#in case anyone is lost: the people are from left to right:

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

I’m really curious as to your opinions on each of the Gatsby films. What do you think they did right/wrong? What do you like/dislike about casting choices? If you could make your ideal Gatsby movie rendition would you take any inspo from the existing movies?

(I would add the broadway musical into that list just for the heck of it but we all know that was just funky music loosely wrapped in Gatsby paper)

Oh good heavens...

Okay. So. I'll just talk about them in order of release. And again these are my OPINIONS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT I WAS ASKED FOR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO YELLING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WILL CRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SO many spoilers ahead. You have been warned.

1926

Obviously this film is lost, but we have the trailer, photos, and Fitz's own reaction to it, which was to say he and Zelda left halfway through. It's not even based off the book, either, but based off a play based off the book, so one can imagine that given the filmmaking style of the time and its disconnect from the source material, it likely wasn't the most accurate adaptation.

Accuracy isn't everything in terms of what makes an adaptation 'good'—it's definitely a factor, though, along with entertainment value, justification for any alteration to the story, attention to detail, Genuine Caring For The Source Material, acting, casting, etc...all of these go into consideration, at least for me.

The casting seems alright for this version. Daisy has dark hair. Nick's taller than Jay and visibly, uhhhhhhhhh...well, like...have you ever heard of 'gay face'? But it ends about there, as Tom looks like he's 50, Jordan is...just not right, and as is often the case, Wilson is somehow beyond 'faintly handsome'? Do they just not have enough middies running around in Hollywood?

The costumes are obviously pretty accurate, though very clearly 1926 trying to do 1922. The skirts are. UP there. And I get that jay's shirts are monogrammed but a hand-sized monogram on each jacket? What? Did they think audiences would lose track of which brunette man was which?

Here's a photo. God nick is such a cunt look at him

I can't accurately give the whole film a rating but what I know of it gives it a 6.5/10. Bonus points to jay for pushing the no white shoes after labor day rule up to the very brink.

1949

...listen.

In terms of accuracy to the book, this is not the best. It's just not. It's a star vehicle for Alan Ladd who, at the time, was popping off hardcore in the film noir market, so they fiddle faddled with the tone a bit and shot it in black and white despite having access to color, amped up the crime (jay smokes some bitches in the first five minutes??? takes a hefty swing at a man at a party????) and then said uhhhhh what book are we adapting again?

East Egg and West Egg are scrambled, which goes against the whole 'east coast/old money' vs 'westerners/new money' thing. Nick and Jordan are married in the beginning before flashing back. Nick's just not hypocritical enough in this one, either, which is bothersome, because that's the whole point of his character in the novel—that he can't see his own faults for the more glaring faults of others.

They press fast forward a lot. Like there's no drive to new york or meyer lunch—nick and jay just snuggle in his boat watching the green light and jay tries to lie to nick and nick catches him immediately and jays like AH. YA GOT ME. HA HA. ?????????

if it weren't for alan ladd I would not watch this movie. Don't get me wrong, I love Macdonald Carey as Nick, but I think playing across from anyone else, this would be entirely forgettable and borderline unwatchable.

Alan Ladd. Alan Ladd. Where do I begin with Alan Motherfucking Ladd. This man is Jay Gatsby personified. I know that's controversial because 2013 has brainwashed people into thinking jay gatsby is over six feet tall, but there is something so distinctly perfect about casting a malnourished 5'7 midwestern blonde with such intense parental issues that he never recovered from the sickness that is an impoverished American childhood as jay gatsby. Alan Ladd was underestimated, spat on, put down from day fucking one. Every single time he got ahead in life he was cut down at the knees until finally, finally he found validation and celebrity in playing these soft-spoken, angel-faced killers onsreen. Only it wasn't enough. It was never enough. It could never fill that void and he could never get ahead of himself. You want to tell me that doesn't mirror the fuck out of Jay's life? You want to tell me there was a man in Hollywood at the time who could so deeply understand this character, even through the bullshit rewrites to try and mold the story into something it wasn't? There are even accounts of him taking reporters to his bedroom to show them his closet, saying 'not bad for an okie boy'. That's Jay. That's Jay in pure essence. Never having enough, and so excited to show what he had. Literally look into his past at all and you will mourn his lack of control over the direction the film took, because I know damn good and well if he had been more than just everybody's favorite film noir star at the time and a more respected name, he could have really pushed and pulled to peel back the story and pull better performances from the rest of the cast as a result.

Bonus points for having a really fucking weird Dan Cody and Ella Kaye. Both were distinctly, visibly, vocally predatory toward Jay and it's like the directors actually looked into prior drafts, even if I know damn good and well they didn't. I don't even know if they read the damn book.

Costumes were fine. I wish wish wish wish it had just been in color (THEY COULD HAVE DONE IT.) so that we could see if jay got his pink suit. I swear to god the sight of alan ladd in a pink suit would actually kill me.

I'll give this one a 7/10 overall, points dinging for accuracy to the novel and pacing and some really weird choices, like having jay come from the rainbow division in the war (????) to making nick like...offer to spank jordan. i don member THAT from the book. Most of these points come from Alan Ladd.

Uh. Here's myrtle getting hit by the car

1974

oh boy.

Where to begin? The film is a fucking mess. It's a goddamn motherfucking mess and I can only watch it if I cut Jay and Daisy out of it entirely, which is a shame, because I love both of their characters (for different reasons) but. oh my GOD.

So they got truman capote to write the screenplay at first. unfortunately he made nick and jay skinny dip, and jordan was a vindictive lesbian, and it was 1974 so they weren't about that noise at ALL. There's other stuff in that script too and it's honestly...not a great script to begin with, but that meant they had to REWRITE THE ENTIRE THING WITH JUST WEEKS TO GO BEFORE PRODUCTION. THEY ASKED FRANCIS FORD COPPOLA (THE GODFATHER.) TO WRITE IT AND HE DID IT IN THREE WEEKS IN A HOTEL ROOM, HAVING BEEN UNFAMILIAR WITH THE BOOK, THEN CLAIMED THEY DIDN'T EVEN USE HIS SCRIPT AFTER ALL??? HUH? HUH WHUH?

you can tell. oh boy you can tell. 'jay' and 'daisy' sit around talking in silent rooms for several minutes at a time, just...expositioning all over the place. it's...astonishing.

that's another thing. i...am aware mia farrow is a beloved actress and she did wonderful things onscreen in other films but she is totally and completely unwatchable as daisy. if I knew no other adaptation, she would make me hate daisy with a blind fucking rage. it's not even that she's a bad actress in this—she just does not fit the role even a LITTLE. she's shrill and loud and like...i don't know if she's on coke or what (I mean it's the 70s.) but she just whines and flails her way through the film in an entirely undaisy sort of way. like where is this girl with the sad, lovely face and the voice that's a deathless song? her voice isn't full of money in this, it's counterfeit. she owes me a debt for making me have to listen to her. she only got the job because her name was big at the time and she just asked for it and got it, no audition, no screen test, no nothing. i wish they would have switched lois chiles into daisy's role rather than have her playing jordan, because she was just a much better match for the character.

1974 has one of my favorite toms at least. I've said it before but he's got that sort of frustrated, unsatisfied disinterest, a sort of distraction about him that really lends well to the whole notion of forever chasing down his college days and all that.

WEIRD fuckin chester mckee in this one, but points for being the first fuckin film to show my man onscreen! there's even an elevator scene in this one but it's not between nick and chester, unfortunately. though there is immense sexual tension regardless.

SPEAKING OF NICK! SAM WATERSTON MY BELOVED!!!!

Yet again another flawless casting along the lines of Alan Ladd as Jay. He's such a bitch. I don't think Nick is the same if he's not a cynical gay little cunt some of the time and despite being apparently one of the nicest people in Hollywood, sam just GETS IT. HERE is someone who floats above reproach like his shit don't stink. HERE is someone who will throw the blame on just about anyone but himself—and has to let jay into that same bubble of protection. HERE is someone who knows he's useless but is too afraid to admit it to himself because he's turning 30 and is about to face a crisis of mortality. he's judgemental and critical and somehow pulls off the sort of mind-altering gay panic nick very explicitly experiences around jay every 5 seconds in prior drafts of the book. i wish you all understood how hot nick thinks gatsby is. i wish you all knew what I know. sam waterston knows. and he gets it. he also just looks like nick. like crooked teeth and awkward nose and all. that's nick. i wanna kick him in the shins.

i gotta talk about jay's house in this one. it's bad. why does he live in a greek temple. like. nick describes jay's house in the book. he does. he's a faux provincial palace. almost a fairytale castle. that's on purpose. why. is he living in a marble box. is it supposed to be a tomb. are you making death jokes. fuck you Robert Redford

speaking of Robert Redford. did anyone let him know who he was playing in the movie or did you just hand him a script and tell him to start wherever. I get that jay isn't known for his brains but I have never seen a more confused lead in a film does he even know the camera is rolling or does he do that naturally

costuming is unmemorable and inoffensive except

YOU CALL THAT PINK? PINK?

6/10. Saved by Sam Waterston. Rendered unwatchable by Mia Farrow.

2000

OH BROTHER THIS GUY STINKS

No seriously who let the BBC do this. 5 million dollar budget and they used 4.9 of it on jordan's fuck ass bob.

I don't even know where to begin. I guess I should start at the beginning. The movie opens to Jay dead in the pool, which is the best part of the movie because he's dead.

Nothing about this film is good. I...I hate to say that because I try to find a little good in every adaptation but holy CHRIST. I have only seen this one in parts because I physically cannot sit and watch the whole thing at once.

Nick is played by Paris from Romeo+Juliet. He's not good. Even the one scene I kind of sort of like, at the end where he burns all of jay's papers(?????) is kind of undercut because HE STILL WRITES THE BOOK?? THE EXPOSE??? WHY BOTHER??? HE'S ALREADY DEAD????

I don't remember tom in this. I barely remember Jordan, but she's really, really into Nick and it's kind of upsetting to watch from a visceral standpoint. It's very uncanny valley. That's a NotJordan. the real jordan would never.

it gets worse.

Whoever thought they should cast whatever his name is as Jay—death. death to all of them. That is the most smarmy, leering, dickweed of a dude I have ever had the displeasure of existing near. It's like if the jay equivalent of people who make hating daisy their entire personality got to design jay's characterization for this film. There are no good parts to him. It's just like every single person who's boiled him down to jUsT a CrEePy StAlKeR OWO got to write a film. i would even be down for that point of view if it was well-acted and well written but UNFORTUNATELY, THE ACTING BUDGET WENT TO JORDAN'S WIG,

I can't even remember. 1974 and 2000 blend together for me.

The costuming is so bad but like. whatever. i thought I could live with it.

until.

oh dear god why does daisy have 2007 hollister hair it's 1917

you get more than one photo this time because I know most people haven't seen this film

tell me this didn't come off a CW vampire show in 2011

IS THAT RENESMEE?

SMILEDOG IS THAT YOU?

THE HAIR?

and of course, jordan's 4.9million dollar fuckass bob

Like i get it. period dramas are hard. but good fucking god. im so uncomfortable looking at every single person in this film

BONUS:

1/10 only because i get to watch NotJay die twice

i need a breather

...

2013

okay

In terms of direct, faithful adaptation, I think this one is the best. Like they didn't technically skimp on anything super major, didn't really try to put scenes in a blender. There's clearly, like. a whole script.

I'm already a Baz Luhrmann fan. I have been since the 7th grade when I saw this little movie called—

Romeo + Juliet. No, not tgg. I saw that next, though, and was obsessed. Love. Love!

I love when you can tell an adaptation is made by someone who actually cares about adapting the source material. Very key words there. Adapting. Source Material. Cares About. Because all of these other adaptations are clearly just looking to use a classic novel to make a movie but bazco clearly wanted to Adapt The Great Gatsby For Modern (At the time) Audiences.

I like a lot of the decisions made there. Casting an Indian actor as Meyer Wolfshiem—even if it goes against the explicit description of him in the book as this small beady eyed little weirdo, I think it was a better call to give a lesser-known (to American audiences) poc actor a role rather than continue digging the antisemitic hole Fitzgerald decided to dig himself for some reason.

The music too. It gets so much flack but I totally get what Baz was going for and it was honestly a little ahead of its time in 2013. To take a very White story (I could talk about the implications of Jay being mixed/black/otherwise poc all day) and apply our generation's equivalent of jazz ("oversexualized black people music") to forcing modern white audiences to face the fact that we absolutely will still sit here and find any reason to try and justify the erasure of black influence on the culture of America at any given point—it's chef's kiss. Shut the fuck up about it. I'm tired of hearing shit about the music being anachronistic. Yes, I would have loved to hear more period-accurate rejuvenated jazz covers in there. NO it would not be swing because hey bitch that too is anachronistic, it wasn't around in 1922. You can't have it both ways. Baz had a point to make and he teamed up with JAY Z to make it and yet again a bunch of white nerds got mad that they had to confront their internalized racism.

Yes, it is that deep. Everything is. To pretend it isn't is cowardice.

Anyway! The CGI pisses me off. It always will. If it's marvel or mordor I really don't give a damn, with that kind of budget you can afford some practical effects and save the CGI for moments where it can ACCENTUATE the practical effects to heighten the sense of mystification Nick undoubtedly felt upon entering this world. There's just no excuse for a lot of their effects and it's very disappointing to think of them trying to act in all these hollow blue environments.

Finally, FINALLY there's some depth to nick and jay's interactions. There's been this sort of disconnect in every other adaptation thus far and I'll give credit to Tobey Maguire and Leo DiCaprio for being friends for six thousand years before taking these roles, because the chemistry is Something Else.

that being said. tobey maguire was a really weird choice for nick carraway. I...don't really see it. I've called it Gooberfication before, as if they're sort of dumbing down his character and making him more palatable for the audience. I don't think it was an acting choice on Tobey's part but a choice made by the filmmakers themselves. There's no point in the book where Nick tries to make himself out as this friendly aw shucks ah geez scuse me ass goober, even when he's trying to claim he's like this unjudgemental dude. He lets you know outright that he'll do just about anything to get out of a conversation. He lies about his relationships, breaks up with people on a whim, is cynical and critical and has a barb to his tongue EVEN AROUND JAY (like when he considers asking to see Jay's rubies, knowing damn well he doesn't have any fuckin rubies.) And that's BEFORE jay dies. He's even worse after that, and I do appreciate the framing device of having Nick write this book while in recovery from...That Event.

which brings me to Baz Luhrmann Ships Natsby, Fuck You. He does. Oh my god. How are they queerer here than in actual fics I've written? Literal fireworks when they meet??? Nick being the one to call jay and hear the gunfire. that is his HUSBAND. "he did not know it (his dream) was already behind him" AS NICK STANDS BEHIND AN IMAGINED VERSION OF JAY. NICK HAVING TO PUT HIMSELF AWAY IN A MENTAL HOSPITAL AFTER GRIEVING HIM FOR YEARS???? BECOMING AN ALCOHOLIC INSOMNIAC WITH DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, AND FITS OF ANGER?????????????? BECAUSE HIS NEIGHBOR HE KNEW FOR THREE MONTHS DIED???????????????????????????? H. HELLO?

GOD.

Anyway. Speaking of their meeting, the song used in the background is Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin, which was professed by Fitz to have been THEE gatsby song, so that's a very nice touch. All the newspapers about Jay are written by prior Fitz characters. Even the clippings in Jay's scrapbooks attempt to add realism to the world but they...don't make sense entirely but that's fine. I know the filmmakers read at least Trimalchio but I don't know if they read the Princeton Draft. Either way, good on them.

Will never forgive this film for twinkifying Nick Carraway. Will never forgive it for planting the seed of top jay/bottom nick in the minds of the youth. I completely blame this movie for it. I don't think Jay was even topping Daisy at this point. He couldn't top a sundae. Even if he's played by Leonardo DiCaprio.

SPEAKING OF DAISY!!!!! I think Carey Mulligan did a damn good job at playing her accurately and as as much of a person as she could while still having the film's pov limited to Nick. Carey's a very good actor and she pretty clearly did her research to play Daisy, and was just very well cast. Now if the costume designers had simply allowed her to keep her natural hair color. Same with Jordan/Elizabeth Debicki. Daisy's brunette. Jordan's blonde. It's right there in the book in several places. I've talked about it forever. WHY would you go to the effort to change your actors' appearances when they were already accurate? Why? Why? Are you incapable of imagining a desirable woman who isn't blonde?

that being said, all jordan bakers should be 6'3. Elizabeth debicki, no notes.

tom's fine in this one. myrtle and George are too. chester actually gets to like. appear onscreen and try to get nick into the bedroom but UGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH of COURSE there's no elevator scene because nothing is ever fair or right or good. that's not MY chester (iykyk) but it is certainly A chester which is better than NO chester.

I would like to say that the Plaza scene in this film is the best of any of them. I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jay was at a point in his health that if Wilson hadn't killed him, a heart attack would, and that's precisely the behavior exhibited in 2013's plaza scene. This is a man who has been twisting himself up into a tighter and tighter ball his entire life and has now just fucking sprung open because he's realized this is it, this is the end, everything I have done has been entirely pointless and I'm about the lose the one last fucking thing I have to live for and it's my fault because everything has been since the day I was born. Like I won't say it's 'mask off' and this would have been some sort of normal explosive behavior for him if he did end up getting to 'keep' daisy (because obviously shes An Object,,,,, right,,,,) but this...was coming regardless of whether tom dragged it out of him or not. it really exhibits just how much was going on behind the scenes that not even nick was privy to. just imagine how much pressure wolfshiem put on him in the end to keep going, keep working, as if his life isn't on the cusp of completely turning upside down.

(putting a space here because tumblr got mad about how much I wrote.)

that's one tiny little thing I absolutely adore about 2013. it's a blink and you'll miss it moment where meyer AND GOONS are in jay's office and he asks jay what's going on. It's so simple but so fucking menacing. it's so subtle. the implication that meyer has jay in a chokehold and the more time he spends with daisy, the more meyer gets pissed, and the more meyer gets pissed, the more likely he'll cut jay out of the business entirely, and jay's holding on to this tiny little string of assurance that he can manage it all for daisy and it's worth it for daisy and he's still the pretty face for the front of the company and meyer NEEDS him for that and if meyer needs him then it'll be okay, he can balance daisy and the business it'll be FINE—until it isn't, obviously. he originally turned daisy down when she suggested running away because all his money is tied up with meyer and if he runs, either meyer will track him down and kill him because he knows too much or he has to start over again. of course eventually he comes around to realize that running is their only option but it's too late and he knows that by the time he blows up at the plaza. he hit his breaking point and ruined everything. and leonardo DiCaprio is the only one who I think really captured just how fucking wound up jay really was.

I'm not talking about the broadway musical anymore

but if i were to make my own gatsby film...

I've never actually thought about it enough to pin down a cast. I have, however, considered that if for whatever reason I was given the opportunity to make any sort of adaptation of it, I'd probably have a black Jay regardless, and I think Ncuti Gatwa would be a really fun choice. Look at him. Imagine you're drunk and gay and this is across the table. Nick I get it.

I would try to keep in line with the book as best I could, though, because it's important to me. I live and breathe the history of this novel and I can see all the lives woven into each minute detail and I would hate to not do it justice.

...

Otherwise...I do spend hours a day daydreaming about turning Gatsby into a limited series a la Anne with an E, albeit more adult in nature due to the subject matter. But I can see it in my head so clearly. I wish wish wish I could. Maybe one day. If only.

[snekdood]

Yknow what makes me reaentful? How ive been sexually abused so much growing up, no one did shit besides shove me off to a therapist, ive been promised by feminist spaces that ill have a place to heal within them, and as soon as my abusive ex tries to smear me and project their behavior on to me by accusing me of doing that shit too, all the sudden everyone acts suspicious, and i still dont get any of that promised healing. Its hard not to feel like my ex did this intentionally to prevent me from having a space to heal. And its my issue with the "believe victims" narrative because it seems to me like people dont actually want to believe victims but to believe the victims they *like* and *agree more with politically*. If people can just say whatever about someone and you feel obligated to believe them because "believe victims", its very clearly going to be exploited by abusive people, and while i dont think we should stop per se, we need to have some sort of actual system to vet who is and isnt telling the truth, like a pseudo-courtroom. At the very least let everyone and their side of the story actually be heard. Bc idk how you guys plan to believe two victims at once who are accusing eachother other than throwing your hands up and picking one or deciding that we're both bad, which doesnt seem very fair to me since people seem to looove demonizing me for no discernable reason.

[falesten-iw]

Nothing can truly show you the reality of what's happening in Gaza, not a picture, not a video, and not even words. The truth is far worse than anything an image can capture. Families are not just enduring genocide, they’re being erased. Their history, their homes, their existence, wiped away like they were never there.

What’s left behind? Bits and pieces. Fragments. A scrap of fabric here, a shattered memory there. People are still trapped beneath the rubble. Some are alive, their voices weak but desperate, pleading for help that will never come. There’s no rescue equipment. No teams to save them. And anyone brave enough to try is met with drones, striking down anyone who gets close.

Those who’ve managed to survive aren’t just hungry, they’re freezing. Imagine huddling in a makeshift tent, shaking not just from fear but from the biting cold that seeps into your bones. The wind tears through everything, ripping apart whatever tiny bit of warmth you’ve managed to cling to. Inside the tent, there’s no comfort. Only the sound of bodies rustling as they try to stay warm, muffled cries of grief, and the haunting sound of people buried beneath the rubble, their faint cries for help echoing in the dark.

The cold doesn’t care. It doesn’t spare anyone—not children, not parents, not the elderly. It sinks into everyone, leaving them numb, both physically and emotionally. Hunger takes what little strength they have left, and the cold takes their hope. This isn’t some tragic story from the past—it’s happening right now. These are my people. This is my family.

A single line can hold the weight of an entire story, and a single choice can save a life. What if you skipped that extra coffee, brush pack, or subscription and put that money toward rescuing lives in Gaza ? One small sacrifice from you could provide food, warmth, or even survival to my family who’ve lost everything.

You might wonder, “Does it really matter? Can I make a difference?” The answer is yes. Every dollar you give is a line of hope, a stand against the darkness. Don’t let this story fade. Don’t let Gaza disappear into silence.

Please help us and donate now if you can, and reblog this post to spread our story.

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[sinner-as-saint]

drag me under

Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader 

Run-through: After what has to be one of the most exhausting and exasperating meetings he’s ever had with the Bishop and Mother Superior, Father Charlie desperately needs a quick release. It was wrong, he knew and he’d repent for it later. Except, what he thought was going to stay as a secret between him and God ends up involving a third witness – you. 

Themes: smut, explicit language, mentions of infidelity, degrading kink

Fuck. He was close. 

He’d shut himself inside the confessional booth a few minutes ago because he absolutely needed to get his mind off certain things. Those meetings always left him feeling like a damned pressure cooker, and he always needed to let out some steam after. 

All that arguing, and having to keep his cool and maintain composure when all he wanted to do was yell and tell them all that he was right and they were wrong. It had to be the generational gap, but sometimes he felt like he was being tortured with how much his mindset differed from those of his superiors. Why couldn’t they just let him do things his way? 

But he pushed all that aside for a moment. Just a moment, that’s all he needed. Fist wrapped around his throbbing cock, his spit and precum giving him just the right amount of lubricant, his head thrown back against the thick wood as he worked his fist up and down his cock, as fast as he could. 

He tried to keep his gasps and moans as quiet as possible. It was late in the afternoon, there wouldn’t be anyone around during this time, but just in case. A groan left his lips anyway, and he bit his lip immediately after. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… 

He could hear how fast his fist moved, the friction was almost just as good as how he remembered sinking into a warm body felt like. Almost, not quite as exhilarating though. 

Fuck! 

A few more tugs, a couple more unrestrained moans later, and he came with a loud sigh. Spilling all over his hand, gasping for breath as he blinked a couple times, already feeling his thoughts flowing much easier. His all black suit, his collar around his neck didn’t feel as tight and constricting anymore. 

He quickly cleaned himself up with a handkerchief he’d have to put in the trash later, he sighed one more time as he made sure to fix his clothes and was about to walk out of the booth when he heard a timid, soft, almost hesitant voice ask: 

“Are you done, Father?” 

He froze. 

Shit. 

He cleared his throat. It sounded like a young woman on the other side. He tried to look but the screen only allowed him a partial view of your face. Okay, okay, don’t panic. He could still get out of this situation. Maybe you didn’t hear what he was doing. Maybe you’d just gotten in here. Maybe you were too naive to even know what those sounds were. 

He cleared his throat again, “How, uh, how long have you been waiting for?” He tried his hardest to sound apologetic for making you wait. 

A moment of silence. Then you replied, “Long enough.” 

That voice. He knew that voice, didn’t he? 

He said your name out loud. A pause then, “Is it you?” He asked. 

A sigh. Then, “Yes, Father.” 

Ah. He let out a quiet breath, relieved. 

He had no reason to worry if it was you. You were what he called a lost little lamb, too innocent for her own good. He knew your family. They were nice people who frequented the church, and lately your parents had been worried about you since they found out that you had a troublesome boyfriend who was nowhere near the god-fearing type your family wanted you to date. 

He also knew that you, unlike your parents, were not seen very often at church. He saw you here and there, sometimes at charity events, or sometimes at the tennis court with your mom. But never in the confessional booth. 

Father Charlie sat up straight, looked ahead at the wooden door and asked, “This is your first confession?” 

“Yes, Father.” 

“And what would you like to confess?” He asked, knowing he was going about this all wrong. No signs of the cross, no ‘Bless me Father for I have sinned’, but he was impatient and… intrigued. What could a shy, timid girl like you have to confess?

“I… I slept with my boyfriend.” 

He couldn’t help but turn towards the screen. He watched you as you fidgeted and squirmed. “Did you?” He didn’t recognise his own voice. 

“Yes, Father.” You answered. “But that’s not all.” 

“Oh?” 

A trembled sigh left your lips, then you said, “While we were, um, when he was...” You struggled to speak. 

And Father Charlie felt weirdly interested all of a sudden, so he urged, “It’s okay, you’re safe here.” He cooed gently, using the soothing voice he always used with everyone. “Use your big girl words, come on. When he was, what?” 

“Father, I cannot say it.” Your words sounded heavy with shame. 

So he urged you even further, “Like I said, you’re safe here. Now tell me. When he was, what? On top of you? Fucking you? What happened, did he hurt you?” 

“No,” You said quickly. “No, he was… gentle.” 

Father Charlie raised an eyebrow, “And?” 

You let out a shaky breath and confessed, “I wanted him to…” You trailed off, “I know it’s wrong to want these kinds of things, but I didn’t want him to be gentle. I wanted him to be rough. To make it hurt.” 

Another shaky breath left your lips, and this time Father Charlie felt like he was the tormented one. He frowned as he looked down and noticed that he was hard again. Shit. 

He cleared his throat again. “I see.” 

But you were quick to add, “It’s wrong, isn’t it? To want things like that? Isn’t it, Father?” 

There was a strangely innocent desperation in your voice even as you referred to sinful things. The kind of innocence he wanted to take into his hands and crumble it into pieces but also preserve it at the same time. 

Fuck, he was hard. And it was painful because you were right there. 

“Depends,” He answered, “What other things do you find yourself wanting?” A small, quiet gasp left your mouth. Father Charlie caught himself smirking at the sound of it. “And don’t lie. I can’t help you if you lie.” He noticed movement on the other side of the screen. Maybe your hand touching your neck out of nervousness. 

“I… I like being told what to do. I like authority. I like…,” You gasped, as if not believing you were actually saying all this out loud, “I like it, I mean I like the idea of men being mean to me, in bed. I want them to take what they want from me, with consent of course. But I don’t want them to be gentle about it.” 

Oh fuck. 

“That’s, uh…” He found himself at a loss for words. His cock was making his trousers tighter. His hands were shaking with the need to grab and feel a warm body. Preferably that of a shy young woman who thought she should be ashamed of her desires. “Yes, that’s not right.” He did his best to sound stern and disappointed. 

A soft sound came from the other side. Sounding a lot like a sniffle. “I’m sorry, Father.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. “I should go.” 

It all happened too quickly. The sound of the door opening, the sound of you trying to rush and get out. Before he knew it, he was out of the booth as well and stopping you from leaving. Your wrist in his hand, his chest heaving, tears down your face, a shocked look in your eyes. 

“Did I say you could leave?” He asked, looking down at you and noticing the way you didn’t even fight him. Aww, a lost little lamb indeed. 

“No.” You whispered, going along with the movement as he walked you backwards until your back hit the nearest wall, beside the booth. 

“You’re disobedient,” He noted, “I should punish you for that.” 

“Yes,” You mumbled, like you were ready to be punished for your sins. 

“Yes, what?” He chided. 

“Yes, Father.” 

And oh, how he would’ve loved to have you on your knees in front of him. To have his cock in your mouth. To make real tears stream down your face, ruining your makeup. But he didn't have too much time. 

He stepped closer, trapping you between the wall and his hard body. He noted the way your eyes remained fixated on his white collar, those teary, innocent eyes. You didn’t even know the treasure you were. 

“Look at me,” He ordered. 

You did. Unable to look away once you did. 

“You’ve been a bad girl, you know that, don’t you?” He asked. You nodded at him. “And I need to punish you, because I need to make sure you’re good from now on, don’t I?” You nodded at his words again. “Good,” He whispered, then grabbed both your hands and placed them on his shoulders as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours. 

He fucking that little gasp of surprise that left your mouth as he kissed you, hot and messy. His hands reached down and bunched your dress up before he slipped his hand in between your legs.

He chuckled into the kiss when he felt your flimsy underwear. “See now, good girls don’t wear things like this. You understand?” He whispered, running his knuckles along your wet folds and smearing your arousal around through the thin fabric. “I’m gonna have to take it off, okay?” 

You nodded again. 

And he did, he slid your underwear down until it fell to your ankles. He watched as you stepped out of them and he immediately slid his knee in between your legs, followed by his hand again. “This is all part of your punishment,” He whispered into your ear, and watched how you shivered upon feeling his warm breath. He slipped his two fingers into you with ease and smirked against your skin as he felt your arousal coating his fingers, which he curled inside of you, hitting all the spots which made you gasp and moan.

You whimpered and closed your eyes, sighing and moaning when he leaned down and nibbled on your skin around your throat. He chuckled, sliding his fingers in and out of you, “See what a little slut you are? Cheating on your boyfriend, and letting me touch you however I please,” He scoffed, “Is this what you came to do? Was this your intention?” 

You bucked your hips against his hand impatiently. “Please,” You murmured. 

He pulled his fingers out, and messed with his belt, undoing it and the zipper on his trousers until he pulled his cock out. “Please what?” He asked, rubbing his wet fingers along his hard cock, “Huh? What do you want?” 

You looked up at him, pleading with your eyes. 

“Oh?” He taunted, “You want this cock? Huh?” He leaned in and grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks together, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke in a lowered voice that sent shivers down your back, “Does this little slut need a cock in her?” 

“Yes,” You murmured, unable to take it anymore. 

“Yes, what?” He growled. 

“Yes, Father.” You quickly corrected yourself. 

He smirked, smug. Then he lifted you up until you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your back against the wall, and the two of you partially hidden by the booth. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you moaned out loud. 

“Shh,” He reminded you, “Quiet.” 

“Please,” You whined, eyes shut. “Please, Father…” 

“Shut up,” He hissed as he aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance. “Shut your needy little mouth up.” 

You moaned as he pushed himself into you. Stretching you out as he went. His nails digging painfully into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours sliding into his hair as he filled you up nicely. 

“So fucking wet for me…” He whispered against your cheek as he rocked in and out of you. “I bet you’re not this wet for your little boyfriend, huh? Does he feel this good? This big?” He chuckled. “Does he know you let random men fuck you?” 

You were a mess, moaning and whimpering when he began moving in and out of you. His cock reached places that had you whining out loud. 

“Shh,” He hissed again, “Shut up, you little slut. Shut the fuck up.” He groaned as he fucked you. He kept an eye on your surroundings, just in case someone wandered in. 

But you kept moaning like crazy so he did the only thing his lust-filled brain could think of, he brought out his soiled handkerchief from earlier and shoved it in your mouth, and slapped his hand over your mouth. “Yeah, that’ll shut your filthy mouth up, huh? Is this what you wanted? Your boyfriend doesn’t fuck you like the needy little whore you are, does he?” 

Your moans sounded muffled now, and he fucked you relentlessly, earning more and more muffled whines and moans and whimpers out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. He loved the way your eyes rolled back when he fucked you harder, reaching deeper. 

He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust. “Filthy girl.” He sped up into you again, making you cry out. “So fucking desperate, aren’t you? You couldn’t help but spread your legs for me, huh? Even for a man of God? You couldn’t help it.” He taunted. “What else would you do for me? Would you come here everyday and let me have you? Hmm? Would you let me fuck your needy little pussy like your boyfriend can’t?” 

He knew you couldn’t answer him, so he chuckled and continued as he felt your walls clench around his cock. Fuck, he had missed this. He’d missed making a beautiful girl lose control while he was inside her. He knew you couldn’t think right, he was so fucking deep inside you that all you could do was whine and cry, and let him take what he wanted from you. Which is exactly what he did. He didn’t stop. He kept fucking you harder and faster against the wall. 

His hand left your mouth, making sure his handkerchief remained nice and snug in there, and reached down until he wrapped his fingers around your throat, he squeezed just enough to make your eyes widen. “Yes,” He goaded you, “You like that, don’t you? Your messed up little head likes this,” He taunted. “It’s filthy in there, isn’t it? You think about these things at night? When you touch yourself before going to bed? Is this what you’ll be thinking about from now on?” 

Your body shuddered, trembling in pleasure. He looked down and noticed the slight cleavage of your sweet little dress. Fuck, he wished he had time to really peel it off your body and have you crawl around naked just so he could look at you. He was sure he could spend a lot of time just looking. 

“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” He chuckled, his body moving expertly against yours, “No, how could he? He’s just a boy. He wouldn’t even know what to do with a dirty girl like you.” He leaned in, whispering against your wet cheek, “This is what you needed. I’m what you need.” 

Your mind was a foggy mess already, and he could tell by the muffled by wanton moans that he could still hear that you were so, so close. 

“I bet he doesn’t even come inside you, does he?” He scoffed, “I think he’d be too scared to do that.” He pulled away and looked into your eyes. “But you want me to come inside you, don’t you? Remember, it’s all part of your punishment. You wanna be a good girl and take all of it, don’t you?” 

You nodded quickly, more tears streaming down your face. 

“Go on then, you little slut. Come for me. Come all over this cock like the needy, desperate whore you are.” He let out a strained moan, “I said,” He spoke, menacingly, “Come for me!” 

Your body tensed up, legs tightening around his waist, hands tugging at his hair, before you let go and came undone around his cock. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching his neck and a loud muffled moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. 

Father Charlie groaned as he came shortly after, spilling inside of you. And fuck, even he could feel how much he filled you up. 

He pulled the now wet cloth out of your mouth as you both felt his warm cum dripping down your inner thighs. He replaced the handkerchief with his fingers, gliding two of them across your tongue, in and out of your lips as he said, “You’ll come back, won’t you?” He whispered against the corner of your mouth as you caught your breath while sucking on his fingers. “Now that you got a taste of what it’s like, you’ll be back as often as you can just to let me fuck you again. Won’t you, little lamb?” 

—

a/n: call me sister megan bc i’m frothing–

[riaki]

ur highschool bully gojo was chefs kiss 💋 what do u think about them going to the same college and taking the same classes?? and the reader sitting next/talking to some other guy and satoru gets jealous?? arwahhhshdhshshs so many possibilities, i hope u continue writing it!!

hi nonnie !! thank you so much :) this is ur official part 2 ! i was struggling to think up some possibilities but this helped a lot :oo | read part 1 here ! -> cw: swearing, jealousy, i let it get fic length oops

(former) highschoolbully!gojo on the brain again… like. when you end up seeing him again however many months later, and you can tell that he’s changed. it’s not like its immediately obvious to anyone who doesn’t really know him like you (used to); but he’s a little softer-spoken and his smiles seem nine times more genuine. it’s not a hundred percent; the kind that really lights up his face instead of just barely falling short of his stark blue eyes, but it's something.

of course, you have nothing to base it off of, because when you do inevitably see him again it's the very definition of meet ugly.

college is a new frontier, but its also a clean slate. its your first time going into something so new without your old bestfriend at your side, but some faint flickering thought reminds you that it might be better that way. but the universe is against you from the very first day, when youre gettin yourself some coffee from the same chain you did the morning of that fateful presentation so many moons ago. you're too busy thinking to yourself what kind of strange parting ritual it is to relive your trauma to notice the lanky, white-haired boy who hits his head on the chiming bell over the doorway. people are giggling around you n sighing dreamily but youre too deep in the music pumping through your headphones to notice and your eyes are glued to the class schedule on your phone, trying to ensure you dont get lost on the first day when—

you blink and your ass is flat on the dirty floor of the coffee shop, and the first thing you register is that your stomach is soaked and burning. you'd spilled your coffee. it takes you a moment to realize, but when you do you're pissed. so you quickly get to your feet, trying to reign in what little of your ego you have left to give the offender who bumped into you a piece of your mind as you look up, then..

how unlucky do you have to be?

just like that, satoru's slid himself back into your life, after ramming through its locked gates. you forget that he always forgets the point of keys, both when it comes to his apartment (which you still have the spare key of in case of emergencies), and the door to your heart. to rub salt in the wound, the only thing that's stained with your coffee order are his shoes, which look like they cost three weeks of your old job salary, but it's all over your shirt. of course it is. because why not? make it look like you tripped and fell into a patch of mud on your way to the lecture hall and tack on an unwelcome reunion with your ex-bestfriend.

to you, it's like the cloud of gloom from your highschool youth has resettled over your head like a swarm of gnats on a dreary, hot summer day. the stars always seem to skew and misalign themselves for you. but for satoru, the stars have handed him one of those huge swirly lollipops that you only ever see being paraded about by toddlers. he recovers almost instantly, trading the burn on his feet and the way it sours your expression like he's just squirted pure citric acid into your throat for a pleasant burn of his own on his cheeks. but it's whatever. girls seem to like it when he blushes, for some reason. he won't question it, if it works on the only one he cares about.

he holds his hand out, ready to help you out like the good samaritan he's become— and it's like a real burn to his heart this time when you ignore it and stand up on your own, refusing to look up and meet his pleading gaze. might as well have taken an iron stoker right out of the fire and jabbed him with it. but he's gojo satoru! he won't be defeated by this one mere, maybe very significant reunion. he's got stamina.

so he offers to buy you a new drink, feels his heart sink when you shake your head (can't even spare a little 'no' in his direction), and talks enough for the both of you when you leave the dingy little store make your way down to campus and the lecture building. you clearly don't want to see him, but he ignores that in exchange to notice the way you shiver every so often. the previously searing-hot coffee that stains your shirt turns cold fast, and moisture n wind don't mix well. he wishes he could offer you some of his own warm coffee, no doubt sickeningly sweet, but he has some sensitivity now, apparently. so, in a brash moment, he decides to take his blazer off and drape it over your shoulders instead.

when you cross the threshold between city and campus, you expect him to yank it off your back and be on his merry way. but he keeps walking next to you, so you walk a little faster, and you absolutely loathe the cheeky little grin that curves the corners of his lips up to show a glint of teeth when he effortlessly keeps up. you curse his long legs when you find yourself winded, but at least you can lose him when you get there.

or, that's what you think. once again, your constellations break themselves to rebuild anew for satoru. you're about to call him a stalker when he follows you all the way to your classroom with that smirk that's growing exponentially until— oh, no.

your phone that's been on the schedule up until now desperately scrolls to the roster— and there it is. he's in your class. needless to say, not another word goes between you as you stomp in and take a seat. luckily for you, you've already corresponded with your roommate's brother (who's annoyingly cute, satoru notices) and agreed to sit next to each other. satoru takes the seat right above you and never stops kicking his freakishly long legs against the wood the entire time.

so yeah, it's obvious he's not a saint; he still has that undoable ego and he's cocky as fuck (as you have the misfortune of finding out when he quickly bullies your professor), but there's a certain familiarity in that no matter how ugly it might appear to others. and if you asked (which he really, really hopes you will someday), he doesn't hang around douchebags who use kids' foreheads for ashtrays and treat girls like they're candy from a glittery pez dispenser. and at least he's switched harassment targets. even though he has an overwhelming sense of superiority over others and never has his lips together for more than five seconds, and even though he has this hellish habit of clicking his pen whenever he's not talking (or when someone else is), it seems like he's changed.

and over time, you gradually find yourself warming up to him. the spunkiness that used to get on your nerves ceaselessly becomes an object of endearment, and you don't really mind the way he never seems to stop moving anymore. it's a nice sort of distraction in the lifeless still of the lecture hall, albeit the pen clicking still drives you near insanity. you notice he always does it obnoxiously and quickly when you're talking to your roommate's brother, but you ignore it.

and for satoru? he hates that he can kinda sorta really tell that you're the only one who can read him like he's a damn book, cus you slowly start to soften up in the nostalgia of his presence like cold playdough between warm fingers that tell you he may have finally caught you again after letting you slip the first time. and he notices it. this time, he's determined not to let you be the one that got away again. but youre really giving him a shit time outta it with the way you constantly entertain the guy who always has his breath in your face.

yeah, he's got a cute face that's sunkissed by freckles. yeah, his hair looks like he models for shampoo companies. and fuck, he has a nice voice. but what of it? satoru's the one with the mesmerizing blue irises and the cloudy white hair your professor wishes he had instead of sad little wisps of old age. still, as chilly days turn into frigid weeks, he gets the perfect backseat angle of the growing relationship between the two of you. the boy's kinda dumb so you copy off of satoru’s work when you need to (he has to hide the 1-0 scoreboard between him and the guy on a sticky note from you when you take his notes), but said guy’s always buying you stuff and lending you erasers and laughing when you flick the shavings at the annoying girl who never stops whispering in the front of the room.

satoru tries to act unbothered, and he almost convinces everyone. including himself. but the angry, burning knot in his chest that's entirely different from coffee stains suggests something more. that should be him at your side. him, making balls of paper with rude scribbles and silly doodles to throw at the people he knows you don't like. him, surprising you with little gifts and the cheap trinkets he knows you adore so much instead of all the luxury things he could afford. there's no way this punk could possibly measure up to him, right? but at least you and satoru are well on your way to becoming friends again. not as close as you used to be, but it's something. substantial. and he's learned to be patient in the time you've been gone.

but he'd be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't tired of it. he’s endlessly plagued with thoughts of increasing intensity— first, it starts out with just you. only you. the way he likes it. the way he likes your face, and your pretty eyes and your gorgeous lips and your soft hair and your figure and the complimenting clothes you wear. but it takes a turn; thoughts turn into dreams that turn into fantasies and he's lying when he says he doesn't enjoy them when he accidentally lets it slip during a group study session— and it’s all fine— but then, that guy appears. the brat who seems to sit a centimeter closer to you with each coming day. not only does he haunt satoru in real life, he’s tormenting his dreams, too. tainting the image of beautiful you.

needless to say, satoru starts to wake up with his hands gripping his damp pillow like he's choking it, acutely aware of the sweat sliding down his neck and over his chest as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the dorm's air conditioner run and thinking of what it'd be like for dreams (the ones where he replaces the boy) to become reality.

it's a buildup. and soon, he reaches the apex; it's like a rollercoaster, that stomach-twisting moment when you reach the top of the rail that points to the steep descent downward. but this time, he hopes it's a thrill he gets instead of the usual falling fright; the one he got when he realized he’d slipped between your fingers in highschool.

and satoru finally comes to a grinding halt at the top of the ride one breezy fall day when he decides he wants you back in his life after you smile brightly at him and wave goodbye for the day. he’s tired of you having one foot in and one foot out of his heart; he wants, needs more. he always has, he realizes.

so he’s thinking about you and how to approach the feelings he’s realized during those long lectures, and one morning he comes up with some semblance of a plan when he’s high on the sugar from the fruit tea you bought him that morning. and he hopes that, by the end of it, he'll leave your apartment with your hand in his currently empty one, chilled with the remnants of cold condensation from the bottle.

soon enough, satoru finds himself extinguishing his nerves and raising a tense fist to knock on the door with nothing but the clothes on his back and a flimsy plan to ask you out on a midterm study sesh and maybe even a date, but he stops when he realizes it’s slightly ajar. a brief thought of what look might be on your face when he surprises you crosses his mind, so he lets himself in quietly, because he knows every single floorboard that creaks like the back of his palm from his childhood. he’s hit with a wave of warmth and an achingly familiar scent that twists at his heart, and your apartment is cozy and safe and it screams you and he thinks he catches sight of his jacket slung across the back of the couch in your living room, but he’s not sure so he takes a step forward and—

he’s greeted with the sight of that stupid guy with the nice hair and the freckles, and it makes his heart drop. but even worse, he’s kissing you and his arms are winding around your waist but you’re kissing him back with a slight hesitation that’s blinded to satoru by his shock and the fingers he thought would end up in his own tonight card through the boy’s hair and your lips glisten with the strawberry-kiwi flavored gloss he watched the boy give you a few days back and his world is turning red and he feels like his throat is constricting and he can’t breathe—

and he doesn’t even realize you’ve parted lips and you’re calling his name through the newfound tightness of his chest and the painful ringing in his ears thats even louder than any silence of a lecture hall, or the void that should’ve been filled with your voice during the time you were apart. but now satoru realizes he’d take that any fucking chance to have that again because it’s so much better than what he’s stuck with now. having you, but not really having you, because you’re there but you’re someone else’s and you’re not his and he isn’t yours. the best thing he could ever hope for was for you to own an article of his clothing and a piece of his shattered heart, broken into a million fragments. some cruel voice in his buzzing head reminds him to change the scoreboard to 0-100.

and he could buy you cheap hot coffee or earn your smiles from scrunched up paper balls or even hear your laugh with crude jokes, but there’s no point when he realizes he can’t buy you with caffeine or earn you with hitting the back of people’s heads with his bio notes or have you and your laugh all to himself anymore.

it’s almost pathetic, the way satoru’s voice cracks and changes. the look of unadulterated concern on the face of the boy who stole your lips just adds fuel to the fire.

“gojo? what are you doing here— hey, are you okay? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

he noticed you’d stopped calling him satoru a few weeks back. he should’ve seen it coming.

“huh? oh, yeah. i’m good. i think you’re the one hallucinating.”

he’d never told a bigger lie in his life.

satoru had left after excusing himself for intruding. how very unlike him to be so polite, you think.

so in the end, he leaves your apartment with something in his hand, after all. but it's not your own— just his blazer that you’d given back to him before he stepped out the door, taunting him with the faint scent of coffee and lingering perfume. his hope was foolish, so it seems. it’s too bad, he thinks. if it were him, he would’ve sandwiched you against your counter while he kissed. but it wasn’t. apparently, it was your turn for your stars to align at the price of his.

and so, gojo satoru, the boy force-turned man with a chipped ego and a completely broken heart, loses you again.

bonus bonus.. part 2….

[misslovasstuff]

Things that they say which make you weak in the knees

fem!reader x op!men: Zoro, Sanji, Law.

information: nsfw content is marked aside.

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Zoro

“You’re so pretty when you fight”

The way you just send that guy flying with just one punch makes me think you can be so ruthless sometimes… I like it.”

“You decided to wear the most seductive perfume for me to get drunk on.”

“Come, rest on my lap.”

“I want to hold your hand just in case you get lost, you know…”

“I’ll never let you out of my grip.”

“You’re the sword I point to myself, my greatest weakness.”

“One more tear coming from your eyes and I’ll let the world know what it means to live in hell.”

“I got you one of those hair clips you like.”

“You’ve gotten stronger, so it will be soon enough that you will surpass curly eyebrows.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Well, can’t blame a man for not being able to say no to his woman.“

“You’re one of the strongest people I know, babe. Don’t get discouraged.”

“You feeding me food just made my whole day.”

“Just because I’m with a beautiful woman does not mean I know how I did it alright?”

“Beautiful, everything about you is so beautiful.”

“I’ve missed you all day, a lot.”

“Please say it one more time, say it again that you love me.”

NSFW

“Fuck baby, you’re tightening around me so much.”

“You like doing the exact opposite of what I tell you, huh? Then don’t bend over and absolutely don’t scream my name while I’m at it.”

“Every hole of yours takes me so well. Does your body only accept my cock?”

“You’ve been fantasising about this moment, right?”

“Spit out all the positions you’ve imagined yourself with me. We’re going to try them all.”

“Your gaze on me is so intense, what do you want baby? Whisper to me all your nasty thoughts?”

“I like it when you scream like that, go even louder if you want. Let yourself go wild, I’m here with you, I got you.”

“Look at yourself, your hips are moving on their own. Are you this eager for me?”

“Leaving all these marks on my skin, what do you want to show? That I’m yours? There is none in the world who doesn’t know that I belong to you.”

Sanji

“Where does your beauty come from? The heavens?”

“I haven’t really known love before laying my eyes on you.”

“Mon amour, the dress I got looks marvellous on you, my goodness…I can’t look away. Don’t mind your boyfriend staring at you for a while.”

“I made your favourite dessert, love. And no, it won’t make you fat, and no it was not a bother for me. You’re never a bother for me cher. Now open your mouth.”

“Who hurt you like this? Tell me. I know you’re kind and don’t want to hurt anyone, but I need to meet the bastard who did this to you.”

“Pretty girl looking at the pretty sunset not knowing she’s prettier, no, the prettiest!”

“Your hair has grown so beautifully during the past few months, sweetheart. You look like a fairy princess.”

“Wait I don’t want you to go and leave me alone with mosshead! Pleaseeeee, baby nooooo!”

“Is this guy bothering you?”

“Look man, can’t you see the lady has no interest in you whatsoever? Keep walking and don’t you dare even to look back at her, bastard!”

“I read the little note you left for me in the kitchen, it’s still not funny that you sign with a spiral brow every time.”

NSFW

“I’ll start begging if you keep teasing me like this, mon cœur.”

“So afraid to kiss your lips and taint them with mine. How can I not tremble when I touch something so heavenly?

“Slow down, Angel. All this is here for you.”

“You taste so good, I want more…more…”

“Such a good girl for putting your legs over my shoulders, you know what your boyfriend likes, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes, baby exactly like that. Move your tongue around it just like that.”

“Feel how deep I am in you, feel it, touch it.

“Is it alright if I start moving it? Well, perhaps it’d be good to ask myself that too because I’m feeling so overwhelmed right now.”

“Mon amour, tell me how you like it, tell me what you want, I’ll do it all for you.”

“I’ve been thinking all day of being inside you.”

“Your boobs pull my hands like magnets. Let them be the hill I die on.”

“I’m restraining my moans cause I know you’ll make fun of me later. However, I can’t help but whimper under your touch.”

“I’ll fuck you like the very first day. You remember what position you were in, don’t you? Then, be a good girl and bend over for me.”

Law

“You don’t have to put all the pressure on yourself. I’m here so relax.”

“How come you’re so confident and so shy at them same time? That’s adorable.”

“Go out with me, I promise I’ll make you the happiest woman in all the seas!”

“I could never foresee experiencing this feeling. Is this what it feels like to fall in love? Do you…do you feel it too?”

“I’ve done many mistakes in my life but you are not one.”

“I found you, someone I want to protect and risk my life for. How can I gather the strength to let go of your hand now?”

“I’m not blushing! It’s not blush it’s just the freaking sun!”

“Look, it’s hard talking about feelings ok? I need a moment to think how to not completely crumble when I gaze at your eyes.”

“How can someone so precious like you exist?”

“Your soul radiates a light so strong that it pushes off all my senses. Can I touch you?”

“I trust you. Please come back safely.”

“Allies? You specify our relationship as allies? That’s it?!

NSFW

“That’s why you were waiting for me on the deck, so you could get dicked down tonight?”

“I’ll touch you only if you use that pretty mouth of yours to beg. Come on sweetheart, don’t be mad at me, I’ve spoiled you way to much.”

“While I’m at it, start thinking of other places you want to be fucked at. The night is long, beautiful.”

“Look at me. Yes, with that satisfaction in your eyes. Take my fingers in your mouth and don’t be loud. Surely you don’t want your crew to see you in such position, yes?”

“Fuck, where did you learn to suck like that?”

“You can’t see them but there are marks in your ass from all the slapping. Only you would be crazy enough to tattoo them.”

“Driving me crazy here, you’re riding me like there’s no tomorrow. Please, don’t stop.”

“You’re so rough… I love it…I love you.”

[kimstills]

some reassurance - aaron hotchner x gn!reader

in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.

content warnings: a little hotch aftermath of s2e15 (nothing goes into detail), no haley in this story but no real mentions about her, the team is kind of mean, aaron and reader literally flirting even tho reid just got kidnapped not too long ago. word count: 1.5k a/n: inspired by this post by @greg-montgomery ! my man is not a bully <3 also not proofread oops

he’s a classic narcissist.

he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team.

what’s my worst quality?

i have no sense of humor.

you don’t trust women as much as men.

you can be a drill sergeant sometimes.

you’re a bully.

you’re sure that if the words of the events from the past 12 hours have been ringing in your head since they first happened, they’re probably ringing in hotch’s head, too.

but you’re also sure that he’s trying to play it as if nothing happened. as if he didn’t get completely verbally obliterated by his team members.

you lost count of how many times you had turned to look at hotch from the moment reid had chosen him to be ‘killed’ after tobias hankel had asked him to pick someone from his team. from the moment you had all figured out where the devolving man was keeping reid.

from the moment you had saved your friend, to the moment the case had been wrapped up, to the moment your boss had just now ordered everyone to take the weekend off right after arriving back to the quantico headquarters, despite immediately locking himself in his office afterwards.

you had contemplated saying anything from when reid had first chosen hotch as hankel’s sacrifice, and you contemplate saying anything now as you stare up at his office, the curtains having been drawn and the door closed ever since coming back, even when everyone else was gathering their things and was about ready to leave.

you didn’t know what it was about hotch or your relationship with him, but you had always found yourself protective of him ever since breaking through the ‘cold’ and ‘stoic’ persona the team had made up for him and crafting a genuine friendship with him.

you had been the first to follow after him when he had left the room with all the computer screens where you and your team had watched reid ‘choose’ him, hot on his heels trying to reassure him that the young genius wasn’t in his right mind.

it had been impossible, though, watching in silent horror and palpable confusion as he asked the rest of his team to list his worst qualities while trying to realize that everything spencer said was on purpose.

what emily had said, you had let slide. she was new to the team, and although you reassured her that all would turn fine in her journey with you and the rest of the bau, you couldn’t deny the lack of trust the others had in her.

derek butted heads with hotch the most and was the most brazen when it came to standing up to him, never afraid to call bullshit even with knowing that hotch was hard on him because he knew of morgan’s potential.

what jj had said, though, you didn’t understand. there had never been a time where you could actively recall hotch being purposefully rude or mean to anyone without it being called for.

he could put people in his place and humble an officer or two when needed, but he had never been mean to you nor to anyone else just because. so, when the words ‘bully’ left jj’s mouth, you couldn’t help but furrow your brows and send a glare her way despite the traumatic events she was still reeling through.

spencer had said himself that he knew hotch would understand, so you could only assume that everyone else had assumed the older man wouldn’t take anything personal, especially after being the one to ask the question.

you had only given his shoulder a squeeze seconds after he ordered everyone to get some rest, offering a comforting smile.

but you knew that wasn’t enough.

so, before you even registered what you were doing, you brush past the startled and confused stares derek and emily give you as you stand abruptly from where you had been perched on your desk and march up the stairs to hotch’s office.

the determination in which you made your way up there contrasted from the gentle knock you raptured on his door, waiting patiently for the deep voice to allow you to enter.

at the sound of his permission, you stepped inside, smiling softly when aaron looks up to glance at you.

he’s standing on the left side of his desk, shuffling papers together and sliding them into a manilla folder. he seems tense, like he finally let himself feel what he was trying to avoid back at hankel’s house, but, solely from the warmth of your smile, his shoulders drop and his body languages is immediately relaxed by your presence.

“i thought i sent you home?” he asks, giving you a knowing look as he stacks the folders neatly on one of the baskets he kept in one of the corners of his desk.

you shake your head no, “not yet,” you close the door behind you gently, catching a peek of morgan and prentiss’ confused stares before turning to look at him.

aaron’s brows furrow at you closing his door, “are you alright?” he asks, stopping in his movements.

you shrug, “as alright as i can be, i guess,” you say, fiddling with your fingers. you feel yourself growing shy under his perplexed stare, but you push it down in order to ask, “are you alright?”

aaron blinks at you, the crease in between his forehead deepening even more, if possible. after a second, you can see the gears winding in his head before it all clicks together, the hardening stare he wore slowly dropping as he realizes what you mean.

“i’m fine.” he says shortly. you know from the many times you’ve accompanied other members of your team to check up on him that they would normally drop the questioning after that, but you weren’t like the rest of them. apparently.

“aaron,” you speak up, his gaze immediately flickering back up to you at your use of his first name, “i don’t think you’re a bully,”

your tone is genuine and comforting and he wants nothing but to completely delve into it. to bury himself in that same comfort and simply stay there as you whisper reassurances.

but the only thing he does in response is shake his head, continuing his maneuvering around his desk as a way to avoid what you were trying to do, “y/n, it’s okay.” he shakes his head, “i didn’t take any of it personally. gideon was right; reid wasn’t in his right mind during then,”

you shrug again, trying your best to get him to look at you without rounding his desk and standing right in front of him, “still. what jj said was pretty uncalled for,”

“well, i was the one who practically called for it,” aaron reminds you, looking up at you through his lashes as he continues to fix files.

you hum. you don’t know if what you’re trying to do is working or not, but you see the harsh lines around his brows soften and a faint pink bloom at his cheeks, one that makes your own face heat up.

“well,” you huff, “i also think that you’re pretty funny.” you shrug again, “really funny, actually.”

everything you’re telling him just now is true, but this is the most honest thing yet. derek, emily, and spencer all had their funny moments, yes, but aaron’s sense of humor was very similar to yours. and, to be fair, it didn’t come out as much due to him sticking to that false persona.

but when it did, you were the first one to understand the joke or the first to laugh and even the one laughing the hardest.

once again, aaron is frozen by your words, this time completely dropping what he was doing to stare you with bewilderment. he raises a brow, “you do?” his question is hesitant, like he doesn’t believe you.

and you know that he doesn’t. so you nod, “yeah,” you smile brightly at him, “you make me laugh a lot. even more than morgan.” this time you’re the one hesitating, taking a moment to wonder if what you’re doing is crossing a line between you and him. “or anyone else, really.” you tilt your head, “you’ve never noticed?”

aaron’s face is now a hot pink, and if it wasn’t for the sake of keeping up with his ‘stern’ facade, you’re sure he’d turn away and envelop his face in his hands.

he’s the one to shrug this time, “well, truth be told, i always get distracted by you.” a beat of silence passes before he clears his throat, averting his eyes to what you think is your shoes, “and your laugh.”

you beam despite the feeling of your face getting even hotter at his confession. you can’t help yourself from asking, “you like my laugh?”

“there’s a lot of things i like about you,” aaron admits, much more confident this time, a fond expression adorning his features.

you blush under his gaze, trying your hardest to conceal the wide smile that was threatening to appear on your face. you rock on your heels, hands folded behind your back shyly, “there’s a lot of things i like about you too, hotch.”

“aaron,” he says, not liking the way ‘hotch’ sounded after hearing you say his first name, “aaron, please,”

this time you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips.

no, aaron hotchner wasn’t a bully at all.

[ohthewh0rror]

WE ABOUT TO KISS RIGHT NOW?

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — Just some tidbits of fluff for whichever slytherin boy you pick. You’ve got three choices: Mattheo (the childish one), Tom (who has never felt the touch of a woman), or maybe Theo (resident lover boy).

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader / Mattheo x Reader / Theo x Reader

Word Count: 848

Tom R.

Truthfully, the sight was mildly unsettling. Tom was a very composed individual, never a hair out of place and always impeccably dressed. So seeing him now, as he sat in the furthest corner of the shop where he worked, his elbows resting on his knees as he rested his head in his hands was…concerning. His slender, pale fingers slid up to his dark curls and gripped his hair at the root.

Tom, who seemed untouchable and almost god-like, suddenly looked human. It was the first time you had ever seen Tom display a genuine emotion, his usual facade slipping away. You weren’t sure what to do, as your friendship was fairly new. You weren’t sure how he was going to respond to your attempt at comforting him, but you figured that as long as you left here in one piece, you’d count it as a win.

You placed a gentle hand on his knee, and took in a breath to steady your nerves before you decided to speak. “We don’t have to talk, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here…in case you do want to.” It was another few seconds of silence before Tom sat up and one of the hands that was once holding his head up came to rest on top of your’s. As his fingers curled around your hand, you saw the ghost of a smile on his face, and a look of mild appreciation in his eyes.

Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a loving kiss on your palm, before getting out of his seat without a word, leaving you awestruck in the back of the desolate store.

Mattheo R.

"Hey, there's something on your lips?" Mattheo gestured to your mouth, there was a smirk on his face, the same one he gets when he’s trying to mess with you. You were skeptical, not knowing if you should trust him, but you didn’t want to continue walking around with something on your lips either just in case he was being honest. “Really?” Your hand came up, fingers about to swipe whatever was there off, when Mattheo caught your wrist. “What are you—” your question was cut off as Mattheo’s lips connected with yours.

The kiss was short and sweet, almost a peck, leaving you secretly wanting more from him. Mattheo pulled away slightly, eyeing your lips, “I think it’s still there,” he mumbled. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, feeling your face grow hot. You playfully shoved him away from you, trying to put some space between you in hopes of gathering what little self control you had in you to resist the urge to kiss him again.

“I can't stand you,” was all you said as you attempted to get away from the flirt you called your boyfriend.

Theo N.

“Would it be weird if I kissed you? be honest,” was what Theo greeted you with as he came to stand next to you, a warm hand resting on your back. Though you tried to put on an annoyed front, you were glad he decided to come keep you company; even if it was to tease you. Everyone knew the crush you’ve had on him since 5th year, you were sure even Theo has figured it out by now. And, to be honest, it was almost embarrassing. You’d hoped after graduation your feelings would fade, as you’d see less of him, but the distance seems to have only made it worse.

“Honestly? yes,” it almost killed you to say that, but it was the truth. The two of you hadn’t seen each other in two months and you were also currently attending a charity gala. A kiss between two people who were not together, standing in the middle of an important event, would be all anyone talked about for the next few weeks. There was a pregnant pause, neither of you saying anything, Theo seemingly lost in thought as he stared at you.

“Hey, Y/N?” You heard Theo ask, trying to get your attention as you had looked away from him, trying to distract yourself from the pounding of your heart. You hummed in acknowledgement, and when Theo said nothing, you turned your head to look at him. Well, that was the plan anyway, but as you turned your head to face him Theo met you halfway.

You weren't sure what you thought your first kiss with Theo would be like, but even you could have never guessed it’d be so passionate. In the distance you could hear the flashing of a camera and rabid whispering, but you could care less.

You’ve been waiting for the moment for years, and you refuse to let anything ruin it.

[pprodsuga]

walk the line | jongseong

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

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

genre: lawyer au

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

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

Still, his days wane between fulfilling and empty. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake laughs. “You, Park Jongseong.” 

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

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

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

“Whatever you say, captain.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After all, that’s what Jay does best.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn straight.” 

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

“It’s about the Hybe Records case.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay nervously runs his hand through his hair. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s the music industry for you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Sunghoon says. “Which one?” 

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

“We trust them, right?” Jake asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay swears he sees Sunghoon blush. 

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

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

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

Jay said no. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Jay.” 

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

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

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

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

“Oh, wow.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles. “Right this way.” 

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

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

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

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

“You know Kim Y/N? The Kim Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t try anything.” 

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

“This office is pretty nice.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does that make me?” you joke.

“It makes you the best in the universe.” 

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

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

“Most days, I just need a friend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We won’t be long,” Jake assures. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Heeseung–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay abruptly opens his eyes. 

“That is not what I meant.”

Heeseung smirks. “Sure it wasn’t.”

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

“You can still make time for her now.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Understood.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Heeseung seems to know you too well. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pray tell.” 

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

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

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

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

“Do your parents speak English?”

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

“Your brother seems like a cool guy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d love that, Jake.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Would Jay apologize for the night he left you? 

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

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

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

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

“Why’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The aforementioned blushes. “That would be amazing.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything for a friend of Jay and Heeseung!” 

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

“He got back a few minutes ago.”

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

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

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

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

Riki’s face beams.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good to know.” 

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

You smile. 

“Let’s win this goddamn case.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet, here you are. 

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll regret it if you don’t.” 

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

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

“Am I really that bad?”

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

“Shit,” Jay curses. 

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

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

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

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

“Anytime.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

“Oh,” you say, startled. 

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

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

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

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

“You look stunning.”

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

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

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

He’s surprised when you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s no tension.” 

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

“Don’t bring interns into this.” 

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

“My mojo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And now?” 

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

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

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

“A butterfly?” 

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

Jay bites his lip in contemplation. Jake continues. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay quirks his eyebrow. “Speaking of what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” he mumbles. 

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

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

“What about it?” 

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

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

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

“He sent the rest here.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re sure about this?” Jay asks. 

“We’re positive,” Sunoo confirms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay’s eyes widen. “With me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always flattered me too much.” 

“Why stop now?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sounds like quite a peaceful life.” 

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

“Yeah, it really is.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like your style.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?” he asks timidly. 

“What’s up?” 

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

You smile at him. “I’ll make time.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, you could always take it again.”

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

“Testing used to be my greatest enemy.”

“What changed?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungwon smiles at you.

“I think I will.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s like you read my mind.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay’s eyes soften. 

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

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

“Jay–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

Nothing is going according to plan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you stay here with me?” 

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

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

“Anything for you.” 

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

One, two. Click.

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

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

“Is she okay?” 

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t. 

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

“Thank you,” Jay breathes. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Take care.” 

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

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

Dearest Brother (Korean cell): Open up!

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

“Namjoon,” you breathe. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jay is a tattletale.” 

“Did he lie?” 

You sigh. “No, he didn’t.” 

“What’s on your mind?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

“He hurt me, Joon.” 

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

You think about it. “No, he hasn’t.” 

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

“Yes,” you say without hesitating. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah?” 

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

“Where are you going with this?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about him?” 

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

“I don’t know what to say.” 

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

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

Namjoon laughs. “You wound me.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m bad at this.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That I am.” 

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

You struggle to get back to work.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holding you feels familiar. It feels like coming home after a long, tiring day at the office to the person he loves the most. Having you in his arms after all this time has Jay rethinking his future and where you fit in it. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s ready to risk all that he has if that means seeing you as happy as you are in this very moment. 

You whine when Jay’s lips detach from yours but he smirks into your skin when he hears a soft moan coming from your own upon placing his just below your ear. He thinks how his younger self would’ve killed to hear the sounds you’re making right now and how lucky he is that this opportunity is being granted towards him. You sound like you’re enjoying yourself and that’s all Jay could ever ask of you. 

Your hand creeps below his shirt until your nails are raking his abdomen and you moan when you feel the ridges on his body. He sighs against your neck and you’re left speechless at how his physique has changed since the last time you saw Jay shirtless. The ache in your belly leaves you wanting more and you arch your body until it feels as though you’re completely giving into him before pressing your palms against his body. 

You two kiss with fervor as the minutes go by. Suddenly, Jay feels your body beginning to rock yourself on his lap as your lips find his own. He feels you tug on his shirt until you push it up his neck, breaking contact with him so that he can pull his shirt off completely. 

Your lips feel like heaven against his own skin as you begin to explore every inch of him. He feels you peppering kisses along his jawline and closes his eyes to bask in the feeling of your body so close to his. Jay lets his hands roam around your waist and when you don’t move to push his hands off as his fingers dip beneath the shirt you’re wearing, he smiles to himself and lets his fingertips push the fabric upwards just slightly. The feeling of his hands on your body has you rocking forward until your chest is in front of Jay’s face. You gasp when you realize how hard he’s become underneath you.

“I’m sorry,” Jay begins to apologize. “You’re very attractive.” 

You look down and tilt your head, experimentally pressing your lower half on his crotch. Jay emits a low moan, making your mouth quirk in excitement. 

“You’re very attractive,” you tell him, slowly rocking your body backwards and forwards.

You move to push Jay’s hands closer to your body and he gets the hint. He uses the momentum to push and pull you into him at the pace you set, watching as your mouth opens in euphoria. Jay finds it incredibly attractive the way your eyebrows pinch in arousal every time the tip of his clothed cock bumps your covered core, and if what you’re wearing is anything to go by, he was correct in assuming you weren’t wearing shorts underneath his shirt. 

Your pace quickens with every pass of his cock beneath you. He gets harder and harder, and you get wetter and wetter. Your own slick is rubbing against you from the fabric of your panties and it becomes almost too much to bear. Jay’s hands have found their way to your back as your own body pushes against his. He feels your tits pressing against his chest and the desperation in your hips as you gain momentum while he begins to take control from beneath you. 

Jay bucks into you until you let out a particularly loud gasp. His strength surprises you, as does the force with which he thrusts into you. His clothed cock hits you at the most delicious angle while you’re fighting to stand upright against his lap, fighting to grip the couch and his body at the same time. Jay doesn’t let you breathe, however, until you’re pushing him away so that you can access his lips once again.

The kiss is wet and messy. It’s hot in the room and you’re pushing Jay’s hands until they cup your breasts. He pinches your nipples and watches in pleasure as you throw your head back. 

“My baby likes that, doesn't she?” He pinches them again when you nod and it sends a shock straight down your spine and where you need him the most. 

Jay lifts the shirt just enough to uncover your chest and brings your right bud into his mouth. He licks it with his tongue in an effort to tease you until you’re squirming in his lap. He does the same with the other nipple until you’re pushing yourself against his cock that he grunts and nips at the bud before sucking it with his mouth. 

The pleasure is almost too good to form words. Your mouth stays at a permanent ‘O’ with every swipe of Jay’s tongue and he pushes your shirt until you take it off for him. He places his hands on your breasts and squeezes them in his palms as if getting to know your body better, almost like he wants to commit you to his memory. 

But you’re impatient. After the long years of daydreaming about Jay, you want nothing more than to have him inside of you.

“Please let me have it,” you whisper against his lips, pushing your body down onto his. “I need it so bad, Jay.” 

“We can’t,” he chokes. He doesn’t want to push his luck. “I-I need to drive you home.” 

Not even he believes this pathetic excuse.  

“I don’t care. Drive me home tomorrow.” 

Jay doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He flexes his fingers to distract himself before giving in, placing his grip on your waist and pushing you down onto him. He hears you gasp at the sudden movement and chides himself for being so turned on by you when mere moments ago he was thinking logically. 

“Just the tip,” you mutter against his mouth to convince him. “Please.” 

“Just the tip,” Jay agrees, pushing his trousers just enough to free his cock. To the best of your ability, you take your panties off without moving from his lap and throw it behind him. He finally feels your pussy glide over him and throws his head back, feeling pure euphoria. 

Jay’s cock is thick and long, and you feel it throbbing between your legs. The friction is too delicious to ignore, as is the wet sounds consisting of your arousal covering him. He lifts his head up to watch you bite your lip and look at him with desperation in your eyes. It’s the kind of expression he’s wanted to see from you for so long. Jay can only hope you know that this is how he looks at you. 

It’s quiet in the room, save for wanton breaths and the sound of your own arousal mixing with his precum. It’s so erotic to see you as desperate for him as he is for you because he’s yearned for this moment for so long. Jay bites his lip with every pass as you hover above his tip and he tries his hardest not to buck his hips, instead allowing you to move at your own pace. 

When you catch the tip of his cock inside of your pussy, the two of you let out an audible gasp at the sudden intrusion. His thick head breaches your fluttering hole as he grabs your waist to prevent you from moving when his tip is fully sheathed inside of you. 

“Holy fuck,” you moan, balancing yourself on his hot tip. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Jay asks. “It does, doesn’t it?” You nod rapidly and Jay kisses the side of your mouth before moving to your neck. 

You keep yourself steady by gripping his shoulders that are hot to the touch. He flexes when your nails dig into him, causing you to moan at the sight. Jay feels the movement of your throat as he kisses your neck and grunts when he feels your pussy clench around him. 

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes until your legs give out and you’re holding onto Jay’s neck as a silent plea for him to take over. He gets the hint, wrapping his arms around your body until you’ve fallen limp against his chest. Jay uses his leverage to slowly pull himself out of you before pushing the head of his cock back in. 

The moan you emit against his ear makes him feel like the two of you are starring in your very own sextape. It causes Jay to jerk his hips unexpectedly and push another inch of himself into your pussy by accident. He’s about to apologize until he feels your pussy clenching around him at the sudden intrusion. 

“You’re so big,” you whisper to him. “S-So big. So good.”

“You feel fucking amazing,” Jay praises. “Such a wet pussy and I’ve barely done anything to you.” 

You whimper at his words while closing your eyes shut and move your head until your cheek rests comfortably on his shoulder. The angle allows you to press kisses to Jay’s jawline and you do so until you feel him begging to thrust into you once again. 

The tempo he sets is slow and delicious. He feels every drag as your mixed arousal coats the rest of his cock and Jay feels as though he’s found pure euphoria on earth, the kind that men search for but never seem to find. The shallow thrusts cause his mouth to hang open and his fingers itching to touch your clit, but he doesn’t want to move unless you tell him to. 

It isn’t until you’re pushing yourself down onto his length that he speaks again.

“Baby,” he warns. “I thought–”

“Changed my mind,” you tell him desperately. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Jay nods. “I want to. Fuck, I want to.” 

You kiss him hard before pushing down on him. “I just want you.” 

Jay’s body falls limp when he feels your body glide up and down his cock like you’ve trained your entire life for this very moment. He sees the sweat building between your brows and licks his lips at the way your tits bounce against your chest. It’s sensual the way you look on top of him. Jay brings one of your nipples in his mouth and makes a home there as your hips begin to work his own.  

His body feels like it was made for you to use. The desperation at which his own hips chase yours should make him feel embarrassed, but he feels like a lovesick fool. In this moment, everything he’s ever wanted to say to you lies in the power of his thrusts and the way his lips move with yours. It makes him feel like there’s nothing in this world that could take you away from him. 

He pushes himself up until you’re clinging onto his body for dear life. The sounds you make push him even harder against your body, drilling his hard cock within you until you’re moaning like somebody’s filming you. It’s all too much for Jay to handle, and he’s glad he feels you come undone before him.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” you moan out, clenching against his cock as it works your body until completion. 

Jay pulls out and finishes on your ass just after you’ve come down from your own high. You jolt when you feel his come on your skin but move to kiss him as the two of you come down from your respective highs and he feels your heartbeat against his chest, smiling into the kiss. 

“You’re amazing,” he tells you between kisses. He tries to speak but you silence him with more pecks. “Let me clean you up, yeah?” 

Your heart feels warm. You nod and let him pry your body off of his, carefully laying on your stomach so that the couch doesn’t see the mess Jay created. He comes back a moment later with a warm washcloth and his trousers zipped up before wiping you clean. The rag is tossed onto the floor as he pulls your body towards him, wrapping your legs around his torso, and pulling your lips to his once more. 

“Stay the night?” he asks you. 

“That was my plan, but I’m glad you brought it up before I did.” 

Jay pinches your thigh and hears you laugh. He could die like this. 

“Since it’s a weekend, I think you and I have a lot of catching up to do.” Jay kisses down your neck and between the valley of your breasts, gliding his lips along your stomach until they’ve reached just below your belly button. 

“Oh? And what is it you’re promising, Park Jongseong?” 

Jay smirks up at you from where he’s positioned. 

“I have an idea in mind,” he says coyly, moving his mouth to press a chast kiss on your slit. “It has a lot to do with my mouth and my fingers.” Your body arches when Jay’s tongue licks a bold stripe up your slit. 

“I like the sound of that. Would you let me return the favor?” 

“Only if you cum on my tongue twice.” 

You push his face into your core.

“Better get a head start.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

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[reidmarieprentiss]

Lost in Translation: Part Two

Summary: Penelope hosts a brunch, Derek tells Spencer not to force you to talk to him. You make a new friend with a client, they convince you to go to the brunch.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: comfort, angst

Warnings/Includes: alcohol consumption, regret of past decisions, Penelope playing match maker

Word count: 8k

a/n: Spencer and you finally talk!!!

main masterlist prologue part one part three part four

You’ve been avoiding every time Derek invites you to go out with the BAU team since the embarrassing incident at the bar. Each time you decline, you can hear the disappointment in his voice, but the anxiety bubbling up in your chest whenever you think about seeing Spencer again is enough to keep you from saying yes. The embarrassment of that night still haunts you, and every time Derek mentions the team, you feel your heart squeeze with panic. 

To keep your mind off everything, you throw yourself into your work, accepting new clients and piling on extra projects. You stay late at the office, ensuring your schedule is so packed that you don’t have time to think about anything but deadlines, designs, and color schemes. It’s easier to focus on creating beautiful spaces for other people than it is to deal with the mess inside your own head. 

Meanwhile, Spencer is struggling. Ever since that night at the bar, the memory of you running out haunts him. He keeps replaying the look on Derek’s face, the way you bolted the second he walked in, and it twists his gut with guilt. But it’s not just that moment—he’s also haunted by the memory of how he left you all those years ago, how he slipped out of your bed without a word, too scared to stay and too ashamed to face you. The weight of those two moments presses down on him, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Spencer's work starts to suffer. During cases, he’s distracted, zoning out during briefings and losing his train of thought mid-sentence. Hotch notices first, his brows knitting with concern as he watches Spencer fumble through his notes during a meeting. JJ, too, picks up on the change, her subtle glances in his direction filled with quiet worry. They don’t push him—yet—but Spencer knows they’re watching, waiting for him to say something. But he doesn’t. He just keeps burying it, trying to push it all down.

Spencer also finds himself trying to be around Derek more often, finding excuses to stop by his desk or catch him after work. He never outright asks about you, but it’s clear that’s why he’s hovering. Whenever Derek casually mentions having seen you, Spencer’s eyes light up, a flicker of hope in the midst of his guilt. But Derek’s updates are always brief, never giving away too much. He knows you’re still hurting, and he’s not about to let Spencer think everything is fine when it’s not.

Spencer hovered near Derek's desk, tapping his fingers nervously on the edge as Derek typed away at his computer. The bullpen was quiet for once, just the low hum of conversation in the background. Spencer cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything right away, trying to come up with something that didn’t sound too obvious.

“Hey, uh, Derek,” Spencer started, his voice a little too casual. “You have any plans this weekend?”

Derek didn’t even look up, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew exactly what this was about, but he played along. “Yeah, got a few things going on,” he replied, his fingers still tapping at the keys. “Why, you got something in mind, Pretty Boy?”

Spencer shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes darting around the room as if he wasn’t really sure what to say next. “No, I just... thought maybe we could grab a drink or something.” He paused for a beat. “Or, you know, if you’re hanging out with anyone else...?”

Derek chuckled softly, finally glancing up at Spencer with a knowing look. “Anyone else, huh?” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You mean, like Y/N?”

Spencer’s face flushed immediately, his hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I mean... I wasn’t... just curious,” he stammered, avoiding eye contact.

Derek sighed, leaning forward on his desk and crossing his arms. “Look, man, she won’t just magically want to see you. You know that, right?”

Spencer’s face fell, the small flicker of hope that had sparked just moments ago snuffed out. He swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I just... I guess I wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

After a long silence, Derek finally spoke up again. “Look, man,” he said, his voice a little gentler now. “You can’t keep hovering around me, hoping I’ll tell you she’s suddenly okay with everything. It’s gonna take time. And you’ve got to give her space.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “I know,” he whispered. 

Derek gave him a small nod, watching as Spencer turned to leave, his shoulders slumped under the weight of everything left unsaid. But just before Spencer walked away, Derek called after him.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek said, his tone a little softer now. “For what it’s worth... I think she’ll come around. But you’ve gotta be patient. Let her come to you when she’s ready.”

Spencer looked back at Derek, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes again, but this time tempered with the understanding that it might take more time than he’d like. “Thanks, Derek,” he said quietly, before turning and walking back to his desk, his mind still racing with thoughts of you.

At this point, the rest of the team is fully aware of why you keep declining their invitations and why Spencer’s been so off lately. Penelope, in particular, can’t stand seeing anyone so miserable. After hearing about your history with Spencer from Derek, she’s taken it upon herself to figure out how to fix this mess. Penelope’s always been a sucker for a happy ending, and she refuses to believe that this is how your story should end.

So, she starts plotting. She ropes Derek into her schemes, convincing him that if anyone can get you two to reconcile, it’s them. Derek, though hesitant at first, agrees. He knows you, and he knows Spencer, and as much as he wants to stay out of it, he also wants both of his friends to be happy. 

Penelope sat at her desk, typing furiously away, when Derek walked up, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, watching her with a raised brow.

"Alright, Penelope, spill it," Derek said, voice low with suspicion. "What are you up to?"

Penelope’s fingers paused on the keyboard as she slowly turned to face him, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “I have no idea what you mean,” she said sweetly, though her eyes betrayed her scheming.

Derek sighed, shaking his head. “Come on, don’t play dumb with me. I know you too well. You’ve been up to something ever since that mess at the bar.”

She sighed dramatically, leaning back in her chair. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m plotting just a little, but it's for the greater good.” She sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. “I mean, you want Y/N and Spencer to make up, don’t you?”

Derek hesitated, running a hand over his head. “Look, it’s not like I don’t want that, but... you’ve met Y/N. She’s not going to be happy if we force them together.”

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “Pish posh! I’m not forcing anything. I’m simply creating a situation where fate can do its thing.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Picture this: we invite Y/N to one of my brunches, or maybe to your next team gathering, and oh! Surprise! Spencer’s there. They bump into each other, sparks fly, and—boom! Reconciliation.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “You really think it’s that simple?”

Penelope's eyes widened in exaggerated innocence. “Of course not. But it’s better than both of them moping around like lovesick teenagers.”

Derek sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Mama, I want them to figure it out, but Y/N’s... she’s been through a lot. I don’t want to push her too hard. If she finds out we’ve been scheming, she’s going to be pissed. You have no idea how stubborn she can be.”

Penelope leaned forward, placing her hands flat on her desk. “Which is exactly why we need to be subtle about this, my sexy, sculpted cupid. We’re not going to push them. We’re just going to nudge them in the right direction. And if it doesn’t work? Then we back off. But I refuse to sit by and watch Spencer be miserable, and know she’s miserable too, when we could help.”

Derek looked down at her, his jaw tightening as he considered it. “And what if Y/N doesn’t want to see him? She hasn’t exactly been jumping at the chance to hang out with the team since that night.”

Penelope shrugged, giving him a hopeful smile. “Then we let it be. But Derek, what if this is the closure they both need? Or better yet, another chance? We owe it to them to try.”

Derek groaned, knowing she wasn’t going to let it go. “Alright, fine. But if this backfires, Garcia, you’re taking the blame.”

Penelope grinned triumphantly, clapping her hands together. “Trust me, Hot Stuff, it won’t backfire. This is going to work.”

Derek shook his head, laughing under his breath as he turned to leave. “You better be right.”

Penelope’s voice followed him as he walked out. “Oh, I’m always right when it comes to matters of the heart, Derek Morgan. Just wait and see!” 

Derek muttered under his breath, “We’ll see about that.” But deep down, he couldn’t help but hope she was right.

Their plan starts simple—just trying to get you both in the same room again, even if it’s by accident. As the wheels of their plan start turning, both you and Spencer remain blissfully unaware of their scheming. You’re too busy drowning in work, and Spencer’s too tangled up in his own guilt to notice the subtle nudges Penelope and Derek are starting to orchestrate. 

—

The lunchtime crowd hummed quietly around you as you sat across from Derek at your favorite corner table. The restaurant had always been your go-to, a cozy, familiar space where you could relax and enjoy the food without worrying about the outside world. Today, though, you were feeling anything but relaxed. Derek was giving you that look—the one that said he was about to bring up something you’d been trying to avoid.

“So,” Derek began, cutting into his sandwich, his voice casual, but his eyes watching you carefully. “Penelope’s throwing one of her infamous brunches this weekend. Thought you might want to come.”

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. “I don’t know, Derek. I’ve been really busy with work, and—”

Derek held up a hand, interrupting you gently. “I know, I know. You’ve been taking on a lot of new projects lately.” He paused, his tone softening. “But you’ve been avoiding hanging out with the team since... well, you know.”

Your heart tensed a little, but you quickly pushed the feeling away, forcing a smile as you sipped your drink. “I’m just not ready to jump back into all that. It’s been nice keeping my head down and staying focused.”

Derek leaned forward, his eyes full of understanding but also a hint of concern. “I get it, sugar. I’m not saying you should force yourself into anything. But maybe... maybe it’s time to let yourself have a little fun again. No pressure, just brunch with some really cool people. Penelope’s dying to see you again, and so is the rest of the team.”

You hesitated, your fingers tapping lightly against the rim of your glass. The thought of seeing everyone again made your stomach twist. But what if Spencer was there? What if you had to see him? You weren’t sure if you could handle that yet.

“Is Spencer going to be there?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

Derek paused, his fork hovering over his plate. He looked at you thoughtfully before answering, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to overwhelm you. “Honestly? Probably not.”

Your brows furrowed. “Probably?”

Derek shrugged, setting his fork down. “I haven’t heard anything about him coming, and knowing Spencer, he’s been pretty distracted lately. I doubt he’ll make it. But... even if he did, it wouldn’t be about him. It’d be about you. Hanging out with people who really want to get to know you better.”

You bit your lip, torn between wanting to stay in your bubble and knowing Derek was right. You’d been keeping yourself so busy with work that you hadn’t given yourself much time to just... exist outside of it. And as much as you hated to admit it, you really did like hanging out with Derek and Penelope and the rest of the team. 

But there was still that nagging worry—what if seeing them all again just brought back memories of Spencer? Of what happened at the bar, and everything that came before it?

Derek seemed to sense your hesitation, and he reached across the table, placing his hand on yours. “Hey, you’re not gonna be alone in this, alright? We’ve got your back. And if it gets weird or uncomfortable, we’ll bail. No questions asked.”

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity there, the way he genuinely wanted to help you move past this. And honestly, maybe he was right. You couldn’t keep avoiding the world forever. Eventually, you’d have to face things—even the parts that hurt.

After a long moment, you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Alright,” you said, though your voice still held a trace of uncertainty. “I’ll think about it.”

Derek grinned, clearly pleased with your response, even if it wasn’t a solid yes just yet. “That’s all I’m asking, sweetheart. Just think about it.”

You smiled, though your mind was still turning over the idea. It wasn’t a decision you were ready to make just yet, but the fact that you were even considering it felt like a step in the right direction.

—

Derek found Spencer sitting at his desk, flipping through a stack of papers, though it was clear his mind was miles away. His usual hyper-focused energy was absent, replaced by an air of distracted tension that had been hanging over him for weeks now. Derek knew it wasn’t just the cases that had Spencer like this. It was you.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” Derek said casually as he leaned against the side of Spencer’s desk, crossing his arms. Spencer looked up, startled out of his thoughts, blinking rapidly as if he hadn’t even noticed Derek approach.

“Oh, hey,” Spencer replied, a faint smile flickering on his lips. “What’s up?”

Derek didn’t waste any time. He leaned in a little closer, his voice lowering so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the rest of the team. “Listen, man, I wanted to give you a heads-up about something.”

Spencer sat up a little straighter, already sensing that this wasn’t just a casual conversation. “What is it?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck, weighing his words carefully. “Y/N might be coming to Penelope’s brunch this weekend,” he said, watching Spencer’s reaction closely.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he processed the news. “She is?” His voice was quiet, a mixture of hope and nerves in his tone.

“Yeah, but here’s the thing,” Derek continued, his tone more serious now. “You’ve gotta give her space, man. Let her come to you when she’s ready. She’s not gonna want you chasing after her or trying to force a conversation. If she shows up, it’s a big deal for her.”

Spencer gave Derek a sharp look. "I'm not a child, Morgan. I can handle this."

Derek nodded, lowering his hands. "Fair enough. I wouldn’t expect you to. Just... give her the space she needs, alright?"

Spencer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Understood. I know I messed up, and I’ll give her space. But I’m not going to act like she doesn't exist. I care about her too much for that."

Derek gave him a small, encouraging smile. "That’s all I’m asking, man. Just be ready when the time’s right." With a final pat on Spencer’s shoulder, Derek straightened up. “See you at brunch, man. Just... take it easy.”

Spencer watched as Derek walked away, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on his chest. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. But for your sake, he was willing to wait.

—

On your most recent job, you quickly hit it off with Austin, the person you’re helping redesign their living space. They’re warm, funny, and easy to talk to, and the two of you click almost immediately. 

After finishing up the day’s discussion on design plans, Austin smiles and offers, “How about a cup of coffee before you head out? I make a mean brew.”

Grateful for the break and their company, you nod. “I’d love that.”

Austin heads to the kitchen, and you follow, feeling like you’ve made a new friend as much as a professional connection.

As you sit in the newly remodeled kitchen with Austin, the atmosphere feels warm and cozy. The soft glow of sunlight through the windows highlights the potted plants neatly arranged on the shelves, while the scent of fresh coffee fills the air. Austin hands you a mug, their smile easy and comforting as you settle into a chair.

You and Austin chat aimlessly for a while, exchanging stories and making easy, lighthearted conversation. The topics flow naturally—favorite movies, travel dreams, and funny stories from work. Eventually, the conversation shifts when Austin starts gushing about their partner, eyes lighting up as they tell you about the recent proposal and how they’re working to finish the house before their partner officially moves to Virginia.

“So, they proposed right there in the park,” Austin says with a dreamy grin. “I swear, I didn’t even see it coming. I was still thinking about what we were going to have for lunch, and then bam, ring in my face!”

You smile, warmed by their excitement. “That’s amazing. It sounds perfect.”

“It was,” Austin beams, looking star-eyed thinking about their fiance. Then, they turn to you with a curious glint in their eye. “Okay, so spill. Anyone tickling your fancy lately? I don’t see a ring.” They gesture to your bare hand with a teasing grin.

You laugh lightly, rubbing your ring finger absentmindedly as you sigh. “Yeah, maybe, well, no. There’s this... guy. But it’s complicated.”

Austin’s grin widens as they lean in, clearly intrigued. “Complicated, huh? Oh, now you have to tell me. What’s the tea?”

You take a breath, then dive into the story. You don't name names—you never know who’s going to know Spencer now—but you tell Austin about the guy from your past who broke your heart, the one who ghosted after everything. You explain how, years later, he's suddenly back in your life, and how seeing him has stirred up all those old feelings again, leaving you confused and unsure of what to do.

Austin listens intently, nodding as you talk. "That sounds rough," they say softly when you finish. "It’s totally valid to feel hurt, and it’s understandable if you don’t want to rush back into anything."

"Yeah, thank you—but... it’s been years. Shouldn’t I be over it by now?" you ask, feeling the familiar frustration rise in your chest. "I’ve been ignoring him, avoiding anything or anyone that might bring him back into my life, but now I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing."

Austin leans back, resting their mug on the table. "It’s not about how long it’s been; it’s about how it affected you. It’s okay to still feel hurt. But maybe... hearing him out could give you some closure. It doesn’t mean you have to forgive him or let him back into your life, but it might help you move forward."

You bite your lip, considering their words. "I don’t know if I can face him. What if he just makes things worse?"

Austin smiles, their expression soft but encouraging. "Only you know what you need. But remember, this isn’t about him. It’s about you. What do you need to feel at peace with all this? If hearing him out helps, then maybe it’s worth considering. If not, that’s okay too. Just make sure you’re doing what’s best for you, not what’s easiest."

Their words settle over you like a comforting blanket, making you feel understood. Austin seems to have a way of turning serious conversations into lighthearted moments, and you’re grateful for it.

"Plus," Austin adds with a grin, "if it goes badly, you can always stage a dramatic exit at the brunch. I’m talking about flipping tables and storming out—full soap opera style."

You laugh, the weight of the situation lifting just a bit. "You know, that might actually make it worth going."

"Exactly!" Austin beams. "But seriously, I think you should go. If nothing else, you'll get some great brunch food, and maybe—just maybe—you'll get the closure you're looking for. Worst case, you can leave and we’ll plan the perfect revenge."

Feeling more confident with their support, you finally nod. "Alright, I’ll go to the brunch."

Austin claps their hands together excitedly. "Good! And I’ll be here, ready to hear all the details afterward."

With that, the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon chatting and laughing, the heavy weight of indecision lightening with each joke and bit of encouragement. Austin’s easygoing nature and advice give you the nudge you need to face the upcoming brunch—and Spencer.

—

That night, as Spencer lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind began to wander, slipping into the memories of a time he hadn’t let himself revisit in years—college, the late nights in the library, the quiet moments spent with you. 

He could still remember the first time he saw you on campus, walking across the quad with your head down, focused on a book you were balancing in your arms. You hadn’t noticed him then, but he had noticed you—how could he not? The way you carried yourself, the quiet confidence in your demeanor. At first, he admired you from a distance, his heart catching whenever you passed by in a hallway or sat near him in the library. You had no idea, and he was too shy to ever approach you.

Then came the nights in the library, when fate—or maybe just a shared dedication to studying—brought you together. The quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above, the rustle of pages being turned, and the way your pens would scratch in unison over notebook paper as you both worked. He remembered how, over time, you grew comfortable with each other’s presence, exchanging little smiles, shared inside jokes, and eventually conversations that lasted longer than either of you planned.

There was one night, in particular, that stuck in his memory—a night when you two had stayed so late that the library lights started to dim, signaling closing time. The campus was quiet as you both walked out together, the cool air brushing against your faces. You had laughed about something, your eyes lighting up in the moonlight, and Spencer remembered how his heart had fluttered in that moment, wondering how someone could make him feel so at ease. He never thought he’d get to know you, let alone be someone you’d spend your nights with, even if just for studying.

And then came the night that changed everything. The night you had invited him over after finals, and things became more than just studying. He hadn’t expected it, didn’t even dare to imagine it, but when it happened, it felt... perfect. 

You had fallen asleep on his chest that night, your soft breaths a rhythm against his skin. He remembered lying there, tracing small patterns on your back, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his. It should have been the best night of his life—and in many ways, it was—but his mind, his insecurities, had taken over. He remembered thinking that you were too good for him, that someone like you wouldn’t want to stick around for someone like him. And that fear, that crushing fear of losing you, had driven him to leave.

Spencer swallowed hard as the guilt washed over him again. He had been so lovesick, so desperate to protect himself from the inevitable heartbreak he assumed would come. But in doing so, he had created a heartbreak that had lasted for years—for both of you.

Now, on the eve of seeing you again, the weight of it all pressed down on his chest like a heavy stone. The regret was unbearable, but so was the longing—the memory of your laughter, your smile, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. Spencer felt a deep ache in his chest, his heart pounding with the knowledge that he might never get the chance to tell you how much you had meant to him, how much you still did.

He had been infatuated with you all those years ago, and now, he realized, that feeling had never truly gone away.

Unable to sleep, Spencer tossed and turned, his mind refusing to quiet. Every memory, every regret, kept replaying on a loop. With a sigh of frustration, he finally threw the covers off and dragged himself out of bed, padding down the hall toward his office. 

He knew it was pointless, but something inside him—maybe it was curiosity, maybe guilt—compelled him to open his laptop. His fingers hovered over the keys for a moment before they moved almost automatically, typing your name into the search bar.

Within seconds, your business page appeared. Spencer hesitated before clicking, his heart racing, his palms suddenly clammy. It felt intrusive, like peeking into a part of your life he no longer had the right to know about, but he couldn’t stop himself.

As the page loaded, his eyes immediately went to the gallery of your work—beautiful, thoughtfully designed interiors that gave him a glance into you, your mind. He scrolled through the images slowly, taking in the details. The colors, the arrangements, the way you made spaces feel both warm and elegant. He had always known you were talented, but seeing the breadth of your work now, years later in a professional sense and not just sketches for class, filled him with a sense of pride. 

And then he saw it—your headshot, nestled at the top of the page alongside your name and title. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the picture. There you were, smiling, your eyes bright, your expression so familiar it made his heart ache.

Spencer leaned closer to the screen, his gaze fixating on the details of your face. He studied every line, every angle, as if trying to memorize you all over again. It had been so long since he’d seen you up close, but here, on this screen, you felt so near and yet so far. 

His fingers grazed the edge of the trackpad, hesitant, before he clicked on the image, enlarging it until it filled the screen. He stared, lost in the sight of you—how much you had grown, how much you had changed, but still so much the same. The emotions welled up inside him, a mixture of longing and regret, so intense he could hardly breathe.

He had left you, walked away when he was too afraid to face what he felt, and now, all these years later, here you were, thriving in a world he no longer shared with you. Spencer wondered if you had moved on, if you had someone else in your life now, someone who appreciated all the beauty and warmth you brought into the world.

But even more than that, he wondered if you would ever forgive him.

Spencer stared at your picture until the screen blurred, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness—he knew that much. But as he sat there, in the silence of his office, staring at the face he had missed for so long, he couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, you would give him the chance to try.

—

You showed up to Penelope’s place early, just as promised, with Derek by your side. He immediately went to help her hang up string lights while you and Penelope stayed together, fussing over the final touches. The atmosphere was lively and fun, and you were glad you came today.

When you entered her kitchen, Penelope lit up. "Oh my God! Look at you! I am in love with your outfit!" she exclaimed, her hands clapping together in excitement. You grinned, feeling the compliment ease some of your nerves.

“You’re one to talk,” you gestured towards her own colorful ensemble, the vibrant red and playful green perfectly matching her quirky style. “You look like you stepped out of a fashion magazine—one that I desperately need a subscription to."

Penelope twirled dramatically, her beret perched at the perfect angle, making the charm bracelet on her wrist dangle and jingle. "Stop it, we’re just the most fashionable duo, aren’t we?" She winked at you before handing you a mimosa. "Okay, now drink up. We've got some brunch magic to make happen."

As you sipped the bubbly drink, you couldn’t help but feel the knot of anxiety loosen in your chest. You and Penelope moved around the kitchen, arranging pastries and fruit trays, talking about everything except the one thing you knew was still looming in the background—Spencer. But for now, with the lights twinkling outside, the mimosas in hand, and Penelope by your side, you allowed yourself to feel a small sense of peace.

As the morning drifted into late brunch hour, the doorbell chimed, signaling the arrival of the first guests. You exchanged a quick, encouraging glance with Penelope before taking another sip of your mimosa, the fizz tickling your nose as you set the glass down.

“I’ll get it!” Penelope sang, already halfway to the door. You watched from the kitchen as she swung it open with her signature flair. “Elle! JJ! Look at you gorgeous queens!”

Elle was the first to step inside, her calm confidence radiating as she gave Penelope a warm hug. “You’re too much,” Elle smirked, though you could see the affection in her eyes as she gave Penelope a squeeze. 

JJ, all smiles, followed closely behind, her sunny personality lighting up the room the second she entered. “Garcia!” she exclaimed, leaning in for her own hug. “This place looks amazing, as usual.” She cast a quick glance around the room, taking in the string lights, the vibrant color scheme, and of course, the immaculate spread of food that had been lovingly arranged.

Penelope didn’t miss a beat. “Girls, you remember Y/N!” she called over, practically skipping as she gestured towards you. “She’s my stylish new partner-in-crime today.”

Elle and JJ turned toward you with warm, inviting smiles. JJ was the first to step forward, her kindness evident in her expression. “Y/N! Of course we remember. I’m glad you’re here!” She opened her arms for a quick, friendly hug, which you returned, grateful for her easygoing energy.

Elle followed suit, her smile softer but no less welcoming. “Good to see you again,” she said, giving you a nod of approval as she took in your outfit. “You’re definitely keeping up with Penelope in the style department.”

You laughed lightly, feeling the tension start to ease as you hugged Elle too. “I had to step up my game, knowing she’d outshine all of us,” you joked, throwing a playful glance at Penelope, who was already bouncing back towards the food to check on the platters.

Derek, meanwhile, appeared from the other side of the room, finishing up with the string lights. He clapped his hands together, grinning as he walked over. “Ladies! Looks like we’re in for quite the brunch.”

JJ raised her glass in response, smiling. “Cheers to that. It’s been way too long since we’ve had a proper get-together.”

Elle nodded in agreement. “Let’s hope the food tastes as good as it smells. You and Penelope outdid yourselves this time.”

Penelope shot her a cheeky grin. “Oh, honey, just wait until you taste it. Y/N’s been helping too—she’s a natural!”

You felt a small flush creep into your cheeks at the compliment, but the easy laughter and casual conversation swirling around you made it hard to feel too self-conscious. It was starting to feel like maybe this day wouldn’t be as nerve-wracking as you’d feared.

Next to arrive, in a much more subdued manner, were Hotch and Haley. Hotch entered with his usual calm presence, while Haley smiled warmly, her arm linked with his. She radiated a gentle energy that put you at ease immediately. As they approached, Hotch offered a small nod of greeting, his serious demeanor softened just slightly by the casual setting.

“Penelope, this place looks amazing,” Haley said, her voice filled with admiration as she took in the setup. “It’s so cozy and beautiful.”

Penelope beamed, twirling slightly as she accepted the compliment. “Why, thank you! Y/N helped with all the setup. We’re a dynamic duo today,” she said, sending you a proud wink.

Haley turned her attention to you, her smile genuine as she extended her hand. “Y/N, it’s great to meet you. I’m Aaron’s wife, Haley. Penelope mentioned you have an eye for design, and I can definitely see it.”

You shook her hand, grateful for her easy manner. “Thank you, Haley. I’m glad you like it. It’s nice to meet you too.”

Hotch gave you a polite smile as well. “Good to see you, Y/N,” he said simply, his voice carrying its usual quiet authority but without the edge it often had in more formal settings.

“It’s good to see you too, Hotch,” you replied, matching his composed tone.

The group began to chat casually, the energy shifting to a more relaxed rhythm with Haley’s calm presence balancing Penelope’s excitable nature. You found yourself blending in more easily than you expected, the unease you felt earlier starting to fade away as the conversation flowed naturally.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that, so far, everything was going smoothly. The brunch was shaping up to be a success, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment without worrying about what—or who—might come next.

But then, just as you were starting to relax, there was a knock at the door. The sound sent a jolt of anxiety through you, your breath catching in your throat as the lighthearted atmosphere suddenly shifted. You choked on a breath, your fingers tightening around your glass. 

Derek, noticing the slight change in your expression, patted your shoulder reassuringly before heading to the door. He swung it open with his usual confident ease, his grin widening as he greeted the new arrivals.

“Gideon! Reid!” Derek’s voice was full of his usual warmth, but when your eyes caught sight of Spencer standing just behind Gideon, your pulse spiked.

Gideon stepped inside first, laughing as he shook Derek’s hand. “You know how much Spencer hates driving. He practically begged me to pick him up,” he joked, casting a sideways glance at Spencer, who was lingering just outside the doorway.

Spencer offered a small, awkward smile, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket as he gave Derek a polite nod. "Yeah, driving... not my favorite thing."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you saw Spencer—looking the same, yet different. His hair was longer, his expression a little more weathered. He seemed hesitant, as if unsure of his place in the room, but when his eyes quickly scanned the space and landed on you, they widened ever so slightly.

Derek caught the momentary tension between you and Spencer, his jaw tightening subtly. He turned to the rest of the group, his tone trying to smooth over the sudden shift in energy. “Alright, everybody, make room for these two. Brunch is waiting to be devoured.”

Penelope quickly stepped forward to greet Gideon and Spencer with an exuberant smile, acting oblivious to the quiet storm brewing between you and the man now standing only a few feet away.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe, and turned away, praying no one could see the turmoil swirling in your chest.

Gideon, ever the perceptive one, glanced around the room, his eyes briefly scanning each face before they settled on you. He tilted his head slightly, the hint of a curious smile playing on his lips. Without missing a beat, he broke away from the small group forming near the entrance and made his way over to you.

“Hello,” Gideon greeted you warmly, extending a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jason Gideon.”

You blinked, momentarily startled by the direct introduction, but quickly reached out to shake his hand. "Y/N," you replied with a polite smile, though your voice wavered slightly, the nerves still simmering beneath the surface. "It’s nice to meet you."

Gideon’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he studied you for a moment, seeming to pick up on the tension you were trying so hard to conceal. “Derek speaks highly of you,” he added kindly, his tone gentle, as if sensing that you needed a little bit of reassurance.

Your stomach twisted, but you nodded in response. “He’s a good friend,” you said, glancing in Derek’s direction for a split second before focusing back on Gideon. 

The conversation had inadvertently drawn Spencer's attention. From the corner of your eye, you could see him turn slightly, his gaze shifting from Gideon to you. His posture stiffened, and though he remained rooted to his spot near the door, his eyes were now locked on you, a flicker of recognition passing through them.

There it was—the moment you had been dreading. You didn’t have to look directly at him to feel the weight of his gaze on you. Spencer, standing just a few feet away, realizing that you were here.

Gideon seemed to notice too. He glanced over his shoulder toward Spencer before turning back to you, his expression a little softer now, as if understanding something unspoken.

“Well,” Gideon said after a brief pause, “it was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” He gave you a final smile before turning to rejoin the others, leaving you standing there with your pulse racing and the unmistakable feeling of Spencer’s eyes still on you.

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself. This was exactly what you had been trying to avoid, but now there was no escaping it. You made brief eye contact, nodding in acknowledgement as Spencer gave you one of his infamous tight lipped smiles. 

Spencer stood frozen in place, his breath catching in his throat the moment Gideon’s conversation with you drew his attention. The sight of you—standing there, laughing politely at something Gideon said—was like a punch to the gut. He had been preparing himself for this, trying to steel his nerves, but nothing could’ve braced him for the actual moment of seeing you again.

You looked incredible, more radiant than he remembered, and the sight of you stirred up everything he had been trying to push down. The memories flooded back—the long nights in the library, the gentle teasing, the way your hand had felt in his, and the soft sound of your laugh. You should say something, he told himself. But his feet remained firmly planted on the floor, rooted in the swirl of emotions tightening his chest. 

Spencer felt a wave of heat rush over him. You looked so good—better than he’d ever allowed himself to imagine in the countless nights he’d lain awake thinking of you. That plaid dress you wore, the way it cinched at your waist, how your hair framed your face perfectly—every detail made him dizzy. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he tried to focus, but all he could do was stare. 

God, what am I supposed to say? You hadn’t looked at him again since the brief glance. The thought gnawed at him. Does she hate me? Is she angry? Does she even care that I’m here?

His mind spiraled deeper, the insecurity choking him like a vice. Every possible scenario played out in his head: You turning around, glaring at him with the bitterness you were more than entitled to feel; you ignoring him completely, dismissing him as though he didn’t matter. Both options made him feel sick. 

I don’t deserve to talk to her, he thought miserably. 

But he wanted to. He wanted so badly to close the space between you, to say something, anything that might take back the years of silence and cowardice. His hands fidgeted nervously at his sides, his mind screaming at him to move, to walk over, to apologize, to finally make things right. But Spencer stayed where he was, staring at you like a man drowning, desperately reaching for the surface, for something to anchor him—but unable to find it.

You shifted slightly, turning in his direction for just a second. Your eyes flickered toward him once more. The briefest glance, and then you quickly looked away.

It was enough to make his heart drop.

She can’t even look at me.

Spencer clenched his jaw, the painful mix of regret and longing clawing at his insides. He could hear Derek’s words echoing in his head—give her space, let her come to you on her terms. But the problem was, he wasn’t sure he could wait anymore. How could he, when just seeing you from across the room was this overwhelming?

He stood there, drowning in his own thoughts, desperate to say something, to do something that would fix it all. But he couldn’t. Not yet. And it was tearing him apart.

As the brunch carried on, Spencer couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, even though he was seated far enough that any chance of a conversation seemed impossible. You were right there, at the opposite end of the table, laughing, talking, and enjoying yourself with everyone else. Each time you laughed, it felt like a tug on his heart, reminding him of what you two had shared all those years ago.

The way you joked with Derek so easily, the way your banter flowed naturally—Spencer couldn’t help but feel that pang of jealousy creep in. It was irrational, but he couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of his mind whispering that maybe, just maybe, you had moved on with Derek. He tried to shake the thought, knowing how close you and Derek were as friends, but the insecurity was there nonetheless, gnawing at him.

Maybe that’s why Derek doesn’t want me to push things, Spencer thought bitterly, feeling the weight of his suspicions grow. Maybe he wants her for himself.

Spencer’s hands tightened around his glass, the icy chill of his now cold tea doing nothing to cool the heat rising in his chest. He knew he was being ridiculous, but the thought wouldn’t leave him. It stuck in his mind, festering as he watched Derek’s casual affection toward you. It didn’t help that you smiled at Derek the way you used to smile at him. 

When you excused yourself to make more tea, Spencer’s mind was spinning too much to stay seated. He couldn’t let the jealousy take control, but it was too late; it had already wrapped around his thoughts, suffocating any sense of logic. Before he realized it, his legs had carried him from the table, following you into the kitchen.

The moment you walked into the cozy kitchen that you'd helped Penelope prepare, the warm smell of the tea leaves filled the air. The clink of teacups and the sound of water boiling were the only things breaking the quiet of the room. You didn’t notice Spencer following you at first, too caught up in refilling the teapot and enjoying the brief solitude from the table’s conversations.

Spencer hesitated at the entrance to the kitchen, watching you from behind as you moved gracefully between the counter and the kettle. His heart was pounding, the thoughts racing in his mind, torn between his guilt over the past and the irrational jealousy clouding his judgment.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but thick with everything he was holding back. “Y/N.”

You turned at the sound of his voice, surprised to see him standing there, clearly not expecting this moment. The tension between you two was palpable, hanging in the air like a weight neither of you was ready to address.

"Spencer," you acknowledged softly, your hands still on the teapot as you stared at him. The awkwardness was undeniable, but there was something else too—years of unspoken words, regrets, and emotions neither of you had faced.

Spencer swallowed hard, his throat tight as he stepped further into the kitchen. "I... I just wanted to—um, I need more tea," he said, fumbling for words, clearly not sure how to approach the conversation.

“Oh, okay,” you replied, surprised that was all he said but pleasantly relieved at the simplicity of it. "I can make you a cup if you want."

Your offer seemed to melt some of the tension in Spencer’s demeanor. His expression softened as he realized you were still the same kind person he’d fallen for all those years ago. “Thank you, that’s really kind of you.”

You nodded, reaching for the teapot. "Milk and sugar? Honey?"

He let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, all of it, please. I like it sweet."

“I know,” you mumbled, the words slipping out naturally. You’d seen Spencer drink his overly sugary coffee so many times back in college, his sweet tooth no secret to you.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, fidgeting with his hair as he tried to keep the conversation light. "Do you still drink coffee? Or is it all tea now?"

You shrugged, pouring the tea into his cup. “I do both. No need for all that caffeine today.” You laughed softly. “For work, though? That definitely requires coffee.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a little more at ease. "Yeah, I get that. My body’s probably made up of pure coffee by now," he joked, happy he’d chosen to stick with casual conversation rather than diving into the deep, painful history between you two again. 

Maybe Derek was right—maybe you would come to him when you were ready. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his heart sank. Derek. He remembered the way you laughed with him, how easily you’d fallen into a rhythm with him at the table. 

The jealousy he’d managed to suppress earlier crept back in, though he did his best to push it down again. You were being kind, and he didn’t want to ruin this moment. But still, the thought lingered—was Derek the one holding you back from wanting to talk to him?

But you’d already turned around, catching the pensive look on Spencer’s face. "Everything alright?" you asked, a little concerned by the way his expression had shifted.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, looking up at you with a soft, almost hesitant smile. "So, uh, you and Derek, huh?"

You blinked, tilting your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Spencer’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cup as he mumbled, “How long have you guys been... seeing each other?”

You burst out laughing, surprising him. "Me and Derek? No, no, no," you said, waving your hands dismissively as you continued to chuckle. "He’s my best friend. That’s all."

“Oh," he nodded, clearly unsure. "I just thought—”

But you cut him off before he could finish, handing him his tea with a small smile. “Tea’s ready. Here.” Your voice was soft but awkward as you backed out of the kitchen. “See you out there.”

With that, you made your way back to the brunch party, leaving Spencer standing in the kitchen, processing what had just happened. 

That was the end of your conversation for the day, but it was enough for him. Spencer’s heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. 

He could work with this.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[often-daydreaming]

Road Trip

It was... It was always just a fight but the last one between Jason and Bruce had been one of their worst and things only escalated after he accused Jason of having something to do with the Joker's disappearance.

It was another thing to hold against him. Another excuse to keep the Red Hood at arms length but Barbara knows Jason wasn't anywhere near Gotham when the clown went missing. Bruce checked. Tim double checked, but she knows because it wasn't like Jason was even trying to hide from any of them.

He was just traveling.

At first it was with the rest of the Outlaws for a bit and on and off after for a while afterwards with the rest of his team joining up at different points along his trip across the country.

He'd spent weeks spent on the road from New York to Pennsylvania before anyone even noticed the Joker was gone, then took a detour down to Atlanta and through Kentucky. The weekend after that was spent traveling between Michigan and Toronto and a surprising sighting in Kansas which was one of the only stops she still didn't understand since he'd have to be traveling all night just to get to that small town he'd been spotted in and Jason didn't seem to be in any hurry.

A part of her had been tempted to call Kara and see if she'd look into the matter for her but cases kept piling up and they got busy. If it wasn't the usual villain of the day causing trouble then it was the power vacuum left behind by the still missing Joker or one the guys getting into trouble. So she left it alone.

Jason didn't seem like he was in any trouble. He'd come back sooner or later. He always came back. Except he didn't. Weeks turned into months, then a full year passed them by as sightings of the Red Hood grew less and less frequent and it was only a preemptive notification she sat up so long ago that reminded her of Jason's absence as she stares down at the computer monitor playing a few seconds of footage displaying a small crowd of people, the Outlaws, some of Young Justice and the Titans along with a few other people who were cheering him on as he slipped a ring on some red haired woman's finger. The context was clear enough but she didn't find out more about the what and why until later that night when Roy sent out an update to the rest of the Titans claiming dibs on being the best man.

The above is just something that I cobbled together after reading a few Jason leaves Gotham fics and the thought of Jazz killing the Joker for (insert reasons) so my mind kind of jumped to Jason living out his best Cinderella moment, chasing after, flirting (along with getting threatened by a pair of overprotective parents) and road tripping with his team while trying to find the woman who lost her bloody baseball bat. After they meet he's just doubling down on everything with the intent of marrying her, Jazz getting her own little road trip, telling Jason where they're going next or even making a game out of if he can find her at the next stop on the Fenton family supernatural hunting/cataloging road trip cause I know they love talking about ghost but the image of Jack and Maddie fighting Bigfoot is amazing.

And the Fentons are happy for the two of them. At least he wasn't another Johnny. They had Tucker check just to be sure while everyone else just kind of assumes the rest of the bat family already knew when it was actually a mix of (we're super busy right now) and (maybe things will be a little peaceful if we give Jason some space) leaving Bruce trying to play catch up and depending on if he's reformed having to outdo Vlad who is already paying for everything.

[banj0possum]

More yandere bully pwetty please 🥺

I gotchu babagorl 🔥

Yandere!Bully x GN Reader pt.2

CW: harrassment, dub-con kissing, creep behavior (not from him...ish)

🖤 It's been a few months since Adrian started bullying you, and by bullying you mean weirdly following you around like a lost puppy and getting defensive if you say anything about it.

🖤 You've made a few friends, much to his dismay, who invited you to a party at one of their houses. They didn't say anything else about it other than it would be pretty wild.

🖤 Adrian was eavesdropping on the conversation you had with your friends and decided to go too, it didn't matter whether he was invited of not, he had to keep an eye on you in case you snitch about the stuff he did to you. and also because he's scared you'll meet someone you like, you're his! he can't let someone as cute as you leave him!

🖤 The party was indeed wild; you didn't expect there to be so many people. Loud music was blaring out of large speakers, people were roughhousing and drinking themselves silly, you think a window of two was broken...

🖤 You stayed anyway, trying your best to enjoy the party as your friends go off and greet other friends of theirs.

🖤 Adrian's car pulls up at the house, he already saw people making out on the porch outside and his heart beat fast thinking about if one of those people were you right now. he can't let that happen!

🖤 He pushed through the crowd inside and finally caught sigh of you in the corner of the living room with a red cup in your hand. His face lit up, but his happiness leaves him just as quickly as it came when he sees a guy approach you, clearly drunk out of his mind.

🖤 He sees red when the creep starts chatting you up, even though you were clearly uncomfortable with it.

🖤 "Hey! Who do you think you are hitting on them? Get out of here before I bash your skull in!"

🖤 He grabs the guy by the collar before shoving his away, the poor dude running off in a hurry.

🖤 You blink twice at Adrian as he turns to check on you with the softest look you've ever seen on him.

🖤 "N-nerd! Are you alright? Did he do anything?"

🖤 You shook your head and he sighs in relief. His expression soon changes to a frustrated one.

🖤 He grabs your hand and leads you outside, you start protesting, trying to pull your hand away from his but he's too damn strong.

🖤 Finally you ask where he's taking you and he leads you to the back of the house. He pins you to the wall and stares at you with wide eyes.

🖤 You felt the loud music from inside send vibrations across the house as his heavy breaths made your cheeks flush pink.

🖤 "You don't let anyone do that to you understand me, Freak? You're supposed to me mine do you hear me?"

🖤 His fists ball up, not in anger but frustration that he saw someone talk to what was his.

🖤 You stumble in your words, confused as to what he meant by 'mine'.

🖤 Suddenly you felt his lips crash into yours, one of his arms pulling your waist closer while his other hand held your head in place.

🖤 You place your hands on his arms as you start to kiss back softly, melting into the kiss. he pulls away, now bringing his mouth to your neck.

🖤 You could only whimper and moan softly as he left kisses and love bites on your neck, going unnoticed by anyone in the party.

🖤 "You're mine, no one else's, God you don't know what you do to me..."

🖤 He continued whispering praises and confessions to you, how the way you laughed with your friends made him want to get rid of them so the only thing you'd talk with was him, how he'd think about you every night, most times about you under him as you two shared passionate kisses, how he wished for so long to hold you like this.

🖤 Tears fall from your eyes as he takes his hand and wipes them away, kissing your stained cheeks.

🖤 Eventually he pulls away from you, grabbing your upper arm and leading you to his car.

🖤 "Come on loser, I'm driving you home...and s-stop crying...here, have a tissue...uhm...I..I love you...Nerd..."

[kaszuma]

Aera Perennius | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 7 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: soshiro was never one to raise his voice at anyone. But the one time he did, it was because he almost lost you for good.

warnings: Slight Kn8 Manga Spoilers, Description of Pain / Injuries / Hospitalizations, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Arguments, Cursing, Slight mention of self-harm

wc: 9,793

–

note: I finiahed it earlier than anticipated so here you go-- I had such a difficult time writing this because I've been so busy. There were so many changes and the original draft had been scrapped so many times that it almost made me want to give up and start over. But lucky I didn't or I would've not updated in time. So, yay!

English is hard haha and sometimes it hates me and just doesn't make sense when I read it in my mind versus when I read it outloud. Anyways I will be doing slower updates, so no definitive dates nor titles for the next parts yet. But Part 8 and 9 will be back-to-back spicy NSFW stuff (courtesy of reaching 200 Followers. Thank you lots by the way), So stay tuned!! This is not proofread. So if I missed any warnings feel free to tell me. 🫶

–

Sleep had come naturally to you.

The sound of rapid footsteps and muffled yelling had all but faded into the distance as mere whispers against your ears.

Such rapidness did not seem to fit the silence of what had initially surrounded you. The sudden weight of your own body being dragged left and right until your vision blurs. The stark darkness of city skylines transformed into the unnatural shine of the hospital's fluorescent lights; one that made it hard to pick people's silhouettes apart.

And as such, it reminds you of the distant past.

One that was filled with vast open fields, very unlike the corporate labs you had been accustomed with. A stark contrast to the very corners of Japan, in the countryside where your grandparents had established a simple life for themselves. Filled to the brim with rice crops and summer cicadas.

And it makes you reminisce about the short time you'd spend there. On the cool nights after your summer school days would inevitably end. And you'd be dragged to a summer house where cousins and relatives had doted on you.

Such a homeward bound place was a far cry to the bustling streets of Tokyo's Eastern divisions. Which had often been endowed with the familiar cries of loud music and the steady rumbles of heavy railways underneath you.

One that Kaiju had lamented no peace from.

Even in the midst of high-story buildings where your workplace had boasted the use of sound proof walls. The cityscapes nearest Izumo Tech Corporation could not even be muzzled by its titanium doors, of which Japan's Top Secret Bioweapons had been kept. Schematics and all.

You had grown used to such a taciturn work environment.

Your existence is thrown into the small bubble of your private lab. Segregated from your coworker who valued work over social relations. And you had been much the same.

You and the rest of the technicians were far too focused on your projects. Tinkering away at the prototype suits that the company had sent your way. A partnership between your parent company and Japan’s Defense Force. A task of which you and a few others had been selected to create and maintain.

And how lucky you had been, to land yourself a snug spot in the notoriety of the Third Division's wake. The very same division that had boasted the least amount of casualties in the case of a large-scale Kaiju attack.

The very same division where Mina Ashiro had led and mounted into victory.

And you'd consider yourself lucky to have known such an amazing person in this lifetime.

For fate to have led her to you, you'd assume you've somehow accumulated some sort of good karma in your past life. The reward to you had been fresh in this new one. An action that had garnered some godly being to bestow upon you a chance to meet your soulmate.

You'd be remiss with disappointment if you hadn't met Soshiro Hoshina in this lifetime.

But prior to that. Before Ashiro had recruited you into her division, you had little to no contact with the officers on-field. Delegated to the simple task of sending blueprints in and out of Tachikawa's base should the time arise; begrudgingly in the early mornings of every month too.

Back then, you had befriended a bespectacled girl named Okonogi. Who wore a slightly bigger uniform than the rest of the recruits. A quirk of hers which you found rather amusing. She, who wholeheartedly believed she might still grow into the uniform that was two sizes too bigger than what was recommended of her.

And you had remembered the day you had met her too.

It was another typical day in your routine. Delivering notes to Captain Ashiro in and out of bases. Though this time, you had decided upon taking a detour. Seeing the empty spaces of the mess hall which granted you an opportune moment of grabbing some coffee.

And such a detour had led you upon the bespectacled girl. Your documents slipping from your very fingertips. And your other hand, which held the coffee mind you. Accidentally toppling over. Spilling the liquid against her pristine ivory lab coat. Staining it.

Lucky it had not been hot, or else that could've been an accident in the making.

“I am… so sorry about that.” Your eye catches the glimpse of her nametag, stained with a bit of caffeine. Okonogi was what it read. And you were already pulling out a handkerchief from your pocket. Intent on correcting the mistake you made.

“No, it's okay. Really.”

The sincerity in her voice made you visibly flinch. And you had half a mind to just shove her your wallet, a chance given to compensate her for the coat you ruined. But the look on her eyes was determined. Abrupt in the way she had declined you.

“Are you sure? Money shouldn't be a problem. I can definitely get you a better coat within the day..” You spoke with much guilt. And yet she insisted.

“No need, really! It's just a stain. Nothing a bit of bleach can't handle.” She moves lower with a smile, one hand tucked behind her knees as she tries to pick up the few folders scattered on the ground.

“-Lucky it didn't hit the documents! Or the Director would definitely have our heads for it.” Okonogi had surprisingly jested your way. And a small laugh bubbles between the two of you in turn. As if you had known each other for quite some time now.

“I suppose so.” You had spoken between giggles. The sentiment shared between the two had all but eased the tension of the room.

And the brunette had gingerly handed you the pile of documents that had been untarnished. Though, one in particular catches her trained eye.

It was a simple list of materials used for the next batch of combat suits to-be-made. Or at least, that was the pitch you had planned to present today. In the hopes that Mina Ashiro would give it enough attention and send it to command for a much more direct approval.

And Okonogi, who was a newbie at the time. Had known all too well of the budding genius you had been. A technician far too enraptured in improving Combat Suits and weapons catering for strange combat. One that did not conform to the normalcy of firearms which had modernized the era.

And it seems one of your papers in particular had caught her attention. Like a hammer against glass.

It was a series of notes and drawings involving bronze wires that resembled the muscle groups of a Kaiju's inner workings. All built into the combat suit that had been Izumo Tech's symbolic masterpiece.

And its Kaiju plating was as amazing as it was unconventional. Built to last no doubt in the wake of an ever evolving organization.

Okonogi could not help but stare at it. Admiring the artistry and engineering involved in such a concept.

“An idea of yours?” She asks. And you nod in turn. Surprised by the way she did not immediately question the schematics.

Normally you'd be met with strange looks. One that questioned the very ethics of your research for involving Kaiju parts into the combat suits.

But the Defense Force had long since been converting strong Kaiju into weaponry. And applying the same sentiments to a combat suit, should be no different. “That's right.”

“I was hoping to improve the current designs of the Combat Suits.” You admitted. “If it succeeds, it might help our soldiers a lot more. Survivability wise..I mean.”

And Okonogi smiles at this. A layer of irony mixed in with the few laughs that bubbled within her chest.

She knew how fragile lives can be. Especially in their line of work where they had faced massive enemies almost on a daily basis. And a battle of attrition against such monsters? It was never a pretty picture.

But still, it had been a rare sight to see one so dedicated with quality of life improvements. And it was as if Okonogi knew that she'd be able to trust you with such a task.

“Glad to see you working on it! People have been volunteering less and less these days. But if we had better tech, I'm sure our members would increase by a large margin.”

Her assurance made you nod. Already taking the paper from her hands and delicately sliding it back to the rest of the folders you held. Carefully standing as the both of you had come to smile at each other.

“If there's a chance it can save lives. There's no harm in trying. It's just a part of the job.”

“There's definitely a truth in that.” Okonogi remained positive with a dip to her head. Making her rimmed glasses slide gently from the bridge of her nose. A tilt in her head as she next spoke.

“-But, why use bronze by the way? Wouldn't steel or alloy be a better alternative?”

You had looked over to the notes peeking from your file. And a smile is etched on the very corner of your lips. Complacent in the way you had so easily looked at her, as if you knew something she did not.

“There's a saying you see.”

Okonogi tilts her head upward. Who had finally moved to fixate her gaze to you. Eyes meeting with the absolute tenacity and confidence at your craft. “...a saying?”

You nod. “They say that some people should seek things that are more lasting than bronze.”

“Does bronze not last very long?”

“Oh it does. But even in metals, people try to find something much better right?” Okonogi who had paused to think about your words. Had only nodded in turn. Your sentiment was a much more refreshing and positive take than she had imagined it to be.

“I intend to find that material. One that would make a monument more lasting than the lives we lost.”

And Okonogi’s breath hitches. And you had looked her in the eye, with a determination she was sure would last you a lifetime. “Even if that means I have to dissect a Kaiju and use its very skin as armor.”

A bit morbid for her take. But still, she couldn't help but admire your tenacity. It was the same sentiment she'd see with the soldiers. And somehow, it reminds her of a certain someone who was all smiles despite wielding a blade.

“I suppose most Kaiju do have a layer of tough skin..” She jested. And your shoulders shake with a bubbling smile. The start of a silly friendship perhaps, where Soshiro's eyes would soon flicker your way.

And somehow things just started to click into place.

You didn't know if it was fate. Had it been Okonogi or Mina Ashiro that led you to him. But it wasn't until a few weeks later, you had found yourself responsible for the Third's technical division. Overseeing much of the repairs and weapon upgrades needed for Kaiju slaying. And it was in that very same division where you had grown much closer to him.

A strange recruit, scouted from the Kansai district. Where Captain Ashiro had particularly shown a keen interest in. His skill in the blade had been incomparable to his peers. And although he boasted the highest individual body-count when it came to handling melee pursuits. You had once thought him stupid for sticking to a fighting technique that had long since aged from the existence of firearms.

But how wrong you had been in judging him for that.

Okonogi often reminded you not to be too harsh on him whenever the two of you had just so happened to meet. Jesting that you two would've made a stellar couple, had you both given each other a chance. And although you've denied such things a few times before, Soshiro would always take a glance at you as if reading the expressions on your face. Thoroughly investigating the subtle expressions you wore that would've reached his conclusion.

And each time after that, he too would answer for you. A denial. A white lie.

And Okonogi always saw through it of course. She had been there since the beginning. Serving cupid for the both of you.

And when she can, she had always been peppy in her step. Pushing the both of you in a particular direction. Waiting for one of you to make a move. Calculated like masters playing chess on a board. By far you two had been hopeless. If it wasn’t for Okonogi’s encouragement, Soshiro wouldn’t have thought to visit you between breaks. And how lucky you had been to have the girl pry him out of his skittish shell.

It’s a wonder you two had gotten together like this.

You had rarely seen the girl frown or be frustrated over anything. Let alone your own bite when it comes to Soshiro's mixed signals.

So it had been a sudden whiplash, seeing her so frightened above you. Her voice had been unusually drawled and shaky as she repeated your name. Trying to keep you awake despite the far off look you had in the depths of your irises.

Wait.

Why was it so blurry all of a sudden?

Where were you again?

Right.

You were injured. And from the look on her face, it was probably worse than you had realized. The trickle of an unfamiliar liquid slid down your forehead to the very height of your cheek. Where you could’ve sworn a clawed hand had been there to comfort you.

Larger than your own, and definitely plated with armor. Gently grazing the very skin of your cheek.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

It's starting to hurt. The pain on your lower back had suddenly hit you like a metric ton of weighted bricks. Like something jagged and sharp had punctured through you. A result from a bad fall.

“Sweetheart. Keep yer’ eyes open alright?”

You heard a deep rumble from the side. And your eyes pried away from Okonogi's disturbed features. Suddenly enamored by the wine red irises that looked at you as if you had gone through hell and back.

Had it really been that bad?

Last you checked, you were narrowly able to escape Kaiju's attacks. The flashes of its flaky features had encompassed your mind’s eye. And the ground below you had bellowed like a monster’s mouth. Suddenly ripping open as a shockwave had violently lifted you from your feet.

And like a leaf on a windy day, you were blown to the side. Crashing harshly against the window of a boutique. A stray shard puncturing your lower back to the point of near paralysis. And it leaves you barely conscious to see the not so lucky victims that tried to escape the Kaiju.

One group in particular had been crushed by the rubble of a building. And somehow the scent of blood and bones was enough to knock you out cold. Their downfall would’ve made you vomit, had you not been injured and too dizzy to think about it all.

And as morbid as it sounded, you had been fortunate enough to have only been thrown aside. Sacked into a world of pain which had reminded you that you were very much alive. It had been a miracle that Soshiro found you when he did. Despite the slight sprain on his ankle and the sores he felt in the muscles of his arms. He forced himself to run. Empowered to meet with you, ushered by the help of Number 10’s powers.

And like clockwork he was led straight to you. The fears he had once buried deep in the back of his brain had all came flooding through.

And he didn’t know what to do.

…

You heard a few voices then.

Although it was barely comprehensible, you could make out a few distinct ones from the array of shouts. Your name in particular was whispered in a prayer. Begging you not to fall asleep despite the odd temptation to. And sure enough, the back and forth argument you heard between two figures was enough to keep your mind and heart racing with urgency. The look between Okonogi and Soshiro’s face had all been so different than usual that it frightens you so.

But despite the noise, despite the shouting. You heard him in clear daylight. Like it had been the only voice in the room. Isolated from the rest who had rushed in a frenzy.

“I got ya’ alright? I’m here baby. I’m right here.”

His reassurances had blanked when his voice cracked. Desperate like he had been ready to cry. The way your name had escaped his lips was almost hesitant. As if he didn't deserve to call you out. And you wanted to stop him before his thoughts could drift further. But your voice had failed you when you needed it most. A soft cry escaping your lips instead.

I'm okay.

I'm here.

I'm alive.

All of that died the moment it tried to leave your throat. And without those very words. Soshiro's face was left to contort. As if he were the one in pain instead of you. And how he'd wished that were the case.

“Let me through!”

You heard him scream. And your eyes had focused just enough to see Okonogi and a few nurses blocking his pathway to you. Desperately trying to push past them despite the grievances.

The sight had been a blur.

One second your vision was fine. The next you had felt the telltale signs of drowsiness hit you. And you feel the way the pain medication had started to kick in when your eyes had isolated itself from the world. Your body’s exhaustion hits you squarely on the chest down to your very toes. And when you had been dragged to the next room over. Soshiro had been the last face you had seen before separation. Sleep pulling you over until your breath is taken from you in that instance.

Your name had been the only thing Soshiro could say afterwards.

“I said let me through–That's an order from your Superior Officer, Okonogi.” Soshiro had warned her. Voice uncharacteristically deep when issuing an order. It was normally never used in this way. Such a tone was only ever used to command Number 10 when he had been too stubborn to listen.

But the bespectacled girl knew better than to fan the flame. And in retrospect, she out of anyone would understand his frustrations the most. Yet she stood her ground. Gently shaking her head at her heated friend.

“Vice Captain.” Okonogi started. Hands already raised to try and calm him down. And she could see it in his eyes; the way it subconsciously followed the rolling bed they had put you in.

Dragging your bed into another room where only the best medical practitioners had worked on you. And yet despite that, he couldn't find it in himself to sit still. His gut sinking at the mere thought of you getting worse than when he had already found you in. And he was willing to bet Weapons 10 had all but read the blatant emotions he displayed on his sleeve. With or without having to delve into his mind.

He was in utter ruin just from your condition.

“-Please understand. You cannot, in under any circumstances enter the surgery room, sir.”

“To hell with that!”

The scream had made Okonogi frown. And Soshiro had half a mind to push past the smaller woman. And rush forward with Number 10's help. But he stopped midway. Reminding himself that his suit could go on a rampage at any time. And right now, he did not want to expose Okonogi and a handful of civilians to Number 10's war-ridden desires. His deep baritones had instead vanished for more firm ones. Unlike the resentment from prior. Oddly curt in his delivery.

“Move. Or I’ll do somethin’ drastic.” He steps forward.

A threat is a threat, and he hoped that would at least be enough to convince the bespectacled girl to move. Yet Okonogi had known him for far too long to actually perceive it as one. And she looks unfazed by his words.

“Sir please.” She pleaded. “It'll only worry you more.”

Her voice was gentle. Understanding even. It almost reminded him of the way you speak at times. Stern but with a hint of softness when it came to his stubbornness. And how he wished it was you he was talking to right now.

“Just please try to calm down. We should get your own wounds treated first and then we can-”

“Fuck no. I'm going in there and-”

“Hoshina.” The stern voice of their Captain had made them both flinch. And the heavy cleats of Mina Ashiro'a footsteps had gotten louder as she had made her way closer to the two.

“Captain Ashiro.” Soshiro had spoken with a much more leveled tone than he did earlier. Hand raising into a salute as the rest followed suit. Though even in his greeting, his frustrations had still been made entirely clear. And he was more than willing to face insubordination just to get to you. But Mina was one step ahead of him.

“Hoshina. You’re causing a disturbance and deliberately disrupting the medical wing from doing their job--I'd let you run some laps. But I can see you're injured.”

Soshiro had glanced down at his body, a light scoff emerging from his lips when she had noticed the way he stood, limping.

“Patch your own wounds up and we can discuss it later.”

And Soshiro had frowned at the way she immediately knew. A sixth sense perhaps that he had been getting sloppy. And sometimes he feared Mina Ashiro would kick him out of the Third because of it. But Mina made no such accusation, instead her eyes had been understanding.

Firm as they usually are, she, like Okonogi, was quite aware of your relationship with Soshiro. And by all means, she understood his sentiment.

Today had been a jumbled mess. And Soshiro was practically facing the very brunt of it all.

With you as its victim.

“But-”

“That's an order, Vice Captain. Do not make me repeat myself.” Her stern reply had been met with his half-meant glare. Red irises swirling with thoughts before ultimately concluding that Mina had been right. Okonogi too. He'd just been too stubborn to see it.

And for a good few seconds, he finally drops his own staring.

Reluctant as he had finally turned around. Facing Okonogi with a sort of defeated look in his eyes. Uncharacteristic to her as he'd normally be so cheery, even in the face of impending death.

He'd be thrown into a pit. And as long as he was still kickin’ he'd probably end up smiling and joking about it the next day.

This had definitely been a first for the two to witness.

And although Mina had not usually been the closest to Soshiro. He couldn't help but make an exception this time. She'd waive him of running laps, not as an officer. But as her friend. And a stern hand was placed squarely on his shoulder. Gently giving it a pat of reassurance. One that Okonogi would follow up with her own.

“It'll be okay. Right Captain?” Okonogi glanced between the two.

“That's right. I'll see to it personally that she gets the best care. For now, get yourself patched up–That'll be the punishment you get for speaking to your superior officer.” She awkwardly spoke. Though a small reassuring smile had cracked on the face of her usually hardened expressions.

And such a sentiment from both the girls had silenced him before he could think of another protest to answer with.

“understood.” He begrudgingly spoke. His hand balling into tight fists at the possibility that you'd wake up without him by your side.

Bronze was made to last, yet it wasn't exempt from tarnish after all.

“Good. I'll inform you shortly once her treatment is done–Okonogi.”

“Yes?” Her reply had been immediate.

“Make sure his wounds are treated. And, I expect a detailed report on Number 10's latest excursion later.”

“Roger.” Okonogi had saluted. And Soshiro watched her as she slowly walked past them. Entering the very same room where he had not even had the chance to take a glimpse in.

His arms had gently felt the pull to another direction. Okonogi had done well at Mina's request as he had all but dragged his feet further away from the blaring red lights of the operating room.

And the flicker of your sleeping face was all that’s left before he too was separated somewhere else.

A place where he was left to wonder what will become of you. And for a moment, his distinct thought was a scenario where he hadn't met you.

If only he hadn't asked you out that day..things would've turned differently.

Right?

…

Your eyes blew wide open. The strangled breaths you took were caught on your throat as you could smell the bitter antiseptics nip the back of your nostrils. It reminded you of a hospital. That of which you had the unpleasant experience of having to frequent anytime Soshiro would come back to base injured.

Often you'd be on the other side of his bed. A frown on your face as the condition of his health had been on the top of your mind. And each time with a smile, he'd make a joke to ease the tension in the room. A signal to indicate he had been alright. Despite the lack of words you two would exchange.

Habitually it was you unharmed. You left to worry at his bedside.

So it had been a rare sight indeed, to find yourself on the opposite side of the spectrum.

Laid in thin hospital robes. Connected to a needle of an IV drip. The constant flow of medicine made you drowsy and your thoughts jumbled into a mesa of numbness. And if you had looked at the amount of bandages wrapped around your torso you'd surely start squirming in place.

But just when you were about to scrutinize the heavy onset of your heartrate’s monitor. The blaring sound was all but silenced when you heard the familiar tremors of his voice. Smooth and soft, like you had always heard them as.

“Yer’ finally awake.”

You turned to his direction. Bright eyes had met his own which had been as familiar as it was squinted. His irises were more crystalline and tired than usual. Puffy on the corners, like he hadn't been given a chance to get a good night’s sleep between your hospitalization.

And yet, despite the unfamiliarity of his somber tone; the despondent frowns he'd make.

His voice had been the sound you missed the most.

“Soshiro..” You croak out. Voice dry like someone had stuffed cotton down your throat. And you try your best to scoot closer. To move and stand like you had always done when faced towards him. But this greeting would cut short. Hands restrained by firm bandages and hollow tubes that weighed heavily on your skin. And you hadn't realized the mumble of a barely audible whimper from your mouth. One that Soshiro could not miss even if he tried to.

Soshiro noticed the way you had squirmed. Struggling to sit up. Which made him all the more vigilant. And he ends up closing the small leatherbound book he'd always brought with him. Sinking it back on his pocket where you had been accustomed to seeing it.

Walking much closer to you in an attempt to calm and shush you.

“Where are we?” You asked him. And his fingers hesitantly graze your cheek. The same way when you had blood trickling down it moments prior. “Base. The Medical wing took ya’ in.”

His words were oddly curt in delivery. And although the average person who knew Soshiro on a surface level could probably not tell. You were able to differentiate the distinct way his voice had sounded odd. Such sentiments laid rather clearly for you. And you can see the layer of guilt etched on his stiff face.

“Okonogi?” You inquired. And he gives you a nod.

“Safe. I'll call her for ya’ later so she doesn't worry.” and you let out a breathless sigh. Your head slumping against the cushion of the soft pillow. The lingering feeling of glass and cement on you had all been but a pipe dream now. A memory that you'd soon forget.

And how Soshiro wished it was that easy for him to forget.

“How are you feelin? I can call the nurse for ya if anything hurts.” He moves to turn around.

Eyes already searching for the small caller that was given to him in case of emergencies. Though your hand, as painful as it felt, had pulled him in. Weak fingertips grabbing the sleeves of his jacket to refuse him. Your eyes remained squinted as they were sharp despite the fatigue. And you caught the glimpse of bandages wrapped around his skin. A stark testament to the rest of his unblemished face.

“What happened?” You had immediately tried to get up. Alert in the way you had wanted to reach out and inspect his own injuries. But the fatigue of your body had stopped you. Causing you to slump forward and unto his willing arms who had been cautious in the way he handled you.

“Easy. You're still…not well.” Soshiro gently nudged you back down. Hand placed squarely on your chest to ease you into the pillow. But you stubbornly persisted. Compromising by sitting up against the bed's headboard instead.

“That doesn't matter. What's more important is, what happened to you. Are you alright?”

“That doesn't matter? Are you seriously askin’ me that right now?” For a moment you mistake his scoff for a laugh. His hands which had held you firmly had just as quickly left leaving the spot on your skin cold and yearning for his proximity.

Had you said something wrong? This aggression was unlike him.

Soshiro was rarely this agitated. And your voice couldn't help shrivel in meek irritation. Unsure whether you should respond back with much the same turbulence.

“Should I…not be asking you that?” You spoke unsure. And he shakes his head in turn.

“You were dead-still for five days straight and yer tellin’ me THAT doesn't matter right now?”

You didn't know how else to reply. The way his tone had shifted into a scoff had made you double back to glare at his face. For once since you awoke, you truly saw how tense he had been. Gone was his usual suave smile that made you laugh or cry in between meetings.

He had been too worried to focus on that. But you had been too frustrated at this sudden change. That it made your voice come more forcefully than you anticipated. “Well isn't it obvious? I'm worried about you.”

You replied. Your own expression had squished into rapid vexation. And you see the way he takes a few steps back, too far for your touch to reach. And it pained you that you couldn't just stand up and make him face you like you usually could.

“And you think I don't feel the same!?” He spoke loudly. Causing your shoulders to flinch in turn. One he had regretted as soon as he spoke. And yet, he continued.

“You don't think..that I didn't nearly kill myself when I found you bleeding in the middle of that goddamn street?” He pointed out the window.

And your expression had turned liquid at the images that flash in your mind. Imagining how he had found you. His thoughts, his expressions..you could only imagine the torment he felt the moment he found you. Barely breathing.

His breaths came in gasps. Eyes widened so that you can clearly see the crimson of his eyes peeking through. And suddenly you notice the way Soshiro had oddly been so vulnerable in front of you. The quips on your sore throat began to die down when you saw how frustrated–how fearful he had looked in the moment. And gods did you wish you woke up sooner just to comfort him.

“No–that’s not what I meant. I only wanted to know if you were okay. Is it so wrong to ask?”

“Well maybe ya’ shouldn't have asked at all.” He huffed out. Looking away from you with regret lingering on his features.

It was stupid. He thought To get so frustrated over something so tiny. But as much as Soshiro Hoshina excluded the guise of a proper adult. He had been flawed just like the rest of everyone else. And he'd be lying if he didn't have his moments of doubt. Often scrutinizing in the lonely privacy of his home. Where he knew no one would bother him.

That is of course, before you had entered his life.

But not everything was understood between the two of you. Okonogi was a witness to the piles of misunderstandings you both had caused. And without help you two were likely never to get along, habitually falling for the same skittish routine you had played at.

But a miracle happened. With him belonging to you. And you belonging to him.

So why was it that your heart cramped so much? Surely it was not the pains of a physical injury. Let alone a type of sickness.

Instead it was struck by simple bad habits and insecurities. One of which even you had trouble dealing with. And the loud firmness of his voice had made such an impact on your heart that you began to frown. Unable to hold back your bite.

“What is your problem!?” You started. “Listen, can we just please have this conversation some other time. And then we can-”

“And then we can, what? Do you want me to just sit here and forget that all happened?” He had interjected.

And suddenly you feel your brows knit tightly. Eyes feeling heavy from the burst of a headache you had gotten. Of all the times Soshiro wanted to argue, it's the time you had just woken up.

But he wasn't entirely unjustified.

There have been plenty of moments where you had fanned the flames of a fire that should've ended right then and there. Your word choice is poor and your temperament less than ideal.

For as frustrated as you had been, you understood Soshiro's sentiments. And your hands had raised as a sort of white flag. Not needing this fight to escalate more than it should.

Not when you were both injured and all you wanted to do was crawl into his arms.

“-Listen Soshiro, I didn't mean to upset you. I only wanted to know if you were okay.”

“Does that matter?” He repeats your own words. And you had to hold back another jab of acknowledgement. Smart in the way he played his words. It almost made you want to laugh. But this time, your intent came from sincerity.

And his small play of mockery had been a sight for sore eyes, since you had quickly gotten the gist of what he had been trying to convey. Wrong in your choice of words. This time, you correct your mistake. Sincerity and all.

“Yes it matters. More than anything– of course it matters.” You had told him. And you see the way Soshiro’s mouth quivers into a small tremble. Uncanny when he'd normally be so laid-back and sweet when it came to you.

And how you'd wish he just took a breather and relaxed. Maybe take a break so that they could talk things out. Without yelling preferably. But that had not been possible. At least not just yet from the way he replied.

“Well had I not made it in time, you woulda’ been dead. Do you hear me?”

“And yet, Here. I. Am. A witness to your unwarranted behavior.”

“Behavior that's justified because I shouldn't have let you outta my sight.”

Silence had followed soon after. Your mouth gapes for a moment to think of a reply when the words slip past your lips. And Soshiro would note how uncharacteristic that was, even for you. He, who was always used to your quick replies and clever jabs. But it seems his words had cut too far this time.

And he pried his eyes away from you. Chest heaving as he ran a hand through his face. “I shouldn't have..”

He composed himself. Clearing his throat whilst you looked at him with an etched frown on your face. One that he wished would go away. But he had been the cause of this.

He had been the one to make your smile go away. And it somehow makes him feel even worse.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. I just-”

“Soshiro.” Your voice sounded like bells. And when he looked up, relief had immediately sagged his shoulders upon seeing your gaze blown wide open. Not at all restrained by the pain medication and exhaustion you had felt.

And your hand had gently reached up to grab his own. Gentle in the way her thumb caressed his knuckle which had been previously so bruised and bloodied.

And although there was a struggle to reach for his hand. Your touch was met halfway. Gently threading your much softer skin that would've paled in comparison to a blanket had he not taken glances.

“What happened back there wasn't your fault. We couldn't have known that the Kaiju would follow me back to the shelter.” You whisper. And Soshiro's expression had turned serious. Like he held a weight that you couldn't possibly fathom even if you tried.

“And yet I let it slip away.”

“I let it get to you, and now you're in here because of me.” He had wanted to so badly pull away from you. To walk himself out before he could be tempted to lean back into those pretty eyes of yours. But the moment he met your sight.

Those sad eyes of yours had been his journey's end. And he couldn't do that to you. Not when your expression had frustratingly asked him to stay.

“And yet it was also because of you that I'm still alive and breathing, Soshiro.” You reasoned. “You don't give yourself enough credit. If it hadn't been for you I would've been-”

“Dead.” He cut you off. “You would've been dead.”

“No. You wouldn't have allowed that. You're the Vice Captain, remember? If there's anywhere safer for me, it's by your side.” You didn't know whether such assurances had really made him listen. The way he was assured in that answer of his wasn't a mere fortnight conclusion. It was as if he had been thinking of such consequences for a much longer time, and that alone makes your heart sink.

So you scooted closer. Moving in to try and pull him down so that you could wrap your arms around his neck. And just when you were snaking it through his shoulders. His hands had stopped you midway.

His calloused palms holding on to the points of your elbows as he gently pries you off of him.

Normally this would be met with your pout. Maybe another bout of force just let the stubborn man look your way. But you had been too weak, still healing from an injury you had no control over. And his response is far too swift for your liking. Leaving your arms missing the warmth his body could provide you.

“No, no, no, no, no–no. You don't understand. I don't deserve to be anywhere near you right now.” He had managed to convince himself. Looking away as the anxiety within you had spiked upon his words.

“Soshiro. Listen to me we can-”

“What I’m saying is that we're done here.”

You had blinked. Looking up at him who had towered above your bed. A somber look on his expression despite the daunting words he had spoken. He looked passive. Unaffected even. Like he had been ready for this moment which had been planned for a long time coming. And your voice could only muster a feeble whisper.

“What do you mean we're done?”

“It's over.” Soshiro continued. Not once paying your face any heed. Lest he change his mind from doing you a greater good he deemed correct. “I don't want anything to do with ya’ anymore.”

If this had been a dream you would've laughed at the way he delivered such a sentiment.

You'd somehow suppress the inner workings of your shock and you'd wake up to find the morning documents you promised yourself to do; in the desk untouched where it usually had been.

And by the time you left your room, you'd habitually laugh it off and tell Soshiro about it in the afternoon just to get a chuckle and light scolding out of him. The usual banter that admittedly, had always been the highlight of your day.

But this had not been a dream.

And hearing him say that. Had hurt more than you anticipated it seemed. And your voice cracks before you can even register yourself speaking.

"Is this because you think I can't love you?" The sudden appearance of tears had painted your face. And you had tried to sniff away the bigger ones that threatened to spill over. But to no avail.

And Soshiro’s eyes widen at the telltale signs of your crying. An unexpected third party which had not been invited to the list of things he ought to do. And his head reels to face you once more. Seeing your face redden with a shame he'd never thought he'd see.

"Do you really think that I'm incapable of willingly loving you? Even beyond that fucking sword of yours-" And Soshiro had all but shook his head. Remorseful in the way tears had jerked from your eyes.

"That ain't the point!"

"Then what IS the point!?" Your tears had blurred your vision. And your hand had embarrassingly moved up to wipe it. One that Soshiro had wished to do for himself had he not been so stubborn.

“-What is the point if I can't make sense of you trying to leave me?"

The turmoil in your voice had been made present. One so encompassing that Soshiro couldn't ignore. And as much as it hurts you to scream. It hurt him to see you suddenly cry like this. Someone he associated as being so usually strong-willed, crumbling in a few short words from him. And suddenly, it feels as if he wants to swallow back his words. Mouth churned into regret when he had moved to take a step closer to you.

“Sweetheart, please..I-”

He shook his head. Suddenly finding himself kneeling down in front of your bed. And when your eyes had met his, it was as if his heart had stopped momentarily. Too focused on the way you had looked at him in desperation. Mixed with both physical and emotional pain.

And he had been the cause of that. Regrettably he knew he had been the cause of that.

"Is the idea of me loving you THAT terrible of a concept to you?" you spoke flimsily. Words betraying the tone you wanted to convey. And somehow you felt worse than when blood was unnaturally seeping out of your wound.

And his own body. One that betrayed his own commands, had a mind of its own. Strong arms wrapping around your bandaged ones that had still been healing from the minor cuts you had accumulated. And the warm steady beat of his heart had drowned you back into reality. Cheeks pressed against his and regrettably, soiling his jacket.

Not that he minded of course. Far too focused on wiping your tears away. Shushing you when you'd shudder from the breathless sniffles he'd been the cause of.

"Shit- no sweetheart no. I didn't mean it."

“I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” His instant apologies and regrets had echoed for a few moments. The sudden urge to calm you down had him reeling just to caress your shoulders. Weary of the injuries you were faced with as you cried in his arms.

And the struggling shudders you were faced with had all been too painful to see. Comical in the way he had all but worsened your condition when stressing a healing patient had been the last thing people needed to be reminded of.

Yet here you were, struggling to even cry when every breath would agitate any bandaged injuries you'd gotten. And it had been his fault entirely.

“I'm not leaving ya. I'm right here..” He whispered. And you had forcibly glanced up. Seeing the way his distress had wrinkled those usually foxy eyes. Like he had suddenly gained a keen sense of his stupidity and finally realized that his sentiments were not helping you. And upon realization you couldn't help but feel how silly all this had been.

You would've laughed had you not wasted such excess energy into crying your heart out in front of him. Likely an accumulation from the week's worth of not being able to see each other.

That and other things, which were obvious enough.

But you spoke. Wanting to pick his thoughts apart. Reason with him the next time this may happen. And your eyes flutter away the tears as you had finally managed to calm down enough to ask him.

“Then why? Why even suggest that?” Your voice had been soft. His thumbs move to caress the stray tears away from your face. Even moving to casually use his sleeves to gently wipe your cheeks in assurance of his presence. And you close your eyes at the simple gesture. Suddenly feeling much better now that he had been so close to you like this.

Crap, he set himself up didn't he? And just when he had this all planned out too.

In the wake of your hospitalization, he had planned to leave you. Somehow make you change occupations. Maybe work for a tech company where your life wouldn't be on the line. Where you'd be far away from his life and you could live a happy, seperate life from him.

But who was he kidding? Even he thinks it's stupid. The idea of doing you the greater good.

It had sounded conclusive back then.

He'd likely die young, a Kaiju attack that he had lacked defenses in no doubt. And somehow, you'd weasel your way out and live an old happy life.

Like bronze. Tarnished but long lasting.

But you had seen through his intention. And every right to refuse such a concept had knocked him over the head. A simple shed of tears was all it took for such a carefully built wall to crumble. His resolve in shambles at the mere thought of you leaving.

And to take that away from you. To separate the both of you like that? It felt wrong. And somehow his stupidity makes him laugh.

And the next words uttered had been voluntary on his part. Sloppy but it came out from an honest place. That even he doubted its power.

"Because, it scares me how much I need you. Okay?" He leans in. Head against your own so that your noses would touch. And you could see the little cracks on that smile of his. A stark contrast to the facade of laughs he'd usually give off. And it makes your heart flutter upon such fleeting confessions.

"Just hearing that voice of yours is enough to wreck me. And ruin me for anybody else."

"And when I saw you. Layin' there with that faraway look on your eyes. I just couldn't fucking breathe."

The way his eyes had not once left yours had felt like the first time you had met him. In that room with the Captain watching your interactions.

You had been less amicable to each other by then. Always second guessing each other by investigating the little nuances of your expressions. But somehow, the difficulties in reading each other had not been so far fetched. And the longer you two would spend time together. The more you had an inkling of what the other was thinking. And eventually an unspoken understanding had come between the both of you.

One that required no words to speak. Nor assistance from anywhere else. Just you and him. Nothing more.

"What If I lose you? You're all I fucking have.."

"Soshiro.” You whispered. Suddenly feeling the weight of his words drop down on you upon his realization. And you shake your head in turn. Immediately running your hands on the soft tresses of his hair. “You’re not going to lose me.”

“And what if I did?” He was quick to interject. “What if I had been a second too late and you were killed?”

“-And yet I'm still here. See?” You moved his intertwined hands to your chest. Firmly letting him feel the pulse of your heart. A repetition had to be made in order to convince him. And if you had to do such things a million times, there was no doubt you’d do it a thousand more times.

And his hand couldn't help but press firmly. Gingerly looking everywhere to check your wellbeing. Satisfied when he had settled in your slightly puffy eyes that he had been all too remorseful of when he found it too pretty to look away from.

You leaned in. Pressing light kisses against his cheeks to calm his thoughts. The voice in the back of his head all but silenced. When the adrenaline kicked in, because somehow he found himself unfocused when he caught your lips in his.

It was short and sweet.

Far different from the many picturesque and grandiose kisses he'd read about in books. And far too slow amidst the rush hours of your working breaks. Where you'd snag a few touches here and there just to get a rise out of each other. No this had been far too different. Far too gentle than it normally was. But despite the innocence of such a contact. It had made a more lasting impact on him.

The hesitation implied vulnerability, and without it. You'd be remiss to see Soshiro's true feelings underneath it. And it makes you pull away to rub your own hands against his chest. Admiring the way his uniform had engulfed him warmly in the cold air conditioning in the room.

All that matters was that they were okay now.

All that matters is that they are together now. Is that so much to ask?

“I won't die so easily, Soshiro.” Your assurances had made him perk up. Head still leaning against yours where you could see the pretty hallmarks of his tired eyes.

“I may not be able to know..everything in that damn head of yours. But what I do know? Is that I have unwavering trust in you. And that's the only reason I made it out alive today.” Your voice had made him crack a smile. One that makes you raise a brow at him. Suddenly fixated on the way his demeanor had changed so easily when you had spoken your piece.

And Soshiro, ever the enigma that he was. Had stopped his reluctance around you. Finally getting a chance to relax as his hands slotted its way to the bounce of your cheek and jaw, which he had always found so endearing to touch and look at.

He couldn't help but run soothing circles on your flesh. A habit he might've picked up on when reading a few romances here and there.And it makes you wonder if he had always been this sweet. A layer unknown go you that you'd love to rediscover, if only he'd put down that smart mouth of his.

“I think that was ‘bout a week ago.” He corrected you. His face is as snarky as his comment. And that was enough to shake your head.

But of course, that had been too much to ask. Too far and few inbetween. You spoke too soon.

“Fine. A week ago.” You affirmed. Though this time you had rolled your eyes with a laugh of your own.

And the two of you had simply sat there. Soshiro rocking you back and forth as best he could without risking your injuries. Hands against the plush of your waistline, carefully making sure the stitches were still intact. But the warmth had remained.

This time he had been less distant. More calm and understanding like he had usually been. And that was enough for you. For now.

“Do you mean that?”

“Mean what?” You had blinked with a smile on your face. Sweet as it came, you had a viper that you knew how to use. And Soshiro wasn't ever one to stop confronting it. Even if he had to break out of his shell to ask the harder questions between you both.

“When you said you loved me.” He added.

And he wouldn't be able to miss that pretty smile forming on the corners of your lips. Leaning against him until the softness of your lips had grazed his chapped ones. Though you’d note, it was still gentle. Still his. And still yours to capture should you want it.

“Do I have to kiss you again and prove it?” You mutter out.

“Do you not want to right now?”

And without a doubt did you lean in. Capturing his lips with a crooked smile in between. Soft and sensual. And you had missed this. Missed him who had not gotten the chance to set things right by you.

How long had it been since you had taken the time to really kiss him? Without the rush of prying eyes, nor the responsibilities that came with their work. It was just a kiss, yet in this moment it felt like everything.

Slow and reassuring. Without the need of words to complicate things. It had conveyed everything he needed to know. And when you pulled back, Soshiro could see the pretty pearls of your teeth. Admiring the way your lips had bruised red from how eagerly he had captured your mouth. And he wouldn't dream of being anywhere else in the world right now. Not when you had looked so perfect. Hospital gown and all.

“Does that prove my point?”

He laughs. Something you had always thought to be pretty.

“Maybe.” The familiar trace of his hand had brushed past your hair. Straightening out the few loose strands that could obscure him from your face. And his smile, although back to the usual cat-like facade, had now softened up significantly upon your presence. And you had prided the way this man had looked at you like you had offered him the world.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at ya. I just-”

“Shh..I know.” Your hand had touched his lips. Admiring the way it too, had reddened from your previous kisses.

“I'm tougher than bronze, you know? I'm not so simple as to let a few words bend me sideways.”

“Okonogi tells me the same.”

“And right she was. You should learn a thing or two from her.” And a laugh bubbles between the two of you. He had to remind himself to save his apologies later for Okonogi. For despite her absence, even now she was playing cupid for them. The small voice in his head urging him to tell you how he truly felt.

And without warning. He managed to say it outloud.

“I love you.”

Those words had struck a melodic chord in you. Ones that made you look back at him in temporary stupor. Before finally turning giddy at the way he so gently said it. No remorse. No regret. A fact even she couldn't deface as mockery. When there'd normally be a trick of a joke involved.

And in your quiet smiles held a deep admiration for him. Ones that squeezed Soshiro's hand despite the difficulty of your injuries.

But that didn't matter. Injuries heal after all. And right now, you had been far too focused on him to mind the slowly subsiding pain on your body.

“What's this all of a sudden? You're not joking are you?” You ask cautiously. Though a smile still remained on your face. Far too elated at hearing those words. And from the look on his face, you could tell he had been serious in his admission.

“It's not sudden. I just–” Soshiro lets out a small chuckle. Not entirely sure why he feels so nervous in the wake of your question.

“I meant to say it that day. Before the Kaiju attacked. I wanted it to be perfect for ya and..” His voice stops when you lean in. Cuddling him down as best you could in the safety of the hospital's bedsheets. The understanding look in your eyes had all but told him that you knew. And it makes him think twice about having to explain things to you again. Not when you could now read him so well. Especially in the most important aspects of his life.

“I know. You don't need to tell me twice."

He heard you speak. Though the hint of playfulness in your voice hadn't subsided. A reminder that you had been slowly regaining your strength. And pretty soon, you'd be pulling him down by the collar just to kiss him breathless if you wanted to.

But for now, he was gonna have to take care of you. Take the lead and deal with your smart comments. And it makes him smile knowing he'd get to hear such witty banters from you again. More so now that you were awake.

“Really now? And I thought you'd be happy to have me say it outloud for ya.”

His chuckle had made his chest rumble. And you could feel the pleasant vibration as your head fell squarely on his chest. A roll in your eyes as you had hummed in reply.

“Well…I suppose it couldn't hurt for you to say it again.”

And he would. He'd do it as long as you'd allow him that privilege.

And this time, he too had read you like an open book. Somehow fitting perfectly in the way they understand the other without needing to speak. They needed to work on it. They needed each other more than ever before.

So it was lucky their bonds were more lasting than bronze. And fate had brought them together.

[weaselle]

RECOVERY

I spent a lot of my life depressed without admitting it to myself and then i spent a year so depressed i could hardly make myself do the bare minimum to keep my body alive, and now it's about 3 years since i got up from that lowest point and while i am still struggling with myself things are objectively a lot better.

and i just want to put a couple things i've learned, both to remind myself of how far i've come, and in case any of what i've experienced helps anyone else.

You can't run from the darkness

When you're super depressed it's easy to focus on how much you don't want to be depressed. When everything is darkness you tend to wish you could escape that darkness.

but you can't. The darkness is all around you. You can't run away from it without running deeper into it.

instead, follow the light.

don't think of it as escaping depression, think of it as seeking joy. Don't run away from the darkness, walk toward any lights you can see.

At first it will be very small things. The taste of a food. The way your favorite color looks. A smell you like. For me one of the first things i could find to remind me of joy was the way a warm shower feels.

I would just stand in the shower and lean into the tiny, tiny joy of that feeling. I would describe it to myself, how it felt good, what about it felt good. It didn't cure me, it didn't make me less depressed, but it was a little point of joy to focus on, to breathe into like a tiny candle flame in my darkness.

I would memorize that feeling, so that later, when i felt like nothing ever brought me joy anymore, i could think, no, that's your depression lying to you, you felt joy, however small, right there in the shower just yesterday. And, maybe there is more somewhere else.

Even today, it's been a hard week, i'm feeling a lot of hopeless and helpless feelings clamoring away at me, but... i have spicy soup. And spicy soup is a NEW joy. I found spicy soup joy as i was following any little light i could out of the deepest part of my depression.

I never put hot sauce in soup before then. But today i am drinking the broth of a very spicy soup and as much as everything else is complicated and difficult and scary and dark, there is a bright mote of joy in this sip of spicy soup. And in the next one. And the next. I enjoy it, i love it, all the more that it is new, and if i had given up four years ago, i never would have known this small joy, this new favorite tiny thing.

Who knows what other little joys i may find?

If you have come to a place in life where you have lost the knowledge of how to feel joy, it is important to remember that feeling joy is like anything else in life. The more you practice, the better you get, the more of it you can do at higher levels.

And there are only so many minutes in the day. The more of them you spend acknowledging what feels good, the less of them will be left for feeling bad.

you can't escape the darkness by fleeing from it, but you can find the light by moving toward it.

Chop Wood Fetch Water

Another thing i learned was a truth about the exercise advice you always hear.

For where i am in my recovery now, common exercise has very little impact. I don't really get the endorphins people talk about, and i don't tend to feel better about myself after i work out unless i already feel pretty okay about myself to begin with. i don't mean to say there is no point in me exercising, but, i walk about ten miles a day holding onto 8 energetic dogs and i do a fair amount of lifting and bending and stuff for my job, and it's fine but it's not, like, doing a whole lot for me at this point in my recovery (tho i do think more recreational exercise will come back into play a stage or two on in my healing process)

HOWEVER

There was a year there where i was only getting out of bed to go to the bathroom. When i was only able to force myself to eat just enough each day to stay alive because i'd made a promise to myself, and that promise was almost all i had left.

and the right kind of exercise is what pulled me out of that.

the RIGHT kind.

See, someone close to me needed help with a physical job. That was an important part and why this method is known historically as some variation of Chop Wood Carry Water -- it's intensely physical, which is important, but also, it helps the people around you. These days our personal communities tend to not need wood copped and water carried the same way. But you can get the same effect helping someone move all their furniture, doing all the yard work for your friends and/or family, volunteering for a charity that builds housing for homeless people, SOMEthing physically taxing that helps people.

In my case, my aging father needed help re-shingling the roof. So i promised i'd help.

So i got up every morning because he was expecting me. And i climbed the ladder because he would see me if i didn't. And i lifted and carried and hammered and worked hard. It took a week of six to eight hour days.

Right away, the fact that it was helping someone else made it not matter so much that it didn't feel like it was helping me at first. I couldn't deny that i was doing something good, that my existence had positive meaning, however small.

But very soon, it changed something fundamental in my state of depression. You can't do physical labor in the sun 7 hours a day without drinking a bunch of water. Without working up an appetite. Without getting very tired at the end of the day.

See, i had been struggling to make myself drink enough water, i was fighting to make myself eat even one small meal's worth of food each day, and i couldn't get a good night's sleep to save my life. And these things all made my depression much much worse. You think you get sad or angry from skipping a meal, consider being chronically undernourished. You think your mental state is worse after pulling an all nighter, think about what never getting a good night's sleep does.

But a couple days into this job with my father, and suddenly i was hydrated, i was eating full meals, and i was sleeping soundly at night.

THAT is what pulled me out of that deepest part of my depression.

So in a way, it was exercise that saved me. But not how people often say "have you tried exercising?" More like pushing myself physically to the point that my body demanded the things that previously i couldn't get it to want for itself.

Instead of forcing myself to eat i was craving food. Instead of staying up to all hours and then tossing and turning, i was physically exhausted and slept early and hard. (and, weirdly, being physically exhausted was somehow a relief from being emotionally/mentally exhausted)

Lastly

Healing often isn't noticeable while you're doing it

"healing is a process" is something you hear a lot, but i think it's more helpful to say something like

"Healing is like growing your hair out from short to long. You can look in the mirror every day and not notice it happening. And even when you can tell for sure it's longer than it was, you still can't really do anything with it, and it may seem pointless. But then one day you can tie it back in a ponytail and you realize how much it's grown and how many options are open to you now and you're really glad you stuck with it"

Now excuse me while i go meditate on the joys of my remaining spicy soup.

[owlcomics101]

Zombie Task force 141 x immune!Reader head cannons

Warnings: possible gore (We are talking about zombies here), corpses, Language (Cussing), sfw (I am a minor), fluff, Reader is gender neutral.

Context/backstory: The zombie apocalypse started few months ago. You were just a citizen, but not just any citizen, you were one of the very few who were immune to the Virus. You were being hunted by people who wanted to you use to find the cure to the virus, but that meant the cost of your life. There had to be a better way to get the cure. Right? Lasswell later found you, she was one of the very few soldiers left unaffected in the British military. Lasswell needed your help. The whole task force was infected but by some miracle they can still work. They just need someone to keep them grounded. Someone human who could take few bite or scratches. But you had no military experience, you only somewhat knew how to use a pistol and a knife thanks to the apocalypse. You were currently being escorted to an old run down base by two masked soldiers who were infected as well. You could tell by how they made groans and gurgling sounds and couldn’t take their eyes off you . You could’ve sworn you saw drool drip down from their masks. You could already see the silhouette of the task force. They have been waiting for you.

Soap: Soap was the most unstable of the group. As much as he didn’t want to bite or hurt you there has been a few close calls. Especially if you drew blood. You always kept your skin covered as much as you could around Soap. You would borrow any of the team’s old oversized uniforms and covered your arms, legs, and neck with it. Soap couldn’t help but be a bit possessive of you. Wither it be because of his urges to eat you or that you’re the only human who ever treated him and the others like people and not monsters. Whenever you were close to other zombie soldiers, Soap would tightly hold your hand the whole time. Price constantly has to remind Soap that you’re capable of taking care of yourself and to stop acting like your body guard 24/7 but he just can’t help himself. Enjoy an over protective, walking Scottish Corpse looming over you.

Ghost: Ghost was the first one of the team to be infected when the virus first broke out. He attempted to cut his jaw off to prevent himself from biting anyone before he turned but it was already too late. Soap found Ghost gurgling and groaning as he was feasting off the remains of another soldier. To Soap’s horror and relief that he also found Ghost…crying? Ghost was still conscious, somewhat at least. The team took him back to get studied and maybe even cured but that wasn’t the case. Ghost had starved himself for weeks, refusing to eat another human being again but when Soap came to check on him. Ghost lost it and bit into Soap. When you first arrived Ghost did his best to distance himself from you. He was already a distant person to begin with but he also didn’t want to hurt you like he did to Soap, despite Soap already have forgiven him multiple times. But you just kept getting closer, somehow breaking down his walls with your affection and that sweet smile of yours. That Damm smile.

Gaz: The last to be infected. He couldn’t bear to leave his team behind, even if they were zombies. Gaz stayed with them as long as he could. Trying to keep the team sane and stop them from eating everything like you are now, but one mission Gaz got bit by an enemy soldier and it was all over. Gaz is the least decomposed compared to the others, he looked the most human. Which meant he’d accompany you when going into places with People. Gaz is a bit more in control than Soap or Ghost but sometimes his mouth can’t help but water being surrounded by people. He wore a balaclava mask to somewhat muffle his senses, but thankfully you were always there to keep him grounded. Gaz tends to silently scowl or snarl when someone gets too close to you. It felt like instinct to him to keep everyone and thing away from you. Even himself sometimes, but it’s hard to when you’re always holding his hand or leaning on him.

Price: The most in control. Price sacrificed himself to save Gaz from a horde of zombies which explained his more mauled looking state compared to the others. He’s the one that bandages you up when you get wounded because the others would either go berserk or drool all over you. He acts the most human and even still smokes from his cigars which looks hilarious because when he exhales, the smoke will leave out of every cut or hole in his body. How can he smoke with rotting lungs? We’ll never know. Despite having the most self control, Price can slip up sometimes but it’s very, very rare. One time he was bandaging your bloody wrist up when you look over and see him licking and sucking the blood off your wrist.

Y/N: “Uh, captain?”

Price: “Mmm?”

Y/N: “Your doing the-uh…thing again.”

Price: wha-….Ah fucking hell….

[anachronismstellar]

SQH x Wine Peak lord

I would imagine SQH would teach the Wine Peak Lord modern drinking games and it goes from there. (IDK if it will go like the SVSSS extra if you know what I mean.)

HISHSDAUFHUSDHDF not only did SQH taught a modern drinking game, UNO is now canon in the SVSSS lol

AND FUCK YEA BODY SHOTS LET'S GO

A Peak Lady this time! :D Her lovely name was given by @busysavingtheuniverse, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy my wine aunty!!

Omg I'm so sorry it took me this long but *waves at the past weeks*

But to make it better this is ahahahah 13 pages long on my docs. :D

Why I am going a little insane ty for asking

BTW, this one has mild explicit content AND it has two adults getting reaaally drunk before having sex. Everything is consensual, but if that makes you icky, maybe skip this one

Now, on with the fic!

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The room was filled with the scent of incense and tobacco, the lights bright just enough to create an intimate atmosphere. Four people gathered around a low table, the clacking of ivory pieces mixed with their low voices.

And the wine, of course, flowing like a river, making laughter bubble free. They probably shouldn't drink so much, their week packed with meetings and trainings, but if their dear Mu Qingfang himself was indulging, who were they to say no to a bit of fun?

The stones were given to each player, some of them being exchanged back and forth, the match starting with their host setting down the first piece.

And as soon as the game began, so did the gossip.

"Has anyone heard from their disciples yet? Wei-shixiong?" Mu Qingfang asked as he poured wine for all of them while waiting for his turn in the game.

"Not me," he replied as he discarded his stone, cursing right after, trying to take it back, only to get a tap on the wrist by Qi Qingqi sitting on his right.

"Pong. Don't cheat." Qi Qingqi said as she moved her pieces at a speed that would leave anyone dizzy, already displaying a group of three identical stones, her eyes focused on the game, shoulders tense.

"I heard nothing from him as well," Mu Qingfang added along with his own discarded stone, moving way slower than his shijie on his left. "But I don't think he noticed the rumors yet."

"I don't wanna add to the fire," Zhang Qingyan started as she tapped her nails on her pieces, holding her pipe between her teeth to move her own blocks before continuing. "But I heard some An Ding disciples talking about Liu-shidi being the last victim."

"Really?" Mu Qingfang asked, genuinely surprised. "I thought he was scared of Liu-Shixiong?"

"Oh he is!" Wei Qingwei said a bit too excited for someone losing their third round or so. "But I heard that girl, what's her name? The An Ding Head Disciple? Qi-shimei, do you know who I am talking about?"

"Ye Ling."

"That's the one," Wei Qingwei threw another piece at the discarded pile, then sipped his drink. "She said Liu-shidi scared the soul out of Shang-shidi's body, and Shang-shidi grabbed him and threw Liu-shidi on the ground."

"And that would do it, wouldn’t it? Liu-shidi is so odd…" Zhang Qingyan took another smoke from her pipe, then offered it to Qi Qingqi, who just refused with a shake of her head. She had lost the three last matches, and that mixed up with how much wine they had already...

Zhang Qingyan moved a little bit to the side, just in case.

"Who is missing then?"

"Almost half of the peaks, I believe."

"Do you think he's gonna sleep with all the lords?"

"A bit difficult, I mean, Gao-shidi has eyes only for his talismans. And Qi-shijie-" Mu Qingfang said as he took the pipe Qi Qingqi rejected.

"I won't touch men, not even if there's no one else in the world," she said as she put down her stone, glaring at Wei Qingwei.

"Don't look at us like that." Wei Qingwei gave her a wink, laughing at her face of disgust. "You haven't got the full Shang Qinghua experience!"

"It baffles me how he got himself into the bed of so many." She pretended to move her pieces around, just like Zhang Qingyan pretended not to see her take a piece from the discarded pile without the others noticing. "I tried to ask him where he bought his ink, you know the shimmery one? I couldn't open my mouth before he ran away like a scared rabbit."

"And can you blame Shang-Shixiong?" Mu Qingfang chuckled as he put his stone down, a light brush on his cheeks even though he had just a few cups. "Qingqi-shijie talking to a man of her own will is not something common to see. He probably thought you're going to ask for his liver."

"Hunf! I didn't need anything from him anyway." She flipped her hair back, as if she hadn't just confessed wanting to ask Shang-Shixiong a question. "My girls were more than able to gather all the information I needed to buy the ink."

"What I find really intriguing is that so far it has been all peak lords and no lady," Zhang Qingyan said as she poured another cup for Qi Qingqi and then herself, sighing at the taste of plum and spice. "Is he even interested in women?"

"Zhang-shimei, not you too," Qingqiu shook her head in dismay. "You are not considering-"

"The boys keep talking nonstop about him. And as Mu-Shixiong doesn't tell me anything-"

"It's doctor and patient confidentiality!"

"-I'm curious, that's all."

The entire table got dangerously quiet before exploding with noise.

"No, no, no, absolutely not, I have my money on Wu Qingfang being the next one!"

"Please don't indulge this nonsense, they are already insufferable as they are-"

"You should call him for the next game." Mu Qingfang took a sip of his wine, the red on his cheeks spreading down his neck. "He's been dealing with a lot lately, I bet he would enjoy the distraction."

She turned to look at him, eyebrows pulled up in surprise as she slowly let go of her smoke.

"Mu-Shixiong really thinks so?" She tapped her ashes in an empty bowl next to her chair, ignoring Qi-Shijie and Wei-shixiong bickering to focus on her dear doctor. "You-" she paused, glancing at the two other cultivators, certifying they were distracted before taking his hand and gently squeezing it. "You know him better than any of us..." She paused again, their eyes meeting, a heartbeat passing before he gave her a soft smile, glasses a little crooked.

"I know it's been a while since he had good wine." Mu Qingfang squeezed her hand back with a discreet shake of his head. "And if there's anyone I trust to show him a good time would be Zhang-shimei."

She nodded slowly as she clicked her cup against his before taking her sip, the sweetness of the wine tingling on her tongue, making her sigh.

"Besides," Mu Qingfang continued, taking his last piece from the face-down pile. "Shang Qinghua is not that bad. The secret is to hand in his paperwork on time and not ask for any last-minute favors. Then he doesn't care about the rest."

"Hah!" Wei Qingwei exclaimed as he waved one of his pieces at Mu Qingfang's direction, showing its symbol for anyone to see. "It also helps that you like sucking his-"

Smack!

The sound of Qi Qingqi slamming both her hands against the wooden table was loud enough to make them all stop and stare at her bright red face.

"Can we talk about anything else that's not Shang-shidi- Shang- the A-An Ding Peak Lord love life?" And at each stutter, her grip on the table got stronger, to the point of her knuckles going white. "Honestly, you are all worse than my teenage girls!"

They looked at each other before lowering their heads with soft mumbles of "Sorry Shimei" and "Sorry Qi-Shijie." Zhang Qingyan felt bad for her poor Shijie, Wei-Shixiong must have already talked her ear off about Shang-Shixiong if she got to the point of exploding like that.

They went back to focusing on the game, their silence lasting for three more rounds before Wei Qingwei opened his mouth and-

"But how long do you think it will take until he notices his disciples bragging about him fucking Liu-shidi?"

Qi Qingqi grabbed the closer bottle she could reach and took a big swing while Zhang Qingyan patted her shoulder, holding back her laughter.

-------

Shang-Shixiong and Zhang Qingyan had a very... Feeble relationship.

They were both close friends to Mu Qingfang, but they had never actually talked anything substantial outside of small talk.

If anyone asked Zhang Qingyan why, she would say they just hadn't much in common. She liked her wine and spending days and days in her peak, experimenting with all types of tinctures and salts, while he would never stop going on and on about paperwork and numbers, topics she wanted to avoid like demons after she closed her office doors.

She knew he was a good man, Mu-Shixiong wasn't one to praise freely. She just had been under the impression of Shang-Shixiong being a busy bee that cared only for his work, with no time to let his hair down. Literally.

Then came the rumors.

First was a joke that she caught among her disciples, then a bet here and there. Upon a bit of a digging, she found out a very interesting talk among the disciples of all peaks. She didn't believe it at first, and who would?

But then Wei Qingwei told his own story, and added to what she knew Mu-Shixiong and Shang-Shixiong would get up to...

One couldn't ignore all the evidence.

She got curious, of course she did. Did she believe that her invitation for a game of Mahjong would be accepted? Honestly, no.

Was she disappointed when instead of a polite decline she received a confirmation of his presence at their next gathering?

Absolutely not.

"This one would like to apologize to Shang-Shixiong for the absence of the other guests," she said as soon as they sat down on the low table, the set of Mahjong organized over it, ready for a game. "Mu-Shixiong had to cover his head disciple's shift, and Wei-Shixiong is lost in his forge, he said he was about to finish his last masterpiece and couldn't come."

"You mean his masterpiece of this month, right?" He took his wine cup from her hands with a small nod, waiting for her to pour her own drink before taking a sip. "Hoping he doesn't blow up another forge."

"Let's hope not, or he won't escape Qi-shijie's fury this time."

The name made Shang Qinghua tense, a weak laugh escaping his throat while he looked around, as if Qi QIngqi would jump from the curtains at any moment.

"Speaking of her, you said she was invited too...?"

"Oh, she's invited, but with Qi-shijie is always a wild guess,"

They left their talk trickle down as they both sipped their wine. When the silence kept going, Zhang Qingyan put her cup down to get her pipe. If she was going to host, she would have a good smoke.

"Do you want some?" She offered the tobacco. "I also have another wine, if Shixiong prefers something a bit stronger."

"This wine is perfect, thank you," he said as he rushed to take another sip, nodding his head. "But- uh. I wouldn't mind a smoke, actually."

He took his own pipe out of his robes, filling his pipe with fresh tobacco, shoulders dropping as smoke left his lips.

Deciding not to let the conversation die a horrible death, Zhang Qingyan poured more wine to them, hoping for it to loosen up Shang-Shixiong's tongue.

She wanted at least some gossip to tell Wei-Shixiong!

"I'm sad that I've invited Shang-Shixiong all this way for a match and we won't be able to play." Zhang Qingyan said after taking another sip of wine before starting the task of putting the Mahjong pieces away.

He quickly started helping her to put all the pieces in the silk lined box, picking up one or other to admire the hand work. "We could play something else, if you would like," he suggested when they finished putting everything away.

"Oh? What do you suggest?"

He patted his robes until he found a qiankun bag, taking a bundle of paper from it, setting on the top of the table. "Have you ever played Yi?"

She put the box aside, reaching for the papers, letting out a surprised "Huh" when she touched it, not finding it as flexible as she was expecting. And the colors! There were the ones with numbers, but also many drawings, some of them so detailed one could stare at them for hours.

"You've made these?"

"Oh no, no, I'm not an artist. But I know a lady that does some commission work, so all I had to do was describe the cards for her to make."

"They are beautiful..." she whispered while admiring a red phoenix delicately painted to look as if it was curling around the number nine. "How do you play it?"

He delicately took the cards from her hands, setting one of each type on the table, explaining one by one along with the rules of the game. And during the entire time she couldn't help but feel impressed, her polite smile slowly becoming sincere the more he talked. And she could see that Shang-Shixiong was opening up too, his own lips curling up in a smile, eyes crinkling with joy every time she asked a smart question.

"And there are many ways you could bend the rules, some people back in my town would play it as a drinking game."

"A drinking game?" Zhang Qingyan immediately perked up, eyes glinting with mischief. "Would Shang-Shixiong want to try going against me? Really?"

He squinted his eyes at her, and she could see him biting the inside of his cheek, as if considering his changes.

"Yes, let's make it a drinking game."

Oh poor dear, he had no idea, had he?

It wasn't his fault, really. Zhang Qingyan wasn't the type to brag, and again, they hadn't spent enough time together for him to know what a terrible mistake he had just made. And before he could go back on his offer she brought a cheaper wine, pouring them both a cup full to the brim, pulling her sleeves up so they wouldn't get in the way of her handling the cards.

Shang Qinghua shuffled, cutting the deck in half and then shuffling again, giving each of them seven cards, picking one from the top of the remaining, a beautiful blue bird with the number 6 next to it settling the first color of their game.

And so it started. 

"Zhang-shimei is a fast learner," he downed his wine in one swallow, without blinking at the strong taste. She could see he wasn't expecting her to get the rules so fast, their first round ending with Zhang Qingyan's victory. "Maybe we should add more drinking rules."

"Shixiong is too kind," she batted her eyelashes at him. "But if you think you can keep up with this one, we could add a cup each time one has to buy two cards or more."

"Deal," he agreed with a smile that was too sharp and too dangerous, a glint in his eyes that made her giggle with anticipation. It was like she could hear Mu-Shixiong's voice laughing with her, poking at her ribs while saying proudly. "Told you he's not bad."

…She could also hear Wei-Shixiong too, a whistle followed by "Careful, Shimei~ you gonna fall for it~"

"I'm not falling for it," she thought as she shook her head while giving all the cards for Shang Qinghua to shuffle again, firmly ignoring the way her heart picked up pace when his warm hands touched hers.

They played another round, and then another, tricking each other as much as the cards themselves tricked them, drying one bottle then two, then four. At some point Shang-Shixiong had let his hair down, and Zhang Qingyan had lost her outer robe, both stacking cards as fast as they could just to see the other fumble, smoke and alcohol making the room spin softly around them.

"I didn't know Shimei was such a good drinker," Shang Qinghua set his card down, laughing as Zhang Qingyan cursed like a demon, picking up two cards before drinking her wine. "I should have proposed that we drank each time one has to buy a card instead of two or more."

"Careful, Shixiong, one could think you were trying to seduce poor little me," she replied with a sweet smile, while curling her hair on her finger.

"Oh shimei, if I were really trying to seduce you, I would suggest body shots," he laughed, then drinking his cup after drawing a card.

"What are body shots?" she couldn't help but ask, glaring at the bright green dragon in the middle of the table, her cards dancing in front of her. She had the card to change colors for a while now, but she could also make him draw four more cards.

Hmmm choices choices...

"Oh, uh," his hesitation made her raise her glance at his red face, surprised at how he had gone from relaxed and cheekey to embarassed in less than seconds. "It's- It's something from my town? But, ah, is a bit-"

"Shixiong," she set her cards turned down at the table, putting her elbows on top of it so she could rest her chin on her hands. "Is it a lewd game?!"

"Oh Heavens," he hid his face between his hands, groaning. "I should not have mentioned it, oh no, this is dangerous-"

"Now I'm even more intrigued," she leaned forward, head slightly tilted down as she looked up at him. "Shixiong wouldn't leave me curious, would he?"

She didn't think it was possible for him to become more red, but at this point he was about to let smoke leak through his ears. He coughed, recomposing himself only to lose it all over again after glancing at her neckline, mumbling a word she couldn't understand.

"I- I could show you?" his voice went up at the end as if he himself was doubting his abilities. But with a deep breath he took the wine bottle and drank a good half of it, setting the porcelain on the table with a sharp nod. "I will show you. But you have to promise not to be angry."

She laughed out of pure surprise, agreeing not to hit or harm him in any way. And the more Shang-Shixiong explained what he was going to do, the more she started questioning herself on why she had never seen him in one of Wei-Shixiong wild parties, or how the quiet peak lord had knowledge of such games.

And that's how she ended up with a cup of wine nested between her robes and her chest, and Shang-Shixiong standing right in front of her, brown eyes blown wide as he held her by her waist. They both moved slowly as if the air had turned into molasses, unsure of where the lines were drawn, Shang Qinghua's heated breath sending shivers down her spine.

It was mesmerizing to watch as Shang Qinghua bit the porcelain and threw his head back, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Clear liquid trickled down his chin, making everything messy, and probably it was not as graceful as he wanted it to be, both already drunk as they were. But then he went and licked the cup clean and-

He raised his eyes at her, and it was impossible for her not to hold his face, sinking her hands into his hair. She guided him into a biting kiss, both of them moaning, as his hands slid up and down her body, touching her everywhere as she did her best to get rid of his collared shirt, pulling him even closer by the back of his neck.

If the room had felt hot before, now it was boiling, her red robes hitting the floor right after his leather bracers, her dark lip tint smeared over his mouth and cheek.

Everything tasted salty and sweet, the haze of the wine making her entire skin tingle as he pushed her slowly until he was lying on the wooden floor. She felt as if she were floating under the brushes of his fingertips as he left her chest completely exposed to his gaze, tracing a swirling pattern all the way to her belly.

"There's another way to do a body shot," he said, and the way his voice went deeper with lust, oh Heavens, she might never recover. All of Mu-Shixiong's wildest stories weren’t able to prepare her for the vision that was Shang Qinghua completely disheveled, hair dripping down his shoulders, strong muscles peeking from his half opened shirt. "Shimei would like to learn it?"

She kept nodding while he took the bottle from the table, gasping when he pulled the cork with his teeth. "This might tickle," was the only warning he gave her before pouring wine in her bellybutton. She whined, nails scratching his arms with thin lines of red as he breathed over the cold liquid before sucking. And he drank it all up to the last drop, his tongue dancing on her skin, setting it her on fire, turning her whine into full moans as his mouth went lower and lower and-

"S-Shixiong!" She cried while grasping his hair tight, her back bending until it wasn't touching the floor for a second.

The slurping sound was obscene, it was divine, it was driving her into madness. She couldn't stop making noise, pulling her legs up until her knees were touching his head, begging for more, begging for mercy, begging and begging-

"I must say..." He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, pressing a soft kiss on the side of her knee. "This was much better than any body shot."

She kissed the smugness off his face, doing her best to reverse their positions, biting as she noticed Shang Qinghua was letting her move him around, allowing her to sit on his lap.

He was about to find out two could play that game.

"My turn," she said as she grabbed the bottle, pouring it all over his chest.

----------

She took her time getting dressed, feeling relaxed like she hadn’t in a good while, body sore all in the right places. Her guest had already left for his own peak, but not before making sure she had a good breakfast and some water, hangover tincture ready by her bed. 

And as soon as she could, she set foot to Mu-Shixiong’s peak, asking the first discipline that passed by if the doctor was in his office, not surprised at all by the affirmative answer.

"Mu Qingfang," she didn't slam the door open because that would be beneath her, but her entrance was dramatic anyway, robes fluttering as she rushed to get closer to him, crossing his office in a few steps. 

"What?" he asked as he paused by his examination table, his magnifying glasses perched up on his nose. And it was a testimony of their long friendship that she didn’t even blink at the sight of him bent over what seemed to be a tentacled creature; a scare thin knife in one hand, a pair of tweezers in the other.

“You were right, I was wrong.”

“Well, that’s a first coming from you. What was I right about?”

She took him by his wrist after he set all his instruments aside, making him sit before going through his shelves to get the good wine. Yes, she was still hungover, but she was in the mood for a celebration.

That and the fact that she would collect a big bag later from her disciples was also very nice, but not the point.

“Shang-Shixiong came by yesterday.”

“Oh?” and that was what made him shift his entire focus towards her, fingers intertwined on the top of his desk. “And how was it? Did you guys play Mahjong?” and then he dared to wiggle his eyebrows at her, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Stop it, I just told you that you were right," she poured him the wine, waiting for him to sip first before tasting it as well. “And I have to admit, I didn't know fingers could move like that. And don't tell Qi-shijie but- his tongue?"

"I know," Mu Qingfang let out a dreamy sign.

"And how long can he hold his breath? I mean-”

"I know," he sighed again, a silly smile on his face. Before, when she was the one on the other side listening to him sing Shang-Shixiong's praises, she would roll her eyes fondly, saying that he was a man in love.

Now? She understood. She completely understood..

The entire time Shang-Shixiong had been the most polite, making sure she was comfortable, taking what he wanted but not taking it for granted. He asked permission in the sweetest ways, teasing her when she failed to use words. And at the end of it all, he had taken time to massage her sore thighs, kissing her feet, treating her like an empress.

It made her heart race but she wasn't a romantic woman. She liked to have fun but relationships? Hah! In a world controlled by men, to become someone's wife would be the same as giving away her power and titles.

Mu Qingfang, on the other hand...

"Are you... Are you alright with all of this? I know how deeply you feel about Shang-Shixiong." She took his hand between hers in a similar gesture all those days ago, searching in his eyes any sign of pain. "Just say the word, and I go after him to give a strong talk."

He laughed, a genuine belly laugh that made her relax her shoulders, the band around her heart releasing a bit.

"This one thanks his Shimei, but she doesn't need to worry. My relationship with Shang-Shixiong is not like that. We love each other, but I know he wasn't meant to have only one lover."

"That's a way to say it," she tsked as she patted his hand again, letting it go to pick on the sleeves of her robes, still a bit out of it from the previous night. "The man is turning the Sect into his personal harem… And I don't think he knows it."

"He has all of us wrapped around his fingers, doesn't he?" And then it was his turn to take her hand, checking her pulse and Qi levels out of habit. "Now, what else did you do last night?"

"Shixiong!"

"What? Is nothing I haven’t seen before, at least from his part. And I’ve told you worse and you know it."

She groaned, caught by his sound argument. She hid her face between her hands, feeling her ears burning up, face almost scarlet as her robes.

“Well?”

She peeked at him between her fingers, pouting. But when he just crossed his arms she knew she would have no escape. "Fine. But first-" she took his cup of wine, drinking it up in a gulp, the burning on her throat matching the burning of her face.

She started talking.

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The plan for this was:

They played mahjong cards

They got drunk

Sqh: uhh body shots is uhh a game but is not appropriate to play with decent company Zqy: good think I'm far from decent then ;)

BODY SHOTS

Uhhhhh, as spicy as we can get

And my brain couldn't think of any creative name for their UNO version so I went with the number one in Mandarin aaaaaa

Holy shit y'all I can't believe we are 7/12 already?!?!! sdhfuishdf Send help aaaaaaaaa

aaand next on the line is Beast Peak Lady, Wu Qingfang!

here is the masterpost of all the other achievements

thank you again for this ask and for giving it a read!!! :D

Beast Peak here we gooooo~