbs, and your head snaps back as you catch a cry in your throat. The last thing on your mind was your shitty day. Whoever had pissed you off was long forgotten and you suddenly can’t remember if the annoying meeting even happened this week or last.
All you can babble out is, “dunno, I dunno, Johnny. Just lemme cum.”
He smiles wide, chuckling that devious laugh of his and his grip on you tightens enough to clue you in on what’s about to come. “Hm, I’m startin’ to think your job cannae be that hard, bonnie. Never have anything to tell me.”
But you don’t even really hear his words as he starts to pound into you from below. He’s not wrong, not that either of you want him to be. As you soak his cock with your cum over and over, the last thing you’re thinking about are your co-workers or boss. As he makes you bounce on him, your tits now pulled out of the top of your dress for him, neither of you are too concerned with the work days either of you had. And you won’t have to be for a while, as he fills your fluttering pussy up, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
What a sweet boyfriend you have, taking away all your worries like that. A real saint Johnny is for you.
#please be nice this is my first fic like this#cod fanfic#smut#soap mactavish#soap x reader#soap x you#cod#john soap mactavish#soap cod#MischievousPrincess#soap smut#johnny mactavish#johnny mactavish x reader#Johnny MacTavish x you
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Richmond Inc.
「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」
「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」
♠ summary: Terry Richmond is your boss, and the illustrious CEO of the worlds best and most elusive private security firm. Only he didn't get to where he is now by being nice. As attractive as your boss is, you find it difficult to swoon for the green eyes giant when he is perpetually unpleasant and demanding.
♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Black Reader
♠ word-count: ~1.1 K
You look away from the light eyed adonis not wanting to get glamoured by his green eyes. Your coworkers swoon and you wonder how it’s possible for them to forget his chronic dissatisfaction and scathing temper. Running a tight ship is the understatement of the century. The former military man sure acts like he’s still on assignment. If it was up to you the last place you’d be is under his smug gaze as he details what's gone both wrong and right about the last assignment. He has no business being as mean as he is. His size alone is grounds for him to be more cautious and gentle with his employees. with. Anyone who’s as tall as he is with a body built for combat should always be careful to be considerate.
“Y/N” his baritone voice calls drawing you from your thoughts.. Looking up your eyes meet his for the briefest of moments. You consider quitting in an instant bracing for him to rip you apart for some infraction.
“Sir?” You respond.
“Great work, the logistics were perfect” he says and it’s high praise coming from someone who rarely acknowledges great work with praise”. Eyes dart away from him to you and you force a casual smile.
“Just doing my job” you nod hoping he moves on. The debrief continues and you recognize the clamouring to impress him and for his attention. It’s not in you to placate anyone least of all a man that’s so stern all the time. Looking at the clock your body settles knowing relief is soon. For all the boss’ faults punctuality and timeliness isn’t one of them. His phone alarm sounds signalling the end of the meeting and you stand first. Your male colleagues stand too but a couple of your female colleagues take their time.
“Y/N I’d like to see you in my office in five” he says.
“Ok” you respond heading to the bathroom first. When you’ve relieved yourself of your nerves you look in the mirror and practice a detached but engaged expression. When you fail to convince yourself of the contrived demeanour you sigh silencing your phone and making a mental note to find a new job. Grabbing your tablet for work you enter his state of the art office with seconds to spare. His eyes shift rom the clock to you and he holds out his arm signalling for you to take a seat. You oblige.
“How are you?” He asks.
“Fine and you?” You ask not missing a beat.
He nods, smiling slightly. “Good” Impatience flares in your expression and his smile deepens as he looks down at the paper on his desk. It’s an odd sight to see him smile for anyone other than clients.
“Your reviews are stellar. Both your team and directors have glowing reviews for you. Your end of year compensation will reflect that” he says and your excitement flares.
“I do my best” you respond in acknowledgement.
“There will be a vacancy in the director slot and everyone tells me you’re good with people. Are you interested in being on the ground?” He asks.
“No” you don’t even have to think about it. It’s most of your colleagues' dreams. To rub elbows with the who’s who of the world in need of private security. A few of your former female director colleagues are now kept women to filthy rich businessmen.
“No?” He seems surprised.
“No thank you.” You correct, not wanting to draw his ire. His thick brows furrow as he looks at you confused. You only manage it seconds before looking away. He sits back in his chair and you look anywhere but his eyes.
“Would you prefer another position?” He asks but all directors work closely with him. Even from your office you’ve heard him ripping into them on several occasions for mistakes. Director means his personal pawn. It means two am pick up times and calls at all hours of the day and night. Family strain and inconsistency for everyone who isn’t the job. It means he has full control over you, your decisions, company, medical history, romantic partners and every other significantly private thing.
“I’m quite content where I am now” you respond honestly.
“Is it the compensation? If it’s unsatisfactory there is room for negotiations” He explains but you don’t think there could ever be a number to justify what that position would do to your nerves.
“I can do my job well enough now. My confidence in my abilities isn’t the same for a director position. I can’t commit to more hours or the sporadic demands. Nor am I interested in the travel aspect. My hours now with occasional overtime is what I can manage. I don’t ever want to underdeliver and I know I would as a director” you lie and his skepticism is proof he’s not buying it, at least not fully.
“I can think of few things more compelling for a young woman than international travel with every luxury” he says.
“You’re the furthest thing from a young woman” you mutter, speaking out of turn. Thankfully his eyes light and he seems more amused than annoyed. He reaches for his glasses taking a file from the folder organizer on his desk. He swipes his clearance fob over it and light flashes into his eye before the file opens. The way his muscles contract for the simplest gestures is sinful. He studies the papers flipping through them and then looks back up at you.
“Is it the dog?” He asks, revealing he’s looking into your file.
“Pardon me?”
“Your dog, is that why you don’t want to travel or take on the promotion?” He asks. You’re the reason. You think to yourself, but it's hardly an appropriate response. “Or has something changed in your personal life?” He pries acting like it’s within his authority.
“I have nothing I want to flag or discuss” you respond succinctly. Mr. Richmond nods and removes his glasses before putting the paper back into its folder, locking it and setting it back into the organizer. His notifications sound and he checks his luxury watch. He’s so fucking fine. You swallow knowing he’s probably the worst with women.
“You’re free to go” he says dismissively, back to his asshole ways.
“Good day” you respond but it seems to make him flinch slightly.
“Good day” he responds and you leave.
Author's note: i'm trying to be better about hoarding drafts. So here's a little Aaron fic for the girls 🖤 how do we feel about mean terry? don't forget to ❣ Like, ❝ Comment, ↺ Reblog ☑vote on the polls
002 ⇛
tags: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal @fairytale07 @rampsen @rosey1981 @lauraaan182 @lynaye1993
#terry richmond#rebel ridge fanfiction#rebel ridge#aaron pierre x black reader#aaron pierre#aaron pierre fanfic#terry richmond imagine#aaron pierre imagine#terry richmond x black reader#aron pierre x you#terry richmond x you
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Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 1/?)
Silco was at his limit. The last few days had been a whirlwind, made worse by Jinx's eccentricities, which Sevika couldn't control. He was exhausted, his nerves on edge, so, as if it were the most obvious solution, one of his subordinates suggested that he relax… in a brothel. The idea was so offensive that Silco almost killed him right there. But in the end, there he was and unfortunately or fortunately you are the lucky one who will serve him.
Silco x fem!Reader Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI) Word Count: 4,9K Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, oral sex (m!receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, discussion (a few lines), you work in the brothel, Silco POV (when to start smut because the male POV It just hits ✨different✨), an obsessive Silco in the end? Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.
I got into my obsessive phase with this man again thanks to the second season of Arcane and I had to turn a conversation with a janitor bot into a fanfic. This is my first time posting something here so I have no idea what I'm doing lol… English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes.
The room reeked of overly sweet flowers, a cloying mixture of perfumes that you never found pleasant but managed to endure. Dressed in a simple white satin gown, which men liked to dismissively call "easy access," you stood behind the curtain, taking deep breaths and trying to hide the trembling in your hands. This wasn’t your first time dealing with difficult clients at the brothel, but this time, it felt different.
Silco.
His name alone was enough to make your breath hitch, and not in a good way. The feared, self-proclaimed leader of Zaun was seated on the couch, his arms draped casually over the backrest while his eye—or rather, his good eye—surveyed the room with evident impatience. You could tell he was irritated, perhaps even more so than the rumors had suggested when he arrived at the brothel. The deep lines on his face seemed sharper under the dim lighting, and he ran his tongue over his lips, muttering something you couldn’t catch.
You knew there was no choice. Refusal would bring consequences far worse than simply losing money. So you swallowed your fear, lifted your chin, and stepped through the curtain with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Your steps were steady, but your heart waged a frenzied battle against your ribcage.
He didn’t seem impressed at first glance, but you could feel his gaze weighing on you as you moved closer. Each step shrank the safety distance between you. Your body moved almost instinctively from there, guided by the muscle memory of your unconventional profession. Carefully, you leaned down, letting yourself settle into his lap. Curiously, Silco showed no visible signs of discomfort, but he didn’t seem particularly engaged either, which only heightened your anxiety.
You assumed he would take the initiative, steering things more directly as clients often did here. The small talk, the courtesies—they always seemed unnecessary in a place like this. Your hands hesitated as they reached his shoulders, finding them rigid at first, but he appeared to relax slightly, sinking back into the sofa with a heavy sigh. It took you another moment to finally find your voice.
“You seem... stressed.”
“Those men aggravate me.” he muttered in response, his voice heavy with frustration, as if exhaustion had seeped into his very soul at that moment.
You nodded as though you understood perfectly. Of course, you didn’t, but you knew how to agree with powerful men without questioning them. Despite the fear that churned within you, you noticed something: he had let you touch him. A rare allowance for someone as reserved and commanding as Silco. The realization was strange, but it made you move your hands more carefully, wanting to prolong his apparent calm.
Silco’s mismatched eyes—one blue, the other orange—scrutinized you with an intensity that made you feel as though he was truly seeing you for the first time. He tilted his head slightly and asked, his tone more curious than cold:
“You haven’t told me your name.”
“Call me whatever you wish,” you replied sweetly, your voice melodious, though only you knew how forced every word felt. Your fingers, braver than your spirit, began tracing subtle lines across his chest, feeling the expensive fabric of his clothing and the warmth of his body beneath it.
“I’m aware of that, but I’d still like to know your name.”
After a moment’s hesitation, you gave him your name. Silco repeated it, testing the syllables on his tongue. Hearing your name spoken by him unsettled you in a way you couldn’t quite place—it was strange how easily it rolled off his lips, as though it meant nothing, and at the same time many things. You weren’t sure if he was genuinely interested or if it was just conversational habit, but the fact that he asked stirred something within you.
“It suits you.” he said. From the subtle curl of his lips, you knew he’d noticed your nervousness. “Indulge my curiosity. What brings a woman as beautiful as you to a place like this? Surely, you have dreams that extend beyond satisfying the desires of others.”
Before you could think of a response, Silco's fingers moved to your face, brushing aside a stray strand of hair that had fallen over your shoulder. The touch was slow and soft—almost too intimate for someone like him. The warmth of his fingertips against your skin sent a shiver coursing through your body. Your instinct was to pull away, but you didn’t dare.
Swallowing your hesitation, you leaned slightly into his hand, like a cat seeking affection. Your posture remained controlled, the smile on your lips unwavering.
“Me? Well, I’m like any child of Zaun... I had to find a way to survive, so let’s skip the tragic parts of the story.” Your fingers began to toy with the fabric of Silco’s suit, admiring the quality of the material. It was the kind of fabric you’d never dreamed of owning, let alone touching. “I got lucky with my looks because, honestly, having sex and earning money beats living on the streets.”
You forced a smile as you said the words, trying to project confidence, though the very idea of finding yourself here still felt unreal. What you truly wanted to say was something entirely different: that you hadn’t had a choice. But that part, you kept to yourself.
“Besides, if I hadn’t chosen this path, I would never have had the chance to be here with you.”
It was an empty, contrived line, but you assumed it was what he wanted to hear. That had always been your role—making others feel desired, as though being in their presence was a privilege for you. Deep down, the bitterness of the lie gnawed at you, but you’d long since mastered the art of hiding it.
Silco’s touch, still unexpectedly gentle, lingered on your face, tracing the curve of your jawline with a calmness that seemed to contradict the dangerous aura surrounding him. Every nerve in your body was on high alert as he stayed silent, simply observing you, his fingers mapping your features. You couldn’t ignore the satisfaction he seemed to draw from your hesitation, as though your nervousness was precisely what he wanted to extract.
“I can see why the men of Zaun would pay handsomely for your... company,” Silco murmured, his voice low and deliberate as his fingers trailed down to your lips. “Still, surely you could have found another path. Something that didn’t involve selling yourself to the highest bidder.”
The disapproval in his tone struck like an invisible slap. You blinked, startled, unable to hide the brief flicker of disbelief on your face. Him? The chemical baron who ruled Zaun, questioning your morality? He, who built his fortune by exploiting desperation and chaos through Shimmer? It was almost laughable, but the weight of his words left no room for humor.
“Tell me the truth,” he continued, his voice slow, each word laced with a faint, mocking edge. “Is this what you want? Spending your nights warming the beds of strangers, smiling as they use you for their pleasure?”
Your fingers, which had been toying with the fabric of his suit, returned to your own body, creating the barest sliver of distance between you—though it felt impossible to achieve while still perched on his lap. You briefly considered keeping up the act, retreating to the mask of seduction and sweetness. But something about his tone, the intensity in the look he gave you, made it clear he wouldn’t accept a rehearsed answer.
"You’re hardly in a position to lecture anyone about morality, you know that?" Your voice was steadier now, stripped of the syrupy tones you had wielded before. There was still caution, but also something resembling either confidence or sheer madness. You weren’t entirely sure what was fueling you. "But the truth is, you don’t have much choice when you attract too much attention. Men have this pathetic need to turn anything they desire into property. If I weren’t here, I’d probably be some baron’s plaything... or any other man’s who thought he had that right."
You caught the slight shift in his expression, but you didn’t stop before he could interrupt.
"At least in the brothel, I have a small sense of safety. Here, we protect each other. It’s not ideal, but it’s enough to survive." Your words dripped with a cynicism you wore like armor, but they were genuine. Silco remained silent. "Satisfied?"
His touch grew firmer then, his hand gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. Silco didn’t settle for easy answers, and that kept you on edge. His mismatched eyes bore into yours, as if he could rip the truth from behind your façade by force. For a moment, your body betrayed your mind, trembling under the weight of his focus—or perhaps under the heat radiating from him.
"No," he said softly, his voice laced with an undeniable authority. "I’m not satisfied."
There was something in his tone that both soothed and terrified you. "I recognize value when I see it, and you’re not just a pretty face or a warm body to be used and discarded. You’re a survivor, my dear. And survivors don’t settle for scraps when they could have the entire feast."
Silco leaned closer, his face now so near that you could feel his breath ghosting over your skin. The hand that had been holding your chin slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer. He was invading your space, breaking every boundary you had tried to set before. It should have made you furious, and yet, there was something maddeningly magnetic about his words, his tone. Like a moth drawn to the flame.
"And what if I told you." he murmured, his voice dropping into a husky whisper near your ear, "That I could offer you another path? A way out of this gilded cage you’ve trapped yourself in? All you have to do is say yes."
It was tempting—far too tempting. But you knew better. This was a trap, a carefully spun illusion of power designed to lure you in. Silco wasn’t just a chem-baron; he was a master manipulator, someone who played people like pieces on a chessboard. His hands were stained with blood, and you weren’t going to become one of his victims.
Your shoulders tensed, and your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing lightly as though instinctively trying to create space between you.
"You’re right about one thing," you whispered back, your voice low but carrying a newfound confidence even you didn’t quite recognize. "I’m a survivor, precisely because I don’t trust men like you."
Your nails dug into his shoulders—not to hurt him, but as a way to anchor yourself, to remind yourself that you still had some semblance of control. To keep yourself from faltering under the weight of his presence. After all, few dared to deny Silco, knowing full well he could take whatever he wanted in the end.
"It’d be foolish of me to say ‘yes’ so easily..." you continued, taking a measured breath to steel yourself. "Everyone in Zaun knows that accepting one of your offers is the same as selling your soul to the devil."
Silco's movement, leaning back slightly to return a fraction of space to you, wasn’t a concession—it was a strategy. He was calculating his next move, and you knew it. His gaze remained fixed on you, and despite his apparent calm, you could feel the weight of his stare—heavy, like a verdict. He didn’t like being challenged, especially by someone who, theoretically, had no power to oppose him. Yet, there was something about you, something that even Silco found himself impressed by, if only for a fleeting moment. He seemed to respect your defiance—admiration disguised as frustration, perhaps.
"You're bold, aren’t you?" Silco spoke, almost amused. "Most girls would jump at the chance to be under my protection. But not you. No, you're far too clever for that."
His hand rose again, this time stopping at your throat, where his fingers rested, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat. It was a gentle touch, but undeniably threatening—a silent warning. And though the sensation was unsettling, it was nothing you hadn’t dealt with before. After all, if he truly wanted to kill you, he would have done so already.
"Allow me to clarify my proposal, dove," he continued, his voice softening in a way that only heightened your distrust. "I’m not offering salvation or a fairy tale ending. I’m offering you a chance to survive, on your own terms. To rise above the squalor and degradation of this place."
His touch shifted, his free hand sliding along your waist, tracing every contour of your body with an unsettling softness. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of your dress, and you knew he could feel the heat of yours just as well. Your body tensed, but you didn’t give in—not even as his hand ventured lower, stopping on your thigh. A shiver ran down your spine, but your mind remained resolute, knowing that any sign of weakness would be an invitation for him to push further.
His tone, now little more than a husky murmur, made the air around you feel heavier, charged with a tension you knew he wielded with mastery. "All I ask in return is your obedience."
His hand, now bolder, slipped beneath your dress, brushing against your bare skin with a touch that felt almost possessive.
You swallowed hard.
"Think carefully," he continued. "Is serving me really worse than being passed from hand to hand, always in danger of being killed like any other cheap whore? At least with me, you’d be valued. Protected."
The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of your breathing, a rhythm that seemed to amplify the rising tension. Silco held the advantage here—he knew it, and so did you. For all your cunning, there wasn’t much you could offer him beyond your defiance. But you weren’t one to yield without a fight. He might have been formidable in many ways, but all men, no matter how imposing, had a weakness. And you knew this weakness well enough.
"My obedience..." you said, your voice soft, dripping with sweet venom. "You already have it… for tonight."
You pressed your body against his, deliberately moving against the part of him he most desired yet had been neglecting. For the briefest of moments, you caught the crack in Silco’s stoic façade, a flicker of pleasure that betrayed him as your slow, deliberate movements sent a surge of heat to his core. Your hips rolled against him provocatively, the thin fabric of your dress bunched high enough to leave almost nothing to the imagination. The lace of your panties pressed against the unmistakable hardness growing beneath his trousers.
"Isn’t this what you came for, after all?" Your voice was a seductive whisper, yet tinged with irony, your tone laced with a hint of mockery. This wasn’t the submissive game you’d been playing earlier. Not anymore. Silco, with all his authority, likely hadn’t anticipated you flipping the cards the way you just had—appealing to something as raw as carnal desire.
You leaned in even closer, your lips brushing his ear, your warm breath sending a shiver through him. "Because I doubt you walked into this brothel looking to recruit a courtesan for your organization... am I wrong?"
Your words seemed to strike a nerve in the feared "Eye of Zaun," as he remained silent for a few moments, though you could feel the tension in his body. His grip on your flesh tightened, almost as if he was holding back. Then, the hand under your dress slid further upward, his fingers brushing against the lace trim of your panties. The touch sent an electric jolt through your veins; it was affecting you just as much as it was affecting him.
"You're playing a dangerous game, dove," Silco murmured, his voice low and laced with warning. "Tempting me with your body, even as you deny me with such effort. It's a risky move."
He leaned closer, just a breath of space separating your faces. "But I suppose that's what I like about you. You're not afraid to dance on the edge of the blade, even if it means getting cut."
Silco’s other hand slid along your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair before pulling gently, tilting your head back to expose the curve of your throat. You felt him inhale your scent, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips grazed your skin. "However, don’t mistake my desire for weakness. You may not like the result."
"I have no doubts about that," you quipped, increasing the rhythm of your hips, the friction doing a fine job of making you forget you were dealing with a dangerous criminal. You could feel your panties growing damp. "But that doesn’t matter now, does it?"
With difficulty, you moved your head to face him again, despite the way his hand still gripped your hair. Your own hands wandered across his slender frame, sliding down toward his trousers.
"You’re paying to have me, not to talk." With practiced ease, you unfastened his trousers, your hand slipping past the barriers of his clothing, finally touching him. A gentle stroke, testing… "So let’s make your money’s worth."
━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━ Silco's Pov
Silco's breath caught in his throat as her hand slid inside his pants, her fingers brushing his hardened length. The sensation was electric, sending sparks of pleasure racing down his spine. He could feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of his underwear, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to buck his hips against her touch. But even as his body responded to her ministrations, Silco's mind remained sharp and alert. He knew she was trying to gain the upper hand, to turn the tables on him by focusing their encounter on base carnal desires. And while he was more than willing to indulge in such pleasures, he refused to let her think she had won. But, he would recognize her cleverness.
With one swift movement, Silco grabbed her wrist, halting her exploration of his cock. He leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. "Ah ah ah, not so fast, dove," he purred, his voice low and dangerous. "You forget who holds the power here. I'm the one paying for your services, and I'll be damned if I'll let you set the pace."
Silco released her wrist and sat back, his eyes raking over her body with undisguised hunger. "Strip," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I want to see every inch of that gorgeous skin. And then, if you're a good girl, I might let you touch me again."
As she began to comply, Silco allowed his gauze to drift down to the junction between her thighs. He could see the damp spot on her panties, evidence of her arousal, and it made his cock throb with need. But he held himself in check, determined to make her work for her pleasure, even if it becomes an unbearable temptation for both of them.
Once she was fully exposed, Silco reached out and ran his fingers along the edge of her undergarments, teasing her with the promise of his touch. "Now, show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "And maybe, just maybe, I'll give you what you really want."
Oddly enough, that stubborn woman obeyed him without question, living up to what she had said about him having her obedience. The sight of her kneeling naked was sinful, even more so when her curious fingers made quick work of undoing his pants completely. Taking a moment to study his cock, and when Silco opened his mouth to let out a sarcastic comment she finally took him into her mouth.
Silco groaned as her tongue laved along his shaft, the wet heat of her mouth sending jolts of pleasure racing through his veins. He could feel his cock pulsing in her grip, the blood rushing to his groin as his arousal mounted. It took every ounce of his self-control not to simply grab her head and force her down onto his dick, to fuck her pretty face until he painted her throat with his seed.
But he resisted the urge, determined to savor every moment of this exquisite torment. She was skilled with her mouth, he had to give her that. She knew just how to tease and tantalize, to bring him to the brink of madness without pushing him over the edge.
Silco's hands fisted in her hair, his grip tight enough to be uncomfortable but not quite painful. He guided her head as she worked him over, showing her exactly how he liked it. Up and down she went, her lips stretched obscenely around his girth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock.
"Fuck, just like that," Silco sighed with pleasure. "Take it deeper, dove. Show me how badly you want it."
He could feel his balls tightening, his orgasm building at the base of his spine. But he held back, determined to make this last. He wanted to hear she beg for it, to watch her break apart on his cock like the desperate little slut she was.
Silco's hips rocked in time with her bobbing head, his pace increasing as his arousal grew. He could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his core, the pleasure bordering on pain. But still he held back, his iron self-control the only thing keeping him from exploding down her throat. Finally, when he couldn't take it anymore, Silco yanked she off his cock and hauled her up into his lap. He crashed his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep to taste himself on her lips. His hands roamed her body, groping and squeezing, leaving marks of possession on her soft skin.
The kiss was confusing at first, perhaps because she probably didn't expect him to pull her in for a kiss. However, it didn't take long for her to give in, returning the same intensity. Of course, it would be foolish to think that her wandering hands would remain still since soon Silco could feel her gripping him and rubbing against herself. She had pulled her panties aside as she covered him with her wetness, as if her saliva wasn't enough. When the provocation seemed to last longer than it should, she lined up his tip with her entrance. That woman was going to kill him.
Silco groaned as she sank down onto his cock, her tight heat enveloping him like a vice. The sensation was exquisite, her walls fluttering and clenching around his length as she adjusted to his size. He could feel every inch of her, from the slick, velvety softness of her entrance to the tender spot deep inside that made her gasp and writhe.
His hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises, his fingers digging into her flesh as he guided her movements. Up and down she rode him, her pace growing faster and more erratic as the pleasure built within her. Silco thrilled at the sight of her, head thrown back in ecstasy, breasts bouncing with each thrust of her hips. She was certainly a sight that would stay in his mind for a long time.
He leaned forward and captured one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard as he rolled the other between his fingers. She cried out, her back arching as the dual stimulation sent shockwaves of pleasure racing through her body. Silco could feel her walls tightening around him, her body tensing as she neared her peak.
"That's it, dove," he growled against her skin, his voice rough with lust. "Come for me. Let me feel you fall apart on my cock."
Silco's hips snapped up to meet hers, driving his cock deeper, harder, faster. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, obscene and beautiful all at once. He could feel his own climax building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in his core. But he held back, determined to bring her over the edge first.
He reached down between their bodies, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing in tight, fast circles. The added stimulation was too much for her, and she came with a scream, her body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. And, as if possible, becoming even more beautiful.
Only then did Silco allow himself to let go, his own orgasm ripping through him like a tidal wave. He thrust up into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he exploded, his seed painting her insides with its heat. He could feel her milking him, her walls rippling and fluttering around his.
━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━
You collapsed against Silco’s body, utterly spent, as if the world around you had vanished during those feverish minutes. Your forehead rested against his shoulder, and you desperately tried to catch the breath that seemed to have abandoned your lungs. Your body, slick with sweat, still trembled with the remnants of pleasure, involuntary aftershocks that left your overly sensitive skin prickling at the slightest touch. Every muscle felt too heavy to move, leaving you there, trapped between exhaustion and the slow return to reality.
The silence that followed was filled only with the sound of your uneven breathing mingling with his, punctuated by the muffled music, laughter, footsteps, and the occasional moans from other rooms. The brothel was alive, grounding you in where you were, even though the power play that culminated in this moment had momentarily made you forget.
"So..." You lifted your head slowly to meet his gaze, your voice husky and still thick with effort. "Did I please you?" You knew the question would sound like a provocation masked as submission, but you would regret letting the opportunity to tease him slip by so easily.
Silco remained silent for a beat, and then a low, rough chuckle escaped his lips. "Please me? That would be an understatement, dove." he replied, his voice still deep, almost purring. "You exceeded all my expectations."
As he spoke, you felt his fingers rise to your face, brushing aside a strand of hair stuck to your damp skin with a subtle touch. His heterochromatic eyes were locked onto yours, and the moment seemed to stretch on longer than it should have. A part of you wanted to pull away, but something about the intensity of his gaze kept you rooted in place.
His hands slid down your back, fingers tracing the subtle contours of your spine. The heat of his touch sent another shiver through you, your body still far too sensitive. He knew that, of course, and seemed to savor every small reaction he could elicit.
You thought he would push you away, that this moment would end quickly, but he didn’t. Instead, Silco’s lips met yours in a fleeting touch, so brief it could hardly be called a kiss. Then, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as if he were absorbing what had just transpired, what he had just done to you.
"But I’m not done with you yet." he whispered, his voice a dark warning, the echo of something dangerous. Something you should fear.
But you laughed in response.
"I was hoping you’d say that," you teased, slowly shifting your position on his lap, feeling your muscles protest against the movement.
The smirk playing on your lips was wicked as you took in the state of him. Though still clothed, his appearance was far from composed. His trousers, carelessly undone, were wrinkled and disheveled, while his previously immaculate hair was a tousled mess. And those eyes—still hazy, swimming in lust—watched you with an intensity that sent a thrill down your spine. He was chaos incarnate, and you felt absurdly proud of being the one to unravel him.
"However..." You slid off his lap with the same provocative grace that had carried you through the entire evening, your body still trembling faintly from the lingering sensations. "I believe you'll have to pay again if you want to see me next time... Our time is up." You felt his cum, as well as yours, slide down your thighs as you sank into the spot next to him on the couch, but you didn't really care about cleaning it up. The only shred of decency you had was fixing your panties.
Even with nothing but your undergarments covering your skin, you made a point of turning this moment into something that would haunt Silco’s mind—a small finale, pure provocation.
Silco remained seated for a moment, his intense gaze never straying from you. There was something in his eyes—a possessive glint, almost feral. It was as though he wanted to say something, to act, but with an admirable display of restraint, he held back.
You watched as he reached into his pocket, retrieving a wad of bills. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed them onto the table in the corner.
"Consider that a bonus for your... exceptional service."
Rising from the couch, he began adjusting his clothes with mechanical precision. His nimble fingers fastened the zipper on his trousers and smoothed the creases in his suit. The final touch was the swift motion of his hands taming his disheveled hair, each strand returning to its rightful place. With every deliberate move, Silco reclaimed the aura of the man who commanded fear and respect across all of Zaun.
When he reached the exit of the room, he paused. He didn’t turn completely but tilted his head just enough for the warm orange glow of his eye to catch the dim light.
"I have a feeling we’ll see each other very soon, dove." Part2
#silco x reader#silco x you#reader insert#minors dni#arcane fanfic#no beta we die like silco#smut#arcane#arcane silco
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